Rants of Ice and Fire: Oh, HELL No

Hey Sorsha, remember when I recommended that podcast to you, Podcast of Ice and Fire? Yeah, well, I'm rescinding my recommendation. I enjoyed the first episode and part of the second one I listened to (I texted you a quote) but immediately after that, one of the women on the 'cast treated the listeners to a lecture about Catelyn Stark and how she's not a strong character because she's a wife and mother.

...No, really. That was it. I'm on record as not being a huge Catelyn fan. Mostly because I find her boring and think she was a bitch to Jon Snow, whom I adore. (Though I can sort of understand her reasoning. Well. As much as I can understand why anyone would be mean to a little kid, even if he IS your husband's illegitimate kid of TOP SECRET maternity.) But I certainly don't think she's weak. And I think she left "traditional" femininity behind when she hopped on her horse to go rally the Tullys and gather evidence against the Lannisters for booting her son out the window. And then arresting Tyrion. And the way she handled the arrest was pretty fucking masterful. And she seems extra tough when you compare her to her miserable sister. Ugh.

Yeah, she raised five kids. Hell, six, if you count Jon Snow. (Are we to think she completely ignored him? I'm unclear on this. I guess it doesn't matter much.) She was a dutiful and loving wife to Ned and mistress of Winterfell. None of these things make her weak. Motherhood's a fucking tough job, I'm pretty sure. Especially when you don't have things like, you know, epidurals, antibiotics, diapers, pacifiers and soap. And unlike that gorgon Cersei (To whom she was being compared unfavorably), she doesn't: 1. Fuck her brother 2. Murder her husband 3. Have any Damien-Omen kids.

I'm mostly just really offended by the notion that if you don't try to act like a man, you're weak. Like I said in my ridiculously impassioned defense of Sansa: not everyone can be Arya or Dany. If you put a sword in my hand, I'd probably be all, "Um. This is heavy. I'm just gonna put this down over here before I drop it on my foot" and then I'd go read a book. Or knit something. Or bake something. In fact, I'm looking up brownie recipes as we speak. ...Type. And I'd (GASP!) like to get married and have babies someday. !!!!!!!!! Whatever. I GUESS I'M JUST TOO WEAK/BORING/USELESS TO LIVE.

So, back to the podcast...I'll be unsubscribing. Which sucks because I loved being able to listen to something Westeros-related at work. It's the NEXT BEST THING to reading the novels. But I don't need that kind of misogynistic bullshit.

AND NO BROWNIES FOR YOU, PODCAST OF ICE AND FIRE.

ETA: Oh, there was other stuff, too. This was just the bit I was ranty about.

In Which Bea and Homer Adopt Some Emo Kids and Everyone Rocks Out

So, how was your day yesterday? Good? Oh, that's nice. Mine? Oh, nothing special...I JUST WENT TO SEE MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. NO BIG DEAL OR ANYTHING. Ahem. Sorry.

It was a GREAT show! We stood in a HUGE line with tons of black-eye-makeup-and -homemade-t-shirt-wearing teenagers and their parents. Heh. I talked to Mame on the phone and we called each other names for awhile, which is par for the course, really. (She's a total bitch. SHE KNOWS WHY.) Then we went into the venue! I got a t-shirt! Sadly, I did not get the "Mikey Fuckin Way" one, which I did kind of want because, dude, that's hilarious. But where would I wear it? Well, I COULD sleep in it and wear it to drive my grandmother crazy. Oh well. Maybe next time.

Then the show started! The opening band, Drive By, was really good. It's guitar-heavy alternative rock, sort of like Switchfoot or Lifehouse. Maybe a little heavier. Good stuff, not as punky or dramatic as My Chemical Romance. They were sort of amusing in that the lead singer announced their name between every song and felt the need to assure the audience that MCR was COMING UP NEXT. I PROMISE, OK? Maybe he was getting threats from the skinny kids in the front row, I don't know. But it made me giggle.

THEN. The lights go down and a band comes out, wearing creepy masks. Ugh. I HATE creepy masks. I nearly went into hysterics watching the preview for The Strangers. Luckily, the band whips them off and throws them into the crowd. Um. Ok, I may not be an expert, but I'm pretty sure that is NOT My Chemical Romance. I spend the first three songs in utter confusion, until I turn to ask the girl behind me who is SINGING THE LYRICS who the HELL is on the stage. She looks at me in surprise, "Oh, It's Taking Back Sunday!" Oh. Ok. That's great, an extra performance! A surprise! Awesome! Except. I um, really don't like Taking Back Sunday. Sorry! They gave a good show and were clearly having a great time and it was a really cool thing but, yeah.

