Bad Kid

Super Nanny is so fun to watch because 9 times out of 10 the parents call in Nanny Jo to “Fix” their kids, not realizing that the only fixing that needs to be done is the parenting. Red faced and exhausted mom’s and dads are usually shocked and offended to be told that their children are not actually monsters; on the contrary it is entirely the parents’ fault that the children are ACTING like monsters.

Discipline is what she teaches, children need to know their boundaries otherwise they will grow up to be spoiled obnoxious adults after they have spent their childhood annoying everyone within banshee scream radius. I am sure you know what I am talking about; the piercing, nails on a chalk board, blood pressure raising scream children use to be noticed. You know the kind that often blasts out of the face of an ignored child who is not being taught words to use.

Of course those who know me know that by discipline I don’t mean smacking the hell out of a child’s behind in public to prove you are a good parent. On the contrary calling attention to it and screaming back is a good sign of Parenting Fail.

I realize that I don’t have kids and some might accuse me of choosing the wrong subject to get on my high horse about, but this horse needed to be ridden today after the terror that was The Ultimate Bad Kid in our office. This kid was like if Chucky had a baby with Raegan (of The Exorcist fame) and was raised by screech owls in a cave.

Prospective students come in to Brown Mackie College to sit with myself or my coworkers and discuss their interest in college. Sometimes these students bring their children, and some times we giggle and play with the little darlings while their parents sign up for school. That was NOT the case today. Today my coworker had a banshee. A 2.5 year old banshee who by his age should have words and should know what the word “No” means. The one and only time that his mother looked up from the desk after the child terrorized the office for an hour was when finally one of my coworkers (Thanks, Metika) had enough and made the lady keep him in the cubicle. The clueless mom giggled (news flash lady, we DON’T think it’s cute) and held him by the arm. To this he cried, screamed, pulled her hair and fought to escape…what did she do? Well what she didn’t do was discipline him. She coddled him, told him “it is ok” and hugged him.

This is a perfect example of someone who expects society, friends, family, and trapped admissions officers to take care of their children for them. Not once did she apologize, not once did she look up when we were fussing at him about “drop the THUMB TACK’s” and “quit pulling the dirt out of the potted plant.” When asked who would watch the little demon (not his fault but he is a demon none the less) while she was in school, she replied that she had a number of people who are willing to “take my kid.”

Regarding a past employment dismissal I overheard her state “I told him, ‘you don’t have kids so you don’t understand.’” There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to begin. First of all, what if that person had tried and tried to have kids and you just poured rock salt in the wound of your BOSS? Secondly, just because you “have kids” doesn’t mean that rules at work don’t apply to you. That was your choice to get pregnant (even if it was a mistake you didn’t accidentally have sex) so you have to deal with the consequences and either take responsibility for raising another human or look into adoption. Thirdly, having kids at home doesn’t mean that your free time or personal life is more important than that of those who don’t.

Not only is it concerning that this woman’s child is disturbing an entire office full of people and she doesn’t care; it is pitiful that he was running around through the building with no one watching him. He could be hurt (again on things like THUMB TACKS) or worse. If this child were kidnapped, God forbid, then you can take a good guess who she would blame for that. We are not a day care, society is not a school and strangers should not have to tell your kid “no.” It was like trying to babysit Jack Jack from The Incredibles; I am pretty sure this kid burst into flames a few times.

Finally, if my sweet nephew cries when I watch him then my sister apologizes like fourteen times, even though she doesn’t need to. Wouldn’t you consider apologizing ONCE to an office full of ticked off strangers (who are ON THE PHONE for a living) for the fact that your Tasmanian Devil disrupted an hour and a half of their day? I sure would and then I would rethink my whole life.

Happy Birthday to Me (and Aunt Kathy!)

Happy birthday to us! 3 is my favorite number so surely 33 means something double good. Here is to hoping that the coming year brings my greatest wish. Surely won’t be quite the surprise that my parents received 33 years ago today; but that is a story for another time.

