Just Another Day

There is defiance. Defiance against tyranny and oppression. Like the Tibetan monks against the Chinese regime. Then, there is defiance for simple defiance's sake. Like Mr. P when we tell him to clean up his room. He has had his Webkinz taken away for three days this week because for some strange reason, he feels it is appropriate to tell us no when we ask him to do something he doesn't want to do. Hubba-hubba tells me that I try to reason too much with him, and he uses it as a stalling technique. This could very well be true. But I am simply wondering what his motivation is. Why all of a sudden he thinks he is on equal footing. That he thinks he has some sort of choice. Why he is making such poor choices when he knows what the consequences will be. The consequences are always enforced. I don't forget. And, he has never NOT had to clean his stuff once he has been asked. It just hasn't happened. So why the sudden optimism that this might be the day he can skate b

Good grief, did I almost go all of last week without posting or commenting? That could be either good or bad, depending on how you look at it. I promise to catch up with you all as soon as I can. Now, something that should make you want to get up and dance. The group is Goldfrapp and I totally dig the video, too. They are big fans of animation, and this video is no exception.

Let me just say that Mr. P is on Easter break, and things have been busy busy busy over here. Not to mention we were trying to watch all the episodes of Battlestar Galactica before the season 4 premiere next week. So up against all that, you guys lose. I love you, but there are only so many hours in the day. And, not to mention I get harassed if I have the audacity to repeat a question. Dr. S , are you trying to tell me you haven't lost anything since the last time I asked? You know, I only do this 52 times a freakin' year... Annnnywaaaay... With whom did you share your first kiss?

Yes, Mr. P is on Easter break which means the entire week is stretching out before me. Luckily Hubba-hubba was able to get Wednesday through Friday off, although don't ask about why he has to go into work tomorrow. No, we're just not going to talk about that. But I was thinking that I live in one of the biggest cities in the world, and yet I tend to stay in my little corner of things. We have world-class museums and attractions and so far, Mr. P has only seen a fraction of them. I mean, I've seen them many times prior to his earthly arrival, but I just haven't gotten around to exposing him to them. Part of that is due to his propensity for carsickness, which makes traversing stop-and-go freeways and long distances even less appealing than normal. The other part is that I hate to travel to a place and spend all the time and money just to find out that he is bored out of his mind. Because I can never really predict what he is going to like all the time. Or even worse,

Now anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time knows that we have never had cable/satellite television. This weekend, we stepped into modern times and had the Dish Network installed. The good part? Hubba-hubba bargained the crap out of them, and it is only costing us an extra ten bucks a month on a month-to-month contract. Sweet! So in honor of that, I had in mind a video from the very early 80's that I thought was set back in pre-historic times. Turns out it isn't but it is such a campy, cheesy video that you cannot help but flash back to those heady days of neon clothes and big hair. It almost makes me nostalgic. Almost. The group is Toto Coelo and the song is "I Eat Cannibals" from good old 1982.

What was the last thing you were looking for and couldn't find?

But trust me, for those who think they have heard the worst of Hubba-hubba's family, you need to proceed to Sunshine's to hear yet another horrible story. And by this, you shall see why I don't like talking about them. But because I love Sunshine, I did it for her.

So yesterday I had to go to Target. No big deal. I'm wearing the pants and undergarments that I have been wearing with no problem all day. When suddenly, it hits. The wedgie. Crap. It started creeping up when I got the cart, and progressed all the way up as I was circling the dollar bins. I thought to myself, oh god, everyone can see my wedgie. My sweatshirt was the kind that shows every tiny irregularity, and I was blushing, thinking everyone is pointing at my ass and laughing. Panicked, I try to think of where I can go to pull the damn underwear out. Because not only did it look bad (I'm guessing) it was really uncomfortable. I go to the section where they have the underwear (how fitting, I know) for little kids, which hang on these rather tall racks. I figure this is my best chance to conceal my heinous actions. I dart glances down either side of the open aisle. No one. Ahhh, relief. Then, I look up. A dark, shiny half circle is attached to the ceiling, not far above f

Dear Mr. Jerk, Whilst walking to the pharmacy tonight to pick up my prescriptions, I noticed you running ahead of me to get ahead of me in line. Whatever. What you didn't know was that you entered into the wrong door, thus winding up five people behind me despite your jogging prowess. And what I will never know is how you managed to get the pharmacy dude to serve you from the back of the line. I didn't see it until it was too late and you were somehow miraculously paying for your stuff while all the other people, including me, were still waiting. But, I did recognize the tiny smile on your face, for it matched the one I had been sporting only minutes before as I gloated over my apparently premature victory. So, maybe tonight you beat the system. Maybe tonight you got lucky. But I happen to think you used up your luck, and you will one day wish to God you hadn't used it up just to wait five minutes less in line. So enjoy the feeling, while you can. Dickwad. Smooches, Gina

Wheee, my brain no longer hurts! I can lay down without feeling like there is an anvil resting on my head! Seriously, my head hurt so bad at one point that I just could not lay down any longer. It was bad. Now, onto some groovy music! Because music makes me happy and gives me a nice little mood lift. When it's the right song, anyway. And usually, you wouldn't think that a fairly depressing song such as the next one would put me in a good mood, but it does. I seem to be a bit freakish that way, I guess. Originally done by Tears for Fears, Mad World was featured in the movie Donnie Darko (fab!) and this remake by Gary Jules is on the soundtrack. I really like the video, it is children making moving pictures on the sidewalk. Well, you really have to watch it to appreciate....

