The following is an exchange that took place Friday morning between me and my sister, Skinny Girl. You can feel the love. (We weren’t serious…just so you know).
Background:
I sent out an email to close friends and coworkers to see if they would sponsor Auburn Aries in Run for the Arts.
The Email Thread:
Morning,
Just wanted to check with all of you and see how you'd feel about sponsoring Auburn Aries in Young Audiences' Run for the Arts. Young Audiences is a non-profit arts in education organization that helps the school raise funding for educational arts experiences, classroom workshops, field trips, artists performances and residencies.
It's a tax deductible donation. They have 45 - 60 minutes (sorry, can't remember which) to run/walk a quarter mile track. You can make a flat donation or a pledge based on the number of laps she completes. The run is on October 21st. Donations need to be collected by November 4th.
I have the form at my desk and would be happy to add you to it if you're interested.
Thanks!
Auburn Pisces
Reply from Skinny Girl:
Hey bunghole - you've still not cashed the check I gave you back in February for one of Aries’ school things. It was for $14.00. What's the deal man?
AP response:
Oh hell fuzzy! What the Sam Hell is going on here?! Horse shit Julie. Like I know where that effing check is at. Add the $$ back into your account. I'm sure I covered the cost and if I find the check, I'll shred it. So what? I lose one gawd damn check and so you're sayin no, you won't sponsor a poor child hungry for the arts? What a bitch!
SG:
Listen here you whore. I have been trying to balance my effing checkbook for MONTHS and it's been hell because of YOU. You want money, I give you money, you don't use money. MAKE UP YOUR EFFING MIND!!!!!!!!! Yeah, I'll give you more money, cash this biotch.
AP:
You dirty rahhhhht. If it was a big gd deal, you'd have called my f*cking ass months ago m*therf*cker - so quit'cher belly achin. And if you'd reread the original email it asks for a GD PLEDGE YOU *SSHOLE so belly up and sponsor my bratty kid. NOW
SG:
Why you lyin' piece-o-shit. I did call your goofy ass MONTHS ago and you said.... AND I QUOTE: "Hmmm, wonder what I did with that check? I'll look for it sis and get back to you". Yep that was the last I heard about that. As usual, I got tossed to the back friggin' burner to simmer all alone. That's it. I'm sick of you sons-a-bitches treatin' me like dirt. Nice. Nice to know I'm at the top of YOUR m*therf*ckin' priority list. Family. Right. Gawd, kiss my white ass!!!
AP:
So, you're in for sponsoring her again then?!?!
SG:
Bah ha ha - okay.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Friday, October 14, 2005
No Naughty Nurses
With Halloween coming, Auburn Aries is again perplexed by what she should be. And with me not being one of those “super-Moms” with plenty of time to spare to sew a costume, I end up waiting until the last minute to help her figure it out. I hate doing this because it just creates stress.
We went over to Fairy Godmother’s house last night and Aries helped her build the life-size ghoul Godmother puts in her front window every year. Doesn’t matter how often I see them build the damn thing, every time I walk outside and look at it with the light shining up on it from the floor it freaks me out.
This is also why I don’t participate in Haunted Houses. I scare easily. It’s why when I saw What Lies Beneath in the movie theatre with Grouchy Girl, I jumped out of my seat and knocked a 32 ounce Pepsi in her lap. I can’t watch scary movies alone. I own Butterfly Effect and won’t watch it. The Grudge is playing on HBO right now and The Math Whiz told me that it scared the living shit out of him so I won’t watch that either.
There needs to be someone sitting next to me whose flesh I can claw when I’m scared. That same person needs to plan on sleeping in my bed so that even when the security alarm on the house is activated, they’ll hold me tight because of what already exists inside the house and the potential for those entities to “get me.”
Unreasonable? Perhaps. But just because I can’t SEE it, doesn’t mean it’s not there.
I know there are costume shops out there but when you have an eight year old who is 4’10” it seems hard to find an age appropriate costume that will work for her. In this morning’s edition of The Oregonian it said that adults are spending 84% more on costumes this year than last, according to Shopping.com, and online searches for sexy costumes have jumped by 180% on that website over the past two weeks.
I know every year I hit the Halloween Shops that sprout up all over the city and find that Aries can no longer shop in the little kids section. And when we contemplate what’s out there in adult sizes, it’s so racy that I have to explain to her that she’s too young to dress like slut! Okay, I don’t say it like that but…
That same article listed the top five costumes that are best-sellers to date:
Women’s Sexy Tuxedo, 785 costumes sold
Jessica Rabbit, 527 costumes sold
Tinkerbell, 511 costumes sold
Belly dancer, 388 costumes sold
Naughty nurse, 377 costumes sold.