Today even though I am turning 33 and not 30, Tim McGraw’s “My Next Thirty Years” seems to be so fitting. I love the lyrics so that is about all I have to say today. Here goes:

I think I’ll take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now it’s time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years

Hey my next thirty years I’m gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things I’ve done
Maybe now I’ve conquered all my adolescent fears
And I’ll do it better in my next thirty years

My next thirty years I’m gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what I’m doing here In my next thirty years

Oh my next thirty years, I’m gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe I’ll remember my next thirty years

My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, In my next thirty years

Your using the wrong spelling

Your vs. You’re. It’s one of the most common grammar mistakes and, frankly, I just don’t get it!

Just to be clear, the way I have used “your” in the title of this blog is INCORRECT!!

If you intend to say something belongs to someone then you use “your.” For example: Those must be YOUR high heels, I don’t wear them. That annoying ring tone is coming from YOUR cell phone. I loathe YOUR improper use of grammar.

If you could easily substitute “You Are” for the intended “You’re” in the sentence then yes go ahead and use “You’re.” For example: I bet that YOU'RE looking for Grammar mistakes in this blog post. Or: YOU'RE likely to still get this wrong but I am writing about it anyway. See “You’re” is a contraction for “You Are” and they are interchangeable.

They even sound different if you are pronouncing them correctly so I don’t understand all the confusion! Now I am sure I misuse punctuation, I know I over use commas and my grammar is not always perfect; but this really is a simple one. Let’s take it on as an easily correctable society wide problem and fix it!! Stop the madness, YOU’RE driving me insane!!

Letter to Madonna

Dear Madonna,

You really need to stop talking smack about Lady Gaga. Especially smack like “She has borrowed a lot of her career from me.” If you believe that to be true then you probably have a lot of cross over fans (like me) that would prefer to like you both independently. Comments like yours only force me to put bad marks in your bucket of likeability and skew my fandom towards Gaga.

Gaga is newer, younger and hotter at this time. You need to recognize what you were (awesome performer who writes her own kick ass songs and was consistently spewing out hits for over 20 years) and what you are now (more of an icon.) That doesn’t make you any less awesome; that is until you start bashing other awesome performers who write their own kick ass songs and consistently spew out hits. Those are the similarities between your careers. If Gaga is borrowing that from you, then you borrowed it from Elton John.

Much Love,

One of your loyal fans

P.S. If the accent you have acquired is a result of living immersed among the British and is not, as some would suggest, intentionally spoken to make you sound smarter; I have had your back on that. I myself picked up quite the Kentucky twang when I was attending UK. However, I would make a point to stop it…just stop it. Mmkay?

DisneyLAND

I suddenly have a persistent desire to go to Disneyland. I don’t think it needs to be said that I LOVE Walt Disney World beyond words; WDW is home to a part of my heart that waits for me in Florida until I return. That sounds really sad, actually, but it is a good thing!!

I always felt that if I am going to go to a Disney park it should be the ones in Florida, those where my memories are attached. Walt Disney World is so much larger with four parks instead of two, dozens of hotels instead of three, etc.

However I have recently realized that a huge part of the American Disney Experience is missing for me. Disneyland is the original park; it is where Walt’s vision came alive. There are attractions and shows that I have never seen, lands that are slightly different and details that I have yet to explore!!

I looked up pictures of Disneyland today and my eyes were as wide as Mickey’s as I reviewed the attractions in store. Alice in Wonderland dark ride? Why yes, please, I have never been on that before!!!

Let me try to explain this excitement to non-Disney freaks. Imagine your favorite Sports team has been playing another additional season which you have never seen; wouldn’t you be desperate to get more of the action!? But that’s not quite the best way to describe it, hmmmm. Let’s take, say, your favorite Restaurant!! Your favorite is BW3’s and what if suddenly they have twice as many sauces to choose from, the flavors you have never tasted are endless!!! Or you are a skier, you love to ski (God love ya, I hate hurdling down hill on ice in the cold but I don’t judge) and your favorite ski resort opens up 6 additional slopes!! I think that is what they are called, slopes, lanes? Heck if I know but hopefully you get the point.

Nothing really can describe this discovery but I feel that I am being called as a pilgrim might to an unknown far away land where new adventures cloaked in familiar magic await me. I dreamed last night that I saw Sleeping Beauty Castle for the first time so I am pretty sure that is a sign from Walt that my acceptance into that great Mickey Mouse Club in the sky is pending a stroll down the Original Main Street, USA.

