Such a Little Thing Makes Such a Big Difference

Okay, my New Year's resolution was not to get so worked up about stupid shit. I am not going to get pissed off every time my husband changes the toilet paper roll and has end of the roll coming from underneath instead of up and over. I am going to rejoice in the fact that he actually CHANGED the damn roll in the first place instead of leaving one lone square of toilet paper on the roll. He does that so that when I come out of the bathroom fuming and ask him, "Why didn't you change the roll of toilet paper?" he can say, "Because there was still some left." Honest to God...one fucking square of toilet paper on the roll and he honestly thinks that is enough to warrant keeping it on the spindle. Like the next person is going to look at the one square left and say to him/herself, "Perfect! I only needed one square anyway for my teeny-tiny little bottom!" That reminds of the time my father decided that EVERYONE in the house used altogether too much toilet paper. So, he took the toilet paper out of all the bathrooms and held it all hostage. Whenever my brother, sister or I had to go to the bathroom we would have to go and ask our dad for toilet paper. He would assess our needs and dole out 5 squares of toilet paper for Number One and 10 for Number Two. I'm SOOOO not kidding. Even my mom had to ask him for toilet paper. Before he went to work he would give us about 15 squares to use while he was at work. I remember my mom screaming at him one morning that she wasn't going to ask him for toilet paper any more and who did he think he was, etc. etc. My father calmly handed her the allotted 15 sheets and left for work. After he left my mom drove me to Jewel and bought 4 rolls of Charmin, shaking her head and repeating all the way, "I can't believe I have to sneak toilet paper in my own house! 5 sheets! That stupid son of a....(unintelligible muttering)" When we got home from the store she handed me a roll and told me to hide it so that my father still thought he was getting his way. This began a lifetime of hiding things from my father...the $100 velvet jacket my mom bought me for the homecoming dance that she kept in the trunk of the car until 10 minutes before I left for the dance...the box of Frango mints she didn't want my dad to dole out to us one every other day so that they would "last longer"...the Steve Martin comedy album my sister gave me that I knew contained a lot of swearing so my dad would never let me keep it. My dad was a little tightly strung, to say the least. So, at least I come by my "getting worked up about stupid shit" thing biologically.
Anyway, I am trying to get up in the morning and say "Good Morning" to Tony before I ask him where my coffee is. I am trying NOT to make Bronte erase her homework and write it more neatly. I am trying to look past the fact that Brenna wears ankle socks and Crocs to school when it is 4 degrees above zero and there are 3 inches of snow on the ground.
This resolution got a workout the other night when my parents came over for dinner. My mom always wants to help when she comes over and so she will ask if she can peel potatoes or toss the salad or start a load of laundry or something. The only problem is...my mom is..well, I don't even know how to say this without sounding completely bitchy. Let's put it this way...when I peel potatoes, I have the water running a little and I put the little screen thing over the disposal and all the peels end up falling neatly in the sink where they can be easily gathered at the end of my peeling-time and thrown in the garbage. The few stragglers get washed down into the disposal where they are safely ground up and washed away. All the naked potatoes are placed in a pot the moment they are done being peeled so that they can be neatly dealt with when the time comes. My mother, on the other hand, peels the potatoes while she is talking, and she is hard of hearing so she will have to turn to whomever she is speaking with and watch their lips. At this point all the potato peelings are falling on the counter and on the floor. My mom then turns back to the sink and turns on the disposal without the benefit of running water and shoves the peels down the disposal with her hand WHILE IT IS RUNNING. Then she turns off the disposal, half-assedly rinses the potato and places it in the dish drainer with all the clean dishes. Then she goes over to the kitchen table to get another potato, trodding all over the peelings that have fallen to the floor with a blithe, "Oh! I'll get those later!"
So, yes I am a little anal about some things...but my mother isn't nearly anal enough. Needless to say, her offer to help usually gives my apoplexy because I know if I don't GIVE her a task she will just go and FIND a task. That scares me.
But, because of my resolution I decided to smile and nod and be appreciative when she helped me get dinner ready. I also had a glass of wine, but that is beside the point. So, guess what? When I stopped being so damn picky and watching her every move I found that she really was helpful. Also, she was a lot neater because I wasn't telling her how to do everything MY WAY so she was much more relaxed. Okay; lesson learned--Mom is a lot more helpful and productive when I am not being such a freaky bitch. Got it.
So at dinner we were all talking and enjoying ourselves when my dad picked up his glass of milk and asked, "Is this mine?" I said yes, it was his milk. He then said, "So...I can just...um...." and then he poured half of it out all over the table. I immediately stood up and said, "DAD! What are you doing?!!?" Well, that scared and confused him so he stopped pouring his milk out for a split second, but then he just turned the glass completely over so there was milk everywhere. After that he just looked at me and sadly said, "Gee. I'm sorry." In the meantime the dogs are under the table licking milk off the floor because it leaked through the cracks where the leaf of the table is. The cat was trying to get in on the milk action, but the dogs were being really selfish so she swatted Snoopy on the nose and he ran away. Then the stupid cat started to lap up the milk. Normally I would have gotten "the tense face" and quietly gone to get paper towels and wiped it up in total silence so everyone could see how pissed off I was. But, I looked at my poor Alzheimer's stricken dad who knew he had fucked up but wasn't really sure why or how. Then I looked at my mom. She had "the tense face" and she was crying and trying to use her napkin to sop up the milk. I took a breath and smiled and said, "C'mon! No use crying over spilt milk! No harm done. Look, it's all on the table, not on the food. I'll go get a towel." While I cleaned up the milk I told my dad to look at how happy the dogs were to get some milk for dinner! I also laughed with the girls and reminded them of times we had all spilled something. And you know what? It really wasn't a big deal. We moved on. My dad said he was sorry a couple more times and then (I daresay) he forgot all about it. My mom lost "the tense face" (which I'm sure was more due to the fact that she thought it would ruin MY night than anything else...a revelation that just makes me feel so stupid and petty) and stopped crying. We finished dinner and had coffee and dessert and it was fantastic.
I can't say that I have kept this resolution 100%. I can't even say that I have kept it 50%. I am SO glad that I kept it that night, though.
In other news...how is it possible that Tom Cruise just keeps getting uglier?

