Halloween was ultra fun. We carved the pumpkin (yes, I am a total slacker and waited till the last minute) and then went and had pizza at Grant Central. After that, we walked around East Atlanta Village for the Eav-O-Ween celebration. All of the shop owners hand out candy to the local kids, and the people-watching is pretty fun. The kids were pretty cute, and I have to say that kids don't get hipper than those who trick or treat The Earl and The Flatiron. Nothing like seeing your little ones waltz right up to a bar for trick or treating. Definitely beats the toothbrushes we used to get from Dr. Grove, the dentist who lived down our suburban street growing up. After that, we came home and Todd traipsed the kids down the street, while I stayed back to drink beer, er. . . hand out candy. There is something so heartstring-tugging about seeing your husband walking down the street, holding hands with the costumed kids, their other hands gripping the pumpkins so tightly and with such purpose. I had a lovely time talking with the neighbors and then Todd and the kids returned, the kids dove into the candy, and we sat around talking some more, while handing out candy. Halloween in the hood is a little different than in the 'burbs. The first few years, you are kind of put out by the older kids trick-or-treating (as one neighbor put it, if you are out on a date, you are probably too old to trick or treat) and the lack of discernible costumes, but you start to realize that it's just the way that folks do things here, and you get into the spirit and go with the flow after a while. And I dare say that this year, it seemed like more people dressed up and that they were trying just a little bit harder. Todd hosed the children down from layers of stickiness and put them both down. About nine, we closed up shop (lights out, candles out), and Todd walked down the street to check out the Gay Superheroes. It seems that the money house (what I call the neighbor's house where everyone meets to party while handing out candy every year - a jackpot for the trick or treater) was doing a Superhero costume theme this year. I am sure they went all out and I should have sent the camera. Damn. I'm drinking beer, fucking around with the Halloween photos, and listening to my Creepy mix. Decemberists' Leslie Anne Levine is on right now. Awesome song. Awesome holiday.
I played trivia with my sister and Robin last night. Tres fun! We didn't dress up (Shit, i barely got my teeth brushed yesterday, much less take a shower and plan a costume!), but some people did and there were some funny costumes. The best one by far was the "Dick in a Box" guy. So funny.
I have been dying to go to trivia for weeks now, but haven't been able to get anyone to go. I fear that they are lying to me when they say they have other plans, and in actuality, they are just afeared of my ridiculously competitive nature. (Think Monica on Friends.) Apparently, Lisa and Robin ran out of excuses. I also think i lured Robbie in with the fact that the horror-themed trivia would include multiple Rocky Horror Picture Show questions. Yes, she is one of those people.
My competitiveness does not mean, of course, that I rule at trivia, just that i like to feel like i gave my best shot at each and every question. Last night? That so didn't happen. I even wore my Cramps Halloween shirt for good luck; We completely choked on some of the questions. We did not even place in the top three. It will not happen again.
Just kidding. Kinda.
I ran the questions by Todd when I got home, and it turns out that if Robin had made it on time (she missed the first round because of work) and Todd had gone with us, we would have done a lot better. Also if we didn't have Friday the 13th killer name debacle. (Sorry, Lisa!)
So, here are the questions. The ones that Robin, Lisa and I managed to pull out of our asses. And a few that are so Mickey Mouse that the question writers should be ashamed. And the ones that we didn't get are in bold. Do you know the answers? Googlers are cheaters, and cheaters never prosper. Kind of like those fuckers at the bar last night who were cheating. You know who you are, blond chick with the blue and white striped shirt. A curse on you, and the guy who gave you the answer, too.
What year was the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre released?
The Arthur Miller play based on the Salem Witch trials.
Total number of movies in the Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Nightmare on Elm St series, including the combination movie, and any remakes.
Birth name of the serial killer nicknamed "The Killer Clown."
What is the name of the pub in which Shaun and his friends holed up to escape Zombies in "Shaun of the Dead?" With Robin's help, we would have come up with this one!
In the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which two characters are brother and sister?
What was the name of the sequel to Rocky Horror Picture Show?
On South Park, what was mixed with Kenny's embalming fluid to cause him to become a zombie?
Name of the monster who prowls Mexico eating goats?
