...because I'm a geek

This week I will be taking my yearly mental health vacation. Where, might one ask, would a stripper-doula-mom go to get her head back in the game? Why, a sci fi convention, of course. It is my week to geek out with other geeks, some geekier than I, and others not. No, I don't dress up (that in and of itself is a story, and I'm still paying off the therapy bills). So, I will be in sunny LA CA safely ensconced in a hotel with some of the sci fi genres hottest men...what could be wrong with that? Reality is overrated, anyway.

Not too long ago I was at work when I teased a customer for putting a dollar in front of an empty chair.

"Is that your invisible friend?" I asked.

I should have seen this answer coming from the egg shaped head, the bad hair cut and the wire rimmed glasses perched rather precariously on a bird like nose.

"Yeah," he replied, "Harvey."

Although he could have just been a Jimmy Stewart fan, I was betting my very fine ass (it is, I've been told...honest) that he wasn't. I graced him with a huge "hey, we're part of the same club" smile and said "OH! You're a scaper."

You know when you're in trouble when they look at you OVER their glasses (something I never understood, really. If you see better without them, why are you wearing them.) The problem is, he was suddenly looking at me like something in a petri dish. That had just learned to speak.

Apparently, exhibiting an IQ was tantamount to farting on stage, so despite my very fine ass and it's sister attributes he rather tersely replied "Yeah", took his beer and left the stage. How dare this naked heathen enjoy the same show?

I'm used to a variety of responses when the ol' IQ points start to pop out. Some men take it in stride and we can spend a whole shift having a rather enjoyable conversation, sometimes even in the middle of a lap dance. While thankful for these interludes, I often can't help but wonder if these guys get off on talking politics inter-coitus, too. Maybe only the republicans...

Then there are the guys who are surprised. "You want to go out after work?"

"Thank you, no. Really, I don't get out much."

"Then what do you do for fun?"

"I surf the internet, watch the sci fi channel, sometimes if I'm feeling really crazy I'll do both together."

There's that pause as they seem to almost physically have realign their thought processes to include a stripper with a brain. While I realize there are a lot of dumb people out there with computers, owning and using one IMPLIES a certain level of intellegence. They either get over their surprise and move along mentally, or they seem to get stuck in neutral. Then they have to quiz me.

"Oh, so...you're like, smart."

What I want to say is "Yeah, smarter than you even before you started drinking 6 beers ago." Unfortunately, they might have a $20 (or more) with my name written on it so I have to nod and smile. "Smarter than some, not as smart as others."

What I love are the math questions. Frankly, I'm not a math person. I majored in English and slid through the math department by the skin of my teeth. But they ask something stupid like "So then, what's Pi?" Dude, you don't even know what pi is unless you're stuffing your face with it.

Then there are the guys who just kind of mentally check out, and go back to discussing my bra size. Odious, but easily dealt with.

I've never actually offended anyone before, though, for liking the same show. And like owning a computer, watching Farscape implies a certain level of intellegence. It's a smart show. You have to keep up or you'll get lost. It's not technobabble, but more like plotnobabble. There are so many convoluted twists and turns in the plot you can spend a whole week thinking about the thoughts, ideas, concepts thrown at you last Friday before you catch up to the next Friday's episode. It's smart tv. It's like saying you like Jeopardy in the scifi world.

So, I will be geeking out with other geeks this week, and thinking about those poor unfortunate souls not imaginative enough to geek out with me. Next time, don't bring up Harvey, if you don't want me to get the reference.

Peace,
Lil

Adventures in housekeeping

Anyone ever notice that Swiffer pads look like giant Always maxi pads? Seriously, it makes you wonder what that person was smoking on the day they looked at their sanitary napkin and thought "hey, I could clean the kitchen floor with that". On the other hand, that could be the very definition of being premenstrual.

Peace,
Lilith

spam and blogs

Someone please explain to me why there are folks out there who have nothing better to do than spam blogs? There is a special place in hell for you people, I swear! Get a life, get job; hell, get a sex toy and step away from the keyboard for a while. Now, some might tell me the same thing because, well, I don't actually have a life, either. (Actually, as a stripper I'm contractually obligated not to have a life, and as a mom I'm contractually obligated to never have had a life, so really it all works out...) However, my no life having activities don't infringe on others attempts at getting a life. I'm not shoving my blog under your nose screaming read it! READ IT! READ. THE. DAMN. BLOG! No, I hope you're all here because you want to be, except you spammers, who can graciously eat my g-string and choke on it, cause that's what you get for trying to stuff your crap down MY throat.

Peace,
Lil

I'm Baaaack...

I'm not really blonde. Honest. But somehow I managed to not only forget my password, but my user name and the rest of my account information, too. I even forgot what blog I was using. Well, duh! But, I got the kinks worked out (I think) and all systems are go. More will be forthcoming.

Peace,
Lil

There is no title for this because I simply can't think of one that adequately conveys what I'm feeling, what this post is about, or does justice to the subject, if there is one. Frankly, I like living in my own little world and tonight my reality check bounced. Hard.

Beslan. Does the name ring any bells? I don't generally watch the news unless someone calls and tells me to, and even then I usually pump them for the information as I can generally do without the mental polaroid CNN leaves me with. But tonight I stopped for diapers and paused a moment to browse the newstand as I left the checkout line. Some poor little blonde thing clinging to a shoulder with decidedly unchildlike look left in her eyes. I made the mistake of reading the story and left Stop and Shop crying like I haven't cried in years. If you don't know what I'm talking about, google it. Don't look at the pictures, just read the article. I'm not going into details here.

