WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING
I’m about to discuss things of a sexual nature. Nothing from my personal sex life, but it will include mention to sex. And opinions on sex.
You might not wanna read it.
This is your chance to turn back.
Turn Back O Man.
So when the Fifty Shades of Grey frenzy first begun I downloaded the free sample of the book to my kindle out of pure curiosity. I read the sample and decided I wouldn’t download the book for the sheer fact that…I mean come on I think we can all agree the writing is horrid.
I know I am certainly not the authority on writing and I also understand that 50 Shades is meant for other purposes than….reading alone but even still I just couldn’t get into it.
But I kept hearing so much about it, how good it and how much everyone loved it.
A fellow nanny that I go on play dates with occasionally told me that I, “NEEDED” to read it “IMMEDIATELY!!”
So I figured what the hell, and I downloaded the book when I got home.
There’s a lot of contreversy surrounding the book and its content.
Some people are up in arms over the sexual nature of the material. To them I say, “shut up, its erotica! If you don’t like it don’t read it!”
Some are upset less by the fact that its erotica and more by the fact that it chronicles a BDSM relationship (between two consenting adults oh my!) And even this doesn’t bother me. Fun fact I have a friend (who shall remain nameless of course,) that has a “girlfriend” but the “girlfriend” is actually his submissive. Yes. He gives her orders and she follows them. Flawlessly. They explained their relationship to me once and while it struck me as something I would never ever do, I found it almost romantic in a strange way. When it comes to sexual preferences my battle cry is always: TO EACH THEIR OWN! (andwearacondomgettestedmakesureyoutalkaboutit)
But I do have one major bone to pick with the book. Granted I’ve read about 5 or 6 chapters so far.
This is I guess…in theory a spoiler so….brace yourself.
My single complaint with 50 Shades of Grey is the INCREDIBLY unrealistic portrayal of female sexuality.
The main character, Anastasia is a virgin when she meets the Sadist with a heart of gold, Christian Grey. Upon their first time having sex (aka when Anastasia loses her virginity) he gives her orgasms practically just by looking at her. You think I’m exaggerating but I’m actually not that far off. The book perpetuates this idea that women can climax merely by a man having intercourse with her (can you tell I’m trying to use clinical language here because I feel weird writing anything else on the blog my family members read?)
And I think the majority of adults know that this is not the case. Hopefully.
But I do wonder…
And I worry that young women are going to read this book, because they think “oh this is classier than porn” and somehow view it as a more reputable, accurate portrayal of what its like to have sex. I wish I could quote the book without dying a thousand deaths but as I was reading it, it reminded me of Harry Potter in the sense that it was so fantastical and I thought “well wouldn’t it be great if this happened in real life!”
I know. I know my expectations are high, to expect a book that is purely for sexual entertainment to also be realistic. If it were then it wouldn’t be a sensation.
BUT it did remind me that wayyyy back when I was 18 I had started writing (don’t laugh!) a book that was meant to be a frank, practical, instructional book about sex and sexuality for girls in high school. Because I felt like Samantha Jones on Sex and the City had led me astray and caused me to have this incredible expectations about what sex would be and how it would change my life.
The “book” was only a few chapters long. Mostly because when I set out to write it, I was still a virgin. (Now you can laugh.)
I still think there’s a real need for such a book.
I also think I’d have to write it under a pen name in order to not be run out of this stupidly puritanical “pretend separation of church and state” country with pitchforks.
The young ladies of this generation need to be saved from waiting for their “Edward/Jacob/ Christian Grey” prince charmings.
And I’m thinking that maybe I might pick up my old draft from the first time around and see what I can do.
As opposed to reading 50 Shades this would be time better spent!
Hey there internet friends!
I have many reality television addictions
(sorry I am naht sorry.) One of my most treasured vices is a splendid little Lifetime program called Dance Moms. For those living under a rock (I implore you under the rock peeps to snag yo’self a DVR) Dance Moms is a reality show chronicling the lives of competition team dancers at a Pittsburgh dance studio. Their teacher, Abby Lee is a character to say the least and she’s gotten a lot of flack for the way she speaks to her students, treats them etc. As a former competitive dancer I can relate to aspects of the show, and though Abby can be harsh, she gets the results these girls are looking for, theoretically careers as professional dancers.
