charm city, hon? i think not.

assholes are everywhere. i've lived in four different time zones, and yeah, they're everywhere. but i will swear to all the gods and goddesses that be, that the largest collection of assholes spread across every faith, color and generation are situated here. in charm city.

the place where people routinely drive 20 mph over the speed limit in the slow lane and qualify in the fast lanes while talking on their phones, eating and/or drinking, all while flipping me the bird because i'm actually only going 70 in a 60 mph zone. well, yeah. screw me then. the place where you actually get run off the road while you're lawfully riding your bike. where people honk at you while you're crossing the road during the "walk" light - every time. the place where people leave their grocery carts in a parking space adjacent to the cart corral, then get mad at me when they roll into their own cars. where the four seasons of the year are ravens pre-season, FUBAAA!!!, bowl season, and post-season. if you don't wear purple every friday to school in january, you get kicked for not supporting the ravens. i hate football. i don't care what team it is. i really could care less if the whole bloody team walked off the face of the earth and never returned. keep your stupid red-necked purple crow wearing brats off my kids. the place where you can't back out of your own driveway (or pull into it) without getting honked at or someone screeching around you in a rage for making them slow down to 30 mph on a residential street.

i can't find any info on how baltimore got it's witty little nickname - probably a marketing scheme similar to the one that gave us our 2007 multi-million dollar tourist-attracting motto: "Get In On It." a-wha? your tax dollars at work, folks. can i just have the road fixed instead? the money's already spent? wow. too bad that's all you guys could come up with. i wish i could get paid for absolutely no work. my kids have better ideas than that. but they're getting kicked, so they're busy right now.

i have news for charm city and it's inhabitants. there's more to life than baltimore. i get the weirdest looks when i say things like, "my parents live in another state," or "i really can't wait to go back to arizona." they generally completely lose their eyebrows when they hear we've lived in england. and i still get the question, "so if he was born in england, why doesn't he have a british accent?" please remain seated until the ride has come to a complete stop. and put down the cheese whiz and crab cakes.

baltimore is charm city? i don't think so, hon. if this is charm, i'd really hate to see the out-right hositlity. because that seems to be all i ever see anyway. no offense to anyone i have met personally, because if i've met you, and we're still friends...you obviously aren't who i am referring to anyway. apparently you-all need to start giving charm lessons to charm city!

good morning to the greater bal-wash area

ahem.

due to the large number of accidents on the streets and highways of the greater bal-wash area this morning, i must say that i am ashamed to live in a state that receives one inch of snow overnight and the residents lose their minds. right out the window. hey, i just had an epiphany: schools are closed and delayed, not because of accumulation, but because of all the bad drivers on the road that put the kids in danger. wow.

apparently those $500 driver's ed classes which are required before taking the written test don't actually teach anything, based on the number of drivers who can't drive in good weather, let alone throw some precipitation and/or darkness into the mix.

rule number one: there is no such speed as mach 50 in a land vehicle. stop trying to achieve it on the way to work.

rule number two: you should arrive to work on time in good weather so you have some credibility when the weather is bad and will not get into trouble for arriving late. then you can take your time and point & laugh at all the fools in the ditches.

rule number three: scrape all of your car windows before attempting to drive. a 3-inch hole over the steering wheel does not count. you need all your windows clear so you can see that mack truck when you change lanes suddenly without using a blinker while attempting mach 50. otherwise your car would only have a three-inch hole above the steering wheel instead of all those blasted windows to scrape.

rule number four: residential streets (that's a long word for "streets with houses on them") have slower speeds than multi-lane highways. people who live in those houses need to get into and out of their driveways without being honked at, run down, and/or killed. drive slower and it won't seem like that bitch just cut you off.

rule number five: ice and snow do not automatically melt when they hit the ground, even if that is what happened yesterday at noon. sometimes the ice and snow make a weird covering on the ground that makes it difficult to drive a car. again with the "slowing down" theme. (do i sound like a CD with a scratch in it yet?)

rule number six: if you are tailgating, that means your car is too close to the one in front of you. "too close" can generally be defined like this: the driver cannot see the license plate, grill, headlights, hood, or windshield wipers of the car in their rearview mirror, but can read their lips and see that they are being cussed out
for being too slow. tip: peeps who slow down are trying not to wreck. back off or change lanes.

rule number seven: you shouldn't be talking on your cell phone and drinking coffee while trying to drive, even when the roads are stellar. um, that goes double for texting and/or catching headlines on the blackberry. if it's not important enough to pull to the side of the road, it's not that important.

rule number eight: blinkers are your friends. the rest of us kinda need to know what the hell you're doing, since you and your phone are obviously not paying attention to the road. especially if you drive in the fast lane and wait until the yellow "exit only" sign comes up before you decide to exit.

rule number nine: your road rage means nothing to me. yes i did just take a picture of you and your license plate number. your ass is on platewire.

rule number ten: just because you pay taxes doesn't mean you own the road. and just because we all pay taxes doesn't mean we have to all drive like we own the road. here's a crazy idea: if we all start earlier and slow down when the weather is bad, chances are there will be fewer accidents and we'll get to work without having to sit in miles of backed-up traffic due to accidents. full circle, huh? whooooa.

