I'm On Facebook, Help Me!

In the last few weeks, I have recently been persuaded by my friend N@ to join Facebook. Along the lines of MySpace, it appears to be much more popular amongst my UK friends, in that they are much more likely to respond to my messages. Unfortunately, joining yet another "hey pay attention to me and be my friend" site is taxing my admittedly already crappy cyborz skillz. It's all I can do right now to keep up with this blog. I am belatedly realizing that you can spend WAY too much time maintaining all things internet.

The upshot is, I've spent at least 3 hours trying to figure out what in the hell you're supposed to do on it, with limited success. I managed to get a picture of myself on there and get a few friends to add me to theirs. Yay me! I am not a total loser! I will rest easier now basking in that knowledge.

Which leads me to another question about this whole FaceSpace/MyBook phenomenon. I'm quite sure this idea has been posited before elsewhere, but aren't these sites really not just jumped-up popularity contests? I mean, does anyone really have 10,420 friends? I think not, sir, I think not. Oh alright, I know that bands, comedians, even films and businesses all have their own MySpace pages now, and it's a grand way to promote your work, I suppose. But still, if you're not a band, comedian, or a film, try easing up on the adds a little. It smacks of desperation.

Everybody who is listed as a friend of mine on either of my sites (except for Tom on MySpace - he just won't go away, he stalks me every day) is more than an actor from a movie I liked, or a band I enjoy listening to. I have actually spoken to them, ate with them, cried on their shoulder, hung out with them, heckled them personally in some way shape or form, or generally gotten to know them as a person in some fashion. Does this mean I lose at the internets?

Perhaps it's just a generational difference, and I am nothing if not old and cranky now. One of our friend's teenage daughters added me to her MySpace, in a moment of pity for an ageing lady I think, and it's amazing the stuff they can do and they stuff they say. Wow. Reading her page, I do get a glimmer of the way things could have been for me regarding my relationship with computers, had I been born 15 years later than I was. Instead of the enemy, the computer could have been my friend. Awwwww.......

P.S. My brain zaps are still going strong, maybe that's why all this stuff seems so complicated at the moment; yeah, that's it, it's not me that's stoopid, it's all my brain's fault! Um, wait, that means my brain is ..... well, never mind then, maybe it's not such a good theory. Stoopid brain!

The Princess ...

...had her 9th birthday on Sunday, and started 4th grade the next day. I have been a little preoccupied with my own medicinal issues and didn't mention it when I should have. I am such a Slacker Mommy .....


Here is her cake. She has pretty much outgrown the little kid themed cakes, so we improvised with daisies. She didn't seem to mind at all. It was chocolate, that's all that mattered.





She got wads of cash this year; the $100 from Grandma Chris in the UK was plenty, I felt, but then she got even MORE. The child is richer than I am right now, which is slightly alarming. But that's okay, I know where she hides it......just in case, that's all I'm saying.

She got a Nintendo DS-Lite and a few games as her main present. This was a huge hit and she has already spent almost every spare waking hour messing with it. I'm not as bothered by this as I might be, because the game she chooses to play over all the others is called Brain Age, a "brain training" game that features Sudoku, math puzzles and logic riddles. She is a geek just like her Mama! I am extremely proud; and apparently quite stupid, as she can beat the pants off me on it. Damn you Sodoku, you are the devil!

Okay, here I'm gonna try and post my very short video of her first day of school. Notice how she is obviously patronizing me by doing such a silly thing, even though it's something we've done since she started pre-school. Back then she was a lot more excited about it and didn't have to be coached. This time it was like pulling teeth. The look on her face here just screams, "Oh Mother, you are soooo lame". That look is becoming more and more attached to her pretty face the older she gets. She wouldn't hold my hand either when I dropped her off in her class either, saying "that's not cool!".

That's okay, I understand baby (chokes back a sob).

Just Say No To Legal Drugs

It's time to confess that I am detoxing from a serious drug addiction. It's been a monkey on my back for almost two years and if I go too long without it, the side effects are NOT pretty. Lest you fret that I have fallen as a casualty in America's War Against Drugs (TM), it's not pot, cocaine, or any of the other wild and wacky illegal stuff that's on the streets these days....