A friend of mine, E, got an opportunity to attend the Abby Lee Dance Company’s recital. She graciously offered to take notes and then compile the notes for a guest blog (guest blogs are quickly becoming my new favorite thing *wink wink* if anyone out there has something to say and wants a format to publish it!)
Here’s all the juicy gossip, thanks to E for the awesome intel!!
ONCE IN A LIFETIME YOU……
Get to go to the Abby Lee Miller Dance Company dance recital.
At least, you get to go if you are me and have a fun mother who is willing to drive 4.5 hours to Pittsburgh with you when she can’t even stand Dance Moms. So, yes, be jealous, be very jealous because I was able to see the elite 6 dance in person- and meet Abby for the 2nd time 🙂 That’s right, me and the grandame of dance go way back!
Let’s start with the recital and work out way backwards, and around and about since that’s what I tend to do. The recital took place at Pittsburgh’s Hillman Center for the Arts at the Shadyside academy. I wanted to go back to high school and re-enroll there it was so beautiful. I loved it. I didn’t love a 4-hr. long recital though. Nothing needs to be 4 hrs. long. That is a long time to sit. That is a long time to watch lots of lyrical, like 90% lyrical and 10% everything else together. That is a long time to be sweltering, but I did it in the name of dance.
It started with a little toot of a number that was, frankly, painful. The teacher needs to be seriously taken out and hung, and unless Abby had no clue it was in the program, she must’ve been sipping on something pretty crazy during the dress rehearsal because it was a hot mess. Yes, it was the recreational part of her dance company (Reign Dance Productions) and not the ALDC but these were 12-13 year olds looking at each other unable to shuffle in sync. And they had terrible, cheesy props that no one knew what to do with, so they stood there, staring at each other, looking miserable, with large silver cardboard coins. I was mortified on their behalf. 5 and under, it’s just kids being cute; 6+ can handle a routine.
From there the recital went on with close to 80 numbers, only 3 of which were songs that were at all recognizable to the normal ear, and it was almost a perfect trade-off between the Dance Moms girls and the senior company. Once every five numbers, we’d get a recreational number, and aside from the first horrible routine, they were all perfectly fine. The theme was cute: “Once in a lifetime…” as in, “Once in a lifetime you go to Europe,” Once in a lifetime you….have your first kiss, fall in love, go to rehab, tame a lion, defect to the USA, become a bull-fighter, become a doctor, dance your last dance…” and so on and so forth.
The costumes were awesome. There were so many that I wanted to order for myself to wear in real life, the numbers were good, but why not trim the length a little bit….lyrical/contemporary is clearly their thing. So after I’ve seen the same group of dancers do 3 similar numbers- I’m good. I don’t need ten. Their tapping was awesome both at the young and old level; their ballet was atrocious. I guarantee you that most of you reading this could go out and there and execute the same routine that even the seniors did and it was so heavy and awkward. Someone needs to step in with a ballervention.
Stand-outs were John Fiumara, the current Mr. National Dance of the Dance Masters circuit, a young lady named Stephanie Pittman who is the DEA Ms. National DAnce (deservedly so) and, like it or not, Maddie.
Here’s why: if you have ever watched the show for even 5 minutes, you know that it is pretty much dependent on the conflict and tension that arises from her being or not being the best (depending on who is arguing), her getting more attention, more solos, and more love from Abby than anyone else. Sometimes the mothers are crazy-pants, sometimes they have somewhat valid points. But, she can dance, probably better at this point than Chloe and still, with way more heart.