Introduction to Using a Bathroom Door

so i wasn't feeling well. which meant i needed to make many trips to the bathroom over a couple of days. you needed the backstory, short as it is.

Introduction to Using a Bathroom Door
(complete with hands-on practical application)

Please gather 'round. Can everyone hear me? Good. Good. Welcome to Introduction to Using a Bathroom Door. We'll start with a lecture and move on to practical applications. That means we're going to play with the door at the end. OK?

You are in a bathroom. What do we generally do in a bathroom that would require the door to be closed? Right! Use the toilet. Very good. Now, When we use the toilet, we close the door because our pants are down and we have things hanging out that we don't want everyone to see, like penises and butts or vaginas, right? That includes me. I close this door because I don't want you to see my butt hanging out. Yep. Gross. That's why there's a door.

Now when I am in the bathroom and the door is closed, I do not want you to barge in at a headlong run yelling, "MOOOOM!" If you have something to say to me, you need to knock on the door and simply tell me. You can't press your mouth against the door and mumble; you need to speak up and be very clear. I don't need to hear a long story. Tell me why I need to pull up my pants and tell me fast. Now let's do a practice with knocking.

Close your fingertips up against your palm, very nice, and put your thumb across them, just like that!! Now, this is how you knock. (knocking) Practice right here on the wall. I want to make sure that all four of you know how to do that part before we move on. (lots of knocking and giggling) Good. Excellent, Not too hard, we aren't a demolition crew. Yes. That's it.

Now that we know what knocking is, and that we knock when we see that the door is closed, and we have practiced knocking, we will talk about the reasons why you might need to actually bother me while I'm taking a dump. Do you have any ideas about that? Should Mommy need to find your most favorite lego out of the 8 million legos in our house while she is taking a dump? How about pigtails? Should Mommy need to put your hair in pigtails while pooping? No and no. Very good. I am not going to make you a sandwich from the toilet, either. We are talking about emergencies. If someone has had their hand lopped off by Darth Vader, yes, Mommy needs to get off the pot. If there is a Mack truck crashing into the living room, yes, Mommy needs to pinch off that loaf and call the insurance company. If the ceiling fan disconnects from the ceiling and turns into an Indiana-Jones-style projectile weapon, yes, Momma should be interrupted to fix that. Pretty much anything not involving injuries or damage to the house is a 'No.'

OK, now here is the fun part. Think of a reason why I might need to be bothered on the toilet. Everyone have a reason? Good. Out. Pretend I'm on the toilet. Oh, No!! Whatever shall we do? The bathroom door is closed!

(knocking) "Yes? I'm on the toilet. The stove caught fire? Damn! Stay away from the stove 'til I wipe my butt!!" Excellent! Next.

(knocking) "Yes? I'm on the toilet. Oh, No! The dog escaped the backyard! I'll be right there!" Good one.

(knocking hard, til the door opened up) "Fail. You opened the door. Go to the end of the line and try again."

(knocking) "Yes? I'm on the toilet. Darth Vader is climbing in through the window? I'll grab my lightsaber and be right up." Nice.

(knocking) "Yes? I'm on the toilet. You were playing America's Top Chef and cut your finger? That wasn't very smart. Lemme get my draws on. I'm on my way."

Now we all understand what a bathroom door is for, why it is closed, when we should bother Mommy on the toilet, how to knock, and have practiced doing it the right way. Does anyone have any questions?

Thank you for your time and attention. You can go play now.

not not not

OK.

breathe with me.

hold my hand. please hold my hand.

it’s not a date. it’s NOT a date. it isn’t a date....is it??

my eighth-grade daughter came home from the boy scout family camping weekend with stars in her eyes. wearing someone else’s hat. not responding to any teasing about “her new boyfriend.” and hadn’t responded in any way all weekend long. oh, my.

she showered and changed into in cards-wear, brushed her hair out long and didn’t put it into her signature ponytail. and then we painted her nails cardinal red and i put teeny tiny C-A-R-D-S on her nails in white. she is right this minute at the home of a fellow scout-mom. a boy-scout mom. wait, i have it wrong. she is at the grandmother’s house of a boy scout. he, the boy-scout, wanted to invite my baby girl to a family gathering “to introduce her.”

please tell me it’s not a date.

please.