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mason leach
Oct 14th, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i am devastated to report that our young friend, mason leach, passed away last night after a very brave fight with cancer. our love and hearts go out to his family and to everyone this amazing guy touched. mason, you are, without a doubt, the toughest kid person i’ve ever known.

from the leach family website:

What Cancer Cannot Do– Cancer is so limited; It cannot cripple Love; It cannot shatter Hope; It cannot corrode Faith; It cannot destroy Peace; It cannot kill Friendship; It cannot suppress Memories; It cannot silence Courage; It cannot invade the Soul; It cannot steal Eternal Life; It cannot conquer Mason’s Spirit!

BC cannot stop crying. frankly, neither can i. and jools keeps “calling” mason’s mom on his pretend cell phone. he said in the car: “it’s sad because he didn’t become a grownup.” wise boy.

so hard, so hard.

smart and smarter
Oct 11th, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i luvz me some smart boyz…especially john cusack when he’s interviewing naomi klein. damn, i think he even took his own notes!!! stick it to halliburton, dobler!

(seriously, these two are people i would love to have beers with and chat about stuff. yes. that highly technical term. i iz a prowd produckt of the NJ educashun sistim. kindergarten thru grajuit skool, man.)

but seriously, you know, i used to think me some deep thoughts before i had kids. and i still am willing to go a little beyond the usual soundbyte. i sure am glad i spent plenty of hours in graduate school studying public policy and politics and Things That Matter. and i still do care. i really do. and when i watch interviews like this, i wonder whether my brain will ever return, whether anything i do on a daily basis means anything to the world.

i know, i know: i’m raising children, so i must inherently believe that the world will continue and that i am doing my best to help to steer future folks on a decent, kind, and intelligent path. (case in point: i’ve been working really hard to teach my children that it’s ok to not agree with the President. in fact, it’s a patriotic thing, dang it. anyway, BC one day yelled at me when i said the word republican. mama, she hissed, don’t say that word– it’s a BAAAD word! and no, i am not making this up.)

but then, i see people like naomi klein and think my GAWD, i’m doing nothing except writing novels; raising children; supporting my local farmers as much as i can; driving a hybrid; blasting the beatles, the clash, and other assorted music from my car; dealing with a house that is just loaded with things to handle; and keeping myself from barking in the streets every time the effing secret service cars come by with dignitaries.

yep. i do a lot for the world. don’t i 🙁

sometimes, i listen to across the universe and contemplate what john lennon meant by the phrase: nothin’s gonna change my world. was he giving up and relinquishing his power in despair? or was he insisting that his personal status quo was some sort of nirvana, and nothing, by G-d, would alter it? i’d like to think that he wrote it in some sort of blissful state, a time when he found some personal peace. i like to cocoon myself from time to time and think how perfect my life is. i’m fed. i’m clothed. i’ve a home. i’ve a wonderful family. and while i have a health condition that requires diligent attention, i have access to high quality health care. nothin’s gonna change my world.

but see, there are so many people who are missing one or more of those things. and then some. so something’s gotta change my world. and it probably ought to be me.

where to start?

why didn't i think of that?
Oct 11th, 2007 by wrekehavoc

who needs the rubber chicken circuit! apparently, there’s a movement afoot to couple campaign fundraising with concerts. republicans and democrats alike are pairing campaign events with concerts, from the police shows to brooooooooooce, and even maroon 5 [note to self: who cares about maroon 5, and would any maroon 5 fans even have that kind of money to pony up, anyway?] i guess the bottom line for these artists would be to sell tickets (well, really, it’s to sell merchandise — that’s where the money is made, apparently). but you gotta wonder how they’ll feel when someone they don’t like is linking their name with the artist/s.

i’m waiting for BS to say he wants to suddenly contribute to Frank Pallone’s coffers to get better Bruce tix (pallone took the seat of a now-deceased former friend of BS’s.) [additional note to self: don’t forget to water the money tree in the backyard.]

i wonder where this will all lead. since conservative republicans will likely not be sponsoring anything at the bruce gig (doy!), will they start fundraisers at those christian rockfests? will that bumblebee christian metal band develop a resurgence? and what about the hip hop krewe?

i suspect one of the biggest political fundraisers, if anyone out there had a brain in his head, would be to create an event with tickets to see Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus. omg. i mean, hit up the parents, the ones with disposable income. and then hold onto your wallets, kids, while your tween grabs for it and begs you to support congressman so-and-so.

if nothing else, it might get your kid interested in the political process.

little man
Oct 9th, 2007 by wrekehavoc

oh, jools. i didn’t know if i could manage a day home with you today. BC was home from school on thursday and friday. then, everyone was home saturday, sunday, and monday. considering tomorrow is half-day elementary school and i’m pretty pushed thursday and friday, if i didn’t get a day to myself today, i wouldn’t get one until far into next week.