You see, there was this tap number. It was ensemble rhythm tap. About 15 kids on stage. All of them a bit older than Maddie (12-14 I’m thinking). At no time during this number did anyone have a solo, do anything special to detract attention from the group, and aside from being smaller, you wouldn’t have thought much about her- except for the fact that radiating from her face in a way that NO OTHER CHILD (with the possible exception of John Fiumara) had was pure, unbridled joy. The kind you’d love to bottle up and have for yourself. She’d look to the person next to her from time to time and give a little smile or wink and it was clear- here is a child who doesn’t need the solos, the specials, the costumes, etc. she dances because she was born to do so, and because it is so inherently a part of her being, those other things happen for her. I wish you could’ve seen that part of her dancing. It was just delightful.
Surprisingly, the child who comes the next closest to her in terms of watchability is Kendall. Chloe is good, but still stiff, Nia is better than she was, but still nowhere near the top tier level. Here’s another interesting fact. Apparently, Maddie also got a full-summer scholarship to the Joffrey. At least, according to the ALDC program she did. Four children got in, two received partial scholarships (neither of those were a Dance Mom kid) and then under both Maddie and Chloe’s name, along with their other accolades, was the full-scholarship to the Joffrey. Questionable, I’d say?
Between my previous meeting with Abs, and this one, I also picked up a few other juicy tidbits. Apparently, all the mothers are fantastic. Even Kelly. Even Jill (who appears to have had some work done, a facelift perhaps? a little weight loss? Hair dye? Whatever it is, it is definitely working!)With one exception: Christy. Apparently she is not nice, not fun, and a royal pain to be near. My senior member contact said multiple times that she is one of the most disliked people at the studio.
Remember Peyton? She’s still there. Never, ever left. Dances really well with the senior company and has an older sister who was a professional dancer. She also apparently never left, never went elsewhere, and it was just a stir-the-pot storyline. There’ s no bad blood between her and Abby, etc. Her mom, in real life, is exactly as she was portrayed on TV and just was dying for her 5 minutes of fame.
All of the girls get tutored because the show films during the day. So they are quite out of touch with that degree of normalcy.
Cathy from Candy Apples with her jerky-loving husband was a good friend of Abby. They used to travel together, they sometimes roomed together at different competitions and really enjoyed each other’s company. No more. Because of this show, Cathy turned into a woman exactly like she is portrayed too. Petty, dying for a spin-off, and totally rude, mean and backstabbing to Abby who apparently helped her out quite a bit in earlier days. In fact, one of the senior company girls used to babysit Vivi, and at a competition went up to give her a hug and Cathy literally grabbed her from the ALDC girl’s hands. Also, when leaving the recital, she turned to Abby and said, basically, “You stink.” Abby said, “Get out of here and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” To which Cathy replied, “You can’t even afford a door!” What?? Who says that?!?!
Finally, I ran right in to Melissa and started talking to her. I asked if her daughters were as sweet in real life as they were on TV and she said, “yes, 90% of the time.” We laughed; she asked me how I liked the recital. We shot the breeze for a couple of minutes and then looked at each other awkwardly. I had a souvenir program in my hands, and she probably assumed that I’d want her autograph, but I only asked Abby for an autograph during our conversation, so it would’ve made no sense at all to get just one dance mom and not the full cast. So, I said, “Umm, can I get a picture with you?” She smiled brightly and said sure- and she looked awesome. Beautiful blue dress- fresh highlights, glowing skin, and what I believe to be a baby bump. This bump was so pronounced that it just wasn’t the type of thing you’d let slide if you weren’t trying to show it off. If you had a bump like this made of chub, you’d have selected a different dress, not something so clingy, and you’d have invested in serious shapewear so if it breaks that Melissa is pregnant again- you heard it here first. I asked my mom and she concurred- no woman in their right mind would look that way in a dress on national TV if it wasn’t a baby bump.
Abby and the moms and kids stayed out and signed autographs/posed for pictures for HOURS after the recital. They honestly had to have been just exhausted. What is somewhat amusing though is that no one- not Abby, not any of the mother’s, or kids had an assistant- except Maddie. I don’t know whose idea it was, or why, but a Lifetime worker was by her 24/7 with water, snacks, and a general air of protection. So funny. Can you imagine what she thought the day that her bosses at lifetime said, “This will be your job for the next year. Personal assistant to a relatively unfamous 10-year-old.”
