Second day in France

On the metro,

Crazy man yelling in French, "There's no difference between love and charity!" "There's no difference between the verb Protestant and the noun catholic!" "There's no difference between man and government!"

John, in French, "there's no difference between a man who drinks and a man who smells!"

First day in France.

So we're having lunch at this little restaurant (I'd like to say it was a quaint little French cafe but it wasn't. It's was a pizza joint but we were tired and hungry and it was there.) and Sam needed to use the bathroom.  He walked inside the restaurant and asked the waitress where it was.  She answered in French but with universal hand signals so he was fine.

Me, "did you find it?"
Sam, "yeah, I went downstairs and found the door marked 'Homies'"
John, "that's Hommes, it means 'men'"
Sam, <shrug> "eh"

The Emergency Broadcast System in Action

So yesterday after lunch, I was reading and Sam was about to start playing Mario Kart when the Emergency Broadcast System's warning went off on the t.v.

Sam, "What is that??"
Me, "It's the Emergency Broadcast System.  It says it's a test, right?"
Sam, "No."
Me, "What does it say?"
Sam, "I don't know."
Me, "Awesome, let me get up and walk in there to read it to you, the soon-to-be 6th grader."  (I didn't say that but I did get up and walk into the other room)
Me, "Oh! It's for real."

Turns out there was a gas leak up north and they were evacuating parts of the town of Alamo.  The leak was about a mile from Tom's camp and that's the area that was being evacuated.  Oh. Shit.  I called the camp. There was no answer but I left a message.  Then, armed with minimal information,  Sam and I jumped in the car and started driving towards the evacuation zone.  This is in fact the first thing that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) will tell you to do in the event of an emergency; get in your car and drive into the middle of the mess and bring along another child if at all possible.  Don't head away from the disaster site as the governmental announcements are advising. Also don't wait to hear back from the camp regarding emergency pick-up information.  No no no, that would be just silly.

As we were backing out of the garage, my friend Tina called.
Tina, "Are you evacuating?"
Me, "No, I'm heading up to Alamo. Tom's camp is up there and I can't get a hold of anyone."
Tina, "Well, if you check the website, our houses are in the evacuation zone."
Me, "Really? That's weird cause I know where the leak is, in fact we drove right past it this morning.  I'l let you know if I find anything out when I get up there."

I added that last part because I was sure that as officials were welcoming people into the evacuation zone there would be some type of press release being handed out as well probably over by the beer garden.  And I couldn't think of anywhere to evacuate to,  except John's office, primarily because they have vending machines.  See, I'm thinking ahead here.   (Turns out, in an effort to increase the general public's confusion, the evacuation zone was shown wrong on the website. This worked out spectacularly well.  Full marks for them.)

Then I called John, called Tina back, called John back and called my mom on both her home and cell numbers.  This is the second thing FEMA will tell you to do in the event of an emergency.  Tie up the phone lines with nonessential calls.  In fact, call 9-1-1 just for shits and grins.  They love that.

So Sam and I drove up to Alamo only to find that the freeway exits were blocked.  Something clearly  foreseeable to anyone in possession of higher brain functions.  I kept driving until I found an exit that was open then turned around and heading back through the epicenter directly behind a tanker truck hauling flammable liquids.  Bonus points for me.

Everything turned out fine.  It was swimming day at camp so there were already buses on site.  They simply loaded up the kids and had a slightly longer day at the pool than originally planned.

In my defense, I'd like to point out that at no point did I actually panic.  Instead I made a series of poor decisions in a very level-headed manner.  That's not the same thing.

Why California is Broke

I'm convinced it's all started with the four-way stop at the bottom on my hill and snowballed from there.

Before turning into my neighborhood, there are 13 signs (or words painted on the road) to let you know that you are approaching a 4-way stop.  14 if you count the little flashing lights separately but I don't cause I kinda see them as a set.  That's thirteen.  XIII

So, at some point in time there was a city council meeting that went something like this:

Councilman #1:  It has come to my attention that drivers are continuing to run the four way stop at the intersection of XXX and XXX.
Council body: <gasp>
(Oh, come on, you know some moron gasped.)
Councilman #2:  Decisive action must be taken!
Councilman #1: How many signs are currently posted?
Councilman #3: <rifling through papers> 12
Councilman #2:  A 13th sign is needed immediately!
Council body: <roar of approval>
Councilmen: Goddamn, we're fantastic leaders!
Lone woman in the back:  Really??
Council body: BOO! Get rid of that woman who doesn't appreciate our awesomeness!!

So if you take the cost of maintenance on that intersection alone, and times it by the gazillion intersections in the state, you get about $17 left to run everything else.  It's basic math.