P.S. I know how to get someone else I know to come with me: HEY PAUL, they still have Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride!!!

Little Bird

I finally pinned Cristy down to Watch Fiddler on the Roof this weekend. I always think that I have seen it enough times to not cry for the entire last hour of the movie, but alas, my eyes are still red and burning even today. All the boohooing starts when Tevye is parting with Hodle as she leaves for Siberia on the train, “Far From the Home I Love.” But the REAL kicker is and will always be when Chava is begging Tevye to accept her, along with the song/dance sequence that follows. I am intrigued by the symbolism and messages of this entire story because they are still relevant and I am confident they will always be relevant for girls coming of age. I love when Tevye signals the Fiddler to come along with them at the end of the movie, so much meaning behind such a small gesture!!

I had a eureka moment last night as Chava stands there watching her father walk away from her, turning his back on her life. I was thinking it, and Cristy said it: “we understand your pain, Chava.” The fear she had earlier in the film has come to fruition. She was so afraid that her family would not accept her marriage to a Christian man that she was willing for a while to keep it silent. She had to face the terrible choice of family or following her heart, and was left wishing for what she couldn’t have: Both.

This part of Fiddler has always hurt my heart and made me weep deeply and heavily; but now I see myself in Chava and it is all the more painful. Before I came out to my family I was a terrified emotional wreck. Would they accept me, and even if they did would they still see me the same way? The lyrics: “you were always such a pretty little thing, everybody’s favorite child.” I can’t even type that here without tearing up. It is terribly unsettling to wonder if loved ones will continue to see you as whom you were and are or whether they will simply tolerate you now that you love someone they might not approve of.

During my coming out process (I hate that phrase because it doesn’t sound like what I did. It doesn’t describe everyone’s experience but instead generalizes, however it is the only phrase available) I felt that I would never again get to be my old self so I had to create someone new entirely. I had to find new friends, wear more masculine clothes, sit, stand or walk a certain way. I would start going out to bars again, acting crazy and rebellious. If my family and friends were going to reject me then I might as well help push them away.

Only now do I finally feel comfortable in my skin. I have the confidence that my family does love me and I have a solid group of gay friends while simultaneously staying close with some of my old friends and new straight friends, as well. I wear dresses but not heels, I have found my own style and I am proud of my current life. However I will always remember and still have that fear that I am not seen as the sweet little bird I once was; what if something ever so small has changed in me to the people I love?

Little Bird, Little Chaveleh
I don't understand what’s happening today, Everything is all a blur.
All I can see is a happy child;
The sweet little bird you were
Chaveleh, Chaveleh

Little Bird, Little Chaveleh
You were always such a pretty little thing, Everybody's favorite child.
Gentle and kind and affectionate;
The sweet little bird you were
Chaveleh, Chaveleh….

Freedom Of Speech

How To: Discuss Freedom Of Speech

Freedom of speech is the freedom to speak freely. The term freedom of expression is sometimes used synonymously, but includes any act of seeking, receiving and imparting information or ideas, regardless of the medium used.

I wanted to have a quick Freedom of Speech lesson before people get all up on Twitter and Facebook screaming about “Have you ever heard of FREEDOM of Speech, how’s come Roland Martin is in trouble for tweeting to bitch-smack all the gays in the room!!??”

Roland Martin and every other person in this country have the right to say whatever crap they want. Those inbred cult freaks from that church I don’t even like to mention cause they get enough attention, THOSE people have the right to say whatever made-up baloney they want about our American Soldiers. Mel Gibson has the right to get drunk on wine coolers and then spew off every racial and misogynistic stereotype he can think of to a police officer (but not to drive after drinking the wine coolers.) My coworker had the right to send a petty email regarding a personal disagreement to another coworker and then copy the entire department and our boss. You always have the right to say whatever the heck you want, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t have to deal with the consequences of those words.