In Evil Dead, what is the name of the book of the Dead?
In the original Friday the 13th, who was the killer?
Evil Poets: Who wrote "The Raven?"
What are the three original Romero zombie films? (We only got two.)
What beer would you use to kill a werewolf?
What actors portrayed Marty Coleslaw and his uncle Red in Stephen King's Silver Bullet?
What were the vampire-killing brothers, one of whom was played by Corey Feldman, referred to as in The Lost Boys?
What musician is credited with popularizing the "devil horns" rock n roll gesture?
What 1922 film was the debut of the vampire on the big screen?
Classic Arcade Games: What are the names of the four ghosts in the American version of the game PacMan? (We only got three.)
The name of the English punk band whose ever-changing members included members named "Rat Scabies," "Captain Sensible," and "Urbana?" This one drove Robin and I crazy, because it was on the tip of our tongues.
Ancient Celtic festival/ritual credited with being the original Halloween?
What does Mexico's Dia de los Muertos (sp?) mean?
Number of bones in the male body? Bonus for naming the state in which this number is an area code.
What is the only mammal naturally capable of flight?
Final Question: Name the actors who played each of the following in The Rocky Horror Picture Show -
Worst Day in a Long Time Becomes One of Best Days of Year for Beleaguered Mom, Gator Haters Everywhere
An Atlanta mother of two, sick, and caring for her children and grandfather for the weekend, was pleasantly surprised when her self-described "Worst day ever" became fucking awesome as the Georgia Bulldogs unexpectedly defeated the Florida Gators in Jacksonville this afternoon.
Says Dogwood Girl: "Hell, yeah! Diarrhea be damned, I'm having another beer!"
Hell is the wonderful municipality of Warner Robins, GA, a town built up around an air force base. It is full of concrete and really ugly buildings. My father said he would never come back here after he finished high school and moved back to Savannah, where he was born. He is back, because no one counted on my grandfather making it to 92 years old, and Pop still lives here. So, now, mom and dad do too. My sister and I are in complete agreement that once Pop dies and Mom and Dad get out of this hell hole, we will never come back again. EVER.
We are watching Pop this weekend while Mom and Dad get away for a couple of days. So far, today:
5 a.m. I wake up to hear Rollie and Pop talking on the baby monitor. Pop has gotten up to go to the bathroom, which we were under the impression he can no longer do on his own. Evidently, he can, and the walker woke up Rollie, who thought it was Lisa and yelled out, "Lisa!" which promptly woke both Lisa and Tiller. I run upstairs, wondering what the hell is going on. Everyone is awake. Pop is sitting on the toilet with the door open (awesome) and Tiller is crying out and Lisa is asking me what I am doing upstairs. We get everyone calmed back down, with admonitions to Rollie that he shouldn't get out of bed until the sun comes up.
5:15 a.m. I am back downstairs in bed with the dog. My stomach hurts like shit. I am trying to go back to sleep. I realize that my stomach hurts because it is upset and then I spend the next 3 hours in and out of the bathroom. I never fall back asleep.
8 a.m. Everyone is up and clamoring for breakfast and the dogs need to go outside and i feel like crap. I slap raisin bran on the table for the kids, while Lisa takes the dogs out, because I just can't risk being that far away from the bathroom.
8:15 a.m. Pop calls and wants someone to get his breakfast and his insulin shot for him. He gets the shots at every meal and before bedtime. Lisa takes pity on me and takes both kids and her Jack Russell Terror, Emily, with her. I lay on the bed with Quint and try to enjoy quiet despite cramping stomach.
8:20 a.m. My mom calls. So much for my stolen moments without children. She wants to know what Lisa wanted. I don't know, but will have Lisa call her.
8:30 a.m. Lisa yelling, "No, Emily! No! No!" Lisa is saying over baby monitor.
8:40 a.m. Everyone comes back downstairs, except Pop, who never leaves his Lazy Boy. Lisa freaking out. Emily ate rat poison. After determining that children never came in contact with rat poison, I google "Dog ate rat poison."
8:50 a.m. Lisa and Emily get in car to go to vet, where she will be given something to make her puke up the poison, and a shot of something to counteract the effects of the poison.