Don’t think for a second that theme doesn’t roll out into stores. It does. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate seeing a hot woman wearing one of these costumes. But for right now, I don’t ever want to see my daughter in one of those costumes.
The day she’s old enough to wear and buy a Naughty Nurse costume, might well be the day you find my lifeless body sitting in my car in my garage with ignition still running!
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
A Birthday Bash Crash
Because I am a Pagan and don’t have the burden of carrying around religious guilt like someone I know, I have decided to finally write about this last weekend and Hot Toddy’s birthday. I wanted to give him a couple days to finally be able to laugh about the events that took place. Well, that time has passed.
A Story
by Auburn Pisces
The day began with an 8 a.m. wake up call by blasting Gwen Stefani’s Hollaback Girl on the stereo, and shouting that it was time to get up. Hot Toddy’s birthday celebration needed to begin.
I had invited our family over: Metro and Juju, The Handsome Prince and The Math Whiz, Pony and Chopper, and The Toddtender and made a breakfast consisting of eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and bisquits and sausage gravy. Flowing plentifully were the Mimosa’s and Bloody Mary’s. Everyone stood around and talked and laughed – it was great.
As I looked around the house at the people I have in my life, I realized how incredibly blessed I am. Having our little family of friends together felt like home and fulfilled the need I have for the love of a family that I miss so desperately.
Okay, enough girl shit. Moving on…
Fast forward through the installation of the CD player into Dolly (Todd’s car). “Man, I feel like such a grown up now, having a CD player in my car.”
Fast forward through hanging out at Pony’s new house, The Pony Palace. Fast forward through standing in Pony’s coat closet because it smells EXACTLY like Young Stud and I couldn’t get enough of the scent.
Fast forward through tacos for dinner and watching a movie. Fast forward through a 30 minute nap.
Fast forward to C.C. Slaughter’s where the real story begins.
We arrived at 9 p.m. soon thereafter joined by Pony and Chopper. The bartender brought us the usual Margarita and Maker’s neat. The Margaritas were perfect that night. I was well-rested and looking forward to a long night of partying.
The Bar-back, heretofore referred to as Built Bar-Back (BBB), came by the bar and offered Hot Toddy a couple of shots for his birthday. I believe it was BBB’s intention to assist Toddy in his birthday buzz and to watch him cringe as he surprised him with whatever concoction he put into the bucket glasses o’ buzz he was serving him.
Toddy downed the first shot and winced at the taste. Wild Turkey. Ew. On the second shot (I think it was a mix of Maker’s and Wild Turkey and Yukon) BBB gave him, Toddy hesitated.
“Drink that and I’ll rip this t-shirt right off my body and give it to you for your birthday.”
It was zero to sixty in 2.3 seconds. With a swift backward tip of Hot’s head the shot was gone. All that was left was the long, uncontrolled shudder of another nasty shot. Toddy slammed the glass back down on the bar and looked at BBB with anticipation… as did we all.
BBB reached up to the crewneck of what appeared to be a brand new t-shirt and ripped it wide open right down the center of his tan, taut torso. Geezus, this guy’s body is so tight. We all cheered. Toddy quickly bunched the shirt up and held it to his face trying to inhale whatever scent was left by BBB. Unfortunately there was no scent on the shirt. I know because I demanded Toddy share the shirt long enough for me to see what BBB smelled like as well!
Throughout the course of our visit to C.C.’s Toddy disappeared several times to take what I thought were incoming calls on his cell. Turns out he was disappearing to drunk dial people…all over America. To those of you who received the calls, yours was but a brief encounter with Drunk Toddy. Keep reading and feel my pain!
So lot’s of laughter and flirting and drinking of free shots later (it was 10:30 p.m.) I looked over at Toddy and realized that he had lost his 6’6” frame to a slumped over, one-eyed blob of man slumped over the bar. I started to laugh – not because it was funny (though it was) but because I knew at that moment, my night just got a lot longer! I had no idea how I was going to maneuver him into and out of my car or get him into the house.
BBB walked up and I pointed out the buzz level to which Toddy had fallen victim. BBB cheered that he helped Hot get fucked up on his birthday. It was at this point that I told BBB that I was going to have to kick his ass.
I began to coordinate my departure with Pony when one of the bartenders came up and told me that in as much as he didn’t want to have to do it, he was going to have to ask me to get Todd out of the bar because of his visible intoxication level. I was already on it.
I pulled my car around to the front of the bar to find The Huge Bouncer and Pony and Chopper carrying Todd out of the bar. It was like Todd had no bones! Toddy was standing there, body wrapped around a sign pole with this drunken grin on his face. The boys poured him into my car and I drove him back to my house.
All the way home, I strategized how I was going to get Todd out of my car. I’m 5’10” and well, a girl. I was no match for a drunken giant man with no bones!