Nope, my particular problem is Lexapro. It's like Prozac-lite. It was prescribed by my doctor, after The Boy was born, to try and even out the homicidal tendencies I was feeling at the time. I believe they call it Post Partum Depression, but in my case it was more like Post Partum I Want To Kill You All Because I Just Passed A Baby The Size Of A Watermelon And I'm Not Feeling All That Happy About It Right Now What The Hell Are You Looking At Dammit!

Anyhoo, Lexapro was described to me as the latest breakthrough in feel-good happy-happy medicine, so I thought what the hey and started taking it. It seemed to work, in that Grandma and The Husband immediately stopped ducking and running when they saw me coming. But after a while, I felt enough is enough, I've gained 30 pounds (a side effect) and I want off this ride. So I followed the guidelines, started reducing my intake slowly over the last 6 months until I am now cold turkey. Unfortunately, cold turkey really sucks. Funny, they don't tell you how hard it is to get off of it when they prescribe it.

I am suffering from a few of the common side effects of coming off Lexapro, the worse one being the "brain zaps". Every ten minutes or so, it feels like the inside of my head is attached to an electrical outlet that's getting hit by lightning. It has a tendency to make you lose your train of thought, to say the least. I am also suffering from excessive sweating, which is just gross, and the occasional sensation of light-headedness.

Plus, my short-term memory has gone down the tubes, but that could because there are too many children and dogs in my house; I'm not really sure what to chalk that one up to. The good news is that all these side-effects should only last up to if not more than 3 weeks! That makes me feel sooooo much better about it all ...... NOT.

All in all, this is the pits! Don't ever get on one of these "legal" drugs if you can find an alternative. It can help, yes, but it' sure is hell-on-wheels to quit.

It reminded me of that old anti-drug PA they used to play during the 80's; I never ever thought, watching it at the time, how true it would turn out to be in my case .....

Becks

Does anyone really care that David Beckham is playing soccer (football to the rest of the known world) in America? If you believe all the press and hype he's getting over here, you would think we, as a nation, begged him to come over and save us from the boring old American soccer we all totally ignore the majority of the time anyway.

But I mean, honestly. Do you, person who is reading this blog right now, really give a rat's patoot? I don't.

And bringing Skeletor along for the ride is just too much. She should go eat a sandwich already before all that's left of her are her fake boobies.

I once saw Becks at the Midland Hotel in Manchester, along with Ryan Giggs and Eric Cantona (now I am dating myself for sure) at a Man Utd gala, and he sure is a good looking man. But I still don't care. Soccer will never be a powerhouse sport in the States like it is everywhere else; we like winners or losers. All that nonsense about playing 90 minutes for a nil-nil game is just crazy-talk.

I mean if Pele couldn't make a dent here, nobody can.

The Little League World Series

We have been totally enrapt with the Little League World Series. It has been an awesome display of the kind of raw talent, textbook ball handling skills, and love for the game that seems to be missing in the Majors these days. Plus, they actually play a World series. The American Regional teams had to fight it out to see who would represent the U.S., whilst teams from all over such as Curacao, the Netherlands, China, Saudi Arabia (who knew?) and the eventual finalists from Japan all battled it out for the last few days to see who would be the champs.

I am happy to report the team from Warner Robbins, Georgia overcame the team from Tokyo at the top of the 8th inning with a walk-off home run. Exciting stuff! All the boys on all the teams were so dedicated and intense, I hated to see any of them lose, bless their socks.

If only professional baseball was as good as this! What happens to these guys between Little League and the Show? How do they get to be so blase, greedy or just plain corrupt? My suspicion is that it's the ungodly amount of money that's thrown at them at such a young age. You really have to have a sterling character to withstand all the pressure that comes with fame, glory and over-the-top wealth. I will restrain myself from making a Barry Bonds comment here. Whew, that was difficult.

And will we ever see a true World Series, like maybe the Yankees playing a team from Japan? That's something I would love to have happen in my lifetime ....