You're The One For Me, Fatty

Well, you know it was only a matter of time before I wrote something about Johnny Depp. Not only is he a wonderful actor (people forget that sometimes because of the whole "Pirates of the Carribbean" thing, but he really is. Just watch "Gilbert Grape" again, or "Edward Scissorhands" or even "Chocolat"--which, incidentally isn't my favorite Johnny Depp movie, even though he looks lickable in it, because I generally loathe love stories; especially trite ones. However, he did act in that movie...and not like a cartoon character either) but he is also pretty to look at. I admit that I don't have the poster of him on my bathroom door because he is such a fabulous actor, but at least I feel slightly justified in my admiration which is (as I stated before) not based solely on the fact that he looks fabulous from any angle.
Also, he is the first person I have had a poster of that didn't turn out to be gay. Seriously. When I was 9 years old, I loved Elton John. Gay. Then there was George Michael. Gay. Morrissey. Gay (although he hasn't come right out and said it, he is).
I have wasted lots of time having crushes on gay singers.
Now, how could I ever have NOT realized that Elton John was gay? I mean, really?? Who dresses like that...even in the 70's? For crying out loud, the first time I ever saw him was on the CHER show. C'mon...CHER!However, I was nine years old...give me a break. That was the same year that the song "Afternoon Delight" came out and I walked around singing it all the time because I thought it was about candy. You know, like Turkish Delight. I was always slow to pick up on stuff like that. I thought the Village People were just a group of guys who liked to sing about their favorite place to swim. So, when Elton John "came out" as a bisexual in 1976 I was totally devastated. Now I was going to have to compete against women AND MEN for his affections! Honestly, though, it just never occurred to me.

George Michael...well, the fact that I couldn't tell he was gay is just embarrassing. (See below.)

In any case, that brings me back to Johnny Depp. I adore Johnny Depp. I have posters of him in my house. My friends give me grief about it, but I would rather look at a fine photo of Johnny Depp than some bullshit art print that matches my decor. I love art...was an art history major as a matter of fact and know lots and lots about art. I would like to be a guard at the Art Institute for a month just so I could get there before the public and actually touch a Rodin...or feel the brushstrokes on the canvas of Monet's Haystacks. However, I don't want a stupid reprint of a great work of art, nor do I want sub-standard art on my walls. So, why not Johnny Depp posters? I don't have any unrealistic ideas about meeting him and having him fall in love with me or anything. I'm not 10. I just like to look at him.