8:55 a.m. I venture out to the carport so that Rollie can ride his bike and Tiller can play with sharp and poisonous stuff, of which there is a ton, because my grandfather has not thrown out a single item since about 1935. Quint gets his leash caught up in the porch furniture he is tied to while I chug Pepto Bismol. Tiller runs around at breakneck speed with a stick and then falls and skins both knees, just as Rollie barrels down the slope of the driveway, narrowly missing my Grandma's c. 1980s Cadillac with 19,000 miles on it. Yes, Grandma has been dead for five years, but why get rid of a perfectly good Caddy only driven to the Beauty Shop on Thursdays and church on Sundays? Swerving to miss Caddy, Rollie's bike flies out from under him and he lands smack dab on his ass, then gets up wailing. He climbs up into my lap for consolation, as I juggle Pepto and a dog leash, and Tiller then comes over to give him a hug, too, which was sweet, but only makes him shriek in my ear.
That's just a taste of a few moments in the alternate reality that is my Grandfather's house. Things have gotten better since about ten. Emily is going to make it, and the medicine might even make her sleep for the afternoon. Lisa took Tiller and Rollie to the store to get stuff for dinner and to give me a break from them. Both dogs are sleeping. Pop doesn't need lunch and a shot until 1:30. Lunch for him is easy, because he eats the same lunch every day: 1 pimento cheese sandwich, one small can of baked beans, and one can of Vienna sausages, all cold and out of the can. Puke-O-Rama.
Certainly things will continue on this upward trend until 3:30, when Cocktail party kicks off, at which point Bulldogs will disappoint me, and I will hopefully be over my stomach deal, so I can drink my sorrows away with a few Saturday afternoon beers.
Hope everyone else is having an awesome Saturday. With less poison, poop, barking, and did I mention the pooping? than we are experiencing here.
Rollie: "Mama, if I see a dragon, you will give me a knight, and I will knife the dragon." Me: "Um, okay, if we see a dragon, I will let you have a knife and slay him. But you realize that we don't play with knives, ever, without Mama's permission?" Rollie: "But, we do if there is a dragon." Me: "Well, yeah, obviously. Also? A 'Knight' is the guy who wears the armor, and who holds a sword or a lance, or throws down the gauntlet, okay? 'Knight' just sounds like "knife." And you use a sword to slay the dragon, not a knife." Rollie: "Right," he says, nodding his head vigorously in the affirmative.
Okay, seriously, though. I am so NOT a passive person. I think it came up that way when I said I liked to seek revenge "when I get around to it." Whatevers.
I think I’m going to preemptively turn in my girls’ club membership, because after people read this, it will probably be revoked.
Todd is out of town. He went camping. In Perote. Yes, that is a real place. Pronounced “Pee-Rote.” It is somewhere in the wilds of Alabama. Okay, peeps, here’s the deal. I had tivoed Gossip Girl, America’s Next Top Model, and numerous The Hills and Real World episodes.
Maybe this is Freaky Friday – Todd goes to the middle of nowhere, no electricity or power, where he will not see football all day long. I watch football all day long. Color me Jamie Lee Curtis. Todd is Lindsay, of course.
I just spent the day between about 2:30 and now (11:13) watching football. I did nap for thirty minutes around 3pm. But other than that, I watched football. That is not unusual for me, as Todd and I often spend Fall Saturdays watching football. But tonight, you would think I would be doing the bottle of wine, husband out of town, guilty pleasure Tivo thing. Nope.
Football. I Could. Not. Turn. It. off.
LSU Kentucky. No, wait. KENTUCKY/LSU. Fucking awesome. I had Tiller and Rollie in their pjs yelling “Go Wildcats!” and “Big D!” on that last LSU possession. I even chose to watch those three overtimes over the Bulldogs game. Unheard of, but I really like Kentucky. I think they are a classy act, and I LOVE an underdog and an upset. And I kind of think LSU fans are pompous fuckwads this year, too, for the most part; Heberts and Lambremonts excused. I like to watch an LSU Tiger looking all stunned in the face paint. Good stuff.