I pulled into my driveway, unlocked the front door, opened the passenger door of my Camry and began my escapade.
I grabbed Toddy by his lapels – wads of coat in each fist, took a wide stance and heaved. Nothing. I took another deep breath and pulled. Still nothing. It was like I was Chicken Little trying to lug Foghorn Leghorn out of a recliner. There was no way I was going to be able to get him out of the car.
There he sat comfortably passed out in my car oblivious to my plight while I was trying to hoist him out of the car - my back arched so far back I was actually looking up at the stars!
“TODDY! TODDY…YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP. IT’S TIME TO GO INSIDE.”
He stirred. With arms like lead and an inability to assist my efforts, I place his hands on either side of the car door frame and on the count of three, I got him to his feet. He staggered a couple of giant steps sideways at which point I yanked him back the other direction slamming him into the side of my car.
I again grabbed his lapels pulling him toward me as I walked backwards coaching him step by step toward the front of the car. Unfortunately, the car ran out and his momentum carried him forward right into the side of my house. I let him go knowing the house would break his fall.
I stood there taking in some deep breaths contemplating my next move when all of a sudden I heard this roar. It was not the roar of a mighty lion but rather my best friend hurling his guts up all over my front walk. Seven times. Seven times people. Who has that much puke? Seriously! I kept my back to him until I was certain he was at a stopping point.
If I weren’t Aries’ Mom and was not used to the sounds and smells of someone else’s puking, I would have been a sympathy puker in a hot second. Instead I watched as Toddy headed for the banister around my front porch. He leaned over and hurled two more times. I wasn’t so much worried about his puking as I was about the incredibly loud gagging noises he made while he dry-heaved. I honestly expected lights in the neighborhood to start flipping on to see what the raucous was.
I grabbed the water hose and hosed off the patio and the flowerbed pushing everything to the street. By the time I was done, he was ready for round two.
I grabbed his coat again and guided him up the two steps in front of my house and then in my front door. I turned him toward the stairs and ran around behind him so he wouldn’t fall on me as I got him into the bedroom downstairs.
“WE’RE GOING DOWN THE STEPS, TODDY. READY.. TAKE A STEP.”
He extended his right leg and it landed square on the first step.
“READY. STEP.”
As he lifted his left leg, his pants fell down around his ankles. I started laughing and couldn’t stop. All I could think about was how unfair it was that I was the only person to see this comedy of errors happening.
“My pants! My pants fell down. Dammit! I gotta get my pants.”
“LEAVE EM!” I commanded. “Just tell me you’re wearing undies, Todd.”
He was.
Step-by-step I guided him down the stairs with his Levi’s bunched below the tops of his cowboy boots. He took little baby steps, scooting his feet like a little kid – a little drunk kid – bouncing off the counters and appliances in the downstairs kitchen like a pinball.
I got him into the bedroom and planted him at the foot of the bed, right in the very center. Assuring he was okay, I ran upstairs to pee and on my way back down heard a loud thud. Thinking he knocked over the floor lamp I rounded the corner to find Toddy laying on the floor between the bed and the wall – on his back, long-ass legs and feet in the air.
“I fell,” he slurred.
“Gee, ya think?!?!”
He had managed to get his boots and pants off and now laid before me in his shirt, undies and socks helpless, as I laughed. Having no coat to grab this time I offered the pillow and the comforter to the floor to which he agreed. In the amount of time it took me to grab the comforter he somehow found the momentum to get up onto the bed and immediately passed out.
I stood in the doorway to the bedroom and shook my head.
Now, I know I’m a good friend to people. I always try to be there for those I love. Doesn’t matter what they need, I will always try to help. I believe that Karma is a powerful thing, do unto others and all that…shit. But I’ve got to tell you, as I stood there making sure my best friend was breathing okay, I realized that my Karmic bank account was going to be full for a very, very long time!
As I walked away from the bedroom, I reminded Toddy of one last thing…”Fucker, you’re gonna owe me for a long, long time…”
A Story
by Auburn Pisces
The day began with an 8 a.m. wake up call by blasting Gwen Stefani’s Hollaback Girl on the stereo, and shouting that it was time to get up. Hot Toddy’s birthday celebration needed to begin.
I had invited our family over: Metro and Juju, The Handsome Prince and The Math Whiz, Pony and Chopper, and The Toddtender and made a breakfast consisting of eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and bisquits and sausage gravy. Flowing plentifully were the Mimosa’s and Bloody Mary’s. Everyone stood around and talked and laughed – it was great.
As I looked around the house at the people I have in my life, I realized how incredibly blessed I am. Having our little family of friends together felt like home and fulfilled the need I have for the love of a family that I miss so desperately.
