Frog In North Georgia

No, really, I haven’t fallen from the Earth.  I just lamely marked my last post as a draft, then forgot to finish it up and post it - for a week.

And I’m trying to spend my writing type energies writing for Suite 101, the online magazine widget you see to the right, which actually earns some money, and other venues.  Though I intend to still entertain myself and anyone else who is interested on this blog.

I will attempt to post a photo of my failed hairstyle, which might provide a laugh.  Though nobody ever takes my picture.  Or they come out so badly that I delete them.  The hair though, is amusing.  I showed the stylist a photo of Penelope Cruz in Volver and said, similar cut to that.  She said, that is a whole lot of layers.

The haircut that actually happened looks sort of 1985.  Since I was alive in 1985, I am far too old to do “retro.”

Really big hair.

Tags: big hair, penelope cruz, suite 101.

Grandma called several weeks ago, “Christine!  I found a picture of Grandpa.”

I asked, “Your grandfather or mine?”

“Yours,” she said, “My ex-husband.  Oh, he used to be good looking.  I see why I fell for him… Okay, so you come get this picture so I stop looking at him.”

Right.

DD and I drive down there and have lunch with her.  The photo is nice, black and white, taken in 1940s France.  It looks very serious, like it belongs with a press pass, or passport dossier.  DD is fascinated.  But we forget it anyway.  Two weeks later we returned.  This time Grandma brought the photo down to the car.  DD immediately took custody of it.  Grandma had it wrapped in wrapping tissue held fast with giant rubberbands.  That is no match for a preschooler.

On the way home DD said, “Maman, tell me again who is this man.”

I tell her that is her great-grandfather.  She’s four and has never met him.

When we got home the picture was missing and I asked her what did she do with Grandpa.  She said, “He’s in my room.  I like him.”

Now she talks to him like she does her dolls and stuffed animals and carries him around the house.  He’s her new imaginary friend.

Today Grandpa rode to ballet with us, and Ballerina Bunny and Jolie (the bilingual doll).  Earlier in the week the three of them accompanied us to the grocery and he rode in the buggy with her.  I imagine that looked a little weird to other customers.

Tags: great grandfather, imaginary friend, press pass, stuffed animals.

We picked up Grandma and went to lunch where we ran into Uncle Hugh, who if anyone remembers outranks me because he was born sooner.  He is not really my uncle, but a long time family friend.  He’s (obviously) been around longer than me.

Hugh is my favorite Englishman.  I don’t actually know where he was born or when he and his mother, who married an American, came to America.  But he can affect any form of American or English accent, which is a good party trick.  And of course the accents come and go of their own free will.

We just ordered when he appeared.  He works very close by.  So this was a nice surprise to run into him.  DD is mad about him.  I suspect she is still not convinced that he is not Santa.  Every year around November he grows a shaggy beard.  I had thought it was just for warmth.  But he told me today that no, it’s because the kids think he’s Santa.  And he thinks that’s damn funny.  DD told me today she knows it is Uncle Hugh and not Santa.  But she doesn’t seem certain.  When she was two she was certain he was Santa.

Grandma announced that she saw the French Presidents wife on tv.

I said, “Oh yes, Carla Bruni.  She’s a pop star.”

Grandma is pleased that Carla is a modern woman who has not given up her singing just because she married the French President.

Photo by beyrouth

I like that Sarkozy is of Russian immigrant parentage; and Obama is just as American as I am with his international background. Wahoo, first generation like me.  Then I mentioned that DH got very annoyed with me when I told him that because I was stunned that he did not recognize Sarkozy as a Russian name.

Really?  You didn’t know Sarkozy is Russian?  He hissed at me something like it’s a foreign name baby.

Right, we weird children of immigrant people all have weird names and are all alike in our weirdness.  No offense taken.

Grandma said in a conspiratorial whisper, “We always have a lot of White Russians in France.”

