Sunday, November 8, 2015

Grammar Counts

I'm sure everyone has seen all the memes about grammar.

How There, Their and They're is crucial to the survival of the human race.

Even BatDad knows the struggle is real.

There is so much stuff dedicated to this on the internet it's hard to avoid it. And yet people still refuse to accept it's importance.

Luckily there are long suffering nerds like myself who aren't afraid to debate the important topics.

Case in point.

Our drill the other night in Krav Maga included this exercise:

We call this Spiderman.

Certainly if you could look down it would appear as if this lady was bitten by a radioactive spider and gained the unnatural ability to climb buildings. Obviously that is why we call it that.

Irrelevant though because why it's called that isn't' what I wanted to talk about. Of course I got distracted by another superhero origin story because that's what nerds do.

Anyway back on target, the person I was doing the drill with and I were trying to decide what the plural of spider-man would be.

Spiderman's (possessive)


Spidermen? (plural)

Because of course this is the discussion you are going to have while you suck wind trying to kick a pad over and over again before continuing the above pictured torture.  Well maybe that isn't what you would be doing but obviously that is what I was doing. Better still that is what my partner was doing.

Don't you just love it when you find your people? You know the ones with the same brand of crazy as you? It's awesome. 

Our conclusion was that we should be saying Spidermans because we were talking about multiple singular things and not about multiple people or about something that belonged to Spiderman. Although if Spiderman did invent this exercise and named them after himself then I might have to rethink my conclusion.

Anyone want to add their vote?

Of course this is very ironic because I'm sure you know as an avid reader that I frequently make mistakes in this blog. Not intentionally though. So I think that gets me a pass. 

Wednesday, October 21, 2015


Sexism is obviously a real thing and anyone who has experienced it knows how horrible it can be. I've been lucky enough that all of my experiences have been very minor.

Being a female is hard. Are you sporty or girly? This is the annoying question that my little girl talks about constantly.


Why do you have to pick one? Why are we constantly trying to stick women in boxes? Is she tough or soft? Athletic or dramatic? Labels. labels labels.

I'm not a fan. Not at all.

Saying you are or aren't something implies that you can't be something else. It implies you have to act a certain way. Have to fit inside that box.

It's constant.

Tiny little assumptions that force us to either fight against them or conform.

I spend my mornings helping an adorable group of two years old expand their minds and my evenings learning how to get out of a choke hold.

Does that seem odd?

It shouldn't.

I like to use a hot glue gun and a real gun.

If I were a man I'd be called well rounded. Maybe even a renaissance man.

Instead I'm weird.

Because I love a good superhero t shirt and a pair of high heels.

For some reason we've all decided that women and girls (people too) need to fit into a box. Nice and neat with a set of rules that make it easier to figure out who you are.

Not me. I refuse to do or think or be something just because someone else thinks I should. I refuse to be anything but me whether you like it or not. And I'm going to do my damnedest to make sure my daughter thinks the same.

We all know what happens when you ASS U ME.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Hot Glue and Paint

Facebook has just informed me that I have been living in my house for 2 years!!! 2 years!!!

That is straight up crazy. 

I've moved a lot. I mean a lot a lot. Like this house is number 15, or maybe 16? I'm getting old so I might be forgetting some places (should I count the times I lived with friends?). This includes all the childhood moves too. As an adult I tried to keep my moving down to a minimum. Probably why we stayed in NJ for as long as we did. (Sorry Triple S)

Whatever. We're here now and it's awesome. 

With moving a lot there are certain things that I always wanted to do right away. Pictures were the biggest thing. I want to start decorating right away too. I feel the need to claim the house as my own. (It's like I'm a dog but with less peeing) Even if I like something there is a part of me that wants to go back to white walls and start over. 

Since this house was new construction everything was "white". Or horrible contractor beige as the case was. Right away we painted the kids rooms. Colin got a nice blue and Natalie got the most ridiculous pink and purple and girl could ever ask for. (Of course now she says her favorite color is blue or black or red, depending on the day.)