Okay, enough girl shit. Moving on…
Fast forward through the installation of the CD player into Dolly (Todd’s car). “Man, I feel like such a grown up now, having a CD player in my car.”
Fast forward through hanging out at Pony’s new house, The Pony Palace. Fast forward through standing in Pony’s coat closet because it smells EXACTLY like Young Stud and I couldn’t get enough of the scent.
Fast forward through tacos for dinner and watching a movie. Fast forward through a 30 minute nap.
Fast forward to C.C. Slaughter’s where the real story begins.
We arrived at 9 p.m. soon thereafter joined by Pony and Chopper. The bartender brought us the usual Margarita and Maker’s neat. The Margaritas were perfect that night. I was well-rested and looking forward to a long night of partying.
The Bar-back, heretofore referred to as Built Bar-Back (BBB), came by the bar and offered Hot Toddy a couple of shots for his birthday. I believe it was BBB’s intention to assist Toddy in his birthday buzz and to watch him cringe as he surprised him with whatever concoction he put into the bucket glasses o’ buzz he was serving him.
Toddy downed the first shot and winced at the taste. Wild Turkey. Ew. On the second shot (I think it was a mix of Maker’s and Wild Turkey and Yukon) BBB gave him, Toddy hesitated.
“Drink that and I’ll rip this t-shirt right off my body and give it to you for your birthday.”
It was zero to sixty in 2.3 seconds. With a swift backward tip of Hot’s head the shot was gone. All that was left was the long, uncontrolled shudder of another nasty shot. Toddy slammed the glass back down on the bar and looked at BBB with anticipation… as did we all.
BBB reached up to the crewneck of what appeared to be a brand new t-shirt and ripped it wide open right down the center of his tan, taut torso. Geezus, this guy’s body is so tight. We all cheered. Toddy quickly bunched the shirt up and held it to his face trying to inhale whatever scent was left by BBB. Unfortunately there was no scent on the shirt. I know because I demanded Toddy share the shirt long enough for me to see what BBB smelled like as well!
Throughout the course of our visit to C.C.’s Toddy disappeared several times to take what I thought were incoming calls on his cell. Turns out he was disappearing to drunk dial people…all over America. To those of you who received the calls, yours was but a brief encounter with Drunk Toddy. Keep reading and feel my pain!
So lot’s of laughter and flirting and drinking of free shots later (it was 10:30 p.m.) I looked over at Toddy and realized that he had lost his 6’6” frame to a slumped over, one-eyed blob of man slumped over the bar. I started to laugh – not because it was funny (though it was) but because I knew at that moment, my night just got a lot longer! I had no idea how I was going to maneuver him into and out of my car or get him into the house.
BBB walked up and I pointed out the buzz level to which Toddy had fallen victim. BBB cheered that he helped Hot get fucked up on his birthday. It was at this point that I told BBB that I was going to have to kick his ass.
I began to coordinate my departure with Pony when one of the bartenders came up and told me that in as much as he didn’t want to have to do it, he was going to have to ask me to get Todd out of the bar because of his visible intoxication level. I was already on it.
I pulled my car around to the front of the bar to find The Huge Bouncer and Pony and Chopper carrying Todd out of the bar. It was like Todd had no bones! Toddy was standing there, body wrapped around a sign pole with this drunken grin on his face. The boys poured him into my car and I drove him back to my house.
All the way home, I strategized how I was going to get Todd out of my car. I’m 5’10” and well, a girl. I was no match for a drunken giant man with no bones!
I pulled into my driveway, unlocked the front door, opened the passenger door of my Camry and began my escapade.
I grabbed Toddy by his lapels – wads of coat in each fist, took a wide stance and heaved. Nothing. I took another deep breath and pulled. Still nothing. It was like I was Chicken Little trying to lug Foghorn Leghorn out of a recliner. There was no way I was going to be able to get him out of the car.
There he sat comfortably passed out in my car oblivious to my plight while I was trying to hoist him out of the car - my back arched so far back I was actually looking up at the stars!
“TODDY! TODDY…YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP. IT’S TIME TO GO INSIDE.”
He stirred. With arms like lead and an inability to assist my efforts, I place his hands on either side of the car door frame and on the count of three, I got him to his feet. He staggered a couple of giant steps sideways at which point I yanked him back the other direction slamming him into the side of my car.
I again grabbed his lapels pulling him toward me as I walked backwards coaching him step by step toward the front of the car. Unfortunately, the car ran out and his momentum carried him forward right into the side of my house. I let him go knowing the house would break his fall.
I stood there taking in some deep breaths contemplating my next move when all of a sudden I heard this roar. It was not the roar of a mighty lion but rather my best friend hurling his guts up all over my front walk. Seven times. Seven times people. Who has that much puke? Seriously! I kept my back to him until I was certain he was at a stopping point.
