Tags: s

part monster


My kid, who is home from college this week recovering from her operation, tells me that some of her friends now say ricockulous instead of  ridiculous... and it got me thinking about the different special effects in the words cock or dick or prick and whether you could even have feminine variations, whether those could work, if you'd still get any of the same essential meaning, or any interesting gradations of the word ridiculous... like wouldn't ricuntulous have to mean something completely different?

okay, we have been housebound, but still... don't you think...
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so we're watching Gray's Anatomy

 I  am happy to have my college kid home and stretched out on the sofa, I am not so happy she is home because she had acute appendicitis for 24 hours before she went to Health Services and then another six before the school decided she'd better go to the hospital and then several more before one doctor finally figured out what it was and got it out before it exploded last night at 3 a.m.
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postcards from the weekend

dare devil sky diver spider outside the window seat at a coffee shop where we get brunch and internet and art and sometimes very good eavesdropping where lots of new yorkers go and take their time deciding what they want in connecticut

more lessons on the very sweet smooth debonair Austin

and on the very smart and beautiful and beguiling Nutter Butter (Peanut)

endlessly amusing sidelines antics by the wildass young Ratpoo (rat terrier/poodle) that hangs at the barn

the wonderfully smug and gorgeous poseur fat barn cat with halloweenish orange-yellow eyes

the amazing casual Venezuelan beach food lazy ladies lunch with my busy girls and the very thoughtful and entertaining ndozo  where hammocks hang on the wall
Arepas (crispy chicken and honey) (white corn, fennel, queso) plantains and something else and was that papaya gazpacho? and a burrito and batidos, avocado and mango...

some very good Good Will hunting of designer finds (my girls were impressed) with ndozo  (Fairfield County's newly appointed thriftiest guide who has tracked down GWs almost the size of Wal*Marts)
like six bags full... and there was also some sampling of Three Moons Over Milford  and Lincoln Heights which were free downloads... and then we dealt with a hand-me-down 10-seater dining room table and chairs... (not sure where we are going to put it)

...so it was seriously put-away-the-hammock, take-out-the-screens, build-a-little-fire-in-the-fireplace, and pull-up-the-comforter-cover weather... even the fuzzy ponies in the pasture thought so
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help my kid get free caffeine

So this cozy college town koffee shop where my first born goes has new owners and they are having a rename-the-place contest... and they are looking for a catchy name that reflects their green-planet-conscious coffee and the winner gets to have free drinks for a year... any suggestions for her? ...okay i already suggested pc beans and Beanstalkers and one of her friends suggested Bean There Done That... okay, so now its your turn
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earthbound parents and flying children

Our oldest flew to Paris this week on this Air India plane... if you look carefully, you can see the little blur of light that is her taking off... in the right hand side of the sky...

Or maybe it was this one...

Or, it could have been this one...

I have no clue what Air India looks like... and couldn't have really seen anyway in the dark... but we waited well past departure time watching these blurs of light taking off and heading who knows where... thinking thats her... no maybe it isn't... maybe its this one...
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me in doghat

here and hereafter and mice or maybe rats

I went with my first born to see The Year Of Magical Thinking on Broadway this week and it turned out to be a very weird experience.
When I came back to my seat after my quick pre-show run to the ladies room (I knew there wasn't going to be an intermission) the elderly lady next to me didn't want to move her Cape Cod-ish straw hat off my seat, made a big deal about it, like this was her hat's seat. And then right after the lights went down and the first curtain falls, the elderly lady and her elderly Brooks Brothers-y type husband had on those amplification headsets and they whispered so loudly to eachother, I think everyone in the audience could hear them. She then hogged the arm rest and got her knees into my knee-space, which I think must have been punishment for taking her hat's seat.
And then, I don't know why, but people started leaving in the middle of the play. Which is really disconcerting during such an intimate and intense show with a one person cast. First a man with a cane hobbled up the center aisle and I thought, oh he must have some legitimate problem, I don't know what, something, because this is a really rude thing to do. But, someone else with a lot of noisy shopping bags hurried out of the theater a few minutes later and I thought, okay, well, maybe they didn't know what the show was going to be about and they couldn't handle the subject matter. Then a couple of others followed. The couple sitting on the other side of my first born got up and left too. This was more than halfway through. So I was trying to figure out how the play could be THAT offensive or upsetting or boring. With only maybe ten or fifteen minutes left of the play--you could feel the ending coming to conclusions like breaking waves (a very poetic observation astutely made by my first born)--two or three more people left. One of these people, a very large man, then tried to come back and there was a little drama, an usher grabbed him and made him sit in the last row. But, the most brainless theatergoer was the woman who stood at the back of the theater by a side exit and talked on her cell phone.
The absolute weirdest event, I mean most surrealist of all though, was when, a couple of minutes before the end of play, I thought maybe something fell off my lap, my program or something, onto my feet. But then suddenly my first born, who was wearing flipflops whispered, "something just ran over my feet" and of course it turned out I hadn't dropped anything off my lap so, you know, she was right, something had just scampered by...
With all that going on, it was a little hard to concentrate... and maybe this explains why, even though I thought Vanessa Redgrave's performance was stunning and Joan Didion's writing was full of brilliantly myopic self-observations, I didn't love The Year Of Magical Thinking.
One thing though, the play made me miss my friend Rosemary Breslin terribly. Rosemary is mentioned in The Year Of Magical Thinking once. She was married to Joan Didion's nephew Tony who is mentioned in the play several times because of the way he showed up for Joan even when she didn't realize she was going to need him. I can imagine Rosemary had a lot to do with Tony showing up. She was a stand-up girl. Tough. Funny. Brilliant. The one time she is mentioned in the play is when Tony calls Joan with bad news about her daughter, but Joan thinks the call is going to be about Rosemary who was very sick, always one or two steps ahead of death for like twenty years even though no one would ever know it because Rosemary was such an athlete and an optimist and funny and so interested in other people and never so self-absorbed. From when they were kids, Rosemary was like a sister to my husband and a true and kind friend to me, and she was my first born's godmother.