I'm going to start a business making traffic signs, who's with me??

*On a similar note, there are 11 stop lights between my house and the gym which is 2.4 miles away. (and that isn't counting the four way stops)  If I hit 9 of them red, I turn around and go home.  That, my friends, is the universe telling you that it's a bad day to go to the gym!

Momma told me there'd be days like this...

Sam
"Good morning"  <Plooff>
Up for 3 1/2 minutes and already it's too much

Life's Great Mysteries #3

So I got to the gym this morning and there was a big news van parked in the lot.  Big newsie antenna on top, logos painted on every available surface, the whole bit.   I could only assume that  reporters were on the scene.  Hard questions were being asked and hard answers demanded.   And I thought, "Finally!  Finally, some in-depth news coverage on why these people can't manage to park between the white lines."  All over town people are parking squarely within the lines but as soon as they pull into this parking lot they lose all ability to park their fucking cars!  Why?

Why is parking a 5 1/2 foot wide car in a 8 foot wide space so difficult for your average gym-rat?  Is it the math?  Is there some type of dimensional rift causing the lines to shift and alter as a car is being pulled between them?   Is it some lesser known form of Roid-Rage where "you're not going to let some little white lines tell you where to park, god-damnit!"  Or are they light headed from their drop in endorphins since their last visit?  Are they all late for zumba?!?   Enquiring minds want to know!

Then I walked past the van and saw how it was parked.  Alas, the mystery continues....

I had big dreams...

I was going to drop the boys at camp, go to the gym, swing by the dry cleaners, go grocery shopping, get the dog's nails clipped and run the last few errands for our vacation next week.

What did I do?  Dropped the boys at camp, went home, laid on the couch and watched the Evil Dead.

<shrug> Eh, tomorrow's another day.....

My Year with the PTA. An Entirely True Memoir.

Jul - Got "Gavel" app for my phone.  Yeaaaa!!

Aug - Extremely disappointed that no one was heeding my gavel app in meetings  Boooo!

Sept - Public Speaking.  AKA I'd rather chew glass. Found out I had to talk to the entire parent population at Back to School night.  I found out 5 days before hand and entirely by accident.
Principal, "Oh, Jennifer, I'm talking to Amy about Back to School night. Do you want to sit in on this."
Me, "Well, not really but since I did such a stellar job of sneaking past you, I guess I'm kinda stuck."
(I didn't say that)
Principal, "So, I'll welcome everyone then Jennifer can talk."
Me, "Excuse me?"
Principal, "You'll need to talk about 5-10 minutes"
Me, "I'm sorry, I'll need to what?"
Principal, "You need to talk about PTA.  Didn't I talk to you about this?
Me, "NO, YOU DIDN'T TALK TO M..."
Amy, "Do you have any slides? I can put together a PowerPoint."
Me, "NO,  I DON'T HAVE ANY FUCKING SLIDES!"
And it all went downhill from there.

Oct -  Two words, Cake Walk.  Life just doesn't get any better than that.

Nov -   Parents' Holiday Luncheon with kids.  Huge turnout, prompting some to complain that they ran out of the parent's food too quickly.  "Really?  I thought it was something of a bonus to find all the moist turkey product and interesting yam-ish side dish gone when I went through the line.  Saved me the trouble of explaining why I was eating nothing but dinner rolls"

Dec -  Emails.  If I had a particularly frustrating or soul sucking email, I would just close the computer and walk away.  For a while John would get home from work, open up the computer and the first thing he'd see was the email.  And I'd hear things like "Who is this crazy lady?" or "What an asshole." coming from the other room.  Then I had a brainstorm.  I could have John check to see if I received any emails from the usual suspects and then I could mentally prepare myself before actually reading them.  Kind of an Early Warning System.
Me, "Will you see if I got a response from XXXX?"
John, "No way."
Me, "Come on. You don't have to read it just let me know if it's there."
John, "I can't look at anymore of your emails.  The negativity is so...I don't know.  I mean it's an elementary school. What happened to bake sales??"
Me, "Yeah, I know.  So will you check?"
John, "No way."
It's so hard to find good help.

Jan -  Volunteered to be Treasurer at the Middle School next year.  Several people said, "Oh, that's a lot of work!", "Oh, that's hard."  After the fourth or fifth person said this, I started getting concerned and said, "But, it's just a balancing a check book and comparing it to the budget.  It's arithmetic and a greater than/less than exercise. Right? <chuckle> <chuckle>"  Other Lady, "Well, my father died when I graduated from college so I've had access to my trust fund since then and I really don't do...that...stuff."  Me, <blink> <blink>  Honestly, how do you respond to that???