If I weren’t Aries’ Mom and was not used to the sounds and smells of someone else’s puking, I would have been a sympathy puker in a hot second. Instead I watched as Toddy headed for the banister around my front porch. He leaned over and hurled two more times. I wasn’t so much worried about his puking as I was about the incredibly loud gagging noises he made while he dry-heaved. I honestly expected lights in the neighborhood to start flipping on to see what the raucous was.
I grabbed the water hose and hosed off the patio and the flowerbed pushing everything to the street. By the time I was done, he was ready for round two.
I grabbed his coat again and guided him up the two steps in front of my house and then in my front door. I turned him toward the stairs and ran around behind him so he wouldn’t fall on me as I got him into the bedroom downstairs.
“WE’RE GOING DOWN THE STEPS, TODDY. READY.. TAKE A STEP.”
He extended his right leg and it landed square on the first step.
“READY. STEP.”
As he lifted his left leg, his pants fell down around his ankles. I started laughing and couldn’t stop. All I could think about was how unfair it was that I was the only person to see this comedy of errors happening.
“My pants! My pants fell down. Dammit! I gotta get my pants.”
“LEAVE EM!” I commanded. “Just tell me you’re wearing undies, Todd.”
He was.
Step-by-step I guided him down the stairs with his Levi’s bunched below the tops of his cowboy boots. He took little baby steps, scooting his feet like a little kid – a little drunk kid – bouncing off the counters and appliances in the downstairs kitchen like a pinball.
I got him into the bedroom and planted him at the foot of the bed, right in the very center. Assuring he was okay, I ran upstairs to pee and on my way back down heard a loud thud. Thinking he knocked over the floor lamp I rounded the corner to find Toddy laying on the floor between the bed and the wall – on his back, long-ass legs and feet in the air.
“I fell,” he slurred.
“Gee, ya think?!?!”
He had managed to get his boots and pants off and now laid before me in his shirt, undies and socks helpless, as I laughed. Having no coat to grab this time I offered the pillow and the comforter to the floor to which he agreed. In the amount of time it took me to grab the comforter he somehow found the momentum to get up onto the bed and immediately passed out.
I stood in the doorway to the bedroom and shook my head.
Now, I know I’m a good friend to people. I always try to be there for those I love. Doesn’t matter what they need, I will always try to help. I believe that Karma is a powerful thing, do unto others and all that…shit. But I’ve got to tell you, as I stood there making sure my best friend was breathing okay, I realized that my Karmic bank account was going to be full for a very, very long time!
As I walked away from the bedroom, I reminded Toddy of one last thing…”Fucker, you’re gonna owe me for a long, long time…”
Friday, October 07, 2005
Mission Impossible
Tomorrow is my best friend’s birthday. He’ll be 49. He’s a 49 year old gay boy with no life, no interests, no sense of humor, and no friends.
It’s sad.
He has a blog that no one reads. He’s terribly unattractive and none of the gay boys at CCs think he’s hot. In fact, he couldn’t find a man to love him with two hands and a flashlight.
I’ve tried and tried to be a true and loving friend to this irritating man but he doesn’t make it easy. Occasionally I like to go out and enjoy an alcoholic beverage but he drinks so little that he’s never comfortable in doing so. He’s not much of a social butterfly either. He’s very withdrawn.
Sometimes I just want to get together with a bunch of friends and go sing Karaoke (or watch, in my case) but this tragic, tragic man has no pipes and couldn’t hit a note if he had to.
And the arts. I love to go see plays but unfortunately he’s not well versed in the theatre community. And music…oh my hell…his taste in music is atrocious.
He does, however, know a LOT about cars. You can ask him just about anything and he’ll know the answer. Cars and…women. He knows a lot about women. In fact, just the other day he said to me, “I fuckin’ LOVE boobs.”
I’ll see what I can do to try and make his day special. I just don’t know how successful I’ll be – he’s very hard to please. Hmmph, some people’s kids.
It’s sad.
He has a blog that no one reads. He’s terribly unattractive and none of the gay boys at CCs think he’s hot. In fact, he couldn’t find a man to love him with two hands and a flashlight.
I’ve tried and tried to be a true and loving friend to this irritating man but he doesn’t make it easy. Occasionally I like to go out and enjoy an alcoholic beverage but he drinks so little that he’s never comfortable in doing so. He’s not much of a social butterfly either. He’s very withdrawn.
Sometimes I just want to get together with a bunch of friends and go sing Karaoke (or watch, in my case) but this tragic, tragic man has no pipes and couldn’t hit a note if he had to.
And the arts. I love to go see plays but unfortunately he’s not well versed in the theatre community. And music…oh my hell…his taste in music is atrocious.