FINALLY, My Chemical Romance come out onstage and the crowd. Goes. Insane. Heh. I was expecting this of course, but seeing it was something else. (Also, I had a really good view. I'm a lousy judge of distances, but I could see facial expressions!) You guys? It's like they had a MEETING to discuss How Best to Provide a Good Concert Experience for Bea. They played all my favorite songs! Gerard, the lead singer, was hilarious and insane. And MAN, does he swear a lot. Heh. They are totally hot in person! You know, from 100 feet away. There were shout-outs to New Jersey!

The opening song? "Give 'Em Hell, Kid." I really like that song! I have a thing about the opening song for concerts. It sets the whole tone of the show! I always try to guess it and I'm almost always wrong. (Hey Lilith, remember when we took bets on the opening song for that Tori Amos concert we went to? You guessed "Jackie's Strength and I guessed "Spark" and she BLEW OUR MINDS with "Precious Things?" AWESOME. God, I am such a dork. I really love concerts!) They were just awesome! They played "My Way Home Is Through You," which is a b-side that I've never heard all the way through! They played "Famous Last Words" and "Thank You For The Venom," which are my very favorites! They played "Teenagers," which Homer likes! They finished with "Helena!"

There were three teenagers in front of me who were HILARIOUS. They sang and danced and jumped, threw pointy little elbows (one of which hit me in the chest) and ACTED OUT THE VIDEOS. I thought they were going to pass out at one point! Overall, the crowd was really fun and everyone seemed to have a great time. (Except for you, tall music snob guys who wedged yourselves in front of me. Fuck you.)

So, this morning, I'm a little scratchy. I can't get all of this eyeliner off. I have unexplained bruises and my back is reminding me that I am not 16 years old and would like a little advance notice for the next time I am going to spend five hours dancing, thrashing and bouncing.

I would go see them again in a heartbeat.

P.S. JOSIE! I wish you could have come with me! I MISS YOU.

P.S.2 Mame. Oh, my dear Mame. THESE CHOCOLATE PRETZELS ARE DELICIOUS. No matter how you try to fuck up my shit, I STILL WIN. Because of the pretzels. Bwa ha ha ha.

Heath Ledger, Superbad, the Presidential Race, and why I should never be allowed to have a weekend to myself again...

Well it has been quite awhile since I updated my thoughts on goings on of the world, and I have decided that whilst my students take the easiest exam I have ever given in my life - this would be the perfect time to.

1. Heath Ledger has died, and while is saddens me that a little girl will grow up without a father, I am not so celebrity-crazy that I can't see the insanity of how his death was covered by the media. While the information about suicide bombings in Iraq were scrolling across the bottom of the screen, the anchors of CNN were busy discussing Mary Kate Olsen's involvement and how his death will affect the box office of his newest Batman movie. As Beau will tell you, I am a celebrity blog reader (I heart Perez) and watcher of shows like "The Soup" and "Best Week Ever;" however, I am offended that the state of our troops, the presidential race, and things of the like played second fiddle while we all waited with bated breath for Heath's body to be taken out of his Manhattan apartment. I was especially happy that my dear Perez made a point to not use any pictures on his site that were taken of the family during their grief, the body taken into the hospital, or scenes from outside the funeral home. I am aghast to say that not all "Entertainment Networks" had such standards (I'm looking at you Fox News).
   
2. I finally got to see the movie Superbad. I know, I know this movie is old news, but I have a two year old and I don't get to see movies in the theaters anymore. I love this movie. For those who don't know, Seth Rogan (of 40 Year-old Virgin and Knocked Up fame) wrote this movie with his best friend, Evan Goldberg, about their lives as enmeshed eighteen-year olds who can't imagine a life without the other, but will soon have to as they are going their separate ways to college. How much can I relate to this movie? Bea, tell 'em. This movie might as well have been called "Two Jersey Girls" ya'll. Every aspect of this movie could have been Bea and I ten years ago. Was it an Oscar worthy movie, no. The editing could have been a little smoother, and there was some down time that could have been chopped entirely, but I loved it nonetheless.
   