Everything was great.

Then I finally caved and joined pinterest

Perhaps it wasn't the wisest decision for someone like myself. Perhaps I should have just stayed away but people kept posting pictures on FB of all the shit they were going to make. Food and crafts and wedding ideas. It was insane and I finally got sucked in.

Thank god for paint brushes and hot glue guns. 

So I keep busy with "projects." Some fail.  

Some don't though and because I am always so shocked when something turns out good (or maybe I'm a braggart) I want to let everyone know. 

Do you think it would be rude to put post its by all my DIY projects around the house? I mean I could also put a supply list so if anyone wants to recreate it they know how? 

No. That's probably weird. 

DARN. Can I just take pictures and post them on FB? (hahahahhah I've been doing that all along)


side note:
This post was almost all about why I wanted to live in a museum. Not like a stuffy building with velvet ropes and audio tours but because I wanted all the stuff in my house to have little brass plates in the corner telling you that I made them or why they are so awesome. And of course by extension I'm awesome.  I changed tactics though.  So you're welcome. This could have been a super obnoxious post dedicated to my amazing house.

Just kidding. It still is that because I'm modest AF.

Monday, September 14, 2015

BRRRR it's cold.

It's happened.

Here in the South the temperature has dropped. And by dropped I mean I can open the windows and begin wearing three quarter pants. Possibly even long sleeves. Certainly not full pants though. It's got to get a lot colder for that level of craziness.

At least for me and anyone else newly relocated to the South from the North.

We don't wear jackets in this family. In fact on the few occasions it has snowed it has been all I can do to get my kids to wear fleece.

Triple S hasn't worn a jacket since we moved here. He's all about the hooded sweatshirts which wreaks havoc on my laundry but that's a story for another day. Apparently he seems to think they are one time use and only about 3 fit in the damn washing machine!

Never mind.

Back to this morning. There were pants and fleece as far as the eye could see at the bus stop. There was panic and fear. There was talk of bread and milk.

OK so that didn't really happen as no one who lives in this neighborhood is actually from the South. But this is the time of year that the true Southerners start to freak out.

They bundle their kids up and dress in ridiculous layers.

Of course all of this seems insane as by noon it's sunny and 85 degrees.

I'm going to smile though because I know the cold doesn't mean the snow is about to start. It doesn't mean salted roads and power outages and closed school.

Okay it totally means closed schools but who cares? I won't have to shovel ever two hours to make sure the snow doesn't get to deep for me to leave the house. HAHAHAHAH.

I wont have to leave my Christmas lights up until April when the ice on the house finally melts and I can remove them. Of course by then the squirrels will have chewed through most of the wires so I will only be taking them down to throw them away.

I don't even have an ice scrapper in my car anymore.  That alone makes me giddy.

I remember The Big Recco used to keep a shovel in his trunk because once he got stuck digging his car out with a three ring binder.


It's possible that was just a story and that the shovel was for other purposes.

Whatever. You know what? The South is awesome.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Internet BS

Remember way back when I was concerned about the 4 legged chickens?

Luckily those sad animals seem to have been rescued. Or eaten. I'm not sure since the Internet seems to have lost interest in them.

Don't worry too much about it though because the Internet has something else you should feel bad about.

Danish people are awesome and show serious respect to their elders. 

Not us though. We are horrible and should take a long hard look in the mirror. Or some other soul searching activity. Staring out a window on a rainy day perhaps? Maybe sitting quietly at a coffee shop while you drink you bitter mochachino?

This is the picture that has been popping up all over social media again.

Notice anything amiss? Out of place?

Remember the part where they said this was in Holland? You know. That country that speaks DUTCH!!

Yeah I don't speak any Dutch either but I know they don't call a post office a POST OFFICE!