People often ask me why I homeschool, and my answer never seems to be the same twice because there are just so many reasons. Tonight when the subject came up I said "Ever feel like no matter how right you do everything, someone else can still come along and screw it all up?" It could be teachers. Other kids. Terrorists with guns. Life is so precious in these uncertain times that I can't imagine leaving my children to somebody elses hands 8 hours a day when every second seems to count. There are days when that big yellow bus looks so damn inviting, like when the girls confuse the hardboiled eggs with the fresh ones. 12 times. But then news stories like this put it all into perspective and I'm thankful I have the luxury of being able to stay home with them. I'll take my clothes off until I need a walker to shake my ass for that dollar if it means I have another day home with my girls. If it means I'll never have to schlep down to the school to check under a sheet for their bodies or worse, find them there.

In the mean time, I'm left wondering "why?". Children are the most apolitical of creatures; left to their own devices color, creed, and gender don't mean more than a cosmic attempt at making our landscape more interesting. Less homogenous. So how can anyone be so unabashedly cruel to children in an attempt to make a political statement? Dude, you're aiming too far down on the food chain. You got a beef with the president...go to the president. These kids weren't even old enough to vote in the election you're so pissed about. Of course, what kind of world are we living in when nothing says a happy childhood like a well planned assasination...

No peace here tonight...
Lil

The Ballad of Lucy Jordan

The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan

The mornin' sun touched lightly
On the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In her white suburban bedroom
In her white suburban town
As she lay there, neath the covers
Dreamin of a thousand lovers
'Til the world turned orange
And the room went spinnin' round

At the age of thirty-seven
She realised she'd never ride
Through Paris in a sportscar
With the warm wind in her hair
And she let the phone keep ringing
As she sat there softly singin
'Pretty nurs'ry rhymes she'd memorised
In her daddy's easy chair

Her husband he was off to work
And the kids were off to school
And there were on so many ways
For her to spend the day
She could clean the house for hours
Or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked down the shady street
Screamin' all the way

The evenin' sun touched gently on
The eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the rooftop where she climbed
When all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtseyed to the man
Who reached and offered her his hand
And led her down to the long white car
That waited past the crowd.

Apparently Belinda Carlisle has a version, but I'm partial to Marianne Faithful, myself. Her voice has that lovely, ethereal quality that lends itself nicely to a woman slowly going insane. I've never actually READ the lyrics before. In my mind Ms. Jordan hadn't been led quietly away, but the man offering her his hand was Death. Maybe I was influenced by the Thelma and Louise soundtrack, where I first heard it. Regardless, it's one of my favorite songs, so I thought I would share.

Peace,
Lil

more parenting politics

I stumbled across a blog a few weeks ago http://mamaduck.blogspot.com while looking for an actual picture of a mama duck. Ahhh, the vagaries of Google. I've since visited a few times because I find mamaduck's observations of her toddler son amusing. Today I found links to another blog and a message board at Mothering.com. Mamaduck was rather offended at moms ability to bash other moms so of course I couldn't keep my mouth shut (or my fingers off the keyboard) and had to chime in.

The whole subject in question was an AP (attachment parenting) moms board whose thread had become "Things you Won't Find on an AP parenting forum". I found it all faintly amusing, since most of it you wouldn't find on ANY forum. "Baby seal clubbing mamas here", "Should I allow my teen to get botox before the prom"...most of them were pretty over the top. The few that struck home seemed to REALLY strike home, like "Can I get my epidural in the parking lot". I have to say, I identify with the AP moms...I had a homebirth, I believe in child led weaning, I co slept with my baby the first year and a half of her life and my kids have never cried it out. I'm not perfect, but I strive to be the best I can be. The gold standard I hold myself to are those ideas that lay the foundation for AP parenting. Unfortunately, the non AP moms were in a tissy because they took it as a personal insult. I have to say, unless you're out there clubbing baby harp seals, who cares?

They whine about the derision of other women, they preach that holier than thou moms are teaching their own children disrespect, and I just have to say....change the channel. If you don't like what's being said, there's a million and one other forums for you to visit. You have a back button, a close window, and google. Use them. I've seen forums where the mainstream moms are having a good joke at the expense of the mom who has a toddler hanging off her breast like an albatross, and as an AP mom I just don't go back. They'd be miserable if they ever had to breastfeed longer than a week, and I'd be miserable if I ever had to offer my child a bottle, there is no middle ground there and I'm not going to try to find any.

It was suggested that these AP moms who were having a good chuckle at the expense of some serious hyperbole are just insecure about their own parenting choices and so, they have to make fun of everyone elses. ...shrug... Maybe, but I think the only insecurity is the same insecurity every parent has, and that's "am I good enough?" It's not about comparing yourself to Jane Doe down the street, or June Cleaver on tv, it's about comparing yourself to yourself, and that can be the most frightening comparison of all. If you can manage to find a little humor in there, by all means, laugh it up. Everyone else can take the stick out of their bum and tune in elsewhere.

That being said, we're all in the baby poop up to our elbows. Why can't we all just get along?