The other day I was on a field trip with Brenna's school choir. As part of a choral exchange they were rehearsing a song to sing at a concert with one of the local high school choirs. The song? "Joy to the World". You know, the Three Dog Night version. It goes:

Jeremiah was a bullfrog Was a good friend of mine I never understood a single word he said But I helped him drink his wine And he always had some mighty fine wine Singin'... Joy to the world All the boys and girls now Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea Joy to you and me If I were the king of the world Tell you what I'd do I'd throw away the cars and the bars and the war And I'd make sweet love to you Sing it now...

Well, the kids weren't supposed to sing it that way!! Instead of drinkin' mighty fine wine they sang that he always treated me fine. Also, nobody was makin' sweet love to you they were spendin' time with you. Okay, now think about it...how does it make sense to spend time with a stupid bullfrog unless you're drunk? And, if you throw away the cars and the bars (meaning you can't get drunk anymore) and the war, what the hell are you going to do? If I can't go anywhere and I can't drink...then I'd better at least be having sex. Just spendin' time together isn't going to cut it. So, the school took the sex and the alcohol out of that song and made what was already a retarded song even more retarded. So, I was talking to the other chaperones about how stupid it was...especially taking out the wine reference. Who cares? That's when I brought up the fact that when I was little and sang "Afternoon Delight" I had no clue what I was even saying. I mean, I just thought it was a cool song. By changing the words to this song, did the school administration really think they were going to keep kids from drinking and having sex? Give me a break. Point being, I didn't have sex at lunchtime in 4th grade because I sang "Afternoon Delight". Then we all started talking about how the whole idea of having some actual "Afternoon Delight" didn't even sound good because we had so many other things to do while the kids were at school! Why waste 30 minutes on that? Besides, then you'd have to take a shower afterwards and the next thing you know the kids are getting off the bus and the laundry STILL isn't done. SO, one of the other chaperones said, "Well, if Johnny Depp came to your door and wanted a little "Afternoon Delight" I bet you would take him up on it, Carolyn."

Well, I started to really think about that and here is my conclusion. First of all, what the hell would Johnny Depp be doing at my door on a weekday afternoon? Only Anne Heche shows up unannounced (remember the "I'm from another planet" episode?) and I wouldn't let her in. Secondly, if he did show up, what are the odds it would be because he wanted to get naked with me. It's not like he couldn't do better. Thirdly, I just am not into meaningless sex at my age. Sure, he's fun to look at...but what are we going to talk about afterwards? He would be rolling himself a cigarette and I would be trying to cover up my thighs. Unless he was doing research for a role about a middle aged suburbanite, I am thinking that we wouldn't have a whole lot to say.

Me: So, Johnny...how's France?

Johnny: Great! Next time you are there, you and the girls will have to stop by and meet Vanessa and the kids.

Me: Perfect. So...want to hear about my stupid-ass job in Financial Aid? It's fascinating!

Seriously. Even if Johnny Depp did decide that he absolutely had to have sex with me, I couldn't do it. What would be the point? Don't get me wrong...I would love to have Johnny Depp show up at my door. BUT, I hope he brings his checkbook and Ty Pennington...then he can do something that would really turn me on; remodel my kitchen.