So of course being the eternally cynical person I am when it comes to the Internet I questioned the validity of this picture.

So off I went to search the World Wide Web hoping that Snopes would have something.

Imagine my surprise when I found this:

'Dementia village' inspires new care

It's real!! Seriously. This is the news story from 2013 on CNN! CNN people. No one is infallible but CNN is at least slightly more reliable than most other Internet news sights. Plus since the story is 2 years old it's not like people haven't had time to dispute it.

Crazy right?

I'll just be sitting in the corner sipping my tea while I rethink my world view.

Monday, August 24, 2015

First Day of School

Today is the first day of school here.

So far we have one missed bus, one forgotten pair of glasses and some confusion as to where we were going first thing in the morning.

There were backpacks stuffed with pencils and binders and composition books. Not to mention enough tissues and hand sanitizer to prevent the zombie apocalypse.

(I can't imagine why there are crazy super lice)

All in all not a bad beginning to another school year.

Let's see where we stand at the end of the first week.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Hypothesis Test Conclusion

You know that feeling you get when you think you are reasonably good at something but then you are forced to be judged? That twisting in your gut? That moment when all your self confidence leaves?

Like when you create something and then you put it out into the world to be judged? (not like on YouTube, those people are trolls and they live to be cruel)

Like a blog or something like that?

Actually this isn't about the blog. Although of course the fact that I am writing in the blog means that the above statement isn't true.

That's confusing.

But why should today be any different.

Actually I'm talking about singing.

Have I mentioned before that I do it a lot?

Like all the time. In the house while I'm cooking or cleaning. When I mow the lawn or clean the cars. When I'm painting, or building, or clearing the gutters, or any number of other things. (I seriously do all these things because I'm that good.)

I LOVE music and I'm not sure how anyone gets anything done without it.

Right now there is some fantastic Jazz on thanks to SONGZA. No singing and typing. I have a hard enough time expressing myself. 

In the car I'm the worst. Singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down. God forbid you get stuck next to me at a red light. For some reason I've never cared about that. It's not like I'm going to see those people again. They can judge away.

The last time I sang in public though was 8th grade. I sat on a lone stool in the middle of the stage in some ridiculous peasant skirt and sang Bette Midler's Wind Beneath My Wings.

I know right? You can just picture the awesomeness of it. Hard to imagine I was ever that cool.

So I'm not going to do the math but that was a LONG time ago.

Now I've sang in the car with my friends and at parties where the music is so loud I could sound like a dying pig and no one would notice. People have said nice things but I've always shaken them off. They are my friends after all. It isn't as if they are going to say cruel things even if my voice resembled the howling of goats.

At least I'm pretty sure they wouldn't. They aren't the type of people to offer false compliments. Or maybe they are but I have such a high opinion about myself I can't fathom that everyone else wouldn't think I was awesome too?

Either way no one has ever begged me to stop.

So this past weekend there was a big party for a very special lady. We seriously had planning meetings and a god damn sign up genius to make sure everything was perfect. and for entertainment we had a karaoke machine. I mean an honest to god karaoke machine with the lyrics up on screen and microphones and everything.

How can this not be fun?

When you know you aren't any good you don't care about being silly and having fun. It's not like we were auditioning for The Voice. This was all in good fun.

That is of course unless you think you have a half way decent voice. It's a truth you've always held but have never tested for fear that someone would prove you wrong. That someone would crush your little hypothesis.

But then you do. You sing without the mic because you really don't need the amplification and not only do your friends say nice things (seriously starting to wonder if they would lie or not. Note to self. Wear an UGLY dress next time out and see if anyone says anything) but their husbands do too.

So you get to keep that secret little fantasy where you totally could have been a professional. Serious. I'm just one chair turn away from being the next Kelly Clarkson. If Blake or Adam heard me you just know they would turn their chairs.

Or I'll probably just go back to singing in the shower.

Either way it's a pretty awesome life so I'm not going to complain.