Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Winter HAS to be Over!

I’ve been packing up winter clothing, since Spring has seemingly settled in to stay, and began collecting my gloves from jacket pockets, purses and backpacks, under the shoe rack, inside beanies and fluffy winter hats. While compiling, I began to believe I had perhaps lost a few… I made a massive pile of the winter accessories and tried to pair them all off.

It seems that this winter was indeed a tough one on gloves. It’s the first year I’ve had a person in the house who was more interested in my gloves than his own gloves, or his toys, or his breakfast, or his boots, or…well, no, certainly not basketball, that would just be crazy! Nonetheless, I would like to blame the small child for the resulting list.

I ended up with:
four completely mismatching black knit gloves (I’m fairly certain I’ve never bought four pairs of black knit gloves, which makes me wonder where exactly all of these came from…), AND three of them have holes in the tip of the pointer finger (apparently I need to cut the nail on my pointer fingers more often?), and one of those even has another hole in the middle finger;

one red knit glove, and one pink knit glove that I’ve decided could really have been red at one time and just faded in the…oh, say three hundred wash cycles it must have gone through to become this…well, bright is the only real word for it…pink. Perhaps it was stuck in one of the twirly-thingies in the washer all winter long?

two light tan felt gloves, one with a hole in the side where I ripped out a very annoying tag;

one dark brown Isotoner glove (this is my first year having Isotoners, having inherited them from my great-Aunt, who apparently felt the need to stockpile fully packaged expensive gloves, and I must say, I was rather disappointed in them. I expected to have the warmth and elegance. Instead, I had the elegance, but I swear the second I put them on they immediately detracted ten degrees from my fingers. I’m not entirely sure how this is possible, but it happened every time! And they never seemed to warm up either. Sure, my fingers were probably warmer than if I’d had no gloves at all, but they certainly weren’t toasty.);

one hideously ugly, gold, insulated Isotoner glove (or, I suppose I should say THINsulatedTM, very warm and indeed, very thin! But now there’s only one…);

two knit green gloves that I wore once all winter long, (because what do you wear green gloves with? And they’re not very warm anyway…plus they’re more a little itchy);

one fully insulted ski glove, (I’m not sure where the other one of these went – they were in my car to use while scraping ice and snow off the car, and were there the last time I needed them, but now, one’s missing. I looked under the seats, in the seat-back-pocket, in the trunk…it’s just not there. Perhaps it’s gone into hibernation for the summer);

two very white felt gloves that I wore all of twice…because…well, they’re white. And I only braved wearing my fancy white coat twice, with which I felt it allowable and practically necessary to wear the white gloves. One has black spots on the fingertips, but I like to think they’re still pristine. Chances are, however, I won’t be wearing them every day next year either.
I have remnants of twelve, count them, TWELVE pairs of gloves, yet not a single working pair to save for next year. Awesome.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Basketball on TV!

My child is obsessed with basketball.

I know all you parents are now saying, “MY child is obsessed with balls too!” or “MY child is obsessed with dolls” or “when MY child was two, he was obsessed with cars.” I don’t disagree with you. I think obsession and toddlers come hand in hand. And it’s not uncommon to see one of these little people permanently attached to one particular item.

But, I insist, my child is OBSESSED.

And now you parents are rolling your eyes, “oh, one of those. Those parents whose child walked earlier, talked sooner, ate more, even is more obsessed.”

But no, I do insist! He truly is. His grandparents have seen nothing of the sort. None of his aunts or uncles or cousins in our very extended families have seen anything of the sort. His daycare provider has never seen anything of the sort (she’s been in business 23 years). His pediatrician has never seen anything of the sort (he’s been in business 39 years), or the nurse practitioner (42 years). Believe me when I tell you, my child is obsessed.

Every day he demands to go to the “basketball hoop.” It must be a full size hoop, with the full court, and big kids (and by big kids, I mean grown-ups, or at very least, teenagers…he seems to know anyone younger isn’t worth their salt). He thinks, however, he should be allowed to join in the big kids’ games. Because clearly, he is good enough. So far we have convinced kept him from jumping in, but only just barely.

If it’s raining outside and we tell him he can’t go to the park (he adamantly insists anyway, and would honestly, really, truly have no problem playing in the park in the rain for hours) if we are actually able to convince him that the park isn’t a possibility, he then demands “basketball on TV.” I would like to take this moment to say I am not a parent who lets her child watch TV, I just don’t do it. In fact, we don’t even have cable, it’s not like TV is something he does on a regular basis. But we did watch March Madness games at a friend’s house and on our computer…you can guess what he asks once he’s told there is no basketball on TV. He actually pulled my laptop out of the bag and dragged it over to me while I was cooking dinner, “Momma, basketball.” (You’ll be happy to know the laptop does in fact still work.)

