Sole Mate

Long story short, second day back at the gym after a long hiatus.  I work out, shower, get ready for my day (remember this post?) and leave the gym.  I return home to find that in my bag there is only one sneaker.  I go back to the gym and *poof* gone, no shoe anywhere and nothing in the lost in found, or in the garbage.  I lost one of my damn shoes!  Second day back.  Ugh.  So it goes.

I leave the front desk person my phone number and a description of my shoe ala missing person.  "It was blue and silver, new balance, size 8 1/2, with double knotted shoe laces. Last seen in the locker room". The diffident front desk person writes my name and number on the corner of a group exercise class schedule.  He is soooooo not going to call me.  My sneaker is a goner.  The quicker I come to terms with this, the quicker I can move on.

So, after I get back in my car, now I'm pissed b/c I have to go and get a new pair.  I dislike unnecessary purchases, dislike them very much.  All of a sudden though, instead of being angry, I start to think about the shoe that was left behind.  My mind starts to wander and I start to personify this left, left shoe.  I mean I won't be using it anymore, it's not like I'm Terry Fox or anything.  So, now I am really thinking and empathizing with my poor lone sneaker.  I start to day dream  drive....


 If my sneaker were to write a personal ad, I feel it would be something like this....

Seeking sole mate.  Love to take long walks, and short ones too.  Love the outdoors and consider myself a morning person.  Doesn't matter what race you are, I love them all.  Looking for attractive, and athletic build.  Ideal mate would love to just run around town with me, and experience life's "hi's" and "lo's".  Only those that take pride in themselves and are odor and disease free need apply.  Should like Zumba, spinning and boot camps.  Must be spontaneous and willing to try new things.  Needing someone who has no commitment issues.  Only original personalities, no fakes or knockoffs, not too flashy but with a sense of style

 

Seeking someone that can meet me where the rubber meets the road.  So, if you want to take a step in the right direction, contact me.  Please include a recent picture.

Kurkure

It means crack cocaine in Sanskrit.        No?   It doesn't?  Oh.  *shrugging shoulders*  Welp, it should.  I have just found this snack that I am COMPLETELY addicted to (and so is Athena).  It is a grown up version of a Cheeto. These crunchy strands are similar to Cheetos, but have an Indian masala twist. They have a slight bite and tangy taste. There is no coincidence here, it is actually part Frito Lay's Indian division.

Now, I am so addicted that Athena and I MAY  have had that for breakfast the other day.  With a tall glass of milk, of course. Saylor ain't havin' it though.  "too spicy.  I don't like it.  I want oatmeal."  The gall of that girl to want breakfast food FOR breakfast.

In some part of my brain, I am justifying this snack as another opportunity to expose the girls' palates to new foods, when in reality......its an Indian Cheeto.


Now, these snacks are SUPER popular in India but are just being introduced to the mass american market in recent times. You know us Americans will need a "It ain't easy bein' cheesy" -Chester Cheetah kind of clevah advert for us to try their foods.

Somehow though, I don't think that

or

will prompt too much creativity, but we'll see.....

There IS this

and 

so we'll just have to wait and see.


In the meantime it just makes me want to do this......

Why I love Tina Fey

Prayer For Her Daughter

 

 First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short - a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day - And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

-An excerpt from Tina Fey's new book -Bossypants, 2011

I really f%&*@ it up this time

Athena is 5.  Athena reads.   Reads really well.   She is into chapter books and spelling and just all around interested in reading, words, and their relationship with us.

So, whats shes been doing lately is grabbing the cd booklets and singing along to songs in the car.  It's awesome, to hear her little voice just singing the words.  This is something that I can't do, because I seem to be missing that gene.  You know the one.  The one that sings the correct lyrics, knows song titles, etc. I'm all about how the song feels and how it makes me feel.  Unlike people, like my sister, who are totally into wooooords, their meeeeaning and composition, blah blah blah.

Well, my name is Barbie and I am addicted to Mumford and Sons.  Listening to it non stop recently.  Never ever paid attention to the words (I know, a sacrilege to those of you who 1. listen to lyrics, 2. think of it more like poetry). 

Now to bring it all home.....

Imagine me and the girls driving with the windows down in our car, with Mumford and Sons blaring and Athena reading/singing along to Little Lion Man.  All of sudden I hear her say  "but it was not your fault but mine and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?  Then I hear Saylor repeat it and all of a sudden, BOTH girls are all singing along loudly "but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line,  I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?  At first I was like whoa, THAT'S what it says, then I was like whoa, THAT'S what it SAYS??? I didn't want to react to it obviously, but I knew the question was coming......

and then there it was...


Athena- Mama, what does "fucked it up this time" mean.

Saylor- "fucked it up this time?"

speaking to myself......Barbie, don't fully acknowledge (just like that you haven't blogged for two months)

Me- It means they really messed up, made a mistake.

Saylor- Oh.

Athena- messed up? what do you mean?

Me- no more calm, cool and collected pep talk   Ok, listen, it's a "boss" word.  Only to be used by adults.  In fact, lets just listen to another song.

Athena- No, no, I want to hear #7, the "fucked up song".

Me- Athena, that is an adult word.  Please don't repeat it.

Athena- Oh, only bosses can say it?

Me- Yes, love.

Athena- So, only bosses drink coffee, martinis, wine and soda, and can say the words "fucked up this time"?

Me- oh my god.   Yes, love.

DOES ANYONE WANT TO HEAR BARNEY??????????  Well, I  do!




For the rock dwellers....