Foul Weather Friends

I have had numerous emails from my friends over the pond regarding my recent post about missing England. All of them, to a one, made the point that the weather has been practically apocalyptic for the last couple of months. Floods, torrential rain, cold weather, the works. I think there was even a tornado somewhere thrown in for good measure. Rachel in Manchester made the comment that, "if you had been here for the last month, you would have been screaming to get out!". My ex-mother in-law went so far as to describe this summer in Blighty as "November".

Thank you all for reminding me why I left, I feel much better! Now if I could just get my Yorkshire Puddings to not be a total disaster, I could make my own pub lunch and get over it!

Thank You Little Baby Jesus!

No, not another post about religion! Unruffle your feathers and settle down! I mean it most sincerely, thank you little baby Jesus!

The Boy finally got into the much sought after pre-school he has been on the waiting list for since the day he was practically born. I was beginning to think he wouldn't be accepted, which would have made me very VERY sad in the face. Ironically, it's run by our church, but the fact that we are members made no difference in our wait time. Hurrumph.

Still, Grandma and I rejoiced and did a little happy jig of joy! He needs socialization and schooling in the worst way. Plus, he'll be out of the house! Huzzah!

And did I mention that he'll be out of the house? Oh. Well, huzzah again anyway!

GodTube

I have found a new internets religious site that ranks up there with Fundies Say The Darndest Things!

GodTube is YouTube for the Christianist set. It's chock full of sermons, short films, and "funny" videos. I especially loved the piece about porn; it quotes Matthew 5:29 "if your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and throw it away" and features a man destroying his computer because porn dared appeared on his screen. I suppose this is hilarious to a certain sub-group of Christians who refuse to take personal responsibility seriously. I found it weirdly scary. It's the same justification that fundamental Muslims countries like Iran use to make woman wear the burka - you can't have woman walking about uncovered to tempt all the poor hapless men. Bless.

However, there is a series of parodies of the Apple/PC ads called Christian/Christ Follower which gave me hope that not ALL Christians are right-wing nutjobs. And this awesome video called Baby Got Book. I laughed all the way through it.


*****I had embedded another video of a much more scary film that was agitating Christians towards killing anyone who disagreed with them. Armegeddon, here we come! It was awfully exciting. However, either their site has been down all day, or my IP address has been banned. How I would love if that were the case!!!!! Either way, I had to remove it, it was messing up the flow.

I don't hate religious people, I consider myself one. I'm just scared of the extremist ones. I am a Methodist, we don't care for all that nonsense.

Happy Birthday To Me

Today is my birthday .... I am 42 today. I would like to think I could pass for 38 . That's not too much to ask for, is it?

I had many things I wanted to write about regarding aging, the gaining of wisdom, and the passage of time, but George, my lovely emergency-backup-husband, has just arrived with a birthday present of a six-pack of Corona, so nevermind with all that for now!

Cheers!

Three Years And A Day

The Boy was jumping on his very nice wooden bed today and broke the frame. His Daddy was quite peeved and wanted to beat him for at least a couple of hours. I was all for it and had gotten out my pompoms to cheer him on, but Grandma wouldn't let us. Spoilsport.

Luckily for him, Daddy is a repair genius and managed to fix it with the clever use of zip ties. Go-go redneck ingenuity! You can't beat it!

The Boy doesn't realize it yet, but he should be thanking the inventor of those zip ties; if not for them, duct tape and Benadryl would be looming heavily in his future.

The Birthday Boy

Today is The Boy's birthday - he woke up this morning having made it to age three against all projected odds! Hooray for him! I joke, he's really very sweet when he's not taking off all his clothes and peeing everywhere. Or throwing rocks at his sisters. Or pulling the dog's tail until he yelps. Or saying "NO!" every time you tell him to do something he doesn't want to do. Or picking up Grandma's glass of ice tea, deliberately pouring it out on the living room floor and laughing like a crazed little imp as he runs away from an enraged old lady. Yep, he's pretty lucky to still be with us.