Do you think that clipping coupons is worth the effort, or a waste of time?

For the umpteenth time since September, we are all sick. Stringing together coherent thoughts is an exercise more difficult than usual. Although I was thinking that today on the other blog, someone commented (in a nice way, though, if that's possible) that a sentence I wrote was "inflammatory." I mean, it was the truth, but of course it was inflammatory. Because a blog is not a newspaper. A blog has no code of ethics which require it to be even-handed and fair in coverage. A blog is there to be entertaining, to be opinionated, to be inflammatory, if you will. To me, as long as I am telling what I in good faith believe to be the truth, I am good. And hell, most of the time newspapers don't do that either anymore.

Why yes, hello, I am extremely cranky. Be glad you are on the other side of the computer. I think though, that I am getting sick. But really, we have been sick more this year than any year EVER and it is beginning to get to me. It truly doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I am older. I have no problem with getting older. It's fairly inevitable anyway, so there is no point in getting pissy about it. I find that the older I get, the less patient I am with bullshit. I have never been one to ignore it, but additional years seem to make me want to screech and point it out. I am also more confident than ever, which is saying a lot. I've always had a confidence streak a mile wide. For no good reason, really. It has served me well in the past, although I wonder if aging will simply make me delusional about it. If there is one thing I have learned in my many years here on earth that has always stood me in good stead is that if you don't have confidence, FAKE IT

Many thanks to those who wished me a happy birthday! I had a nice day shopping with my sister, a great lunch with cheesecake for dessert, but I didn't buy anything. Which was weird, because I had money to spend but couldn't find anything. Hate that. So even though it's a day late, I'm still gonna do a birthday song... This is from the early 80's by an English New Wave band called Altered Images And here is them with one of their "regular" songs, and I totally dug this song back in the day. Still do!

When I was 13 or so, my dad and I went cycling. We were going down this very steep hill and my dad was yelling at me to change gears. And well, in order to do that, you have to be pedaling. So, I am going downhill very quickly and pedaling as well. I am having a difficult time finding the gear I need. By my clever foreshadowing, I'm sure that you could guess that it didn't end up very well. I wound up crashing into a wall, thus rendering my left knee a mass of hamburger meat. I had to bike all the way home with blood pouring down my leg and barely able to pedal at all. I needed a few stitches, but to this day there is a huge scar on my knee that pretty much covers the entire kneecap. Where is the most memorable scar on your body? And maybe a story to go with it?

As if a cheapo sundae wasn't enough for me to feel like I was getting the shaft, I only just today realized what will happen on Sunday. The day of my birth, that glorious time when all should be sunshine and roses and all the earth should rejoice. What is going to happen, Gina, you might well ask? Well, I am going to lose a freaking hour of sleep , that's what. Tell me again why my birthday shouldn't make me crabby? Well, at least Hubba-hubba is going to take Mr. P to a birthday party for a girl in his class that day. Because if I had to spend my birthday in a room full of screaming kids, I would know for sure that Somebody Up There was not happy with me.

For some reason, Mr. P has become fascinated with playing cards. We mostly play War and Go Fish. He usually kicks my ass at War, but we're a bit more evenly matched at Go Fish. Isn't that sad, what I just said? That I can barely hold my own against a five year old? Actually he has been on a big "game" kick lately, which includes begging me to drag out all of his board games. There is a really annoying one that (surprise!) my mom bought, called The Allowance Game and while I value the lessons it teaches of monetary values and the virtues of saving, it's one big snooze for me all the way through. And of course, it takes a very long time to play. I never remembered playing games with either of my parents, I guess that's what my sister was for, although I don't really remember playing any with her either. There is nothing a ten year old wants to do less than play a board game with her five year old sister. But on the games that consist more of luck than

You know that economic times are getting tough when restaurants only serve you a tiny scoop of ice cream and with dribble of chocolate sauce for your birthday. I mean, it wasn't even hot fudge, it was chocolate sauce. And yes, there is a HUGE difference. Actually, what we got yesterday wouldn't even qualify as a scoop. It was a "sundae" served in one of those teeny little apertif glasses. So you figure about five spoonfuls and half the cup being filled with whipped cream. This is after our meal that was over fifteen apiece, so it wasn't like we ordered something like an appetizer and then demanded our birthday dessert. I think for spending thirty plus bucks, I should get a real sundae. Because nothing says "we appreciate you as a customer" like shafting them on their birthday. Thanks George W, I blame you for this too. Actually, I think I am just going to blame everything on Dubya. It will make my life ever so much easier. Yours too! Do you have a

Because I am feeling very silly today, I am going to put up a video from a group that Wikipedia calls a "Grammy Award-winning folk, pop, and comedy band composed of Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement." Otherwise known as Flight of the Conchords . If you can't get a laugh out of this song, I feel sorry for you indeed and suggest that you bury your sorrows in some chocolate. Or wine, or whatever, because this makes me laugh uncontrollably. Although there is nothing outright crude said on here, you probably won't want the kiddies to hear.