He does, however, know a LOT about cars. You can ask him just about anything and he’ll know the answer. Cars and…women. He knows a lot about women. In fact, just the other day he said to me, “I fuckin’ LOVE boobs.”
I’ll see what I can do to try and make his day special. I just don’t know how successful I’ll be – he’s very hard to please. Hmmph, some people’s kids.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
It's all better
Before I left work on Tuesday, I jumped online to see if I could find Lion King tickets for Aries and I. I wanted our time together after our rough morning to be something really amazing. I reserved what I suspect were probably the last pair of tickets that were next to each other. I believe this because the woman at the will call counter snickered when I asked if there was any way to upgrade our limited view cheap-ass seats with anything else.
I must have apologized to Aries four or five times for the seats not being better. Orchestra A, Row K… Far left hand side facing the stage. Definitely could not see the entire stage. But it didn’t matter all that much. Not initially anyway.
When the show began, all the animals of Pride Rock emerged from the wings a few rows behind us. I tapped Aries on the shoulder and told her to turn around.
Her eyes were suddenly as big as saucers, her mouth fell open. Seeing the costuming for the show was breath-taking. Seeing my daughter blown away by it all was even better.
She watched intensely for about 90 seconds, turned and faced me and threw her arms around my neck. She hugged me and held me so tightly I didn’t think she was ever going to let go. I had to remind her she was missing the animals for her to finally release her death grip.
She said later she was almost going to cry she was so overwhelmed. That was the moment I wanted. Not her crying of course but just her and I, connected. It was another of the memories I’ll have with her that will stay with me the rest of my life.
The show was amazing. Unbelievable. Aries made me promise to take her again with Toddy and sitting in seats where she can see the entire stage. I’m such a snob about seating – good seating – that I really had to swallow hard to settle for limited view seats. I actually have a broker in Seattle for Mariner tickets in case I can’t get good seats otherwise. I won’t go to a game if the seats don’t meet my snobby expectations.
So now I have a new mission. Find three tickets to Lion King in Portland before the show ends at the end of the month. Good Lord...this is going to require knowing someone who knows someone who isn’t going to use their tickets. Wish me luck.
I must have apologized to Aries four or five times for the seats not being better. Orchestra A, Row K… Far left hand side facing the stage. Definitely could not see the entire stage. But it didn’t matter all that much. Not initially anyway.
When the show began, all the animals of Pride Rock emerged from the wings a few rows behind us. I tapped Aries on the shoulder and told her to turn around.
Her eyes were suddenly as big as saucers, her mouth fell open. Seeing the costuming for the show was breath-taking. Seeing my daughter blown away by it all was even better.
She watched intensely for about 90 seconds, turned and faced me and threw her arms around my neck. She hugged me and held me so tightly I didn’t think she was ever going to let go. I had to remind her she was missing the animals for her to finally release her death grip.
She said later she was almost going to cry she was so overwhelmed. That was the moment I wanted. Not her crying of course but just her and I, connected. It was another of the memories I’ll have with her that will stay with me the rest of my life.
The show was amazing. Unbelievable. Aries made me promise to take her again with Toddy and sitting in seats where she can see the entire stage. I’m such a snob about seating – good seating – that I really had to swallow hard to settle for limited view seats. I actually have a broker in Seattle for Mariner tickets in case I can’t get good seats otherwise. I won’t go to a game if the seats don’t meet my snobby expectations.
So now I have a new mission. Find three tickets to Lion King in Portland before the show ends at the end of the month. Good Lord...this is going to require knowing someone who knows someone who isn’t going to use their tickets. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Wish I Could Take it Back
I blew my stack this morning. I came unhinged. Everything was cool right up until just about the time we were gathering things up to walk out the door - or rather I was gathering things and getting ready to walk out the door. Aries was still dinking around in the bathroom.
She wanted a braid in her hair. She kept wanting to get back to a drawing on which she was working, one that I thought she had finished the night before. She still hadn't brushed her teeth. All the while getting exasperated with me because I didn't want to use her choice of the earrings I was going to wear today. Apparently I “never value [her] opinion and never listen to [her].”
As it turns out, her class is studying the moon - New Moon to New Moon - a one month project. Each night they are to observe the moon, etc., write about it, what it made you think about, how it made you feel, any questions you may have about it and draw a quick picture to accompany your notes. The picture she stayed up late drawing last night she had completely erased because it "wasn't good enough." Unbeknownst to me, this is why she was pushing to get back to her artwork this morning.
As we walked out the door 10 minutes late (I DETEST being late) and got into the car, I could hear her taking her artwork out of her backpack. When I glanced back, that's when I realized she had erased the perfect drawing she had drawn the night before.
I lost it.
It was a combination of the chaos that became our morning and realizing that she had put herself under the gun because she's not to work on this particular project at school.