There you have it. It was truly magical. I love Abby Lee Miller so very much. I hope she does a little trimming on future recitals, but it was still awesome to see; almost all her students were well-prepared and danced beautifully. Even the non-competition kids, and she was resplendent, albeit a bit heavier than in late April, in gold. Let’s just get the cameras on her 24/7. I’d take 17 spin-offs too!!
So, it should come as no surprise to anyone in my life/reading my blog that I am in the process of looking for an apartment.
As in, my first big girl apartment. That I will pay the rent and utilities for. That I will pay to furnish.
And, as with all major life milestones, I am spending all of my spare time devoting every last iota of energy to this topic.
To much, much frustration.
I will admit there is a little joy to be had in Craigslist hunting, a tiny glimmer of breathless exhilaration when you find a listing that, JUST. MIGHT. WORK. GLORY BE TO GOD FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.
But for the most part, Craigslist appears to be an endless shit hole of sadness. And after hours of scrolling and scrolling and refreshing with reckless abandon I have begun to suspect that English as a Second Language teachers are assigning “make a craigslist apartment rental post” for homework. Extra points to be had if you can change the words just enough to repost it serval times in one hour!
At this point my roommate and I, who I shall henceforth refer to as: Saint Roommate. or SR for short, have to come to terms with the fact that we will likely have to use a broker to find an apartment that is clean, affordable, and not in a meth lab neighborhood. And despite our brokersfee defeat a small (READ:INSANE) part of me still holds out hope that we can get ourselves an abode off of the grand ol’ C-list.
Because complaints run through my veins almost as freely as guilt and paranoia I have compiled a list of my top Craigslist pet peeves in no particular order.
1. The abuse of the Caps Lock key. Few things are worse than opening a post only to be accosted by this:
QUAINT COZY UNDERPRICED LUXURY CONDO STYLE LIVINGGGGG!!!!! EAT IN KITCHEN!!!!!!! NEWER-STYLE ELECTRIC RANGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. CATS ALLOWED: MEOWWWWWW!
My eyes. They are sore from your font-yelling.
2. Pictures, or lack thereof.
I would like to meet the human who is willing to rent an apartment without seeing pictures of it. Maybe I’m just a product of my generation, but I’d be hard-pressed to even contact a listing without a photo. “Newly renovated! gleaming hardwood floors and updated appliances” you say? How is it you can afford to renovate an apartment but not afford a mother trucking digital camera to photograph it hmmmmmmm? I’m not buyin’ it.
Then, we have the schmucks who steal stock photos:
But don’t bother to even make sure the rooms match each other, even slightly.
Also, as a note to all realtors, THIS DOES NOT COUNT AS A “PHOTO” I PURPOSELY CHECK THAT DAMN “IMAGE ONLY BOX” TO FILTER YOU AND YOUR LAZY SHITTY SHIT OUT.
3. The “creative wording” that runs rampant.
“EIK, LIVING, DINING, LAUNDRY, PARKING INCLUDED!”
Except, no. No. Nopey. No.
Half of this is a dirty lie. Most often the “laundry” part. Sometimes laundry just means “hook ups.” Because most people who can just barely afford a 1600 dollar a month apartment just have spare washers and dryers layin’ around. Or they say Washer: close by. Dryer: close by.
What do these words mean?
Is this real life?
You say laundry is in apartment but laundry is not actually in the apartment?
Does close by mean…the basement? The garage? The three season back porch…perhaps? OR IS IT JUST A LAUNDROMAT DOWN THE STREET YOU DIRTY LYING CRAIGSLIST WHORE!?!!?!?!!?!?
4. The atrocious spelling and grammar.
My personal favorite was a listing that I wish I had screen captured. It was for an apartment on the second floor of a two family home. There was talk of it being near a “grossery” store. And the listing ended with this sentence, completely out of the blue:
“There is a 60 years old couple on the floor.”
Now, to be fair, I assume they meant that the couple living on the lower floor was a 60 year old couple.
The way it was worded caused me to picture two old people. Just laying on the floor of the apartment.
“Them? Oh thats Donald and Rose. They’re just on the floor. Yep. Yeah yeah its fine just step right on over em’.”
