*Stares at ground*
I, for one, would never forget such a thing.
On this holiest of holidays, Labor Day, which ushers in the most anticipated day of the year, back to school, I have a post up on Scary Mommy about the high holy day and how I may or may not have forgotten to take 1st day of school photos. Find out for yourselves.
(And, don’t make me look bad. I can’t be the only one. Right?)
I remembered once. Shouldn’t that be enough?
Guys, I’m excited to report I’m featured on the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop today with a piece I wrote a long time ago for BaristaKids and reworked to submit to Erma. It’s about summer camp. Specifically, how we are sending the wrong people. Kids. It’s bullshit. When I read it again this summer, I said, “I think Erma would agree.” So I sent it off, and actually it posted yesterday afternoon a little too late for me to post about it then. So I’m getting the word out now.
If you, like me (and Erma), believe we’ve gotten the summer camp situation all wrong and you want to take a stand against this injustice, go over and read my new and improved piece, The Way Summer Camp Should Be. Because if we don’t band together we’ll never get to be sent off to summer camp for 3 months of summer fun while the kids toil at work, pay the mortgage and clean the bathrooms.
Do you think I’m gonna spend good money to send my kids to a beautiful, bucolic setting to do this when I’m the one who should be doing it? Photo credit: DioceseFDL via photopin cc
For even more fun follow me on Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter. And, never miss a thing by entering your email address right over there –> to the right because I don’t know how to enter it here (I’m a writer not a coder!).
I’m doing Tweetpeat Tuesday on Wednesday. Because I can. First rule of Blog Club is there are no rules in Blog Club. Ok? You can do whatever the hell you want. Which is kind of why I like the internets. Who wants to be hemmed in by rules?
But we have a lot of ground to cover so let’s get right to it, shall we, with a little tip from me to you.
Remember that. It’ll come in handy someday. If you’re ever visiting a zoo and have the urge to crawl into a cage with a wild animal. Did you hear that story last week about the woman who squeezed her way into a giraffe’s cage? I have to say anytime I hear about something like that I think, Well, they got what they deserved. I mean if you are stupid enough to climb into a tiger cage or a polar bear exhibit or the home of a well-meaning giraffe, you deserve to be mauled or kicked in the face or eaten alive. The bars are there for a reason, people. Did the fact that the animals are in a cage not raise any flags?
*Note the teeth. Photo credit: Karen Roe via photopin cc
As if I haven’t been helpful enough already, I have another useful tip I’ll with share with you.
Well, a hard chair and kids. Kids are a real pain in the butt, too.
It’s worth a shot, right? I’d let the cat take a stab at it if it would get me out of it.
But wait, there’s more –>
My piece, “12 Years a Slave & Furguson, MO,” is featured today on Huffington Post. It’s based on the piece I wrote here last week, but with less focus on the movie and more on the legacy of slavery that still holds today and the spate of killings of young black men at the hands of authorities and self-appointed neighborhood watch leaders in America. I wanted to look at a number of cases throughout the years and across the states, which I did, but I focused mostly on familiar, high-profile cases because if even those cases can’t get justice, what chance does a little-known case with no publicity have? Looking at all the cases was sobering. I hope you’ll go over and take a look because I don’t feel like this topic is a black issue or white issue. I think it’s a human issue.
I watched 12 Years a Slave over the weekend, and I’ve been depressed ever since. I can’t blame it all on the movie I suppose. I was feeling down before we ever slid the disk into the DVD player, but the movie gave me that extra push into despair I needed.
I knew it wasn’t a good idea to watch the movie. Actually, it was a bad idea. I’d been avoiding the movie ever since it arrived in the mail from Netflix. Although I wanted to watch it, I didn’t want to watch it. I was scared. But Sunday night after my husband had been asking to watch it for several days and I finally accepted the reality that I had to see it some time if I was ever going to get another movie from Netflix again, I agreed.
For the next two and a half hours I watched with a sickening sensation hardening in my stomach. It was like when I saw Saving Private Ryan and cried for two days afterward. But worse. While I knew it was going to be tough to watch, my fear did not match the the relentless brutality. I’m not sure anything could.
But wait, there’s more –>
First allow me to start off by wishing you and yours a very merry holiday.
Ok, that was last month, but still. Did you guys know that “National Dance Day” was a day? I’m all for dance – in fact I love to dance – but unless we’re all gonna get a day off to go clubbing, I think it’s time we called an end to naming everything it’s own Goddamn day. Kk? Our morbidly obese nation doesn’t need a National Pancake Day or a National Potato Chip Day or a National Crown Roast of Pork Day. Seriously. That’s a day. The only problem is I wish they could have been a little more specific.
