Workin' Blue

On the way home from her preschool the other day, I asked Avery what was her favorite part of her day. She said to me, "When I told the other kiddos the one about my dog having no nose and also the one about Mickey Mouse's underwear."

I asked (after pausing to wipe away a proud tear at the realization that she had her first "set" and seemed to like performing in front of a crowd), "So you told them jokes? Did they think the jokes were funny?"

And she said, "Yes. Especially the one about the penis."

Thanks For Nothing, Dr. Drew

How it SHOULD have played out:

(Brutalism walks into a room full of friends and family members. Everyone looks very serious and as she enters, all eyes are on her. She stiffly takes a seat in the only available chair, and a person she has never seen before begins speaking very calmly.)

Stranger: We understand that you have made a very bad choice recently and we are concerned about you. We think that you might need some help. What is your take on this?

Brutalism: Is this because I had a few dozen too many glasses of wine last night? Because I've read that red wine is GOOD for you. You all need to read more. (She points accusingly at each person around the circle.)

Stranger: No. We are actually gathered here today, as people who love and care about you, for a much more serious reason. We heard that you made plans to go camping this weekend. Camping! YOU!?! We are here to ask you if you will forfeit the camp site you reserved right now. Today. Are you willing to make that change in your life?

How it ACTUALLY played out:

After driving for SEVEN hours (this should be a three hour drive) to get to Virginia Beach, we made our way to the camp site we had reserved (past a clothesline with a huge bra hanging from it and another camp site with a rebel flag displayed proudly out front), to find that the campers before us had left trash everywhere, and that our tent space was situated right next to a mosquito-infested pond full of stagnant water.

We thought about just going straight to my mom's house and giving up on this little adventure. However, because we are the best parents ever lazy, we stuck with our original plan. And after going out to dinner in a restaurant (non Zagat-rated, we were totally roughing it), we came back to sleep in the tent. Mr. Rebel flag and his friends kept us up half the night with the little "south will rise again" party they had going on across the way, and because our tent was on a bit of a slope, Avery kept rolling on top of Canetto in her sleep.

The next morning (after breakfast in another non Zagat-rated restaurant -- sheesh...how much suffering can one woman take?) we headed over to my mom's house for the best shower I have ever had in my entire life.

Happily entering a 12-step program,
Brutalism

Where Were We?

1) This past weekend, I was asked by two guys that I find ridiculously funny to be a contributor to the new humor site they're developing. More on that as it comes to fruition. (Ugh. "Fruition"? Add that to the list of words I don't like. And in case you're wondering...there are actually some words I DO like..."skillet", for one.)

2) If you haven't checked out The Dilettante Club site, do so immediately. (And mock me for wearing makeup to an early-morning exercise class. I've become that woman.)

3) Based on a reader suggestion, I'm thinking about doing a "Friday lists" kind of thing. (People seemed to like the Jeopardy! categories post.) Whaddaya think? Would you guys contribute list ideas?

4) At this very moment, I'm sitting under a heat lamp at the hair salon, a salon that now provides Internet while you are being processed. Since I am getting re-blonded, you will actually be able to experience me getting ditsier in real time.

Your humble servant,
Brutalism

DC Bloggers

Last week, I went to my first DC Blogger Meetup meeting at Madam's Organ. It was a great chance to meet and talk with people who blog about a wide variety of topics and who were more than willing to provide their insight and expertise.

If you get a chance...check out their blogs:

Leon -- Listen to Leon
Bill -- Clarendon Nights
Dave Newman -- Groovy Soup
Shevonne -- Free Agent Writer
Kier Duros -- Durosia
Mike Licht -- DC Blogs
Yali Friedman -- Biotech Blog
Margie Newman -- Flack Rabbit
Joe Logon -- Dumb Things I Have Done Lately
Marie -- Merblog
Jade -- Jadxia Live Journal
A Glenn -- Comings and Goings & Good and Green

UPDATE: Of course, it goes without saying that once I implement some of the great ideas these people are giving me to market my blog and increase readership, I will become very important and fabulous. I may not remember your name. Don't take it personally.

UPDATE 2: Apparently, I slept with an editor of the Washington Post Express in a previous life. And in spite of that, they gave my blog another mention today.

Music To My Ears

Today, I am being featured over at Music Savvy Mom.