When she says White Russians, she means those with royal lineage, and often money.  I said, “Well now you just have a lot of Russians.  The Wall fell in 1989.”

On the way home we passed the sitting area in front of her building.  It has nice big garden boxes and lawn chairs and is somewhat sheltered from the wind.  It was empty.  Grandma announced, “No Russians today.”

I said, “No Russians today?”

She said, “Yes, we have a lot of them living here.  They like this weather.”

I said, “You mean cold, like the motherland?”

She said she guesses.

I said “Don’t guess, most of their ports are north of the 70th parallel and freeze in the winter.  It’s an excellent reason to invade your southern neighbors.”

She said, “Well, they like to come to France.”

I said, “Grandma, everyone likes to come to France.  The food is good and the economy isn’t collapsing.”

Tags: carla bruni, grandma, russian immigrant, sarkozy is russian, white russians.

DD is obsessed with dressing her brother for Halloween. She has suggested several costumes. She is three. He is sixteen.

For example:

• Mama, for Halloween I will be a princess. Bubba can wear the fireman costume. It is too big for me. And he is a boy.
• Maybe he can be the doctor. But I don’t think so.
• It is not nice that Bubba can’t wear the fairy costume because he’s a boy.

Shaun of the Dead

He is not pleased.

I asked him what he has in mind. He said, “Shaun.”

I asked, “Shaun of the Dead?”

He said yes.

Yes! I get cool points for that.

Today DD says, “Mama, for Halloween I will be a princess. Who will be the prince?”

I suggested Daddy. (Hee hee.)

She said, “And Bubba! Bubba can wear a crown.”

When her brother arrived home she told him of her plans for him to wear a crown… and cape… and tights. She’s sorry the wand is broken.

He is not amused.

Tags: brother, bubba, fairy costume, family, fireman costume, humor, princess, shaun of the dead.

Today we ran into a family of eleven. Nine kids. I asked the mom (who I thought might be the grandma) if any of the three small children playing with mine were hers. She said yes. I asked all three of them? She said yes. I indicated the children behind me that she had been managing. She said yes, all mine. There are nine of them total. But the oldest are in college.

Wow. This is a woman who has been productive. (And she clearly smelled my curiosity.)

A myriad of questions ran through my head, that I did not ask because none of them are my business.

• Have you ever heard of birth control?
• It’s 1pm; are they all home schooled?
• Do you live in a compound?
• What does dad do for a living?
• Do you live on a farm because you have to grow your own food to feed that many people?
• Are you the only wife?
• The baby isn’t really your grandchild?
• How many rooms are in your house?
• Do you own a bus?
• Were you fourteen when you married?

I was mentally duct taping my mouth shut so the questions would not escape me. Still, some things got out.

Forty-something mother of noisy children says she tries to keep them quiet in the library and often thinks the children’s section belongs behind a glass wall. I say, yes, I advise my child to play quietly. But there are toys here. So I don’t make it a big deal.

She says yes. I say my child is very excited today, because usually when we come there are not more than five or six children. She is really happy to play with them. Forty-something mother says, yes, there are a lot more than usual today. I say yes, well if you have nine there will always be more than six when you are here. You could have a sports team.

Duh.

We smile at my stupidity. She has that patient, inveterate look of a person who has heard that remark thousands of times from curious idiots in public places.

I was hoping we would leave at the same time so I could see what they were driving. She was collecting her children at the same time. But you just can’t round up seven of them like you can a single one. We just went on, not allowing myself to act like a stalker.

Outside I looked at all the vans and buses in the parking lot wondering which one could be theirs, or if the teens rode in a separate car. I spied one that was enormous that did not belong to the senior center and was glad that I would have to drive past it on my way out and not circle around to satisfy my curiosity. It was like a daycare bus, filled with various size carseats for the smaller children. It had an 8 1/2 x 11 size bumper sticker with a bible verse on it. That could be it.

I still want to know if she is the only wife.

Tags: birth control, compound, curiosity, large family, mom, nine kids, wife.