This is Rosemary with my first born not long after she was born. And, The Year Of Magical Thinking has made me think about Rosemary's genius book Not Exactly What I had In Mind - An Incurable Love Story which I love and appreciate more each time I read it. Her book is kind of the opposite of The Year Of Magical Thinking.... sort of Rosemary's years of extremely realistic and practical thinking. It is a wonderful funny true totally original book about love and figuring out who you are and life and death and it is possible Joan is mentioned in Not Exactly What I Had In Mind, I don't remember, but Rosemary opens her book with the most brilliant first line ever of a love story: "I think I found my husband's next wife."
blurrrry me

my girls

The middle school kid comes home from an overnight school fieldtrip one year older today.
We are going to meet the bus tonight with 14 balloons and one more for good luck. We still have to wrap presents (most of which she picked out) and hide them around the apartment (its a tradition) and bake the "happiness cake" (another tradition) that will have glitter candles of course. Her party is scheduled, Madam Tussauds for FaceBook or MySpace photo ops and then like a 25-girl sleepover.
The college kid is home at last too, somehow with twice as much stuff as she left with. She brought a bunch of new friends who crashed here for a couple of days, which was nice, but they all left yesterday, so at last she is all ours again. Well, for a few minutes anyway. She looks great. Exhausted in a good way. I think it was a really hard and fast first year. She is already excited about next year and busy trying to put her summer together. But, at some point during the year (I think it was right after she had all her wisdom teeth extracted--which hopefully really has no effect at all on her actual wisdom except at the time she was having to take heavy duty pain killers) she happened to mention this odd fact about her ivy education. "We get one free abortion a year," she said.
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the care package...

Anyone have any suggestions for what to put in a care package for a kid at college who is headed into finals and called last night at about midnight when she was headed to a play rehearsal to say she just needed to talk to someone while she was crossing campus alone in the dark because of Virginia Tech...
We got the favorite snacks (except the healthfood store was out of the sesame sticks) and some of those 3x5 cards on spirals for making flashcards and on a whim, some malachite earrings from the hippies on Court street (to ward off evil spirits, protect the child, and attract love) and a junk magazine and I am going to look to see if the new Gossip Girl or A-List is out for depressurizing... any other wildass or practical or magical suggestions?????????????
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quizzical and perplexing but not a 36-hour pajama day

The last time... in another age... one of the girls played with the dinosaurs they put ribbons and bows on them and that is the way are still frozen in time, partying, even though we have all moved on...

but then...

I woke up in the middle of the night last night and remembered that I had forgotten to go to my shrink appointment yesterday.

There are several possibilites why this happened... like maybe I :

A) was busy worrying about the world's problems, such as racism, global warming, terrorism, war, etc instead of my own
B) have already gone five whole times and don't have any problems anymore
C) am in denial about how really really really very very bad my problems are
D) have already figured out I simply am not the one with most of the problems in my life
E) thought Tuesday was Monday because of the school holiday on Monday
F) should most likely just be on happy drugs
G) actually found OZ and am there still
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When your kid thinks to bring you home souvenirs from the spring break with her waterpolo team in Texas, spends her own money, and the presents are two pairs of wonderful wacky sunglasses and an assortment of self-adhesive mustaches... you say to yourself, OK, my job here is done!

...and then you start planning a family portrait with everyone wearing one of the mustaches (including the cat but probably not the gerbils) and you have a family discussion about who would be best in which mustache.