Re-launched, but still slightly under construction. :-)

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Do not call at 1 a.m. and chomp Doritos in my ear, druggie

Wednesday, February 29, 2012 By

It's after midnight when my phone rings. Holy crap, someone's dead.

"Hello?" I croak, sleep and the remnants of bronchitis clouding my voice.

I hear chewing. Chewing! Whose parents did not teach them phone manners? THIS GUY.

" 'ey," he chomps.

"Hello," I spit, through gritted teeth.

"Uhh.... [crunch crunch] Who's this?"

(sigh) "Probably not the person you're looking for."

"Uh, well, [chomp, smack] I was calling about someone who has Oxy for sale. My back is really killing me."

"Definitely not the person you're looking for."

"But-"

[CLICK]

I miss the days when I could slam down a phone. Cordless and cell phones don't really drive the point home.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Burn!

Monday, February 27, 2012 By

So after three days off due to bronchitis, I returned, triumphantly, to work. There was no ticker-tape parade, but I felt like a winner because I was there instead of in bed.

Boss: "You take off more time than Obama! But, unlike Obama, we're actually glad to see you when you return."

Me (snicker): "Thanks just so much."

Boss: "How are you feeling?"

Me: "Meh."

Boss: "Yeah, you look bad."

Me (grin): "That is not how you talk to a lady."

Boss: "I know."

HA! Working with smart people has its benefits...sometimes.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Jamaican me crazy

Friday, February 24, 2012 By

Me: "You're going on a mission trip to Jamaica?"

Amy: "Yeah."

Me (snicker): "To convert the heathen Jamaicans?"

Amy: "NO. Dork. We're organizing a women's conference."

Me: "Oh, that'll be awesome! Have a great time!"

Amy: "We're also bringing lettuce."

Me: "Lettuce? Because lettuce is a staple of Jamaican cuisine?"

Amy: "Yeah, I don't really know."

Me: "Well, you can't have a jerk chicken salad without lettuce."

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

You people do not appreciate me nearly enough

Wednesday, February 22, 2012 By No comments

Emerson and I were walking across the Georgia Health Sciences University campus, chatting, on the way to my car. She's in a goofy mood and repeatedly head-butts me in the butt.

"Doodle, cut it out. You're bruising my bootie!"

She laughs. "Okay, mama. Wull, tell me a story, then."

"Okay.... how about a joke? Knock-knock."

"Who's der?"

"Impatient cow."

"Impatient -" "MOOO!"

She stops and shakes her head at me, with a wry grin. "Tomorrow? Bring a better joke."

Damn!

"Hey, that was a good joke!" I protest.

"No," she giggles.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes, it was."

"Wull, maybe a little bit funny."

"Yes."

"Okay, it was pretty good."

"Well, thanks so much."

Monday, February 20, 2012

One item crossed off my life goals

Monday, February 20, 2012 By

I really didn't get this Pinterest thing until I thought of a way to use it that made sense to me. And, lo, the best comment I have ever received followed shortly thereafter:


Friday, February 17, 2012

Who's getting rich quick? (Not this girl)

Friday, February 17, 2012 By

"Okay, I have this. Million dollar idea," I burst into Allison's office. I am all Kramer up in this joint.

We are always sharing our genius inventions. One day, we will actually have one. But then I'll get distracted by shiny and evil genius Channing Sherman will overhear me and run with it, waving goodbye to us as he sails away in a boat made entirely out of money.

"Okay, let's hear it," Allison says.

"Chocolate. Salad."

"... How... How would that work, exactly?"

"I have no idea. But if we can invent it, we are set."

She is not impressed with this idea. Chocolate and salad are two things that people generally don't think of as going together but if we can somehow satisfy chocolate cravings with a healthy salad...! Besides, the juxtaposition is what's genius about it! It's unexpected! Right? RIGHT??

Alright, fine, haters! What are YOUR genius ideas?



Wednesday, February 15, 2012

All I wanted was to find an apartment

Wednesday, February 15, 2012 By


Monday, February 13, 2012

You down with OPC? Yeah, you know me.