We had a birthday party for him, which thrilled him to no end. This is the first year he really understood what was going on. He adored his Sesame Street cake and so did we. The lady that made it did a fantastic job, even making sure Elmo was on it. While the rest of us hate Elmo with a passion now, The Boy can't go a day without him. Damn you Talking Elmo, with your endless songs and stories! But I am getting off the subject now, sorry ....

Here he is seeing his cake for the first time...he seems surprised that we are actually going to let him have it. Usually we try to keep him away from the sugar. Sugar is bad. Sugar makes him go wild. Well, wilder than normal. Which is pretty wild.

He quickly cottons on that you have to blow out the candles before you can eat the cake. This ritual went much better than last year, when he insisted on grabbing the lit candle, burnt his finger, and cried through the rest of his party whimpering, "hand hurt, Mommy". Ah, fun times.

But wait! It gets better! There is cake AND presents! Will the excitement never end?







It's a puzzle, one his fave things in the world. He is quite the little problem solver; he lives to take things out of their rightful place and see if he can put them somewhere else that they're not made for. This is why our DVD no longer works as well as it used to, but that's a story for another time.


Why he is so amazed and overjoyed to get cash is something that I am still worrying about. Let's hope the answer doesn't crop up too soon.

We foolishly thought the piece de resistance gift would be the Radio Flyer tricycle we splurged on. However, once he dragged it out on the deck and posed for a picture with it, he totally ignored it in favor of the Big Bird balloon that came with it.

Still, he's a cutie, ain't he?

BIG Love

My new fave TV show is HBO's Big Love. If you haven't heard of it, it's about a Mormon polygamist family in Utah trying to "pass" in normal monogamistical society. It stars Bill Paxton as the "Patriarch" who is living "The Principle" with his three hot wives, Jeanne Tripplehorn, Chloe Sevigny and Ginnifer Goodwin. It's produced by Tom Hanks, so I guess he decided having three hot wives makes polygamy more TV viewer friendly. All the documentaries I've ever seen about polygamy led me to believe that the women involved were really, REALLY not that hot, but who's gonna argue with the Hankster?

So, what does "living the principle" mean? I dunno for sure, but they talk about it all the time on the show with very serious spiritual frowny faces. My own personal knowledge of Mormons is limited to one ubernerd guy I met many years ago who wore funny Mormon underwear, as pictured here.** From what I understand, my posting this picture is an affront to Mormons everywhere, so if you are Mormon and offended, please keep your pants on and try to forgive me.

It doesn't shy away from depicting the more controversial polygamy "compounds" that house hundreds of families living in poverty and on welfare, nor does it ignore the child abuse that goes on in some of those places. But it does offer "their" side of the story, which is quite fascinating to me.

The Husband recently declared, after watching one episode of Bill Paxton bonking all three of the "sister-wives" in the same day (but not at the same time, for that is not Godly) that, yes indeedy, he too could contemplate having multiple wives! Then I pointed out that if he thought one pissed off woman was bad, imagine three or four all ganged up on his sorry ass, and he appeared to change his mind.

But I do find it extremely amusing that in the midst of all the recent Republican political posturing about the "sanctity" of one woman/one man marriage, that this show is so popular. I think that is another sign that your average American really doesn't care who you marry, as long as you get married and are as miserable as the rest of us, dammit.

**I never saw the underwear, he just described it. Get your mind out of the gutter!

It's YOUR Toilet, Too

We had an interesting discussion at work today about cleaning, cooking and other household chores and who actually does what.

For example, I shared my story about the time The Husband rushed up to me and announced with indignant disgust, "I had to clean the toilet!" The implication being, of course, that it was me who was somehow slacking.

"Um, when exactly did I get assigned permanently to that job?", I asked politely whilst I whacked him upside the head with the toilet scrubber. Haha, I'm kidding! I just used his toothbrush to clean it next time; he didn't know and I felt much better, it was a win/win situation!

But you get my point. In any relationship, one person has higher standards than the other, and never the twain shall meet. I have come to accept that I live with a bunch of total slobs and that my house will never be the way I like it. If I want it clean, I clean it. Or I press gang a group of children to do it for me while I sit on the deck and drink a beer, which is the preferred option these days. Either way, it doesn't stay like that for longer than an hour, but I take what I can get.