Hairdresser on Fire

Looky! Looky! It's a new year--2008. so, you know what that means? It means that, until about mid-April, I will put "2007" on each and every check I write and I will have to swear, cross it out and correct it and then write my initials above it to show that I corrected my error. Oh well, at least I'm not as confused as my mother...she decided to start writing a journal yesterday and she dated her first entry Sept. 3, 2006. I happened to see it when she and my father came to my house for dinner last night. She brought it with for "safe-keeping". Ok. Whatever. She left all her jewelry on top of her dresser, but brought her brand new journal with one lone entry in it. The entry started, "I have decided to start keeping a journal. I wanted to start it 2 days ago, but I am starting it today." I can see why she wanted to keep it out of the wrong hands.
Anyway, despite the fact that it is a new year, I am going back to 2007 for a moment. You see, my daughter, Brenna got an amazing opportunity this Christmas season. She and about 20 other girls from her fabulous choir got to go to the Auditorium Theater in Chicago and sing for the Joffrey Ballet's Nutcracker. They sang in the lobby before the show, in the orchestra pit for the Snow Queen's dance in the first act, and then in the lobby at intermission. They did this for one Friday night show and two on Saturday. I volunteered to chaperone, so I got to witness all this as well. On the Friday afternoon before Christmas we boarded a bus to the theater. I stood outside the bus while the kids got on so I could take attendance. When I finally boarded I took one look at the bus driver and thought, "Holy crap! He looks just like Nacho Libre!" Honestly. He didn't have on a cape and turquoise tights though. But, if he had looked at me and said, "Psst. Hey, don't tell anyone, but I'm really Jack Black," I wouldn't have been a bit surprised. I sat down in the seat behind Brenna and her friend and I said, "Hey Brenna. Look at the bus driver. Do you think he wears stretchy pants? In his room? It's for fun." (That's a line from the movie, by the way. I'm not some kind of freak.)
So, after two freakin' hours of rush hour traffic we finally made it to the Auditorium. (Incidentally, it only took about 45 minutes to get home. Stupid rush hour. Yet, that extra time in the bus was not wasted! We all ate Subway sandwiches and the girls rehearsed. I got car-sick and spent the last 30 minutes of the bus ride trying not to puke.) We had to go to the "Performer's Entrance" which was located in a dark alley that smelled like urine. Ahh!! The glamour of theater life! When we finally made it inside the building we had to wait for the official Joffrey choir handler to come and collect us, so we stood there watching all the dancers come in. They all dressed outlandishly and they were all really, really skinny. I am telling you, if one of the girls in the choir doesn't develop an eating disorder after looking at all those gorgeous skinny dancers, I will be surprised.
So, finally the handler came to take us to our "dressing room". Now, the Auditorium is a huge, old theater. We were led up stairs, down stairs, past crates of costumes and under the stage past hot water pipes. I didn't think we were ever going to get there. At one point I thought of the movie "This is Spinal Tap" when the band gets lost backstage on their way from the dressing room to the stage. So, I pretended to have drumsticks and beat on the pipe and yelled, "Rock and Roll!!" Well, none of the other chaperones had seen "This is Spinal Tap" so they looked at me like, "What the hell is wrong with you?" I started to laugh and so did this guy who was behind us. He was a cute, little, VERY gay dancer and he looked at me and said, "OH! MY! GOD! I loooove that movie! Did you see "Best in Show"? That was soooo funny too! How about "Waiting for Guffman"? That one wasn't my favorite, but I loooove Spinal Tap. Ha! Ha! This one goes to eleven!" The whole time he was saying this he was touching me...on the arm, on the hand, on the other arm. He reminded me of the cutest gay hairdresser I had in Arizona who used to change my hair color every time Linda Evangelista changed hers. I had about 6 different hair colors one year. Anyway, he walked away giggling. Brenna looked at me and said, "Mom, were you getting a gay-vibe from him?" Ha! I did see him again backstage while the girls were taking their curtain call. He was the fucking NUTCRACKER! How funny is that? He looked at me and whispered, "Rock and Roll!!"
.

That Friday night I got to sit in the orchestra pit with the girls. That was so incredible. As a musician I played for a few shows (local productions, obviously) so this was an awesome experience. The conductor was amazing in the way he interacted with all the musicians and the way he knew the score so intimately. Wow. I was under the stage so I couldn't see a thing, but the girls could see and just watching them staring at the ballet and the looks on their faces as they enjoyed the Nutcracker from such a privileged spot made me so happy.
By the way, I actually saw Morrissey at this theater. We had the shittiest seats ever. I was telling the girls where we sat and from the orchestra pit we had to squint to see them. I am telling you, they were in the very tippy top of the theater in the section called "Gall" on the seating chart. When I was pointing them out to Brenna and her friend, the theater chick who led us down to the orchestra pit heard me and said, "You sat up there?!? Man, those seats are dangerous. It's so steep. We don't even open those seats up, except every once in a while for a rock concert..." Then she looked at me like "what were you doing up there?" since I obviously had no business going to a rock concert at my age. I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but I was at the ballet and was feeling much too classy to swear. So I gave her a look that implied that I wanted her to fuck off. Much classier.
In any case, the whole experience was very cool. On Saturday we all went to the Hard Rock Cafe to eat between performances. Plus, we got to watch an actual Joffrey ballet class. What those anorexic bodies can do!! It's shocking! the funniest part was seeing how the girls reacted to the costumes on the male dancers. I mean, they might as well have danced naked...and the choir got to see them all really, really close up. They talked about it on the bus all the way home. It was hilarious. "Oh my gosh! Why couldn't they, you know, hide, ummm...you know, IT, a little better?" Giggle, giggle.
As an interesting little aside, the Joffrey debuted their Nutcracker 20 years ago at Hancher Auditorium at the University of Iowa. I was there. That's where I went to to college and I made sure I got a ticket. Granted, it was in the very last row, but I was there! I know I made some boy buy the tickets. I can't remember who, but I hope I kissed him goodnight.