I felt my temper creep up my spine as I tried to calm myself. I tried to remind myself it wasn't all her fault. My loose boundaries and treating her like she was older than eight years old was what got me in trouble. I needed to be stern and keep her on track. I failed - which made me only more pissed off.
The word vomit started. The "dammit, this isn't happening again" speech. The "no TV in the morning until you're ready for school" speech. The "I can't believe you erased all of your artwork from the night before, what were you thinking" speech. The "7:20, Aries, I want to leave this house by 7:20" speech.
I let her have it. When all the while, I was really letting myself have it and clearly using the wrong forum to do so.
She sat in the back seat working on her drawing, taking in my words like a seasoned adult. She's seen my temper before. I hate my temper. It's short and I usually do well controlling it, but it's a trait inherent to the bloodline in my family and at times it finds its way out through the weakest point - through that one thread that has loosened itself enough to start to unravel.
I looked at her and realized my words were piercing her heart. She wasn’t displaying the pain but the hurt she was feeling struck me and wrapped around me like a hurricane wind. What the hell was I thinking. This was no way to communicate my point to my little girl.
I stopped. I couldn’t speak. I turned on the stereo in the car and listened to some Patty Griffin. I searched for a way to make it right but the damage had been done. My behavior was a disgrace. She’s eight. Hell, I work with adults at work who don’t know how to take me and here I was dumping on Aries.
I finally found the words to apologize. I explained to her that she knows how I am in the morning and this isn’t new information. That we need to work together to be successful in getting out the door in the morning.
She said nothing.
I pulled up in front of the school and she grabbed her bag. I told her to have a good day knowing damn good and well I had fucked it up for her. What started out as a good day was now smothered by me being mad at her. I am her balance. I am the one consistent thing in her life. I am the one with whom she feels truly safe and I had just been mean to her.
I was a Mean Girl. A bitch.
She shut the car door without saying a word and glanced over her left shoulder giving me the eight year old version of the “fuck you” evil eye.
I rolled down the passenger window. “Aries…Try to have a good day. I’m sorry.”
She took three steps away from the car, stopped, turned and just looked at me – her spirit broken. My heart hit the floor. I could see the emotion finding its way out. “Mommy, can I please have a hug.”
By the time I opened my car door, she was standing there with tears welled up in her green eyes. She told me she was sorry. I said the same. I tried to tell her it wasn’t all her fault and that I should have handled things differently – but that’s not how an eight year old mind works. All she knew was that I was mad and it was her fault.
I told her we’d do something special tonight, just she and I, and that everything was okay.
She headed up the stairs to her school, tears still overwhelming her.
If I could, I would take it all back. Every single quick-tempered word I spoke to her this morning. But I can’t. All I can do is exist inside this feeling of letting her down – of hurting the one person that I love more than life itself.
I want this day to be over so I can go home and hold my little girl and love her. I need to see that smile in her eyes that she always has, that one special look that I know is just for me.
She wanted a braid in her hair. She kept wanting to get back to a drawing on which she was working, one that I thought she had finished the night before. She still hadn't brushed her teeth. All the while getting exasperated with me because I didn't want to use her choice of the earrings I was going to wear today. Apparently I “never value [her] opinion and never listen to [her].”
As it turns out, her class is studying the moon - New Moon to New Moon - a one month project. Each night they are to observe the moon, etc., write about it, what it made you think about, how it made you feel, any questions you may have about it and draw a quick picture to accompany your notes. The picture she stayed up late drawing last night she had completely erased because it "wasn't good enough." Unbeknownst to me, this is why she was pushing to get back to her artwork this morning.
As we walked out the door 10 minutes late (I DETEST being late) and got into the car, I could hear her taking her artwork out of her backpack. When I glanced back, that's when I realized she had erased the perfect drawing she had drawn the night before.
I lost it.
It was a combination of the chaos that became our morning and realizing that she had put herself under the gun because she's not to work on this particular project at school.
I felt my temper creep up my spine as I tried to calm myself. I tried to remind myself it wasn't all her fault. My loose boundaries and treating her like she was older than eight years old was what got me in trouble. I needed to be stern and keep her on track. I failed - which made me only more pissed off.
The word vomit started. The "dammit, this isn't happening again" speech. The "no TV in the morning until you're ready for school" speech. The "I can't believe you erased all of your artwork from the night before, what were you thinking" speech. The "7:20, Aries, I want to leave this house by 7:20" speech.
I let her have it. When all the while, I was really letting myself have it and clearly using the wrong forum to do so.
She sat in the back seat working on her drawing, taking in my words like a seasoned adult. She's seen my temper before. I hate my temper. It's short and I usually do well controlling it, but it's a trait inherent to the bloodline in my family and at times it finds its way out through the weakest point - through that one thread that has loosened itself enough to start to unravel.