Feb -  Valentine's Day Party.  It was decided that pizza was not a "healthy meal option" so a potato bar was organized.  Yes, a potato bar.  Where you start with the only vegetable on earth with no nutritional value and pile it with butter, sour cream, cheese, bacon bits and chili.  "Why don't we just give them all a Big Mac and a defibrillator?"  "What??"

Mar -  Time to update the By-Laws.  "So, Mrs Council By-Laws Lady, why exactly does an elementary school need 27 pages of by-laws when we find most of our board members struggling in the bear traps we leave hidden around campus?  And why, if we're not allowed to revise the by-laws so members can attend meetings via conference call, are we allowed to revise the actual by-laws  via conference call?"  Making friends everywhere I go....

Apr -  Training for next year. (This actually happened in June but I already had something for June.)  Found out that throwing a pie in the Principal's face was deemed "too dangerous" and not covered by our insurance.  It was proposed by a local school.  District Insurance Lady said, oh, no no no, perhaps if it was a paper plate with just whipped cream but really it'd be better if you threw it at a picture of the principal.  Local school said, well, we'll do it and just not tell you.  District Lady drove 400 miles to make sure the principal was not pelted with any type of pastry product during the school's spring fair.  No one fucks with the district insurance lady.  No one.  And don't get her started on bouncy castles.

May -  Threw my back out and spent three weeks in a pain killer/muscle relaxer haze.  Best month of the school year.  Hands down.

Jun -  End of Term.  Principal, "Wait, you still have two weeks left."  Me, "Actually, I'm not allowed to make any decisions that will encumber the incoming board.  It's in the By-Laws.  I'll get you a copy."

Elvis has left the building.

**I swear to god I didn't make ANY of this up.  Especially the stuff from May.**

You know you're old when...

You walk into Victoria Secret and can't tell if something is a tube top or a skirt, and you can't read the label without your glasses.

<sigh>

Why I refuse to see the New Superman Movie

No, it's not because it's my third superman although that did kinda make me go "uh, again?"'.  It's because they took Lois Lane away from us! And you know what I'm talking about here.  It's been tugging at the back of your mind.  It's been buzzing in your ear.  They tried to sneak it past us but it will not go unnoticed! LOIS LANE IS A BRUNETTE!!

Lois Lane is not blonde.  She's not strawberry blonde.  She's not a honey blonde. She's not a maple blonde.  She's not light brown with highlights.   Lois Lane is a brunette!!!  A Dark Brown Brunette!!!  It's not that hard, people.

Let's sum up the brunettes from the last 100 years:
Evil queens
Wicked stepmothers
Nasty conniving bosses
Cruella DeVille, the puppy skinner
Lucy, the nasty little ball swiper
Sarah Palin
All the Kardasians
None of the Brady girls (oh no, we got Alice)
Janet never got any action
and Veronica was a rich bitch

Who did we have?  I'll tell you who.  We had Snow White, MaryAnn and WonderWoman.
And we had Lois Lane!
And we're not giving her up without a fight!!

Conversation with my Mom

Me, "Look at my blog! I figured out how to add pictures!"

Mom, "Really?"

Me, "Yeah, it's something your average 12 year old can do but I just figured it out so look!"

Mom, <typing> <typing> <typing> "Oh, now I remember why I stopped reading this.  You swear so much."

Me, "Well, that hasn't stopped you from calling me."

Mom, "That's because I love you.  What's this stuff at the bottom with the little pictures?"

Me, "Oh, those people have included me in their Google+ circles."

Mom, "What's that?"

Me, "I don't know but I think it's good."

Mom, "No, what does it do?"

Me, "Really, Mom, I don't know.  It's something with the internet.  It's like the Cloud.  We have it but we leave it alone so we don't break it."

Mom, "You've got three ladies down there."

Me, "I know! Hahahahaha! THREE!"

Mom, "Well, it's better than two."

Amen!

Another Great Mystery

Why is it that I'm not allowed to drive while using the map function on my phone, but the moron next to me can drive with a labradoodle on his lap???

Sometimes it's just a easier to go with it.

John: "So, what do you have planned for today?"

Me: "oh, nothing.  I just need to go to JoAnn's."

John: "What are you getting there?"

Me: "I need jingle bells."

John: "No"

Me: "Huh?"

John: "You do not need jingle bells. It's JULY"

Me: "They're not for Christmas. They're for cat toys"

John: "We don't own a  cat."

Me : "I know that.  They're for Haven"

John: "What's Haven?"

Me: "Who's Haven?"

John: "what?"

Me: "Haven, Deb's cat."

John: "You need to go to JoAnn's to get jingle bells to make cat toys for Deb's cat, Haven?"