If by chance we have something else on TV (such as a movie Mommy and Daddy were hoping to watch since it’s almost his bedtime and he seemed to be playing SOO nicely by himself, or maybe the documentary Daddy has been wanting to watch and Mommy allows during the day because it’s educational, or even, somehow or other, cartoons…) he will turn it off and steal the remote, threatening us. “It’s basketball or nothing, people. You comply or I’ll hit the TV. Really hard. And then cry. But it won’t make me forget about basketball on TV, so don’t even think about it.” What kid doesn’t want to watch cartoons? What kid would rather have NO tv if not basketball?

Or if there’s something on the computer screen (such as, say, my work) he will commandeer the mouse and begin clicking ad nauseam, sure that eventually, he WILL find basketball. It is in there somewhere, he KNOWS it is. You cannot fool him, he is smarter than you think! And sadly…he’s probably right.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Nostalgia and Facebook Forever...

I'm not sure that everyone feels the same way as I do, but generally I believe that Nostalgia and Facebook go together quite well. You can step back into the past, dig out the last names of people you haven't thought of for years from somewhere deep in your brain and actually find them! You can see their new lives, new families, new locations, pretend you're a part of it all again. And then you can add them to your list of 183 (and counting) and forget all about them once again if you so please.

Apparently, however, Facebook and Nostalgia may not be such good chums when they involve an ex. I was nostalgia-ing over my summer internship at a National Park about 83 years ago and decided to look up the other summer interns and temps, including the guy I had dated that summer... Here's how the conversation went (definitely paraphrased and possibly more than slightly exaggerated)-

Marc! (name has been changed to protect privacy) It's been a billion years! How are you? You look exactly the same!

Penney! So good to hear from you. I'm SUCH a private person, I HATE Facebook. (clearly we're off to a good start) I've often thought about you over the years and always wondered if you'd found someone and if you were happy...unfortunately you have and you are! You look really happy! You even have a kid!! (he always really wanted kids...) That's great! I'm still single. (hmmm...)

I desperately wanted to be hired full time at Our National Park (name has been changed to protect privacy) but instead I jumped from job to job, moving all over because I couldn't find anything steady. (this man was IN LOVE with Our National Park, his life's dream was working at Our National Park, I'm starting to feel sorry for him...)

My mom died a few years ago. I was so depressed I couldn't talk about it. Until yesterday. When I got your message. (oh God, what have I gotten myself into? and wait a sec, what happened to being a private person??)
I've really missed you, please keep in touch!

Marc- I'm sorry life has been tough on you. Don't worry, even though I'm happy now, I haven't been this happy all the way through the last dozen years, I've had my share of misery too! (it's a possibility you will all think this comment was just as unfounded as Marc seemed to think it was, but come on, you KNOW you all hope your exes are miserable without you, especially if THEY'RE the ones who broke up with YOU, and even if they're happy now and you actually really are happy for them, you still have this little itch somewhere wishing, hoping, praying that they were just as miserable as they made you once. Oh come on, you know you do. Even if you don't, you have to agree with me that it seems Marc needs to know this, right??)

You've been miserable? Whyever would you tell me that? My philosophy is that you can't be happy in life until you're happy with yourself. I decided to be happy with myself several years ago and haven't looked back since. Life is grand. You should really try it. It sounds like you're miserable for no good reason. (this just gets under my skin. Really, I was throwing you a fricking bone dude, a bone, that's it. Your philosophies can kiss my butt!)

No, no, you misunderstood me, I'm very happy now, ridiculously happy, perfect Leave It To Beaver life happy. I just meant I was miserable at some point along the road, there were craters in my journey to paradise, that's all.

Craters? Are you into meteorology? You have to accept your life as it is, accept yourself as you are. If you accept your flaws, and learn to love yourself, you can be happy through anything. Advice...blah, blah, blah...advice, blah blah. (God I'd forgotten how patronizing he was)

Dude, I couldn't have been happy through this. It was a crater, okay? Your advice is not helping me here, I'm happy now. I don't need your advice. I'm not your daughter. I was just trying to open up to you, just opening the old lines of communication; you told me your mother died! I'm just telling you I've kinda sorta maybe been there too...but not all.

You've been where but not really? I'm confused Penny (oh no, he TOTALLY just spelled my name wrong!!), is everything okay? Is this your call for help? What could you have possibly gone through that you were so miserable through that you now feel the need to hide it from me? I can't help you if you don't tell me. (what? what???)

I GOT DIVORCED!! OKAY? Are you happy now? I told you! I got divorced. I haven't always been this happy. My life has not always been this perfect. I just wanted you to know I'd been miserable at some point to make you feel better because you're clearly miserable now. I just wanted to give you a little bit of happiness, a little bit of unspoken revenge. It all would have been fine if you'd just accepted your revenge and not turned it all around on me like you always do. Just because you're a few years older than me (seven) doesn't mean you know everything and I know nothing. I'm not 19 anymore, I've had more life experiences now, I know people are shallow just like me, you can't make me think you're better than me and never hope for that kind of sweet revenge, I just don't believe it...and by the way, this kind of thing is the whole reason we broke up to begin with!! (did I just have this argument...on Facebook...two thousand miles away...with an ex-boyfriend from TWELVE years ago?)

