Shady's Back. Tell a Friend. Shady's Back. Tell a Friend. This is getting a bit ridiculous. At one point in time this blog was my safe haven, the place where really I could just say whatever the hell I was thinking, no matter how foul. I almost feel like since then I've lost the edge and as a result have nothing to say. Really, do people come here to read about sunshine and fucking flowers? No. (And by "fucking flowers" I mean expletive flowers, not flowers that run around all day humping like guinea pigs. Yeah, I just demoted rabbits. My 7th grade biology teacher had one of those kiddie pools in the back of his classroom, and it was filled with guinea pigs that would hump for hours. Actually, and this is said with a healthy deal of respect for his masculinity and endurance, it was like one male guinea pig and seven female guinea pigs. That little guy was like the Peter North of rodents. But I'm digressing). Some quick thoughts: 1. I know I promised a post once a week in 2008 and I didn't deliver on that. Somehow, the world is still turning. 2. If that entire Chinese Girls Gymnastics team is over the age of 16, you will service the entire men's gymnastics team. I was going to say that *I* would but then I thought about how tiring that would be, how the flight to Beijing would probably be pretty long and fairly expensive, how someone would probably see me, think "girl child" and throw me off a bridge. 3. I cry at every medal ceremony. I could kill you with THIS *holding up post-it note* but the moment I see those three flags rising and hear the first few notes of whatever random anthem is playing I get choked up. Except when it's one of those Eastern Bloc countries. Then I'm like "Damn you, why did you hijack President Marshall's plane?? You hijacked the President's plane for God's sake, what kind of Olympic spirit is that??!" 4. This is what I'm dealing with at home: Me: When we get home we're going to be in a rush so no playing in the ducky tub okay? Just a quick shower like Mommy. 5-year-old #1: No!!!!! Me: You know, your cousin Keiran is a big boy. He doesn't take baths in the duck tub. 5-year-old #2: That's because he doesn't have a duck tub. Me: Crap. Okay you win. 5-year-old #1: Don't go to work tomorrow Mommy. Me: I have to, or we're not going to have any money. 5-year-old #1: But I NEED you. Me: Yes but don't you also need food and a place to live? 5-year-olds: *silence* Me (trying another tact): If Mommy doesn't work then we won't have any money so we won't have any food. Or a house. Or clothes. Or toys. 5-year-olds: *silence* Me: Or ice cream. Two scandalized 5-year-olds: WHAT NO ICE CREAM?? Mommy you have to go to work.

Shady's Back. Tell a Friend.

This is getting a bit ridiculous. At one point in time this blog was my safe haven, the place where really I could just say whatever the hell I was thinking, no matter how foul. I almost feel like since then I've lost the edge and as a result have nothing to say. Really, do people come here to read about sunshine and fucking flowers? No.

(And by "fucking flowers" I mean expletive flowers, not flowers that run around all day humping like guinea pigs. Yeah, I just demoted rabbits. My 7th grade biology teacher had one of those kiddie pools in the back of his classroom, and it was filled with guinea pigs that would hump for hours. Actually, and this is said with a healthy deal of respect for his masculinity and endurance, it was like one male guinea pig and seven female guinea pigs. That little guy was like the Peter North of rodents. But I'm digressing).

Some quick thoughts:

1. I know I promised a post once a week in 2008 and I didn't deliver on that. Somehow, the world is still turning.

2. If that entire Chinese Girls Gymnastics team is over the age of 16, you will service the entire men's gymnastics team. I was going to say that *I* would but then I thought about how tiring that would be, how the flight to Beijing would probably be pretty long and fairly expensive, how someone would probably see me, think "girl child" and throw me off a bridge.

3. I cry at every medal ceremony. I could kill you with THIS *holding up post-it note* but the moment I see those three flags rising and hear the first few notes of whatever random anthem is playing I get choked up. Except when it's one of those Eastern Bloc countries. Then I'm like "Damn you, why did you hijack President Marshall's plane?? You hijacked the President's plane for God's sake, what kind of Olympic spirit is that??!"

4. This is what I'm dealing with at home:

Me: When we get home we're going to be in a rush so no playing in the ducky tub okay? Just a quick shower like Mommy.
5-year-old #1: No!!!!!
Me: You know, your cousin Keiran is a big boy. He doesn't take baths in the duck tub.
5-year-old #2: That's because he doesn't have a duck tub.
Me: Crap. Okay you win.

5-year-old #1: Don't go to work tomorrow Mommy.
Me: I have to, or we're not going to have any money.
5-year-old #1: But I NEED you.
Me: Yes but don't you also need food and a place to live?
5-year-olds: *silence*
Me (trying another tact): If Mommy doesn't work then we won't have any money so we won't have any food. Or a house. Or clothes. Or toys.
5-year-olds: *silence*
Me: Or ice cream.
Two scandalized 5-year-olds: WHAT NO ICE CREAM?? Mommy you have to go to work.