One thing that is NOT negotiable, however, is that whoever does the cooking gets a free pass tidying up the kitchen. If you cook, you don't clean it up, end of story. It's the law, and if you don't respect it, you might find yourself eating something one day that doesn't quite sit right on your stomach ....

Mr. Manchester

On the back of my last post about missing Manchester, I was saddened to learn that Tony Wilson has died. For those of you who haven't a clue who he was, you can read all the details here.

For those of you who can't be bothered to read the details, and I know you're out there, he was the mind behind Joy Division, New Order, Factory Records and the much missed Hacienda*. He was the man that created the "Madchester" scene and was the subject of the movie "24 Hour Party People". If you lived in Manchester during 70's and especially the late 80's and early 90's, you couldn't escape him. It was generally agreed by all that he was loudmouthed and arrogant, but there was no doubt that he loved his city, huge ego notwithstanding.

I was rather fond of him myself - I met him many times and he was always good for a laugh. He was extremely charismatic; he wore bespoke tailored suits, often in white, had floppy hair that he liked to flip back dramatically when he made a point, and really didn't care if you were glad to see him or not.

I was sitting with a group of workmates (that included Peter Hook from New Order) in the Granada TV bar one night when he swanned in and spotted us. "Hooky!" he cried and grandly swept over to our table. "Fecking c*nt"!" Hooky replied in a not-at-all-joking way. Tony didn't miss a beat, but continued to talk as if Hooky was glad to see him. The man had brass ones, for sure. As he left, Hooky said with obvious affection, "what a twat!".

R.I.P.


*The Hacienda is now a block of flats - such a waste of a good club.

The Mancunian Way

I had a dream last night that I was on the number 41 bus going down Wilmslow Road in Manchester. Perhaps it's the fact that it's been 103F here for the last three days; my mind said "screw this, we're going somewhere cooler, even if we just ride a bus". But it made me really miss England.

When I first moved back the States, I was pretty homesick for Blighty for quite some time. Then I gradually got back into the American swing of things and those pangs subsided.

But today, they're back with a bang.

I want to be called 'chuck' by a complete stranger; go to The Beech in Chorlton; drunkenly eat gravy and chips from the chippy; go to Rusholme and get a cheap but tasty curry; play softball in the pissing down rain; watch Countdown and Coronation Street; have a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding Sunday lunch at Ye Old Cock Inn; hear someone say 'put keckle on luv'; walk out on the street and hail a black cab just to go 2 blocks; order a pizza at Cocotoo's; walk the dogs at Fletcher Moss; watch the drag queens parade by on Canal Street; catch a movie at the Corner House and then have a pint; and most importantly, see all my friends again.

Ta-ra for now, I'm going to make a Ploughman's Lunch and pretend I'm somewhere else for a bit.

Not Just Thrilling But Healing .....

Ever since I stumbled across the Filipino prisoners doing the Thriller dance, I have been on the lookout for an answer as to why?

Thanks to this report from NPR, we have an answer. It IS rehabilitation! I knew it!

It is the brainchild of Byron Garcia, the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center security consultant who wanted to boost attendance at daily exercise sessions. He says, "I wanted a program where everyone would exercise an hour a day. One day, I saw these waves of orange people (in the exercise yard). I thought it looked very nice."

There you have it folks. Byron Garcia is a visionary; anyone who can get almost a 1,000 prisoners, 300 of which are banged up for murder, to joyfully group dance to songs by Michael Jackson, Freddie Mercury and the Village People is a genius. I definitely think the Filipinos are on to something.

I leave you with Jumbo Hot Dog. I can't understand what they're singing but the pelvic thrusts are pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!

Jackie and Dunlap

Political commentary from the Red State. Really, really not safe for work. If you think it's pretty damn funny, like I did, go check out their website.

