Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Running from the law

I just found out that I'm a criminal.

Apparently, eight years ago when I felt bad for the neighbor girl who was attending Kindergarten with my daughter and insisted that she come hang out at our house instead of staying in the before-and-after school programs because her parents both worked I was breaking the law.

Thankfully I have nicer neighbors than this woman, because she is basically doing the same thing - helping out some parents and some kids - and one of her neighbors alerted the state that she was operating an "illegal" day care in her house.

What kind of nosy, no-life-of-their-own, I'm-miserable-so-I'm-going-to-make-everyone-around-me-miserable asshole does this woman live next door to? If this neighbor saw something "suspicious" why didn't he/she trot over next door and ASK what was going on instead of googling which State Agency should receive the complaint?

Hey, Mrs. Kravitz, put down your binoculars and leave those kids alone.

And the story goes national......

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Please don't comment on my food

I met a friend for breakfast this morning; since I've become vegan breakfast out has become an interesting challenge. If you look at a menu you find that most breakfast items can be directly traced back to a chicken or a cow. So I ordered fried rice.

When our food arrived a woman at the next table grabbed the waitress by the arm and said "Is that fried rice?" Now, this is one of the cozy little seats-20-people-who-are-still-sitting-on-top-of-each-other establishments (which only lends to its charm - and the food is TO DIE FOR) so this woman was practically sitting across from me and could just as easily have asked me because I'm pretty sure I would have known what I ordered but instead she and her companion accepted the waitress's affirmative answer and sat there ogling my breakfast. When she finally did deign to look directly at me she gave me a little wink like "Aren't you the ballsy one, eating fried rice for breakfast!?" (Yes, that wink conveyed A LOT. In fact, it conveyed so much that I knew if I offered her some she would have demurred and said "Oh, I could NEVER eat fried rice for breakfast but good for YOU!" like I was performing karaoke or something.)

I was a little self-conscious after that. I don't like people commenting on my food normally (it's a THING, OK?) and this was just a little weird but then I started eating and I was just happy.

Another thing about this restaurant though - it is sooooo small that one entire wall is glass which does make it look bigger but if you end up sitting across from the glass trying to talk to the person sitting across from you you find yourself in the uncomfortable position of trying to look at them WITHOUT catching sight of yourself making strange faces and trying to catch vegetables that are falling from you chopsticks with your tongue. It's a little disconcerting.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

What's the matter with kids today?

My daughter has been asked to Homecoming twice already.

Well, kind of.

One boy kept texting her and she finally texted back (and I really can't believe I'm using the verbs "texted" and "texting" in a blog post) "Why do you keep telling me this stuff?" to which he replied "Because you're my BFF" and then "And because you're going to Homecoming with me."

(I remind you that I am not a fluent in teen texting and have probably spelled words correctly that were meant to be misspelled. My apologies.)

She texted back that she was NOT going to Homecoming with him.

THEN she told me about the boy who she doesn't really know but she does know his sister and she's not even Facebook friends with him but, nevertheless, he sent her an email through Facebook that said "I know we don't know each other all that well but you seem like a really nice girl and I was wondering if you want to go to Homecoming with me."


(Warning: Old Person rant ahead)

All this technology is keeping our kids from learning how to socialize. These boys don't really like my daughter, she's just one more girl who might say yes. ( In fact, I told her to tell Facebook Boy "Um, I don't know what list I'm on but please take me off it.") They don't have to care about someone - or care about getting to know someone - enough to risk personal embarrassment, they can just send out mass emails and see who responds first! And it's not any better for my daughter. She was more polite to Facebook Book than I would have been, but still....she's not learning how to let a boy down gently while watching his heart break. These kids aren't acquiring any skills. They might as well match themselves up by what they're wearing. "Cute brunette with red dress seeks Freshman boy who will coordinate colors for Homecoming. Powder blue need not respond."

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

I'm a "10"

That's not my hotness (hotness? is that even a word? good grief it's early) score, that's my scariness score. I scared away a crew of driveway repavers who were hired by my husband.

In my defense (OK, I really have no defense) I was on the phone and my doorbell rang and since I live in a pretty little subdivision with lots of old houses in need of various repairs my doorbell rings frequently during the day and I have listened politely while someone explains the service/deal/UNBELIEVABLE-never-to-be-repeated-get-it-now-or-it's-gone-forever-BARGAIN detailed on the flyer they are forcing on me because I know times are tough and every one's just trying to make a living and, really, we probably do need to fix up our chimney sometime soon. But, as I said, I was in the middle of a complicated discussion (and had forgotten to put the repavers on my calendar, if I'm being honest) so when the doorbell rang and I saw a work truck and about 5 guys I just said "I'm on a phone call" and shut the door.

I had completely forgotten that my husband told me the repaving company was coming out that day and I did not remember until we were sitting at dinner and he said "I thought that repaving company was supposed to come out today." and I said "Oops." Then I told him the story. Then I said "Come on, I'm not THAT scary."

Apparently I AM that scary. He sent me an email yesterday that said...

The paving company is coming back on Tuesday.
Apparently you did scare them away when they knocked on the door.