5. WHY YOU NO CLEAN APARTMENT BEFORE YOU TAKE PICTURES?!
Act I: The Drive
Sarah: Okay, so the directions say we’re taking 93 South
G-mama: On Wednesday we’re goin tah Foxwood.
Sarah: Oh, Foxwoods?
G-mama: Yuh, Foxwood. I don’t like Foxwood as much as tha Mohegans because I know my way around Mohegans bettah but we’re naht gonna have much time tah gamble anyhow because we’re gonna wanna eat and then we’re also gonna see Dean-o’s son. Ricky something. Naht the Ricky that’s on Broadw…wait how are ya getting to 93 from this way?
Sarah: It’s just around this rotary.
G-mama: Oy! Dahling you’re going all around tha world here. You coulda gone just down tha otha..
Sarah: I know which way you mean but this is the most direct..
G-mama: No suh!
Sarah: *practices inhaling and exhaling. Focuses energy on not ripping the steering wheel off of the car.*
G-mama: Oh I woulda gone route 2 to 16 I dunno why you’re going this way.
Sarah: This. Is. What. The. Directions. Say.
G-mama: AAAAhhhhhhhh watch out!!!!! *presses imaginary brake pedal on her side of the car*
Sarah: I see them. My foot isn’t even on the gas pedal.
G-mama: Well you don’t have to rush up ta them!!!!
Sarah: I’m going to blind fold you next time.
Act II: The Restaurant
G-mama: Arright here I gut coupons fah you, you eat at Boston Mahket right?
Sarah: Well, not often because I can never finish the food and I’m just one person.
G-mama: *pushing the coupons further toward me* They have meals fah one!
Sarah: I know but I can never finish them its a waste. The smallest meal is like a quarter chicken and I’ll never eat that in one sitting. Ever.
G-mama: Oh. I cud eat ah half a chicken if I wanted.
Sarah: In one sitting?
G-mama: Oh yes. I don’t have ta be hungry ta eat.
Sarah: *Takes coupons and throws them in purse.*
Act Three: The Cast Off
G-mama: Come come! I want ya ta see this bedspread.
Sarah: Umm ok.
G-mama: *Pulls from the back of the closet, a hideous floral bedspread.* I just gut it cleaned!
(translation: I took it to a dry cleaner in 1997.)
G-mama: See its all cotton and everything! Its fah a double bed like you have!
Sarah: Yeahh… Yeah its nice its just that I don’t usually use bedspreads..
G-mama: *incredulous* Well what do ya use then?!
Sarah: I just use my down comforter all year round.
G-mama: Ugh! Why?!
Sarah: I dunno I just like how it feels I guess?
G-mama: Oookay. Well I figure you’re gonna have your own place soon..
Sarah: *unsure how a change in residence is going to change her bedding preferences but sees resistance is futile* Well, I guess I could take it…um…in case I have a guest, I guess?
G-mama: Oh good! See it’s pretty and its all cotton and for a double bed!
Sarah: Yeah! Thank you! *hoists stiff, been on this hanger for over a decade, bed spread into defeated arms.*
Him: I’m going to ask you some questions, can I?
Me: You can ask, I can’t promise I’ll answer.
Him: Hah! Alright then. You’re walking through a path in a forest and you come upon a cup. What does the cup look like?
Me: It’s small and white.
Him: Small and white okay, you take the cup with you further down the path and come upon a fountain. What do you do?
Me: Oh, I fill up the cup.
Him: Mmmhmm okay. Further down the path you come upon a bear, standing still in the middle of the path, what do you do?
Me: Put down the cup and walk as fast as I can in the other direction.
Him: You just leave the cup?
Me: I’ll get another cup.
Him: Alright so you’ve walked in the other direction and come upon a wall, what do you do now?
Me: I’d try to scale the wall.
Him: You scale the wall and reach the other side, what do you see?
Him: You see nothing?
Me: I see nothing. Just a blank void. You have an eyelash on your.. *I point to just below my left eye*
Him: And you can’t concentrate because you’re looking at my eyelash, did I get it?
