Author: wrekehavoc

here you come again: my latest trip to disney

here you come again: my latest trip to disney

i didn’t love disney enough last year.

nope.

nyet.

na-ha.

no sirree.

so we went back again last week.

i made some brief notes to myself about the event. i suspect i will write in more length about it, but for now, here are some abbreviated, up-to-the-minute thoughts from a person who probably was under the influence of too much sugar, both literally and figuratively speaking.

1) i used to like people. then i came to disney. yes, mr. ripley. i am not by nature misanthropic. not until i hit the magic kingdom; then, all bets are off. people — grownups and kids alike — are on their worst behavior. i cut kids slack here — they’re kids, after all — but the grownups?

we were waiting on line for the animal safari in animal kingdom — a neat place and a neat ride, incidentally. i like to use lines as a teachable lesson for my kids. you know, an exercise in patience and fairness? a woman and her two kids continually tried to push ahead of us, the family ahead of us, and the older couple on the motorized scooter in front of them. eventually, they succeeded, hitting their trifecta of triumph. what we didn’t know: the woman’s friend and the friend’s young son did not push ahead and remained behind us. why are you so far behind? miss pushypushy asked her friend. why don’t you come up here and join us?

in one of the rarest moments ever, BS and i said in unison, NO! we had had it. for 20 minutes, this woman kept on pushing, nearly trampling over people. i added, if you’d like to join your friends, you can move back and join them.

i noticed that the friend behind us suddenly had a few words with BS. i didn’t hear them at first, so i asked BS what the woman left behind had said.

he replied: she told me “have a nice day! hope you get sent to iraq!”

yes. it’s a small world, after all.

2) don’t walk? don’t come. no, i don’t mean people who really need wheelchairs. but i continue to be shocked by the number of strollers housing children who are old enough to accomplish long division. conversely, if you aren’t old enough to walk, you probably are too young to remember the experience. i suspect if you’re child #3 and you’re being dragged along for the ride thanks to sibling #1 and sibling #2, i can cut some slack. but seriously? we went to the halloween party, where we walked in with two parents, two grandparents, and a baby girl who was maybe a wee bit over one. let’s see: an evening that costs $50 per person. you’re bringing a baby in at 7 pm. it’s going to be dark in five minutes. yep. a worthwhile expenditure.

BC started pumping my hand every time we passed a child in a stroller who was older than 4. (it’s almost a dead giveaway when you see them reading.) (yes, my daughter is becoming as snarky as her mom.) i tried to take the high road on this, but it’s awfully difficult when you see kids who are too damn lazy to move. which we saw. incessantly.

at one point, i ended up talking to a disney employee, who noted in amazement about the number of people who arrive, pick up wheelchairs (especially those zippy motorized ones), and zip around from ride to ride. they just don’t want to walk around the park. you know, she said with great candor, i understand if someone has a disability, a bad knee, that sort of thing. but these people just come here and pretend to have an issue when they’re just plain lazy.

whoa. i thought the employees were shiny and happy all the time.

3) freaky people. then, there are the scary people who live for disney. you know the ones, the folks with personalized disney plates? the ones who visit the place every month? they’ve gotten married here, they’ve given birth on the monorail, and they plan to have mickey mouse circumcise their baby boy? while waiting for dinner one night, we saw a couple there who made me hold tight to my children. (it didn’t help that the guy looked like charlie manson.) i suspect they each wore about 50 pounds of disney pins.

yes, i’m here to tell you that i am clearly deficient as a mother. we did not dress up in homemade, matching disney costumes like so many families did at the halloween party. i am not crafty enough to make one costume (unless you count taking a bedsheet, poking two holes in it, and calling it a “ghost suit.”) frankly, i was lucky that i remembered to pack the kids’ costumes.

speaking of matchy-matchy fun,  when we were poor, starving newlyweds, BS and i bought matching polo shirts at montgomery wards to wear to the bahamas, an ill-fated trip which i spent in the bathroom, barfing my guts out for a full 24-hours before skeedaddling back to the US for medical treatment. thus, i am also not one of those chicks who makes my husband and kids wear the same shirt as i while we travel to walt’s world. too much bad karma.

besides: BS would look dorky if i made him wear a tinkerbell shirt.

anyway, there’s so much more to share, including the folks who brought their Ipods to watch shows while waiting on line rides. see, every. minute. must. be. filled. silly us, we talked to each other while we waited. (well, that, and we watched this young girl toss her cookies massively while we were on the Toy Story Mania ride line. most people were grossed out. several found a way to step around the sea of woof. they had waited a long time, and dammit, they were not going to be hindered by that!)