There is the more general Poultry Day, but that only makes me ask: Does anyone really need to be reminded about poultry? “Oh, yeah, chicken. I totally forgot all about chicken.”
I also question the need, and even more so the desire, for a National Frozen Food Day. Have people ever rejoiced in a cold, hard slab of frozen grey meat? Is frozen food a cause for celebration? “Here, Honey, I got you a Hungry Man dinner for National Frozen Foods Day! I hope you like it!”
Certainly, we don’t need National Donut Day as if the donut has fallen into disfavor.
Granted, National Dance Day is a healthy and happy holiday, but I still don’t understand why we have it or what it’s for or what it’s suppose to accomplish. In my research of all stupid, made-up holidays I also found many other interesting, non-food related holidays. There’s National Pharmacist Day. Huh? International Dog Biscuit Appreciation day. Wha? National Handwriting Day. Purpose? National If Pets Had Thumbs Day (Ok, now that one we need). And, National Squirrel Appreciation Day. ??
Now that squirrel has a shot at being appreciated.
But wait, there’s more –>
Coming at you live from Scary Mommy (holla!) my piece on kicking my kids to the curb. Literally. Come September those rug rats are walking themselves to school.
If you’re a long-time reader, you know I already kick my kids to the curb years ago, and my life has been the better for it. But as with all the pieces I write, this one is a timeless classic, and it serves as a good reminder to the other parents out there that they, too, should unburden themselves of their children as early and often as possible. I want to reach out to as many parents as possible with my wisdom and knowledge. Because I’m here to help. So what are you waiting for? Go over and read it.
Don’t forget for even more fun follow me on Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter. And, never miss a thing by entering your email address right over there –> to the right because I don’t know how to enter it here (I’m a writer not a coder!).
Day 9: I don’t have long now. I am very weak. I fear by the time you receive this I might be gone. The outcome of summer lock-down with my kids is unclear, but I want you to know I held out for as long as I could. I waited. Every day I waited, scanning the horizon looking for re-enforcements. But they never came. I’m determined to put up a valiant fight, but in the end I may not be strong enough.
For as long as I am able, I will continue to write, numbering the days, that way you’ll be able to piece together my final moments and what, ultimately, lead to my untimely demise – in case Jon Krakauer ever wants to write a book about my brave yet failed struggle for survival. It’ll be just like Krakauer’s account of Christopher McCandless, the young transient from a wealthy family who disappeared after college to live off the land in the Alaskan bush alone, which Krakauer chronicled in Into the Wild based on the journal he left behind.
When I started writing this piece that journal immediately sprang to mind. How similar our two stories were - except I’m not in Alaska, and I don’t have to gut a moose for survival or live in an abandoned, hollowed-out school bus without heat or water for the entire duration of the Alaskan winter. So maybe our stories aren’t exactly identical, still the fact remains. My life is in danger.
Listen to what happened.
But wait, there’s more –>
I was on vacation last week and off the internets for five glorious days. I gotta say it was pretty nice. The weather was perfect, the ocean crystalline, the waves phenomenal. And I’m a little sad now just thinking about it.
So I haven’t been bringing my A game to the blogosphere, but we all need a break sometime. To make up for it and to thank you for your patience and undying loyalty, I’m gonna start off with a bang.
Did you hear that? Fact. Think about it. It has to be. I know, personally, I’d never shoot my husband while he was doing the dishes.
I’d wait till after. (Just kidding. I’d never shoot my husband.) At least, I wouldn’t shoot him and write about it on the internet. That would be dumb. Here’s another fact for ya because I like to spread knowledge.
My husband does that to me all the time. Then he claims he said it first. Which can lead to arguments. But, guys, I have some helpful advice for you when you’re having a disagreement with your lady.
So that’s one way. But wait, there’s more –>
What are you sitting around for? You have work to do. Photo credit: sofi01 via photopin cc
You know how you expect the Tooth Fairy to be on her game? I mean, it’s little kids we are talking about here. We don’t want to disappoint them. Or, more importantly, have to explain why the Tooth Fairy was a no-show. Well, on more than one occasion I have found myself in the rather awkward position of having to cover for our incompetent Tooth Fairy. I really don’t know why she can’t seem to get it right. The responsibilities of the job are fairly straight forward.
Well, today my unfortunate experiences with our no-good, lazy, rotten Tooth Fairy is over on Mamalode. Go on over and check it out.