3. Glow Bug went away to his Nana and Grandad's this weekend with Agnes. You would have thought he was going to a chocolate version of Disney World for how excited he was. You haven't seen excitement until you've seen a two year old try to pack for a trip to his beloved grandparents' house. I, on the other hand, packed like he was going to Dachau - I cried the entire time barely slinging the essentials into his little suitcase. I cried when he left and almost missed my therapy appointment (you'd think after the same time every week for the last two years, I would remember), and then cried there too. I cried in the shower, I cried to Beau, I had a restful weekend ahead of me, but instead I missed my little guy. All is well now, though, he is home and I got to snuggle with him before he went to bed and when he got up this morning.

Well, I'm off to peruse my students and make sure they aren't cheating. In the meantime check out www.skybus.com and their ridiculously low fares to come and see me!

Week Two: Or how I haven't managed to eat my feelings all week...

I weighed in today (it's been two weeks) and I haven't lost anything. I guess it's a good thing I haven't gained since Joan (my mother) was in all week and I'm PMSing. When people stay at my hut I can't do my exercises because the guest room also serves as my workout space, scrapbook nook, and entrance to the attic; hence why my home is referred to as the hut rather than the house. Also, in an effort to thwart Joan and my having any "down time" wherein classic Crawford-esque fights occur, we spent a lot of time baking. I got some adorable pics of Joan and Glow Bug licking the beaters from chocolate chip cookies and sneaking tastes of banana-walnut-chocolate chip bread. The fact that I didn't manage to gain about twenty pounds from this visit alone, is a miracle.
As for the PMS thing. I usually don't like to talk about such things, but I'm learning. I must digress here and tell you about this: I work with this amazing teacher "Vivi" who has learned to love herself and everything around her now that she is in her sixties. She is becoming like an icon to me; she keeps telling me to not wait to love my life and myself like she did. She's so supportive of everyone and everything that just being around her makes anyone happy. She says that her secret is to love herself more than anyone else. I guess I'm starting to learn because I realized through her that I deserve to treat my body better than I have been and to shed some pounds. OK, back to my original story: the PMS thing.
I get these migraines, really fucking bad ones. I also get headaches, usually about one every other day. I take a lot of ibuprofen and kind of live with it. I'm getting surgery in December to correct a lot of the problems that cause the headaches, but that is another story. Anyway in an effort to end the big migraines I was on Birth Control for awhile the kind that you take for three straight months before you get your period. If you are ever offered this, take my advice and don't. It's just not worth it. Your hormones get all fucked up, you can't afford the amount of feminine products you will need after those three months, and (seriously this happens almost 97% of the time) you will end up getting a kind of period anyway and sometimes it may look like a lump of tissue that you might get confused with a miscarriage. These (and more) happened to me and when I called my OB-GYN about the last thing she assured me that it was just tissue, but that it is a common side effect and it even happened to her. It's not worth it.
After all this, I still haven't managed to eat my feelings and gain a ton of weight. I hope that next week I'll be able to see some loss. More later folks!

End of Week One

Week one is over and tonight I will do my first 'weigh in.' It has been a rough week, so I don't think I lost my goal of three pounds. I only exercised four times rather than six, and I've been stress eating even though I've been watching it. Stupid Bea is on vacation until Saturday, so I've been without her for a whole week (codependent much?) and Glow Bug fell down and busted up his tongue something awful and almost had to get stitches. Add to that the stresser that my mother, let's call her 'Joan' is coming in to visit tomorrow. It's been almost six months since I've seen her, but I'm all worried about it; let's just say she and I don't have the best relationship.

Since I'm working again I haven't been able to catch up on my celebrity gossip like I love to. However, I would like to comment on the new Harry Potter movie. I have yet to see it, but if it's anything like the others, I am sure I will be disappointed. I have a hard time not noticing all the subtleties of JK Rowlings' writings that are missing. I understand that things have to be cut because of movie length and quality, but big items get washed over and then are referred back to in later movies (like the whole Harry's petronum is a stag thing) . Then there is the lack of consistency with the directors: it leads to inconsistencies with the view of the characters, etc. It just annoys me. All right, I just re-read that whole paragraph and realized how nerdy I really sound. Oh well, inside all I can think of is how are the movie shots of those big Hogwarts meals.

Goodbye, Squiggy...