oh, the humanity.

guilty pleasure monday: naughty naughty (john parr)

guilty pleasure monday: naughty naughty (john parr)

there are so many unsolved mysteries in life. how was the world created? how will we get out of our national financial crisis? is there really a G-d?

and why the hell do i like this song?

one day, my old pal leifer, the first boy i became friends with who shared my passion for music (but not for each other, which is why we’re still friends, nearly 30 years later), smacked my exhausted college brain: who sang naughty naughty? he asked. (leifer does this to me from time to time; he’s been a little bitter with me over the years, only because i whipped his sorry butt every year in the rock trivia competition at camp in high school. heh.)

shockingly, my little mental musical encyclopedia drew a blank. i couldn’t tell. and it took me awhile to get my head around it: john parr. john parr, later of st. elmo’s fire (man in motion) fame. who later, i learned, wrote roger daltrey’s under a raging moon, another guilty pleasure of mine that is riddled with 1980s musical cliches (not to mention those imitative keyboards, so evocative of, uh, i dunno, who are you perhaps?)

i don’t remember whether i ever answered him; he may be laughing at me to this very day for not answering his question. i don’t recall (though i suspect he’ll remind me. and soon.) but i do love this song. yes, in spite of the fact that john parr looks like the mulleted love child spawn of mel gibson and billy ray cyrus; despite the fact that the scary, she-men women in this video could probably beat me senseless in a dark alley; and that the words to the song are relatively filthy, i can’t help myself.

the chorus kills me every time, especially the point in the song where the song seems to melt for a second.

i’m so grateful i don’t have to go up against my dear pal leifer in any more rock trivia contests. i’ve killed far too many brain cells to be able to compete.

but at least, 20+ years later, i can finally answer this one.

sorry seems to be the hardest word

sorry seems to be the hardest word

yom kippur is a day when we jews apologize for our sins and ask G-d to inscribe us in the book of life.

there are so many things for which i am sorry. a few:

i’m sorry i lose patience with people, especially with my kids.

i’m sorry i am occasionally horrible to the people who love me the most.

i’m sorry i don’t always keep my promises to myself.

i’m sorry i am not doing more to make the world a better place for my kids and for everyone else’s kids.

and

i’m sorry i make assumptions about other people.

guilty pleasure monday: something about you (level 42)

guilty pleasure monday: something about you (level 42)

level forty-who? that’s what people in the states might say when they hear the name of the band responsible for my next guilty pleasure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2MfQJL98aM

in fact, i thought of this song after thinking about last week’s guilty pleasure monday selection. wow, i thought, didn’t simply red sing “something about you”? no, they didn’t — level 42, another uk band with a mellow sound (clearly destined for soft rock stations everywhere), are the guilty party.

now, the kids of today (yes, please lecture us, granny wreke!) cannot remember the time when people actually looked forward to watching music videos! (YES! and there was a time when we had no such thing as “the real world,”  “TRL,” and rap actually was decent and said something interesting.) but, yeah verily, we folks of a certain age can remember actually watching music videos.

and something about you has a video that completely freaked me out. the video, seen above, appears to show something scary about each band member’s relationship with their (real? who knows) girlfriends/wives. that’s not so bad, i suppose. i mean, every relationship has a downside. but then…

ENTER THE CLOWN.

that freaky clown scared the crap out of me.

to this day, i wonder: when BS and i are arguing, is the clown behind me, glowering? when we drive away in the car, is the clown peering through my doorway? is he performing a song and dance in my attic?

so i knew i must nominate this song for guilty pleasure monday.

the clown told me i had to do it.

all those years ago

all those years ago

when i was growing up, there was a boy in my class. he was always in my class. and i was always behind him, as his last name started sta and mine was ste, from elementary school through high school. we were both precociously smart, always doing the extra work since this was the world before gifted and talented classes.

i couldn’t abide him back in the day. (i suspect it was mutual, as i wasn’t exactly the human cakewalk then.) it wasn’t really personal; frankly, i couldn’t abide most boys at school back in the day. i think it was one of those ewww, boys have cooties sort of life decisions. and after high school, i never heard a whit of him again. i moved away from my hometown, and this, of course, was the land before facebook and twitter and blogs. but now, he has found me. and you know what?