Me: "Yeah"

Pause. Pause. Shrug.

John: "Okay, I'll drive."

Oh, He's a Funny One

So we're going camping today and I made a list for each of the boys of what they needed to pack.  They were watching cartoons so this was the tricky part.

Me: "Guys, I need you to pause the TV and listen to me"

Boys:  "uh huh uh huh uh huh"

Me:  "GUYS, pause the TV."

TV paused yet they're still staring at it

Me: "Guys, stop staring at the TV"

Me: <handing them the lists> "Here's what I need you guys to pack"

Me: "HEY"

They finally look at me

Me: "Here's what I need you to pack.  Use your school backpacks.  You'll need to empty them."

attention drifts

Me: "Guys!  I didn't write down 'unpack backpack'  Do I need to do this?"

nothing

Me: "Try not to just shove everything in. Maybe try to fold it."

losing them again as they randomly lay the lists around the room

Me:  "Don't lose the lists!"

Tom looked me square in the face, gave a little smirk,  and shoved the list down his pants.

Okay then.  My work here is done.

-----

(Considering they came home from the last day of school and threw their backpacks into the closet, I fully expect to arrive at the campsite with two backpacks filled with the contents of last year's classroom desks.)

(No, I didn't have them unpack the backpacks when they got home on the last day.  I was thrilled they threw them in the closet rather than leave them in the hallway.)

(Don't judge me)

Jennifer the Suburban Shaman

So John, the boys and I were watching The Treehouse Master or something like that.  Some woman in rural New York wanted a tree house.  Her house was falling down around her but she really needed an $80,000 tree house as a 'spiritual retreat'.  You know how it is...  But the tree the Master chose was not the tree she wanted and she was really concerned about it's 'energy' so she called Linda the Urban Shaman.  I'm not making this up.  Sam, "What's a shaman?"  Me, "It's someone who takes money from crazy people."  John, "Jennifer!"  Me, "Oh, sorry"

So Linda the Urban Shaman showed up.  Made a circle of rocks and sticks, banged a drum and shook some burning herbs around and cleansed the tree.  (And cashed a big check, I'm sure) Rich crazy lady was thrilled and the tree house was built.

And now I'm thinking......shit, I could do that.......there must be a need for a shaman around here.....a Suburban Shaman....there are certainly plenty of crazy rich ladies......I think I'm on to something here...

Does your house leave you with a feeling of sluggishness and failure?  That's not your fault!  Call Jennifer the Suburban Shaman!  I'll show up with a case of Chardonnay, some microwave popcorn and the When Harry Met Sally DVD.  As I leave I will subtly leave the number for my house cleaner on your coffee table.  Shhhh...  It's all gonna be okay...

Things in the bedroom not what they used to be?  Does he just not look at you with the same longing? Call Jennifer the Suburban Shaman!   I'll sprinkle barbecue Doritos around your bedroom.  Leave a bottle of tequila on the nightstand along with a bucket of wings and a some skanky red lingerie from Marshall's.  For an extra $5000, I'll take your kids for the night.  Let the lovin' begin.

Have your kid's grades been slipping?  Does he think school is 'a waste of time'? Call Jennifer the Suburban Shaman!   I'll wallpaper his room with brochures for the local military academy , smack him upside the head with a willow branch then lock him in his room until he gets his fucking Trig homework done.  If he starts bitching, I'll  pour you a huge premixed Jose Cuervo Margarita and make sure your ipod is charged.

Dinner a struggle?  Has it lost it's luster?  A family dinner is key to a healthy happy family!  Call Jennifer the Suburban Shaman!  I'll bring a Buffet God made of legos to grant you peace and serenity in your quest for dietary equilibrium.  I've also bring a dazzling array of take-out menus.  Repeat customers will receive the list of On-Line Ordering options.

Can't get your dog house trained?  Call Jennifer the Suburban Shaman!  Honestly, in this case, I'll just take the dog because you're obviously too stupid to own a dog.  Jesus Christ, it's a fucking dog!

Call the Suburban Shaman now!  Your future harmony depends on it!

Potty Mouth

The boys are still up at my Mom's house.  They're coming home tomorrow so I called to check on things and see if we were all set for the hand-off.  Everything is fine, having a great time, it went too fast, etc.

Then Mom says, "You know, they've picked up your swearing."

Oh.   Shit.

Me: "Really?" <pause> <panic> "Who said what?"

Mom: "Well, it was Tom, and he said 'Oh, God!'"

 <waiting> <waiting>

Me: "Oh, that's it??  I mean, yeah, I'll talk to him about that.  He should know better...."

Dodged.  A.  Bullet.