Now, normally I'm right there with Groucho Marx in not wanting to be part of any club that would have me as a member. (You hear that, Junior League of Northern Virginia? I'd like those four months of my life back.) However, I'm feeling like being included at Music Savvy Mom is elevating my status a bit.

Ri, who writes this blog, really knows good music and has enlisted some of my very favorite bloggers to participate in providing her with their iPod play lists.

In the spirit of disclosure, I must admit that I do not own an iPod...so my list is more of a hypothetical -- the play list I would have, were I to lose the death grip on my disc man and embrace the technology that the rest of the world has.

Check it out...submit play lists...show the woman some love with comments. You're going to like what you read (and hear).

Freedom Of Expression

I had a wonderful visit with an old friend yesterday.

She and I first met when we worked together for the ORGANIZATION THAT DOES NOT HATE FREEDOM for a couple of years -- in the same small department of that large association. (We later ended up dating the same guy, who also worked with us. But not at the same time, so it is slightly less dysfunctional and incestuous than it could have been.) (She tells herself hopefully.)

Since we had not seen each other in many years, our reminiscence included going through a box of stuff that I had saved from those days. The usual stuff you accumulate when you work somewhere for five years: a crazy letter file (which, if I did not fear being sued, would be its own blog), a commemorative Charlton Heston Celebrity Shoot watch and photos with Joe Mantegna from the event, and a letter proposing marriage from a fellow exhibitor at a trade show. (Lest you think my ego might need a check -- let me remind you that the pool of single women at these events was not a large one. And that the male exhibitors stood a good chance of never being mistaken for Brad Pitt.)

We also remembered that during that time, one of our co-workers was working on developing a Hunter Safety brochure that, among other information, included details on how to handle any first aid emergencies that may arise when people were out in the field. Our co-worker had tasked the in-house graphics department with creating the illustrations for the brochure and was slightly unnerved when he received the following CPR graphic from the (approximately 90-year-old) illustrator:

Not So Easy Listening

So.

While trying to lull my night owl 3-year-old to sleep recently, I sang every song I knew. First, it was all the kid songs with which she was familiar. Then, as I got more desperate, I started singing anything that came to mind. (If you'd like to know how to lullabatize "Sheena is a Punk Rocker" e-mail me...). (And yes, I'm pretty proud of the word "lullabatize.")

This explains why I have been listening to Firefall's "You are the woman that I've always dreamed of" as sung by a 3-year-old for the past week.

Yes...good luck getting it out of your head, too.

Whoa Whoa Of My Heart,
Brutalism

Smut Peddlers

As further testament to my earlier hypothesis that children's books are filthy (which is supported by examples here and here), I recently discovered the following in a book on my innocent's book shelf:




Based on what he carries, Pig Wig, apparently, speaks very softly...








...and wonders, as any pig with his attributes would, what may happen when he comes into contact with a sweet-looking *feline*...






Fortunately for Pig Wig, his new friend belongs to a sorority, so there is a (ahem)happy ending.



Looking for Tipper Gore's phone number,
Brutalism

Well, I'm Sure They Do Need To Be Laundered Pretty Regularly

(Loyal reader JenBC provided this gem. This is her local cleaners where her husband takes his laundry. And his merkins.) Obviously.

What Is...Rockin'?

Yesterday's post was mentioned in The Washington Post Express.

Dude.

UPDATE: Do you love how I linked to yesterday's post above, even though you can read down one more line of text to see it?

UPDATE 2: Okay, so apparently, I had other mentions in the Washington Post Express on June 4 and June 9

Dear Clinton Yates -- >mwah<

What Is...Roughin' Up The Suspect?

Jeopardy Categories I Would Totally Dominate:*

--Things that taste great smothered in Nutella
--Movies I convinced my husband to add to the Netflix list before he realized they starred Leonardo DiCaprio
--Creative ways of being passive-aggressive
--Family events where I saw my grandfather in boxer shorts
--Euphemisms for masturbation
--Famous men I've touched
--Cities I've thrown up in
--E-mails I wish I hadn't sent to my boss by mistake
--Potent Potables

*[concept (and the last item) borrowed from http://freetheunicorns.wordpress.com]

No One Wants That

Isn't being the Champion of Cornholing kinda like being the Captain of Team Diarrhea or having someone say to you, "You are the second prettiest girl at this gun show"?