Me: No, not quite it’s rightt…..
Him: You can touch me. You can just get it.
Me: Okay….here. But you have to make a wish.
Him: Let me tell you what these questions are supposed to mean, they’re supposed to symbolize your life and how you live it.
Me: Uh oh! Okay.
*take the time to answer on your own before you scroll down.**********************
–The first question is how you view your life (my answer: small and white…?)
-The second question is how you view your sexuality (my answer: fill up the cup)
-The third question is how you deal with conflict. (my answer: abandon the cup, walk in the other direction)
-The fourth question is how you view death (my answer: when I come upon it, I try to scale it to the other side.)
-The fifth question is how you view the afterlife: (my answer: nothing, a blank void.)
Yesterday morning on the way into work I heard a news story on the radio. It was about a Bus Monitor named Karen Klein who was bullied, ruthlessly, by a group of pre teen boys who video taped their antics and then put it on the internet.
I remember riding the bus to school when I was in middle school. It could get pretty chaotic in the back of the bus and I do remember a couple of occasions where kids were throwing stuff, notebooks, hats, etc into the air back and forth to each other, or maybe a fight would break out and the driver would either stop the bus or threaten to stop the bus if the students didn’t start behaving. I also remember my school bus had cameras (or at least signs that said there were cameras) which in theory would have thwarted bad behavior. We didn’t even have a monitor on our bus, and we probably could have used one. 13 year olds making out in the back of the bus is never a good thing and judging by the way things have gone in our society my guess is that they’d do a whole lot worse back there if given the chance.
I wondered how bad the video could really be, the DJ on the radio kept saying that it was “hard to watch” and I had figured it must have some sort of violence for it to be so talked about etc. I’ve got to say that watching the video was actually much harder than I had anticipated. I’m going to post it below but just be warned there’s a lot of really crude and harsh language. Full disclosure it took me a couple tries to sit through the entire 10 minutes. I got too disgusted and had to just turn it off multiple times. The part of the video that makes me saddest is when, even after these boys have been harassing her for nearly 10 minutes non-stop, they start asking her about her purse. They say “I wanna know where you bought it from! How much does it cost? I wanna know how fucking poor you are you fat ass.”
She takes the purse and shows them, that there are words written on it. Inspirational ones and she says to them “I try to live my life by some of these words” The kids are unphased and one remarks he’s surprised she can even read.
“Be remarkable” one of them reads aloud. “You already are remarkable because you can take up all of that seat.”
Watching the video I was so appalled. I wasn’t raised to say “sir” or “ma’m” but I was certainly taught to respect adults. I would never in a million years have ever, ever, ever, dared to say the words those kids did to ANYONE. Not to my peers, not to my teachers, not to my camp counselors, I cannot think of any instance in which I could say those things and not feel deep, wrenching, guilt and remorse.
I admire the fact that Karen didn’t stoop to the kids level, remaining relatively calm and just sort of taking it. I don’t know if I would have been able to sit through that continuous abuse without flying off the handle.
I guess as a Bus Monitor her job is to make sure everyone is safe and there’s no fighting or any other inappropriate physical behavior, I’m not sure what her power is in terms of discipline but it seems like this poor woman should have more authority.
As a bus monitor Karen makes roughy 15 grand a year, she is a 68 year old grandmother.
As the video has spread throughout the internet a fundraising campaign has been established so that Karen can take a nice vacation, or maybe even retire. Yesterday morning people had raised nearly half a million dollars for her and while that is nice and amazing, throwing money at this problem is not going to solve it.
I have a very small amount of experience in the realm of education right now. But I can tell from a combination of nannying and working as a teaching assistant that there is a SERIOUS lack of discipline happening right now in all facets of early childhood education. Of course, I know some incredible parents, and incredible kids but unfortunately they are the exception to the rule.