i’m so very glad he found me: he’s funny as hell.

i say this because recently, i joined facebook. and in an instant, i found — or was found by — all these people i knew 25 years ago. its unbelievable that people i’ve wondered about for years now can simply IM me any time i’m on FB. and it’s a hoot re-meeting people as grownups.

its a little weird at times, admittedly.

but that being said, it is also rather healing. a girl i was best friends with my junior and into-senior years of high school — she found me. i was furious with her when she went after the only boy i liked. and we stopped talking; in truth, i probably simply stopped talking to her.

and what a shame. because when we started talking again, it was like we had only talked last tuesday. it’s nice to walk down memory lane with people who remember you as you were, but only a few people can pick up from there and start to appreciate you as you are now. and she could, and i could, and i wondered about all those years i had squandered in a pig-headed moment.

ah well. it’s nice to look forward with people who knew you when you were a bit more backward.

guilty pleasure monday: holding back the years (simply red)

guilty pleasure monday: holding back the years (simply red)

because it’s new year’s eve (for us red sea pedestrians), i thought i’d make a somewhat appropriate entry into the book of my musical guilty pleasures:

it’s hard for me to believe that simply red was one of the bands that resulted from a famous sex pistols stint in manchester in 1976 (a set of shows that ultimately inspired the creation of the buzzcocksthe smiths, joy division/new order, not to mention factory records. this bit of history, by the way, is chronicled in the movie 24 hour party people, a painful but interesting work. i defy you to not hate the happy mondays once you’ve seen it.) i mean, here’s the seminal british punk act inspiring other complete musical departures… and simply red?

simply red? holding back the years, the major hit for the band in the states, is a lulling, wistful ode to growing up, moving on, yet holding on to your dreams. this is no anarchy in the uk, kids — mick is wishing for the arms of mater(mater? pater? who the hell calls their parents in latin?) apparently, the song originally was not so subdued.

and yet, that’s exactly what i love about it. it’s meditative elevator music, an earworm of a song that never leaves you. when i was 20 and starting my life over (the first time) in a variety of ways (moved away from our childhood home, starting out at a new university, etc.), i completely glommed onto a song that captured the way i felt.  and whenever i hear it, it brings me back straightaway to a spring and summer i cried through after an excruciating, but expected, breakup.

good. times.

but the good thing about hearing the song now is that i did keep holding on — to myself. and i’m still here. still annoying people. still listening to bad music.

and still trying to make each year better than the last.

to those of you who celebrate rosh hashana, l’shanah tova!

i'm so tired

i'm so tired

yesterday, i had the pleasure of sitting beside two mothers, both with babies. one was armed with weisbluth’s healthy sleep habits, happy child. the two began to talk about sleep training. i began to smile, thinking about the joys of sleep training (or lack thereof) my kids.

in order to fully prepare yourself for sleep training, you ought to first start by watching a 72-hour marathon of something truly awful, never once allowing yourself to rest. (i recommend something like saved by the bell. or caillou. or, perhaps, jerry springer?) intermittently, you need to start a painful discussion with your partner every six hours or so, just so that you can get yourself swirled into an emotional fever pitch. fight about money? your in-laws? your politics? his wandering eye? whatever gets you truly exhausted and exasperated — that’s your topic. also, whack yourself in the head a few times. sporadically, of course, and not enough to cause brain damage. maybe you shouldn’t eat much, either, during this time.

once you’ve completed torture time, get ready to rumble.

seriously, i thought i was going to lose my mind when BC was a baby. nevermind that she had reflux, was colicky, did not gain weight well, and was often sick. she never. ever. slept. my mother would try to make me feel better: she’s always awake because she’s so smart — she’s curious about the world. [note to self: must remember this line when BC’s first child never sleeps.] but all the books i read said that a child naps a certain number of hours, a child goes to bed for certain hours.