I'm down with Other People's Children. But some kids get on my nerves. Yes, I said it. I don't like your child, random mom at the park.

"What's that you're playing?" asked a boy of 8 or 9 years old, as I simultaneously killed the walking dead and watched Emerson on the playground.

"A zombie-shooting game. Rated M for mature."

"Can I play?"

"Not this time, sweetie."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

(stomp) "PLEASE?!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's my phone."

"Please?"

"No."

"WHY NOT?!"

"Because I'm not going to hand over a $300 phone to a child I've never met."

A few seconds pass.

"Sweetie, please move your head out if the way. ... Please move your head out of the way. ... Move your head, please... Young man, cut it out."

"Can I play?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I already told you. But an additional reason is also that you're being rude."

He covers my screen with his hand. My character dies. I am not ruling out the possibility that he could, too. I never raise my voice to him, but I am irritated at his attempt to bully me.

"Well, you just ensured that you will never, as long as you live, be allowed to play with my phone."

"Why?"

"Because you are rude."

He tries to snatch the phone away. I do not raise my voice.

"Kid, get outta here before I tell your parents that you just tried to steal my phone."

He leaves.

Good.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Flights of fancy

We're at the park, and Em has made yet another group of instant friends. They run, breathless, to where I am lounging on one of the wooden play structures (the better to keep an eye on them).

"Are you her mom?" one boy asks.

"Why, yes, I am. How are you today?"

"Good. When do y'all transform into fairies?"

I look at Em. She is chagrined. Busted.

"Em? Tell him when we transform into fairies."

"Uh, well, only at night," she says, cautiously, visibly hoping I don't plan on ratting her out.

"There you go. Only at night," I tell the curious boy. They sprint away.

"Em?" I call.

"Yes?"

I frown and shake my head.

She nods. "Okay, mama."

I want to encourage her creativity - I do. But I want to channel it away from creating some inaccurate mythology about herself. To focus her on all the good things she has in her life now, as opposed to how great life could be if she had magic powers. Because wouldn't all of our lives be transformed by magic powers? But they don't exist. Basically, I want her to stay grounded.

A while later, they run up to me again.

"I turn into a bat at night," the boy tells me.

"Well, that is quite the magic power," I reply. Just then his mother calls him over and he runs off, giving me a few moments with Emerson before he returns.

"Hey," I say.

"What?"

"What do you think I want to talk to you about right now?" I ask.

"Umm... prolly that I lied to him about being a fairy."

"Well, 'lie' might be a stronger word than I would like, but it's accurate. These stories are fun, Emmie, but you're just as cool without magic powers. You're smart, funny, a hard worker, beautiful, kind and fun to play with. You don't have to be a fairy on top of all that."

She grins and hugs me. "Fanks, mom. I'll tell him the truth."

"You mean Bat Boy?" I grin, and she giggles. "I think it's okay to continue playing your make-believe game for now. Just remember that it's make-believe."

Bat Boy runs up to me again. "I'm a baaaaat!!" he screams, and his mother chides him from her bench. We wave and smile at each other.

"Well, that's nice. Maybe we can fly around together," I joke, and Emerson giggles again.

"No," he says. "Because I would eat you up. I'm a bat."

And they run off again to play. Fairy Girl and Bat Boy. Supernatural creatures. Natural enemies. Instant friends. 



Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Love notes

I put a note in Emerson's lunchbox. It said: "Emerson, I hope you have a great day at school. I love you very much. Have fun at ballet! Love, Mom. P.S. - There is a special treat in here for you." And I put a square of Dove chocolate in her lunch.

Well, apparently, she opened her lunch to check the contents. Because in my folder at work, I found this note:


It says, "Mom, I (heart) you. You are special to me. I do not need a treat. You are my surprise! You are a special girl and you are a big big big surprise! You are my Valentimes. Love, Emmie. (smiley heart man)"


Yes, that's right. My kid is The Best Kid on the Whole Planet!