As a child I understood, very clearly, that if I misbehaved, there were consequences. If I talked back to my parents or anybody else there were consequences. Anything from time-outs to losing privileges. There were never any empty threats, they always followed through. My friend’s parents were the same and if I were at one of their houses and misbehaved ( I have no memory of ever doing this but I’m sure it happened once or twice) you can bet they were going to tell my parents. Same with my teachers. I never, ever, wanted to be sent to the office and I remember the guilt I felt when I got reprimanded for talking in class. No kid is a perfect angel all of the time but I remember in my childhood that kids, at the very least, listened to adults.
This past summer in Seattle I witnessed a myriad of ridiculousness. One camper I had on a Monday was a holy terror. She didn’t listen, she was disruptive, she wouldn’t participate. My teaching artist and I didn’t just allow her to bring every other kid’s experience down but when we met up at the end of the day to debrief I asked her what we were going to do, would we tell the parents? She basically hung her head sadly and said “Probably not, in my experience most parents might nod their heads at you but then do nothing to fix it, or conversely they may get extremely angry at you for suggesting their kid did anything wrong. Or ya know, they just tell you that the kid has some sort of behavioral disorder or developmental delay and then this makes it even worse because they essentially imply you’re just supposed to deal with it.”
The camper in question didn’t come back on Tuesday. On Wednesday when she failed to show up a third time I asked the coordinator if I should call and inquire about her absence (as we are trained to do.) That was when she told me that her mother had called in and said her daughter wouldn’t be returning because she “didn’t have enough fun.” This meant that the parent was flushing the tuition she paid (roughly 300 bucks) down the toilet at the whims of her badly behaving 5 year old.
Another kid had similar problems except instead of merely ignoring instructions she was also incredibly willful, talked back to me, kicked and screamed and yelled. When we finally did approach her parents about the issue they were apologetic but also seemed to be at a loss at how to fix it. At the end of the week they handed me a Starbucks gift card “for all the stuff you had to put up with.” I will say it was nice not to have to buy my morning coffee for a week and a half but I would give up a lifetime of free Starbucks if her fathers had actually disciplined her, punished her in some way, instead of shrugging their shoulders.
I understand that we shouldn’t stifle kid’s creativity, and we shouldn’t censor them too much but somewhere along the line things are going wrong.
Kids are difficult. And they test you, and likely every iota of your patience. But if you make a decision to have children, and want to raise them in modern day society and send them to public school and have them interact with other humans then you have to buck up and make the effort. You have to be the bad guy sometimes. When your kid misbehaves or gets in trouble at school etc you have to say “Ok, you can’t go on to that play date/birthday party/to the park.” And they will cry, and scream, and kick, and maybe even get so worked up that they throw up. They will probably say that they hate you and you’re the meanest mommy/daddy/auntie/nanny whatever. But that’s part of the job.
Treating your kid like they’re made of glass, not correcting them or allowing other adults in their life to do so either is not doing your kid a single favor. The one and only time you should ever baby your children is when they are in fact, a baby. Kids are smart and they are always learning. If parents don’t show them, and show them early, how to behave (in my experience) they will likely never learn it.
They’ll grow up to be those mean boys on the school bus. Bullying people for their own amusement and then being so bold as to PUT IT ON THE INTERNET. Not only did they torment this woman (allegedly this is not the first time they’ve done it.) and cause her, a grown woman who has raised her own children, to cry they then further violated her privacy and put the film on the internet without her permission for the world to see.
That’s a whole different problem. The fact that these kids had 1. access to some technological gadget with which to film this incident and 2. unsupervised access to the internet baffles me!
All I can say is that I hope that these kids have had their computers taken away at the very, very, least. And that their parents are embarrassed beyond all comprehension.
I don’t even know the kids in question, they don’t even live in my state and I’m embarrassed for them.
There is simply no excuse.
In my facebook message inbox today was a message from my cousin. The message contained only one line:
You should blog about this photo:
I scrolled down and this was the photo in question:
This is a picture of Mary Kate Olsen, her boyfriend (though that I think, is a “man” friend.) whose name is Olivier Sarkozy and his daughter who is 11 years old.
There are so many disturbing things about this picture I don’t even know where to start.
We all know who Mary Kate Olsen is. If you don’t I’m not sure you’re allowed to read this mediocre blog any longer until you’ve watched at least one whole season of Full House.