and i didn’t.

you stayed with me today after waking up at 6 (screaming, per usual, there’s a six on the clock!!! only to then fall back asleep after i woke up and came over to collect you.) i figured that if you fell back to sleep, then you were a pretty tired palooka. so my peace and quiet be damned. you stayed.

i’m so glad you did.

we played the lilo and stitch game that your sister usually won’t let you touch (and you gleefully reminded her of that when she came home from school); we played candyland, perennial house game favorite. and may i tell you, little man: you cheat. you cheat like crazy. and even though i tell you i won’t play with you if you don’t play by the rules, somehow, we keep playing. i think we continue because there’s something so fun about watching you giggle when i pick the plumpy card for the seventeenth time in the row, just before i would have won the game.  like you know, somewhere deep down in your little soul, that G-d really wants to see you win and see mama get screwed just one more time.  and i laugh and laugh each time because i want you to see that sometimes, it’s the journey — not the journey’s end — that really matters.

and what a silly day. we took all of BC’s broken crayons, put them into metal cupcake holders, and melted them into giant rainbow crayons. i always read about this and thought it would be fun. somehow, i never did this with BC because i hadn’t amassed that many broken crayons. but you, my friend, you are the second child. so much has been broken before you. i’m the youngest; i know of these things. the trick, my love, is to take the broken stuff and figure out how to make something wonderful out of them.

i’ve done it for years.

today, i told you that i was going to run errands to the post office and the store while you were at gymnastics. usually, i sit at the back and get a precious 45 minutes of novel writing while you tumble. but this time, i had stuff to do. you nodded and understood. and when i came to collect you, you sweetly informed me: mama, i missed you while you were running errands. but you were okay, right, little man? oh yes, mama. things that would make your sister cry her heart out are things that you accept with a zen-like grace.

just the same way we snuggle at night. BC curls into me, trying her best to meld into my body, childlike. but you, little man. you put your arm around me, just like your father does. you pull me to you, curling me into your side. protecting me.

you are my child, but at moments like these, amidst the cars and teddy bears, i already see the man emerging.

shadow of a doubt
Oct 7th, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i’m getting material together to hopefully present at the first DC mortified show next month. (a friend of mine emailed me and told me about this. considering i kept copious journals throughout most of high school, i have a lot of fodder for such an enterprise.) after my first “audition,” i got some great and enthusiastic feedback. they were interested in certain threads of my teenaged life. of course, i’m not sure i want to go too deeply into one thread (one old but significant boyfriend), and i’m thinking more about another (about a less significant but terribly sad/funny boyfriend).

anyway, i met with one of the organizers yesterday to talk about what i’d found. after going through it all, i’m beginning to get a clearer picture of who i was as a teen, something which totally eluded me at the time. she’s really interested in my trying to glean from it all more about me — what i was feeling, who i was, why i was like that. i was pretty self-aware (although pretty clueless about why) at the time, so i’m digging it all up now. it’s sort of like self-analysis, and i can’t wait until a quiet moment hits and i have that aha! moment when i realize why i am like what i am today, based on my life as a teen.

but as i think about myself as a teen, it becomes incredibly clear what i wanted to be: a complex kid. i must have internalized tom petty in a big way. unfortunately, i think i hit a point where i was so complicated, i lost my own plot. some of the poetry i wrote back then completely baffles me.

and then i simplified, met BS, and the rest, as they say, is history 😉

Really Deep Thoughts
Oct 4th, 2007 by wrekehavoc

nablopomo

i can’t get the damn thing to work in my widgets, but i can post it here! i’m participating in National Blog Posting Month, affectionately known as NaBloPoMo, a phrase also suitable for using in cursing situations. (i believe someone already coined the phrase NaBlo me.)

basically, one has to post every single day in November. so see, you get 30 full days of my nonsensical blather. 30 full days of hearing about body fluids. 30 full days of, gee, i don’t know. i think i’ll branch out a little bit though and take on topics some weeks. Really Deep Thoughts, as my girl tori would say. if you have any ideas about things i could tackle, feel free to share in the comments. please note that i won’t deal with nuclear fission, or even nuclear war in general since i took the latter up with Edward Teller in college and made a complete ass of myself on local TV in miami. and yes, my grandmother was watching. dahling.

and karin, beloved friend, i love you with every fiber of my being and have done so since Honors English at Rutgers, but i loathe william butler yeats, so he’s out of the question, too. in case you were wondering.