Looking For A Silver Lining

We were in Court again today; round five in the ongoing struggle with The Husband's ex-wife for custody of his girls. Unfortunately, she won this time. The case will be moved to her home county, where the Judges are more liberal than they are here in "Redneckville". My impression is that she thinks in her county, it will be deemed perfectly normal for a mother to consistently leave her children home alone on a regular basis, and that she will be applauded for abandoning them with no care or maternal contact for 15 days to swan off to Nigeria to do "God's Work". And the sad thing is, she may be right; Judges are loath to take custody from the mother, even if they are complete morons.

The maddening side effect of this is that they must return to her care for the upcoming school year. She left the Courtroom today with a smug little smile; I have no doubt the situation for the girls will not change. She will continue to leave the 14 year old in charge of the younger one, they will have no life outside their tiny little apartment, and they will continue to go unsupervised until they fail school, get pregnant or worse.

What really makes me see red is that she CHOOSES this life for them. It's not like she's some poor single mother on the Welfare with no choices. She's a fricking psychologist with a well paying job. She could move closer to her work, but she just doesn't want to. She could afford to get them into some kind of after school program, but she just doesn't want to. She could go to mediation with her ex-husband and try to work out a deal that's acceptable to all, but she just doesn't want to. It's all about her. And God talks to her and tells her she's right. I'm not making that up, by the way, that's what she says. Often. This is a woman whose MySpace page name is "Beloved", as in "Beloved by God". See, it's stuff like this that makes normal people hate Evangelicals, but that's another topic for another day.

You'll have to pardon me, I am feeling somewhat bitter this evening. I can't remember when I have detested another human being as much as I detest this woman. Even when I was in the midst of my own breakup with The Wanker, I always tried to take the high road for the sake of our child. As a result, we have a cordial relationship and a fairly well-adjusted little girl. I'm not saying it was easy, or that there weren't times I wanted to sock him in the nose, but somehow I managed to rise above all the nastiness. And I am glad for my own sake, if nothing else.

What's bothering me is that I can't seem to do that now. I have had a daydream or three that she will be hit by a bus. I am trying to rise above it, but failing miserably at the moment. I keep wondering why she won't do the right thing by her kids, and why it seems she'd rather we both spend thousands of dollars of future college money fighting each other instead of thinking about what's best for all of us.

Intellectually, I'm pretty sure that things will work out for us in the long-term, but my heart aches for those two girls in the here and now.

The Honeymoon

Okay, we didn't go on a honeymoon. The girls were so excited that we were getting married, we decided to hold off on going anywhere and stay with them instead. I know, what a pair of knuckleheads, huh? What can I say, we kind of like them.

So, we brought the kids home from the Courthouse and hung out with them all afternoon and the next day and then I went back to work. And to be honest, Grandma had hinted before we got married that she would be less than thrilled to be left at home alone with four children. Actually, she fixed me with a steely glare and hissed at me, "You're NOT leaving me alone at home with four kids!". Maybe not so much of a hint as a threat. Yep, definitely a threat.

The day after the ceremony, The Husband (no longer a Significant Other, he has been upgraded) and I were sitting on the deck enjoying the sunshine as the girls trooped in and out at regular intervals to "check" on how we were doing. Finally, I said to The Princess, "Can ya'll just leave us alone for an hour? This is our honeymoon after all".

She stopped in her tracks and gently put her hand on my arm, a look of profound sympathy plastered on her face. "Oh, Mommy", she sighed. "How sad!". She smiled sweetly, patted me on top of the head, and went off on her merry way.

I wouldn't change it for the world.

The Wedding

We gathered up our herd of children and trooped over to the Courthouse. With us were our two witnesses, Grandma and George (my emergency back-up husband ....it's a long story for another time) and George's kids, Josh and Elizabeth.

The civil ceremony was accented by The Boy marching around chanting "mommy daddy mommy daddy" and laughing maniacally, which made us all, including the Magistrate, chuckle a few times. He knew something important was happening and he obviously needed to express it in his very own charming way.

When the Magistrate pronounced us husband and wife, the crowd cheered and immediately started whining about how hungry they were. So much for the sense of the occasion, the little buggers.

All in all, it has been a good day so far!