BC never did either.

i would start the nightly walk with BC once the colic started. i sang the entire Beatles repertoire, i sang plenty of the crosby, stills, nash catalog, and of course, i sang her nightly bedtime song:

sometimes, i’d get tricky and sing it this way:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knygIbt2D-8

the girl loved my singing, but she’d never settle down to sleep. i’d rock her, she’d nap, i’d put her down, she’d wake up screaming. i had to feed her every time she wanted food — she was a poor weight gainer, so i was shoving a bottle at her every time i could, all hours, all the time. it was a dance that led her to poor sleep habits for awhile and led me to a horrific case of shingles.

girlfriend didn’t have a full night of sleep until she was 18 months old.

when jools started down that path, there was no way on Dog’s Green Earth we were reliving that fun. see, i am from the rock the child to sleep attachment parenting front but my husband is from the shut the door and let him scream until next tuesday front. (not to be confused with those women from venus and men from mars fronts.) in short, we could not agree.

there was a time when i’d laugh at the idea of paying for someone to help you learn parenting skills. i laugh no more. the woman who saved our sleep, our marriage, our sanity, cost us very little compared to what she gave us: she got BS and me on the same page about sleep training (read: gentle ferberization), and she got jools sleeping perfectly in no time. she gave us a plan; we followed it. and. it. worked.

i have friends who are serious attachment parenting people; and if that works for them, i am happy. live and let live. i think different kids have different temperaments, and so what works for one child may not work for them all. for me? well, i was always afraid i would roll over on a baby if i co-slept. i was that tired. and the funny thing that i notice about some of my friends who let the kids sleep in their rooms — they have a hell of a time getting their kids out of their bedrooms and into their own rooms later on.

so now, our sleep is interrupted more by other things: sick kids, kids who fear the impending death of their mother, angst. but we turn on our nighttime music, cuddle up with whatever (or whoever) is near, and attempt to re-enter that magical realm of morpheus.

so, as i listened to the mothers — one, a mother of a three-month old, and the other, a mother of a toddler and a newborn — talk about sleep theories, i chuckled to myself.

been there. done that. and ain’t going back.

feed me, seymour

feed me, seymour

i’m woefully overdue for responding to this meme that my pal nylonthread assigned. you’ll find that i am not exactly a major carnivore. i don’t eat a ton of meat or fish; i don’t eat pork at all; and i don’t really have any interest whatsoever in eating most animals, exotic or not. i don’t like the taste, and i don’t see the point. but that’s just me: a girl who, as a child, would take a peanut butter and jelly sammich over a steak. i’ve never, ever been able to get excited about a steakhouse or a great seafood restaurant.

now a vegetarian restaurant? THAT i get excited about. i don’t mind chicken, though it’s not like i search it out most of the time. me, i like beans, cheese, nuts and nut butters, and veggies.

and chocolate, of course.

but to each his own.

the rules:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros

4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile (does alligator count? i tried some on my honeymoon.)
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp (does gefilte fish count?)
9. Borsch

10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho (LOVE PHO)
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart

16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream

21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans

25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters (had to have a few beers before i tried it. no more for me, thanks.)

29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (and no, i don’t especially like clam chowder. or clams.)
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float

36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo

40.
Oxtail
41.
Curried goat
42.
Whole insects (unless you count my unintentional inhalation of bugs.)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more

46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala (YUMMMMM)
48.
Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut

50.
Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
– not sure.
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle

57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores

62.
Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin (uhm, isn’t that clay?)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake

68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73.
Louche absinthe
74.
Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie (my lunch of choice senior year in high school)
78.
Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum (tom yum kai, to be more specific)
82. Eggs Benedict (ew.)
83.
Pocky (but i’d be happy to try it!)
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85.
Kobe beef
86.
Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers

89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91.
Spam (no spam was a cornerstone of our marital negotiations.)
92.
Soft shell crab
93.
Rose harissa
94.
Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
(hello. what tribe am i from?)
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100.
Snake

guilty pleasure monday: do you wanna funk (sylvester)

guilty pleasure monday: do you wanna funk (sylvester)

find yo’ dancin’ shoes that you kicked aside last week. lace up them high-heeled sneakers.

do you wanna funk with me?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKP9mq7HJjQ&feature=related

the late, great sylvester james was a hell of a guy — and girl, i suppose, performing solo as well as part of a transvestite group which at one point included divine among it’s ranks.  s/he did his bit for freedom and the american way, and it was a sad, sad day when we lost him to AIDS in 1988.

it’s pretty damn hard for me to choose between funk and you make me feel (mighty real), as they both put the fun into funky, HI-NRG disco. but back when i was allegedly too cool to like any sort of dance music, well, i secretly treasured this song among others.

good thing it has a great hook. his falsetto is SO damn high, there’s no WAY anyone over the age of four can sing along with it. acceptably, that is.

anyway, i’m too busy dancing right now to say anything terribly clever. besides, in disco, it’s not exactly about the lyrics, for the most part.

so go dance. go on.

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Cape Town, South Africa