Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Tee Box Squid

I flew back to South Cackalackey on Thursday night. My trips were (for the most part) quite pleasant. Getting home was a relief. Those who know me know that I am a slave to the familiar when it comes to beds and bathrooms. Save for my own home and the homes of our parents, I don’t generally sleep or void with any regularity when I’m on the road. So I am home now and since the only place we’ve been is my in-laws' house, I am much better rested and feeling much less bloated.

The best part of the last trip was a visit with Baby Cousin (BC) and … Baby Cousin’s Baby (BCB)! Oh, and her very nice Tall Husband (TH). He’s good too. I really should quit calling her BC. She’s 27 and a Mama. The BCB is a gorgeous little man. He’s smart and funny and sweet, which are pretty amazing accomplishments for a 7-month-old. BC and I seemed to have this big huge gap in our ages and our lives when we were kids. Now she could easily be one of my Girlfriends. But I’m fortunate that way… BC and her big sister are my cousins and my friends, as are my sisters. To have people who are both obligated to love you because you’re family, but whom you also enjoy and love so much of your own choosing? Well, that’s the good stuff.

And now for some of my completely unsolicited, but incredibly wise commentary on the goings-on in the world:

I am not usually one to advocate for a Bush OR a beauty queen, but…

1. Laura Bush’s recent skin cancer episode is ABSOLUTELY NOT OUR BUSINESS. We don’t have a right to know everything about her and the last thing she needs is the press acting like a small patch of skin cancer on her leg is a breach of national security. And besides, she’s married to W… doesn’t she have enough burdens? You know… like a Husband whose idea of setting the mood is a keg and a few rounds of “pull my finger”?

2. I feel sorry for Miss USA. Really, I do. She’s a 21-year-old kid from a small town who was suddenly living in New York with a lot of fame and freedom. If anyone is surprised that she got a little out of control, then those folks have clearly never lived in a freshman dorm. And I think the Donald did the right thing by giving her a second chance. But rehab? She doesn’t need rehab. She just needs about 5-10 years to get her shit together.

3. When are humans going to learn that marching out into the wilderness in crappy weather conditions isn’t adventurous or brave? It’s just f***ing stupid. For the sake of their families, I sincerely hope they find out those missing hikers alive and well. But people, this is why God gave us hotels. Our pioneer ancestors HAD to venture out into snow and ice and wind and rabid raccoons. That’s where the FOOD was. And people without direct deposit and 401Ks had to find LAND that would support their freakin’ families. They did so risking their lives, but they HAD TO DO IT. You are not that guy. You are a software geek in your LL Bean fleece. Stay home and thank your sweet industrialized nation stars that you don’t have to go out in that shit! Because if you DO go out to get "back to nature" like your ancestors, there’s a good likelihood that nature will get back AT you and you will DIE like your ancestors. The difference here being that you could have stayed in your nice warm centrally-heated home and heated up an organic pizza on bulgar wheat crust. Turn on the Sharper Image nature sounds machine if you must, but stay your wanna-be-hippie ass indoors already.

4. Husband and I are having a debate. The Office or Scrubs as best thing on tv? And if anyone writes me to tell me “u r realy dum if u don’t like Surviver best”… please be on notice that I will hunt you down and club you to death with your Sidekick. That show sucks it for crack. It’s just a soap opera- without the expense of real actors, makeup artists, or I don’t know… clothing? If I want to see semi-anorexic strangers backstabbing and having sex, I will go to a sorority house on a weekend.


Oh, and line of the week from Husband:

On the 10th tee box at an upstate no-where-near-water golf course:

Me: What’s that thing in that hole on the tee box?

Husband (barely glances up): A squid.

I love that man!

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