Dawgs. God’almighty, they just about broke my heart last week, but they pulled this one out. Knowshon looked stellar in that last quarter. Me likey. I kind of want to make out with Richt when he does stuff like yell at the boys for celebrating too much on the field, and I though him apologizing to Vandy before the media or the fans could even start bitching about it was just another example of what a class act he is. So proud of him as coach. And, hey, if they're gonna have an off season, a rebuilder, or what have you, this is as good a season as any, because the upset factor is keeping me pretty entertained.
Speaking of, Cal. Ha! Little freshman QB was doing okay, but he really choked there on that last play. The annoying part of this whole thing is that fucking Ohio State will move into the number one slot, and I hate them solely on my knowledge of one single Ohio State fan acquaintance. Buckeye Boy is more of a fuckwad than the whole LSU fandom united. Props to T’s Auburn boys for pulling out a tough one against Arkansas, too.
The really sad part is that even when I did watch some of my Tivo stuff, I watched Friday Night Lights. Nope, not kidding.
All in all, good football Saturday. Would’ve been better with a little company.
Oh, wait. . . I gots me a bottle of wine. Which just might secure retainment of my membership card, because I bet I’m the only football fan in Georgia that watched that much ball today while drinking red wine, rather than bourbon or beer. Maybe I'll start the Bulldog Wine Club.
One last football footnote: (God, that’s cute. “Football footnote.”) Must convince Nessie to go see Band of Horses with me tomorrow. Ben Bridwell likes him some Dawgball.
I'm post-dating this. Totally forgot to publish it on Saturday. Wish I had made BOH, but just wasn't feeling like braving a 99X crowd.
It has taken me almost an entire week to digest the loss to Tennessee. I still can't really believe it and remember it almost as if it were a very bad dream, a night terror.
I just couldn't bring myself to comment on it at all. I will say that my mother was a very humble loser and did not lord it over us on Sunday the way I thought she would. I think the spanking was so bad that she actually pitied us.
I am not even really looking forward to tomorrow. The Vandy game is completely losable. I don't know if my weak stomach can take anymore.
I met my sister at the dog park yesterday morning. We spent over an hour together. Afterwards, having just said goodbye to each other in the parking lot at Piedmont Park, I picked up the cel phone to call my sister as I pulled out of the lot. I had forgotten to mention something very important to her.
Her: Hey. What is it? Me: I haven't talked to you in a while, and I missed you. Her: We should talk more often. Me: I know. So, did you see that mutant mutt dog? I mean, I am a dog lover, but that was the ugliest thing I have ever seen. Her: I thought he was cute! Like a Bassett raped by a pit bull. Me: Seriously, that dog looked ridiculous. Her: He can't help it that he looks that way. Me: I know. I would take his ugly brindle ass home anyway. Her: Me too. Me: Okay, bye. Her: Bye. Oh, wait! Are you coming over? Me: Yeah, I'll meet you at your house.
So, it has been mentioned before that we are very close to one another. My friend Harris might have used the words, "Freakishly close" to describe our relationship. I don't give a shit. Everything in my life is better when shared with my sister. Even unfortunate mutt rape victims. I couldn't not call her and talk about it. Does an ugly mutt at the dog park exist if I don't call my sister? Yes. But it's way more fun if i call her about it.
Dear Tiller, Today you turned two. We celebrated your party on Sunday. It was a Hello Kitty themed party. Aunt Lisa and Papaw Palmer couldn’t make it, but your Grandma Palmer was there, and also your Johnson Grandparents. Uncle Mark showed up, even though Aunt Lisa didn’t make it – I think he is either in love with you, or cupcakes. Maybe both. Other attendees were Mama and Dada, Rollie, Ned, Vanessa, and Scarlett. We had chocolate cupcakes, and some with colored icing, but everyone wanted chocolate. We ate pizza for lunch, and you received way too many gifts. You received a stroller, baby bed, and infant carrier, a couple of baby dolls, two cel phones (just what a little girl needs), a stuffed dog on a leash, a vacuum cleaner that really vacuums, a tea party set, a doll case, and a ton of clothes. You are a very lucky girl to have so many friends and so many people who love you.