Sunday, September 20, 2009


It's like they're sitting around trying to figure out ways to make Stacey spend more money.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


I have a thing for charming British men who portray cranky Americans. There. I said it. But a few years ago I had to break up with House.

I really enjoyed the show until nearly two years ago when I experienced my own medical mystery. On a Saturday I developed a headache so bad I couldn't even lift my head and my husband finally realized it wasn't going away and got me to the doctor on Monday morning. They took an x-ray and asked my husband a few questions (I couldn't even answer at this point - I was reduced to incoherent moaning) then I heard my doctor say "I want you to take her to Beaumont emergency, tell them she needs to be tested for...." and then I heard him start listing things that didn't sound very good at all. Things like meningitis. And even though I'd done nothing but moan for 48 hours, my ridiculously overactive imagination immediately took me to a hospital room where I was hooked up to every machine possible while a House-like group of doctors tried test after test only to keep getting it wrong and watching me nearly die and bringing me back miraculously then shaking their heads sadly at my husband and telling him to "prepare himself."

(It was at this point that I grabbed my doctor's arm and told him about the epidural injection I'd received three days earlier which turned out to be the problem and I was "cured" and back in my own bed by that afternoon. Whew.)

I found myself unable to enjoy House after that. I just couldn't watch it. I don't know what made me watch it last night. I was flipping channels and kept running into the final episode from last season and it was just so well-written that I found myself watching despite my discomfort and now I'm pretty sure I'm sucked back in. Plus I loved Cameron's wedding dress. Apparently good writing and a pretty dress can cure anything.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Why I'm not coming to your Tweet Up

Someone I follow is hosting a Tweet Up. I followed the link to the web site and was dismayed to find such poor grammar and bad writing that not only can I not - in good conscience - attend the Tweet Up, I may have to Unfollow the individual.

Really, if you are going to claim to be Michigan's Best Whatever, be sure you use the mandatory apostrophe. You are NOT Michigans Best Whatever.

I guess if I were really as snarky as I think I am I would supply a link to the web site and we could all check it out with our mental red pens. This is what I find so disturbing about the Internet, and blogs, and Twitter - anyone can post anything. (Yes, I realize I am probably proving my own point with this pointless little blog. I am perfectly capable of recognizing irony, thankyouverymuch.) And it's not that people with bad grammar can't have good opinions; many of them do. But you would think they would also be able to recognize their lack of grammatical ability and find/hire someone to handle that part of the business for them. There are plenty of perfectly good English majors out there waiting tables, folks. Find yourself one and put him/her to work.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

How much I LOVE my son's new teacher!

A week or so ago my son received his "Welcome to 3rd grade, I'll be your teacher" letter in which the teacher asked him to bring in his parents' email address because "they will be receiving lots of information throughout the year."

I haven't been too worried about my son, on this first day of school - though there was a little reluctance this morning to actually head out the door - but he has been on my mind: I sent his favorite cookies with lunch - pink lemonade cookies made by my friend Jill ( - but did he get teased for eating pink cookies, no matter how delicious they are? What if the teacher doesn't "get" him? Is that Obnoxious Kid from first grade in his class this year? What if he gets stuck sitting next to him? What if he forgot where his locker is?

My email account has been open all day and that guy said "You've got mail!" and I recognized the teacher's initials and the school return email address with an re: first day.

Uh oh. Apparently I haven't been worrying enough! What could have gone wrong? Why didn't she call? Is he still searching for his locker? Does she think that Son may do better in another class?

And the email said:

you were rite today was great! love [son]

Monday, September 7, 2009

You think I suck? OK

Someone called me today to tell me off. I haven't had someone do this in QUITE a long time so it took me a while to figure out what he/she was doing. When I did figure it out, I just laughed. And if you laugh at someone while they're trying to tell you off they get REALLY pissed off. And they talk......a LOT.

It's funny. This person is bitching me out about something I'm doing AS A VOLUNTEER. I have no personal investment, except I want things to work out for everyone. (I'm a big win-win person). So, say what you want. My motives are pure, I want nothing out of this for myself. And I know WAY more about you - and your motives - than you think I do.

If I could have this reaction to every problem in my life, things would be so much simpler.

Friday, September 4, 2009

I Just Took My Kids For Their Physicals and Now I Need a Drink

I'm incredibly grateful to have two healthy children. However, should two healthy children be THIS high-maintenance? This is what drove me to drink:

1. Watching my son have to Turn His Head and Cough for the first time.

2. Watching that procedure take 7x longer than it should because Son could not stop giggling.

3. Listening as Son gave Dr. essay-length answers to every question - even the Yes or No questions.

4. Having the nurse come in and tell me that she couldn't draw blood from Daughter because she was crying. (Daughter is 14 but has a very real phobia about blood; last time she cut herself she fainted).

5. Walking in Daughter's room after exam and having her shriek "I feel violated!" (Dr. is a woman, btw, and did nothing undoctorlike).

6. Holding Son while he cried through blood being drawn from his finger.

7. Being told that Daughter needed two shots. She gets so worked up about it that I told Dr. not to tell her until the shots were ready. When I went in Daughter's room she asked me if she needed shots. I couldn't lie; but did only tell her one instead of two. (She actually did fine during the shots AND getting blood drawn but by then I was a wreck.)