I looked at her and realized my words were piercing her heart. She wasn’t displaying the pain but the hurt she was feeling struck me and wrapped around me like a hurricane wind. What the hell was I thinking. This was no way to communicate my point to my little girl.
I stopped. I couldn’t speak. I turned on the stereo in the car and listened to some Patty Griffin. I searched for a way to make it right but the damage had been done. My behavior was a disgrace. She’s eight. Hell, I work with adults at work who don’t know how to take me and here I was dumping on Aries.
I finally found the words to apologize. I explained to her that she knows how I am in the morning and this isn’t new information. That we need to work together to be successful in getting out the door in the morning.
She said nothing.
I pulled up in front of the school and she grabbed her bag. I told her to have a good day knowing damn good and well I had fucked it up for her. What started out as a good day was now smothered by me being mad at her. I am her balance. I am the one consistent thing in her life. I am the one with whom she feels truly safe and I had just been mean to her.
I was a Mean Girl. A bitch.
She shut the car door without saying a word and glanced over her left shoulder giving me the eight year old version of the “fuck you” evil eye.
I rolled down the passenger window. “Aries…Try to have a good day. I’m sorry.”
She took three steps away from the car, stopped, turned and just looked at me – her spirit broken. My heart hit the floor. I could see the emotion finding its way out. “Mommy, can I please have a hug.”
By the time I opened my car door, she was standing there with tears welled up in her green eyes. She told me she was sorry. I said the same. I tried to tell her it wasn’t all her fault and that I should have handled things differently – but that’s not how an eight year old mind works. All she knew was that I was mad and it was her fault.
I told her we’d do something special tonight, just she and I, and that everything was okay.
She headed up the stairs to her school, tears still overwhelming her.
If I could, I would take it all back. Every single quick-tempered word I spoke to her this morning. But I can’t. All I can do is exist inside this feeling of letting her down – of hurting the one person that I love more than life itself.
I want this day to be over so I can go home and hold my little girl and love her. I need to see that smile in her eyes that she always has, that one special look that I know is just for me.
Monday, October 03, 2005
It's 5 a.m., go back to sleep
AA: MOMMY! MOMMY!!
AP: [steps out of the shower and runs to Aries' room] What is it, baby?
AA: I was having a bad dream.
AP: [stroking Aries' cheek and hair] Everything is okay, baby. Do you want to talk about it?
AA: Uh huh... We were in a mall and a friend of yours was getting married and couldn't afford a wedding dress and asked if you would help her pay for it, so you were buying it for her. I had to go potty so we walked to the bathroom and when I came out I couldn't find you anywhere.
AP: Aries, I would never walk away like that. I could never let anything happen to you.
AA: I know, but I walked the whole mall and looked everywhere and I couldn't find you. It was the scariest dream ever.
AP: It was just a dream, little one. You're home and safe in bed. It's 5 in the morning, so go back to sleep and I'll wake you in an hour.
AA: WAIT! That wasn't all. Then, I dreamed I was riding a giant tape dispenser [the disposable kind] like a horsie and someone stole my sausages...
AP: [WTF do I say to that?! I was fighting back laughter so hard, my shoulders were shaking. Someone stole her sausages!. Oh my hell. Riding tape like a horse made a little more sense simply because my eight and a half year old is a tape whore. But seriously...if my entire world was rocked by something this hilarious, I wouldn't need Wellbutrin!] Go back to sleep little one. Everything is okay. I love you.
AP: [steps out of the shower and runs to Aries' room] What is it, baby?
AA: I was having a bad dream.
AP: [stroking Aries' cheek and hair] Everything is okay, baby. Do you want to talk about it?
AA: Uh huh... We were in a mall and a friend of yours was getting married and couldn't afford a wedding dress and asked if you would help her pay for it, so you were buying it for her. I had to go potty so we walked to the bathroom and when I came out I couldn't find you anywhere.
AP: Aries, I would never walk away like that. I could never let anything happen to you.
AA: I know, but I walked the whole mall and looked everywhere and I couldn't find you. It was the scariest dream ever.
AP: It was just a dream, little one. You're home and safe in bed. It's 5 in the morning, so go back to sleep and I'll wake you in an hour.
AA: WAIT! That wasn't all. Then, I dreamed I was riding a giant tape dispenser [the disposable kind] like a horsie and someone stole my sausages...
AP: [WTF do I say to that?! I was fighting back laughter so hard, my shoulders were shaking. Someone stole her sausages!. Oh my hell. Riding tape like a horse made a little more sense simply because my eight and a half year old is a tape whore. But seriously...if my entire world was rocked by something this hilarious, I wouldn't need Wellbutrin!] Go back to sleep little one. Everything is okay. I love you.
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