So you got divorced, so what? My new girlfriend is divorced and I don't care. (WTF?? Since when do you have a new girlfriend? In the last 4 days??) Just be happy with yourself and you will be happy with your life. (okay, apparently I did not actually have that argument, apparently it was all in my head...I scroll down in the message, it's really there...apparently he just ignored it...another reason why we broke up to begin with! And I would like to say - new girlfriend or no - of COURSE he doesn't care - the guy was already divorced while we were dating, whose he to suddenly care? That wasn't the stupid point!!)

Ugh. Facebook and Nostalgia are no longer BFF. Facebook and Nostalgia just broke up.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Short Sleeve Weather!

I just walked outside without a jacket (in short sleeves!) and it wasn't the worst idea ever! HA! Take THAT winter! Spring will conquer!!


When it comes to vocabulary, I'm rather shorthanded...a better way of putting it might be that I'm ridiculously retarded. Oftentimes the word is there, on the tip of my tongue, "starts with k, sounds like chicken...," other times I just KNOW there's a word for this, I know it, I just can't think of it! and still other times I feel like there should be a word for whatever concept I'm trying to define, and perhaps there is, but if it exists, I couldn't pick it out of a line-up...of one.

As an example, today I used the word opinion when really what I meant input. Kinda close, it worked anyway, but I just couldn't come up with the word input at that moment. I mean, input? Is that really a hard word to come up with?? My brain just hates words.

This makes choosing writing as a career somewhat ironic. Perhaps it explains my need for a day job? Definitely for an online connection...,, - ah, yes, wikipedia.

If Facebook is my soulmate, Wikipedia is my illicit mistress. Anything and everything you've ever wanted to know about anything or everything. Meeting Wikipedia is like meeting the woman of your dreams...and never having to lose that image. There's no reality of morning breath or ugly jeans. With Wikipedia, if you don't like it, you can change it! If you're dead certain it's wrong, show it a little evidence, give it a few references, and it'll accept it, no arguments! No interest in your hobbies? You'll see to that! Getting too fat in one part or another? Trim it down! No problems! Always new, always changing, always exciting, always willing to take on new adventure; like a 25 year old with a hot body when you've been with the same moderately attractive, moderately intelligent, completely normal but no longer exciting person for practically long you feel like you've never not known them, never not been with them, met everyone you know through them. It's practically irresistable...a least for a quick look, once in awhile. Maybe a little light flirting. Even if you never really get into the dirty relationship of adding and changing and referencing and fixing...after all, then it would be just like any other relationship.

Thursday, April 2, 2009


Facebook and I have been on a first-name basis for awhile now. Acquaintances, though, you know. We'd say hi to each other when saw each other around, wave to each other in the halls, that sort of thing. If Facebook went missing, I'd have wondered what happened, but more of a general curiosity than a deep concern. If something terrible had happened, I wouldn't have expected to have been called with the news.

Recently, however, Facebook and I have become friends. Good friends. Maybe even BFF. All right, if I'm honest, if Facebook went missing tonight I'd be out there with my parka and flashlight calling out for dear life all night long if I had to...along with the millions of other searchers who couldn't live without Facebook even for that one night either.

Even with the several recent make-overs, Facebook can't shake us addicts. It's like a nose ring or a tattoo. The first couple times you see it, you think "God, please tell me you were drunk when you got that...?" but after you've seen the change for a few days, it grows on you, and eventually, that's all you know. It's like it's been that way forever. Facebook, changes and all, is like one of those friends you come to feel like you've known forever, even if you haven't. And eventually you start to think you met other friends through Facebook, when really that's not the case at all. But I mean, come on, there are people I'm friends with on Facebook that I literally haven't spoken to/e-mailed/heard from/caught wind of in TEN YEARS. You tell me we're not friends through Facebook? Facebook isn't the reason we're friends? Facebook didn't practically introduce us to each other?

And now, after all these introductions, without Facebook, not only would I be at a complete loss as to how to spend my entire day/month/year/life, I would also be 177 friends closer to lonely! And did you even know you HAD 177 friends? Me, when Facebook and I met, I looked at all the losers with their hourly updated status and weekly upated profile pictures and said 156 friends, my ass. They don't know all those freaking people. They're friending people they barely know. And I made a silent pact with Facebook that WE would never be that lame. WE were going to only friend people we were friends with. At least at one point. Even if that point was 15 years ago. And we couldn't remember their last name. Or the spelling of their first name. And here I am, 177 friends later, absolutely In Love with Facebook. Addicted to Facebook. Can't Get Enough of Facebook. But it's okay, after all, everyone's doing it. That makes it okay, right?

Hi, my name is Penney, and I'm addicted to Facebook...