so make a suggestion. and, if nothing else, check out my page. i’ve got a jukebox i made with a mix i call 52 girls i took it down because jukeboxes apparently are a bad idea. wah.

you don’t have to think Really Deep Thoughts (or even be an English major) to figure out the leitmotif there.

attack of the girly-girls
Oct 3rd, 2007 by wrekehavoc

as my MIL is wont to say, paybacks are a bitch. but sometimes, karmic paybacks are pretty hilarious.

i grew up with two older brothers. consequently, while i had my share of barbies, i grew up playing baseball, basketball, kill-the-guy-with-the-ball, and touch football. (my brothers thought it would be a hoot to teach me, a rightie, to bat lefty. to this day, i can only bat lefty. yep. our own homegrown version of stupid sister tricks.) i lasted just under a month in the brownies — when i learned that they didn’t play softball, i bailed faster than you could say jackie robinson. i was the fastest girl in my class until puberty reared its ugly whatever and i developed hips. most of my best friends throughout my high school days were guys.

i don’t think i wore a dress from 1973 through 1977.

so it comes as no karmic surprise that i birthed a girly-girl. BC loves her sparkles, her glitter, her hot pink and purple. at age two, the chick loved to spend hours in the shoe department. she may make fun of me on the rare days when i deign to wear makeup, but boy, put some in front of her and she’ll walk out in technicolor splendor. dolls? bring ’em on. hannah montana? yeah, baby. sephora? nirvana.

at first, i found it alien to do a lot of this sort of thing. anyone who knew me in high school knew i rarely wore makeup. (my future SIL gave me a honkin’ big Revlon makeup kit for my 17th birthday. i remember her words well: even the prettiest girls need help now and then.) i could care less about handbags. and shoes? BC will berate me — most of my shoes are black, the better to go with most of my wardrobe. mama, she chides me, you really need to break out of the black and into colors.

so today, as it’s half-day wednesday, we decided to paint our toenails. mine are a deep-red-wine color, and hers, not surprisingly, are bright fuschia, with a layer of clear sparkles on top to boot. hers got a little messed up, so we’ll probably try again tomorrow. i just can’t bear to inhale the nail polish remover and the nail polish odors much more. with all the tests and scans i have had of late, i probably will spontaneously combust if i’m not too careful.

but you know what? it was actually fun sitting there and watching the proverbial paint dry. i can’t say we solved any of the world’s problems during that time, but it was a weird little feminine ritual that i think will bond us, ever so slightly more than we already are. and i’ve got me some kick-ass looking nails.

maybe tomorrow, we’ll hit the mall and look into eye makeup…

delurk.
Oct 3rd, 2007 by wrekehavoc

lunatic fringe: i know you’re out there.
The Great Mofo Delurk 2007

seriously, though. i get a gazillion 100+ hits every day — well, legitimate ones — i get a lot more from spammers — and yet i know only a scant few who actually ever stop to comment and say hi. (well, besides the spammers who are getting really interesting in their comment spam. thank G-d for Akismet!)

so c’mon every beatbox! say something. share your favorite recipe for anarchy! or chocolate brownies! or tell me you love me! (or not. but be kind about it.)

just let me know you’re out there 🙂

[and props to kellyo for bringing it up :-)]

as usual, i suck as a mom
Oct 2nd, 2007 by wrekehavoc

yesterday was painful enough. BC started a running program at school geared toward tween girls — you know, all about girl power and healthy self image and all those things my girlfriends and i all lack? of course, she gets there, and there are three other third grade girls who say hi to her and quickly run away. the girls, apparently surgically attached at the hip, were not interested in making a new girl feel welcome. apparently, after i left, BC cried 🙁

it sucks having to relive childhood misery.

so this morning, i wore my workout clothes to school when i dropped BC off. after yesterday’s trauma, i took a few minutes and walked her in. i should point out that my t-shirt is an ancient, huge t-shirt that a woman from the Weekly World News gave to me when my old workplace was contemplating doing a content deal with them. i absolutely love this shirt and will mourn it’s passing when it goes (it’s 11 years old now). there’s a picture of a mink on it. the headline reads:

WOMAN KILLED BY FUR COAT

$30G full-length mink comes alive and bites rich widow to death!

ah, the subtlety. the new york post has nothing on these folks.

anyhow, i am walking out of school, having successfully removed my beloved child, BC, off my person. i see a mother. she sees me. she stops.

and she scowls.

i mean, a major, WTF scowl. like somehow, i am polluting the very air she and her child are breathing because of my shirt (which, i would point out, was freshly laundered at that point in the day.) she actually looks angry at me. i walked on.

that’s it. i’ve had it.

i’m checking ebay to see if i can find BC a Sex Pistols shirt to wear to school.


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