I personally had never heard of her “boyfriend” so here is a little info on him according to wikipedia
(which means everyone should take it with a grain of salt and nobody so sue me k thanks bye.).
He is allegedly 42, which makes him 16 years her senior. Which is younger than I thought he was. Realistically I think there’s nothing wrong with the age gap so I pass no judgements on that.
But this is my blog after all and you know it wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t pass at least a tiny morsel of judgement from my blogging throne on high.
First the obvious, it is creepy (so so creepy) that Mary Kate and Olivier’s daughter look very similar in this picture. Mostly because Mary Kate is either very short, or his daughter is very tall? Or Olivier alone is very tall? Its sort of hard to tell.
Other than the ridiculous outfit Mary Kate is wearing (what know I of fashion I guess I cannot comment) and the fact that her hair is likely unwashed. SHE IS SMOKING A CIGARETTE.
If you’re gonna date a dude with a child you have to be a good influence MK!
Also, in this picture (I say this because I’m sure MK doesn’t look like this every day) the first thing I thought of when I saw her was:
She looks like a gremlin mushroom fairy!
What does that mean exactly? I’m not sure.
But it just feels right.
Yesterday It was about 90 degrees out.
The air was so thick it felt like you were swimming in it.
Just looking outside was causing people to sweat, the sun was high in the sky and everything was blurry.
And I was wearing jeans.
FULL LENGTH JEANS.
Because I don’t like to wear shorts.
In fact before last month I didn’t even own a pair of shorts that went above the knee.
Do I own dresses that go above the knee? I sure do! But I always, always, always wear a pair of stockings with a dress. Most women my age find this gross, and antiquated. And I agree. I don’t love the feel of panty-hose but I sure do love the way they make my legs look like they have some semblance of melanin.
I don’t “mind” my legs. I actually think they’re pretty nice. They’ve retained most of the muscle I gained from all my years of dancing and they’re strong. Also, they work, which is something not to be taken for granted.
But I’m a short eastern european jew. I am never going to have the sinewy legs I dream of. Even though my rational, self-loving, feminist brain rejects the idea that I am less than beautiful because I don’t fit into the very small box of society’s “ideal.”
But I also have “girl brain.” And girl brain doesn’t love showing her thighs to the world. She likes it even less in shorts.
Because shorts are not flattering on the majority of people (in my opinion.)
Not to mention the shorts manufactured today are essentially 3 inches long and are made for girls whose thighs don’t touch.
Mine essentially have a common law marriage at this point.
Plus with shorts footwear can get tricky because unless I’m at the beach I don’t like to wear sandals/show my toes.
Another body part of mine that is perfectly normal but I like to keep under cover.
And shorts with sneakers looks ridiculous.
What is incredibly hypocritical of me is the fact that when I see other women, my size or even larger, wearing shorts I don’t ever think “Ew she looks awful in those shorts!” Usually I don’t think much of anything. Which I’m sure is what the majority of the human population would do if they saw me in shorts. After they regained their sight from being blinded by my paleness of course.
So recently when I was in TJ Maxx, I stumbled across a pair of shorts that didn’t seem too short, but also weren’t that long, butch lesbian carpenter length. They were also 16.99 (MAXINISTA FOR THE WIN.)
I tried them on preparing to hate them.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t hate them.
I certainly didn’t sing a hallelujah chorus, but they weren’t awful. So I bought them.
And shortly after that I wore them:
And I was miserable all day.
All day long I felt like people were staring at my thighs. Of course I know it isn’t true.
Also I missed spots while shaving my legs (don’t I always) so I ended up ghetto shaving them with a disposable razor and some lotion in my car. (I really should just give up my flirtation with vagrancy and go all in.)
So after the misery of Shortgate 2012 I put them away and I figured I’d live the rest of the summer like I always do, in jeans and dying of heatstroke.
But after yesterday I think its clear I need to find a way to be comfortable with showing my legs to the world. Or take up some sort of extreme religion forbidding me to show skin of any kind.
Ya know, one or the other.
I’ll let you know how it pans out.