I remember when Rollie was two, and you were about to be born. It seems like just yesterday, and now he is four and you are two, and I am really, really a mother. You have learned so many amazing things in the last year. You learned to walk a little after you turned one. Now you are running and hopping. Of course, you don’t actually leave the ground yet, but you say "I am hopping!" and do a lot of bending at the knees. You like to do whatever Diego and Dora are doing – All the actions: Climbing, swimming, rowing, hopping, swinging, climbing. Thanks to Dora and Diego, you intersperse your English with Spanish words. Sometimes I have to act out actions to figure out what you are saying to me.
Your talking is just amazing – what a vocabulary! You string so many words together in run on sentences and your dada and I just look at each other, wondering what it is you are saying, because we just don’t understand all of it. That doesn’t matter to you, though. You just keep on talking, and are so expressive when you do it, nodding your head convincingly, or holding your hands palm up when asking a question of us. You repeat everything that we say, and think that Rollie’s word is God. If Rollie says or does it, you want to say or do the same thing.
You are starting to show a bit of stubbornness. When we say “time to change your diaper,” or “Let’s put on pjs” your first reaction is to take off running. We spend a lot of time chasing you down. You love the water and will pour water over your own head when in the bath and then laugh and laugh. You are the laughingest goofball of a child I have ever known. Your sense of humor is corny and quick. You love to sing in goofy voices and then laugh at yourself. Did I mention the dancing? You love music and singing and love to dance. Your dances are a sight to behold, too – You do one where you move your arms around. I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but will have to show you the video someday. Your favorite songs are “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,“ “The Wheels on the Bus,” “You Are My Sunshine,” and “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.”
You love animals and babies. You crack us up, because when you talk about the other kids in your Mommies’ Morning Out class, you call them “babies,” but you think you are a big girl, even though you are all the same age. You started the MMO this fall, and I was worried you would miss me, but you love the class, and the other kids (Kai, Claire, and Abby) and your teachers, Miss Betsy, and Miss Janet. You cry on the days when Rollie has class, but you don’t.
You are kind of a bruiser. Sometimes I am in another room, and I hear Rollie screaming bloody murder and I walk in, and you have him in a headlock, or you are lying on top of him and won’t get off. I am hoping you will turn out to be a gentle soul, but it is nice to know that you stand up for yourself, too.
You love swimming. I am amazed at how much you love the water. You laugh and laugh in pools, and you love the kiddie pool at the lake. When we take you in the lake, you lie back as if you could just float on your back, all by yourself.
When we go to the park, you like to swing, swing, swing. You are not scared to climb or slide, but swinging is where it’s at for you. I have pushed you on a swing for almost an hour at a time before. You cry when I make you get out of the swing.
In the mornings, you scream and cry, “Mama” or “Daddy, come get me.” “Mama, Help!” You sound pitiful and sick, but as soon as we walk in, you start chirping away in your excited, sweet morning voice, asking "Where's Dada?" or "Where's Rollie?" You start talking in a waterfall of words and if other people in the house are still sleeping, I try to shush you, and you just won’t quiet down. It is endearingly annoying. When you wake up from your nap, you are the same way, except crankier, just like your Mama and Aunt Lisa, and Grandma Palmer. I carry you down the stairs, you crying the whole way, and when we get to the bottom, I ask if you want a snack, and you turn the tears off immediately, a smile breaks across your face, and you say, “Sack” while nodding your head at me.
Let’s see. What else:
You sleep well at night, usually going to bed between 7:30 and 8, but you aren’t a great napper. Most of your naps are 35 to 45 minutes long. I am thankful when you give me a whole hour. You never let me fix your hair, which I guess is part of the curse. I never liked having mine fixed either. You love eating. I have been lucky that both kids have healthy appetites. I try to feed you healthy stuff, and you do a pretty good job with it. You do love gold fish. You call them, “Olefish.” So cute. You are starting to love to read, and we read to you every night, but you also will grab a book and sit down with it, turning the pages and pretending to read.
