August 2010

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You think Atlanta has traffic problems? There is a 9-day, 60 mile traffic jam going on in China right now. NINE DAYS. Being stuck in your car. Buying food and water from the locals who are price-gouging. And yet there have been no instances of road rage. Huh. Are they just nicer, more patient people than we are? Because I can assure you I would completely lose my shit before the first day was over.

I have so many questions. Like, where are these people peeing?? Are they having a big block party, or are they all sitting politely in their cars? And are they at least sleeping on their backseats? If not, are there chiropractors on hand? At what point do you just say, “Eff this!” and leave your car sitting on the interstate?

I couldn’t go that long without brushing my teeth or using deodorant. Can you imagine? I think I’d stab my leg or something so I’d have to be airlifted out. Or at least slice a tire and call AAA.

The jam is expected to last until September 17, when the road construction causing the bottleneck will be complete. I certainly hope for their sakes that the same people aren’t stuck for that long. I mean, take an exit already!

But seriously, what do these Chinese people have that makes them so much more tolerant than we are, and can we bottle it and bring it over here?

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Have you guys read Shit My Dad Says? It all started with this guy who moved home to his parents, and started twittering quotes from his dad. A month later, he was offered a book deal. The book was published in May and went to #1 on the NYT non-fiction hardcover list. CBS has a “Sh*t My Dad Says” sitcom starring William Shatner in its fall line-up. Here’s an example of what he tweets:

Stop trying so hard. He doesn’t like you. Jesus, don’t kiss an ass if it’s in the process of shitting on you.

Oh, I may have forgotten to mention his dad can be a bit grouchy and crass at times. But anyway, let’s get to my point (and I do have one, I promise). One of my girlfriends told me I need to start a website with the crack-up comments my family makes. It’s true that we are a band of pessimists, but now that I’ve stepped to the sunny side of the street (mostly), I can see the humor in some people finding the black cloud to every silver lining. For example, Little G started pre-K the other day and I sent a picture of her to nearly everyone in the Southeast. I received several comments, mostly in the “adorable” and “she looks just like you” categories. But the one I liked most was this:

That is a really good picture of G. Thanks for sending. Yes, a little sad. Her carefree life is behind her. Now comes 20 years of school which she will hate only to learn later that is was the best of times.

I can hear the soundtrack in my head womp womp WOOOOOOOMP.
Isn’t that great? I’ve got million of ‘em. Am I sitting on a gold mine or what? What should I call my best seller-to-be? Must get agent…

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If we were looking for one more reason to love Ryan Reynolds, I’ve found it. While shooting “The Green Lantern” in New Orleans, he took time out to learn about the oil spill and its effects on the Gulf Coast. (Much better than your average actor who uses his day off to snort blow off some chick’s ass, right?) Also, I am reliably informed that he has a sailor’s mouth but paid the kid on set each time he swore. Isn’t he a nice guy? Doesn’t he need to dump Scarlett Johannson for us??? If you want to see what Ryan-baby has to say about the environment, here’s the entire article onĀ The Huffington Post.

Seriously, is this guy perfect or what? (aside from that little tangle of being married, of course. And, I have to say that Scarlett looks like the vindictive type. That may complicate matters from you skanks wanting short-term relations – totally unlike myself, as I would only want a serious long-term relationship in which we golf and work out together and wear matching clothes and such.) Let’s look at what he has to say:


Love, love, love me some Ryan. And, oh yeah, the environment is pretty cool too.

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People have been telling me I’m a control freak for years, but I generally assume others don’t know what the hell they’re talking about and ignore their silly “constructive criticism.” But I’m now willing to admit they may have a point.
The other day, before going on a trip, Husband M made a list of the things he would need to pack. Now, let me stop right here and tell you what a miracle this is in and of itself. M is not a list-maker. Me, I’m crazy about lists – I have daily lists, weekly lists, and long-term lists. But, oh yeah, I’m supposed to be telling you what happened. Anyway, he had this list of items and I witnessed him crossing things off before he’d actually packed them.
“But I’m going to get them right now,” he told me, demonstrating what a list neophyte he is.
“No matter!” I snapped at him in what I hoped was a condescending tone. “You never, ever cross something off the list until it’s complete.”
And then I caught myself being the control freak. Here he was showing some real organizational progress, and all I was doing was trying to make sure he did it the right my way. So I apologized. And you know what? He forgot to pack his pillow, one of the items he’d crossed off the list early. HAHAHAHA Told ya.
So I might be a control freak after all. But I think we can all agree it’s in our household’s best interest that I remain that way. Priceless.

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Homeward Bound

I might die. I very well could, mind you, but I most likely won’t. Not today at least. I hope not. That would surely muck up things; I haven’t cleaned out my underwear drawer in ages, and that would just leave that job for someone else, some poor unsuspecting person unfamiliar with my “foundation garments”. But anyway.

I probably, most likely, won’t die today. So there’s that. Husband M and Daughter G left me again for another mini-trip- I know, this is twice in two weeks – so I’ve been alone and thus doing some serious thinking. And here’s the thing: somewhere along the line, these two people who control my life at every turn, frazzle me till my nerves are aflame, leave their shoes all over the damn place, well, somewhere they became my life. And, not that I’m not happy with me just being me, I am. But these people need to come home. To sleep in my bed. To breathe their sweet breath into mine, curl their sweaty limbs into mine. I need these people. Yes, the little one and the big grumpy one. Godspeed.

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