OK, I'll admit it: I have never been, 'skinny;' my body is built large and curvaceous (thanks to some good old Celtic genes), but I have been slender. I used to worry about never being a size 6, or not being able to see my ribs when I sucked in my stomach. Now I realize and appreciate my shape: I popped an eight pound baby out in 20 minutes!
Still, since Glow Bug was born, I haven't really taken the best care of myself. Well, if I'm being honest let me just say that I haven't taken care of myself since about 2000. See up to the millennium I had been very slender, Bea has the pictures to prove it), but in 2000 the medical powers that be thought that I had a type of Crone's disease and quickly put me on steroids to counteract the dramatic weight loss that is a symptom of the disease. Two months and forty pounds later - oh, it's not Crone's! Sorry! So the steroids were gone but the forty pounds stayed - right around my belly button: it's a spare tire I call "Squiggy."
Then Glow Bug came into existence, and I gained another 15. What are we up to now? 55? Grrreat. So now I'm a new mom with an extra 55 pounds on her. Well that's depressing so I eat my feelings. Low and behold I am now about 70 pounds above where I want to be. I can almost hear the slender girl in me screaming (although quietly as she is being muffled by Squiggy and the sound of coffee cake being digested). I've decided that the time has come to say goodbye to Squiggy and my friends 'Bagel' and 'Cheeseburger' (it was an emotional goodbye for the latter two, I must say).
The problem is: I'm not too sure how to go about doing this. I get the whole, "eat less, move more" deal and I do it. Hell, ponytail-man Tony Little and Pilate's-guru-to-the-stars Mari Windsor and I see each other every night for 40 minutes. I've stopped eating out entirely, and I've switched everything that might contain carbohydrates in my kitchen to whole grain. The problem is that we aren't just talking about 10-20 pounds here, we're talking 70!! That's the weight of the average third grader!!
I'm doing my best, but my friends cheese dip and mint chocolate chip ice cream are calling loudly.

Undeserving...

I finally saw an episode of “The Sopranos.” I realize that I am a little ‘behind on the times’ (what else is new?), but I figured that since it is going off the air and I’ve already paid for HBO (see the entry Rome) why not?
It sucked. A lot. Aside from the few chuckles I had at the stereotypes of my beloved New Jersians, the writing was bad and the plot was more transparent than my kitchen windows that have been painted over and I can’t open.
Here’s the thing: I don’t want to be that girl that analyzes shows and points out plot holes and cyclical writing (I don’t have to, I’ve got Bea for that), but it was way too easy this time. For a show that has been on hiatus for, what, two years now? and has won about thirty Emmys, I had high expectations. But when one of the characters talks about never doing a hit even though his father was so terrific at it, and talks about being afraid to now because of DNA evidence then he is asked to do a hit – you kind of see where things are going. Especially when the talk about DNA evidence is predicated by a lengthy pause by the two characters as they both ponder what DNA evidence will ultimately do to their ‘work.’ I was gritting my teeth, waiting for a big and unexpected ‘twist’ during the last five minutes that would show me justification for those highly paid writers and their Emmys. However I was let down worse then when I found a box of my baby teeth in my mom’s jewelry box telling me there was no tooth fairy. In the end, the guy who has never done a hit, does and before dying, the victim grabs his shirt and dies with a piece of it clenched in his hand. The killer gets upset and runs off, dropping the gun on his way. How sad. Whatever.
Cut to Tony Soprano watching old family movies of he and his sister running through those same paved streets that my sister, Dolly, and I ran through. I wanted to get all nostalgic, but I notice that all the cars have yellow and black license plates. Funny, from the fifties until the late eighties, all New Jersey license plates were blue with white lettering. Way to do some freakin’ research.
I’m not complaining. Silly things like this I can overlook on TV shows shown on the WB, or UPN that get a budget comparable to my gross yearly income, but when a show’s actors and writers get more money than our national deficit, I expect perfection and intrigue. Silly me.
On a happier note, the Easter vaca to the aforementioned New Jersey was excellent. I brought Glow Worm around to meet Bea’s mother and step-dad and Brother WDWMTTAHOMB which was funny and adorable despite the conversation about Johnson & Johnson’s Night Time Touch Gel (hehehe). I came back to North Crack-O-Lacky with more Bayard’s Chocolates than I can handle (but I sure will try!), sweet memories of my L&M Bakery Easter cakes, and fried chicken with the family.Gots to go now, loves. Enjoy the rant.