Since your birthday party, you have been walking around saying, “I’m a baby!” and then “I’m a big girl!” You may be growing up to be a big girl, a young lady, but you will always be my little baby girl, even when you are fifty. I am so lucky to have you for a daughter. I knew that being a parent was special, but I never knew how amazing it would be to have a boy and a girl. Mom always said that there was something so very wonderful about having a daughter, and now I understand what she meant. You are sweet and mercurial, tough and sensitive, beautiful and ornery, girly and tomboyish, smart and silly, all wrapped up in the cutest, roly-poliest package I have ever seen. You are a little like your father, and a lot like me, and better than both of us put together. I have learned so very much from you and Rollie. Having a little girl, though, is a slightly more daunting task for me. I know that I am your foremost role model, the woman from whom you will learn so very much in your life. You bring out so many things in me that I didn’t know I had inside. You make me a better person. You make me want to be someone you can look up to, someone you can learn valuable life lessons from, and someone you can respect. I hope that I do as wonderful a job as my Mom did. I hope that I set an example for you that will make you as proud of me as I am of you.
Happy Birthday, Baby Tiller.
With love, Mama
Thanks to Uncle Mark for the cute Tiller with Stroller vid.
Most of the time i feel like Dogwood Girl is a great outlet for me, a healthy exercise in purging my sick mind and all that. But lately? It is just another damn thing that I am not getting done. Who needs something else to make them feel guilty? I am not going to let it get me down. I will post when I can post.
But some things require taking the time. Like when one of your bestest friends, the one that introduced you to your husband, which resulted in your life becoming boring and parental, and yet you still love her, is getting married and you spend the weekend with the girls, acting trashy and pretending that you don't have children or husbands. Much fun.
In case you haven't visited the town, Helen is totally kooky, touristy, and a total fucking riot. Here's a town where everyone drank the Kool Aid and decided to make their little town a theme park. With beer river tubing and taffy and Ye Olde Fudge.
We spent the weekend in a cabin, with a pool table, a panoramic view of Mt. Yonah, a hot tub, rocking chairs, four couches, and three tvs. Anyone who knows me can tell you that if you put me up with a pool table, a stocked bar, an IPod, and a hot tub, I might never leave. I watched Auburn beat out those detestable Gators while pounding beers, playing pool, and hot tubbing. It was awesome. We are even mature enough that we could afford a place where everyone had a bed. I shared a King with my little sis and I barely knew she was there.
This was the first Bachelorette party I have been to, i realized later, at which only the Bride-to-be was a Bachelorette. The rest of us were all Matrons. That is a little disturbing. Didn't get in the way of the shenanigans, though. And as Lisa and I informed the others, we are still way cute when we drink. You can see evidence of this in the following picture, as Leelee exudes cuteness:
High points, other than aforementioned view and hot tub, were the excellent meals, and the company. Great group of girls. Okay, it's a tossup - Girls vs. very frightening, nightmare-inducing Deer Anus Cyclops Head. It could go either way.
More pics: Keri, Robbie, and Nessie:
Robbie solo, and with her very cool future Sis-in-law, Katie:
Et moi, basking in the heat of the tub and two beautiful field goals against the Fucking Florida Gators (Yes, this Bulldog hates them just. that. much.) And to top off a great weekend, on the way home, i met a couple of bikers on Harleys at the gas station. One of them asked me to go for a ride with him. He was cute in a pushing-50s, Marlboro-Man-gravelly-voice kind of way. I was tempted. It was a great day.
"I need to get back to Atlanta," I said.
"I live in Atlanta," he replied with a devilish grin. "I'll take you home."
"I can't. I gotta get back to the husband and kids."
"Ma'am, I'm so sorry. I didn't see your ring. I didn't know you were married."
"That's okay," I said. "You made my day!"
And it did. We're still cute, girls, even when we're not drinking. And chivalry is not dead. At least not in the hills of North Georgia.
Halloween was ultra fun. We carved the pumpkin (yes, I am a total slacker and waited till the last minute) and then went and had pizza at Grant Central. After that, we walked around East Atlanta Village for the Eav-O-Ween celebration.
Todd hosed the children down from layers of stickiness and put them both down. About nine, we closed up shop (lights out, candles out), and Todd walked down the street to check out the Gay Superheroes. It seems that the money house (what I call the neighbor's house where everyone meets to party while handing out candy every year - a jackpot for the trick or treater) was doing a Superhero costume theme this year. I am sure they went all out and I should have sent the camera. Damn.
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