This common misconception (that Freedom of Speech means that everyone has to be in love with everything you say) always makes me think of a Dixie Chicks concert I went to many moons ago. Ah Dixie Chicks, where have you been in my life lately? Anyway, they had a video running during one of their songs with images all relating to the topic of Freedom of Speech. One section showed angry Americans stomping on and burning Dixie Chicks CD’s and posters. See, this was right after Natalie Mains had stated how she was ashamed to be from Texas since W was also from Texas. The point of the video was that she had the right to say whatever she wanted; however their fans also have the right to not buy their music because of it.

Think of it this way, someone has a right to walk up to you, tell you that you smell like Mel’s poo truck (Hi Mel, I bet you are reading this!) and that your baby is the spawn of satan. And then you have the right to not want to be their friend anymore. Like I would ‘unfriend’ them on Facebook and probably stop texting back. Even if you want to get in the last word, just stop texting otherwise you stoop to their level and it’s just petty. Anyway…

So, since Roland Martin tweeted during the Super Bowl about how naked guys gross him out and make him violent (although now he is saying that he was just making fun of Soccer, so um, you can believe that if you want) then the pressure from GLAAD and other organizations who represent minorities can cause his employer to decide to fire or reprimand him. That is a potential consequence of his actions.

And as for those who think our Nation is getting too “Politically Correct.” Tell that to my face next time you see me. GLAAD is constantly making this country better for my friends and me to live in without getting gay-bashed at work or in our neighborhoods. I love political correctness and all those it protects. I don’t want to go back to the days when women had to listen to dudes at work talk about their Penis and/or have them ask them out. No thanks.

Prop 8

I would like for the Mormon Church (and all the other douche bags who spent money supporting Prop 8) to try to explain to hungry and poor people, or to Jesus for that matter, why in the F they thought it was a good idea to waste all that money in advertising for something that was inevitably and eventually going to be defunct anyway….

How being gay cost me $29,000

A Real Life, Actual Person, True Story Account of Why Marriage Equality is Important

Cristy and Ann live together and have for 1.5 years. They share a dog, a cat, meals, bills, sometimes clothes and, as it were, a bed. Ann works at Brown Mackie College and Brown Mackie College offers domestic partnership benefits. Yay Brown Mackie College, you rule!! This made Ann and Cristy very happy when Ann accepted this job because Cristy’s benefits through her own work are about as useful as my coat this winter (today it is 55 and sunny on February 2nd.) Happy smile faces all around! Picture the two running through a field of rainbows with giant lollypops and sunshine.

However, once Ann did the math, as she likes to do, it turns out things are not as groovy as they seemed. The Federal Government (hereto forward to be known as “Mad Old Man”) doesn’t recognize Ann and Cristy’s relationship as a Marriage or even as a Domestic Partnership. To Mad Old Man they are simply roommates who sin 2.5 times per week then go back to being roommates. Mad Old Man is even madder that Ann and Cristy could potentially enjoy benefits like Tuition Assistance and better health care like the perfect God-intended male/female couples do; so he puts a stop to their fun. TAXES!! He taxes all of the benefits that Ann and Cristy receive but not those of Adam and Eve (or Jane and Steve or Carrie and Cleve, etc, etc.) Now Ann and Cristy feel they are walking through a field of sad clowns with grey clouds overhead dumping rain only on their little gay heads. Even their dog and cat have sad faces.

If Cristy were Christopher or, say, Newt, then she could have had FREE college tuition! This would have saved Cristy and Ann $29,000 in student loans! Wowsers!! Oh wait, Cristy CAN have free college tuition because Brown Mackie College (yay!) provides that benefit to Domestic Partnerships and they have one of those. It is even notarized and everything!!

However, when factoring in Mad Old Man’s gay punishment, Ann and Cristy would have to pay taxes on the tuition at the end of the year, and they simply can’t afford that. So instead of getting free tuition for Cristy, we owe $29,000 in student loans to Mad Old Man’s cousin Sallie Mae. Mad Old Man is so mean but some of his children, most recently Washington State, are recognizing relationships of couples like Ann and Cristy. So hopefully, slowly but surely, one day all the committed couples in the Mad Old Man’s land will be happy in rainbow fields again!

The moral of this story is never let a Mad Old Man get you down. You go after him like the mob of villagers in Beauty and the Beast with pitchforks and glitter bombs (ok they didn’t have those but it would have been prettier.)