Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Putting the "Strange" in "Stranger"

I've only been back to the Wonderful World of Myspace for what? a day? maybe two??? and already it's been Open Season for weirdos. I'm sure this is why the term is "Stranger" and not "non-acquaintance."

First, there was Stranger Scott, who was a little confused that I listed my location as "The Devil's Buttcrack" and wanted some clarification. Sure, yeah, I'll give him that. Next up in the line of queries was "ru single?" Um, ru kidding? I'm sorry, call me old fashioned, but if you don't have the time, let alone the attention to detail, required to type out the extra FOUR LETTERS to make that sentence grammatically correct, then buddy, there's no way you've got the time and attention-to-detail required to make it to first base* with me. (*Second base if I'm drunk, I ain't gonna lie.) As if that wasn't enough, he closed the email by signing his name as "Scotti". Nick-names, sure they're endearing. I go by mine all the time! But, I don't know, maybe save it until you've exchanged the introductory email? And what's with the i instead of the traditional y? Something about the i immediately emasculates him in my mind, and aside from that, I'm totally annoyed. I think I've got Irritable Vowel Syndrome.

Next up: Someone with a picture of Prince Charming as his default photo, with the title "You Know The Name". No, actually, I don't know the name, but if I had to guess it would be Something Is Wrong With Me Because I'm 32 And Have A Disney Cartoon of a Prince As My Photo. (Maybe that was just too long.) Mr. Latent Homosexual (Or Child Molester) told me I was stunning despite the fact that I have no nose in my default picture. He'd also really appreciate if I would holla back at him. Unfortunately, I'm all out of holla at this present time. (Maybe I should have linked him to Jesse?)

Next came Jonathan, who at first I thought might be Jonathan I Actually Know In Real Life. Alas, it was Stranger Jonathan, who just wanted to know "Whazzzzup and where da party at? I see you around town and at your work and you be fly." Um. Yeah. Da party is at the police department, where I'll be filling out a restraining order.

Most disturbing, however, is Rocky. Rocky wanted to know if I would like to earn an extra $200-$600, because he has piles of money to give away and really likes to see how crazy people will get for it. I think I've heard about that somewhere, and I think it's called Prostitution, but I'm not sure. Now, on rare occasion I'll talk to just about anybody who sends a drink my way, but that's just manners, ok? Something about a stranger dangling money over my head under the condition that I do something crazy for it just makes the Weirdometer go off. People do it on Fear Factor all the time, yes, but they also do it on Indio Boulevard, and I just got the feeling that Rocky's definition was less "eat a cockroach" and more "eat my cock."

Why, just in the time it took me to write this, I got a friend request from
this really lame boy band and an invitation to join the group Frankie's Pimp House. The Pimp House got denied, but I'm actually considering adding the band, just in case I can be around when they all realize that trying to pull of heterosexuality is futile and they're in love with each other.

If this is any indication of what MySpace is going to be like, all I have to say is I'm damn glad to be back. Sure, it was nice taking a break, but I was running out of people in real life to make fun of. I used to say that it interfered with my writing, but I'm going to use this post as evidence to the contrary.

Friday, July 07, 2006

And I think to myself...

Have you ever met somebody, bonded with them, and then tried to remember what it was like before you knew and loved them? Have you ever answered the question "How did you meet?" with, "Well, through a friend of a friend of a friend?" I have the internet eqivalent of that, and it's the site Crazy Hip Blog Mamas. Although I might be on the wilder, more unconventional end of the spectrum of Mamas, I have lost hours reading the blogs of the members, laughing and crying and knowing exactly what they mean.

Long story short- I know, TOO LATE!- every so often, they post a Writing Prompt, and it's that time again. It's not an assignment or a competition, but a collaboration to a group that I would love to contribute something to. I can't give every Mama a pedicure or bake cookies for every child in the world, but it's nice to be a part of something and I gotta earn my keep somehow. Let's face it- answering a question is a lot easier than dealing with dirty Mommy Feet (no offense, mine are the worst!) and probably more appreciated than loading kids up with sugar ("Junior get off the ceiling this instant!").


Q: "What song/movie best tells the story of your life/family?"
A:
There are no movies that I can compare my life and family to. No movies, but plenty of Soap Operas. All My Children, for one. The Young and the Restless! Daze (I totally meant to do that) of Our Lives. (Ha! But I digress!) So I ruled movies out pretty quickly, and started racking my brain for songs. Music is more my thing anyway, there has to be something... (Elapsed Time: 27 hours) No, nothing really here either. Instead of dwelling so much on finding something that mimics my life, I figured that I'd be better off just trying to identify with something that can describe it. What's my anthem?

When I'm going out, I have to play "Bad Reputation" by Joan Jett. When I'm working out, I listen to Metroid The Band. When I need a pick-me-up, it's "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure, and nothing makes traffic more tolerable than Boston's "More Than A Feeling." When I think about my life, as a whole, and the family I come from and the family I've made, the one song that sums it all up is What A Wonderful World. (Not to loose all street cred, I'd like to add that my favorite version is the Joey Ramone cover, although the original by Louis Armstrong is divine. Obviously.) The song, like me, expresses the sentiments that life is great and we're lucky to be living it. Is getting a flat tire really that bad- we have red roses and fluffy clouds and people to share them with. Even when you have a bad day... you have a new one tomorrow. Usually this song inspires me to get lost in optimistic existential thought, and by the time it gets to the line "I see babies cry, and I watch them grow/ They'll learn much more than we'll ever know", I can't help but tear up. What mother doesn't think her world has been made a wonderful place only because of the child(ren) we've been granted to show it to? Who isn't humbled by the thought of that? A chocolate shake is DAMN good in and of itself, but something as simple as watching as my kids get their first taste of the magic that happens when you mix chocolate syrup, milk, and plain old vanilla ice cream together makes me giddy. Our world, with terrorism and taxes and people who tip less than 15%, might not be perfect, but when someone looks up at you and says, "I wub you, Mommy!", it sure is wonderful. I might be discontent with my job, with my relationship status, with my laundry pile taller than my six-year-old, and my bank account that is so low that afformentioned six year old can count higher than my current balance... but at least somebody wubs me.

Through the terrible twos and the teens and probably every year in between, I might need Joey Ramone to remind me of that every now and then.

Monday, July 03, 2006

I wanna be a lexicographer when I grow up!

I was out with friends over the weekend, and Boy-Crazy-Gina was practically getting whiplash as she checked out every boy that walked past.

I coined a phrase that the punster in me is quite proud of, although I responsibly share all credit with my two friends Jack and Coca-Cola. (Actually, just one friend- separate yet inseparable, in the manner of Siamese Twins.)

"Gina's got her radar going tonight... No, no- wait a second- Gina's got her LAY-dar going tonight!"

::giggles::

This officially wins me a star on the Geek Walk Of Fame.