Have I mentioned that I love mindless action flics?  I love them.  I am sure that I’m the only (heterosexual) woman watching movies for guys who like movies - whatever channel that is.  I’m kind of a freak.  I will watch the Godfather on one channel and Terminator on another.  I’m an equally big fan of Platoon and Scarface.

Imagine my happiness now:

Must Watch: Officially Badass JCVD Trailer « FirstShowing.net

Must Watch: Officially Badass JCVD Trailer

Tags: action, Badass, Entertainment, JCVD, mindless action, Movie, Trailer, van damme.

God Almighty, he’s hairy.

Tags: Cracked, famous people, Hairy, Sean Connery.

The coolest thing about my new life is that I don’t have one manager.  Rather, I can submit written work, or bid for work, and accept or reject tasks at will.  wtf am I talking about?  I’ve been doing freelance work for the past three weeks and mostly love it.  Most interesting have been my instructions.

I receive editorial guidelines from various publications and editors (in additions to rejections and demands of course).  Usually instructions come in the form of a lot of legalese in bullet format, and a really long manual demanding MLA or Chicago style citations.

But occasionally, I’ll get instructions that are really amusing.  One morning I receive a typical bullet pointed legally binding invitation to do no less than ten articles, in a very formal style.  Excellent, it’s work.  I have work.  Praise God, I have work.  I have no idea how I’m going to complete ten very technical articles in the proscribed period of time while caring for a small child and attempting to get sleep.  But hooray, I have work.

Evening, I receive a note from a humor editor at a very different publication saying yes, work on that query followed by brief instructions:  just don’t post any naked pictures.

For real?

I went back and read it again.  Yes, my instructions include expletives and say don’t post any naked pictures.  They are not one third the length of any other instructions I have received.  And the editors signature is a gif that is totally R rated.  I laughed so hard I woke up DD.  She came toddling out with bedhead hair demanding to know what is so funny.  Of course, that’s why I want to write for insane publication, even the corporate email is funny.

I tell DH.  He says, you’re going to write for them?  He is staring at me as though an alien has landed beside him.  I am completely unrecognizable to him.  I am so not even close to being that funny to him that he cannot comprehend of it.  I turn the screen toward him.  He frowns.  He asks wth did I send them?  I say, a writing sample.  He says, don’t tell his mother.  Then he goes back to his pc and tries to ignore my laughter.

He has been telling me to be very careful for two days now.  Drive carefully.  Be very careful today.  I wonder what he thinks I am going to do?  I am not going to ask him.

Tags: chicago style citations, editorial guidelines, editors, formal style, humor editor, rejections, technical articles.

Of course I find this really funny in a wrong sort of way.

6 Emails You Get When Your Company Is About to Go Under | Cracked.com

Notice that Bob is doing Ted’s work, but didn’t get Ted’s title? That’s because while Bob got some of Ted’s responsibilities and they made up a new title for him, he didn’t get a promotion or a raise.

Tags: Company, Cracked, Doom, Emails, Notice, promotion, raise, title.

DD has developed powers of observation.  It used to be that I could sort through her toys and clothing and cart off anything too small or neglected - or I just plain didn’t like it.  She didn’t ever miss those items.

Now she is poking around in bags and saying, “Hey!  Maman!  Why is my dress in this bag?”

Because you have suddenly grown two inches and now that dress makes you look like a hooch.

And what about the drum?

It was getting on my nerves, for the last six months.  Surely there is a needy child who must have a drum.  We had a chat about needy children who need toys that are too aggravating for me to bear.

And I can no longer tell her the truth lest she repeat it.  Maman, why are these pants going away?  They are not too short.

Well, because they need to be worn by a shorter child with a bigger butt.  It is a law of fashion.  A butt is necessary to hold up jeans.

What she said:  I’m giving you my jeans because you have a bigger butt than I do.

Tags: bigger butt, dress, fashion, needy child, Notice, observation, Toys, truth.