Whinging It

Wife and I went camping last weekend with Wife’s sister, brother-in-law and their kids, who are eight and four.  We also took Dog, who LOVES CAMPING, OHMIGOD CAMPING, ARE WE CAMPING? AND WE WILL SLEEP IN THE FABRIC HOUSE SO THAT I CAN SNUGGLE WITH YOU AT NIGHT AND SPEND ALL DAY IN THE DIRT OR THE RIVER AND IT’S SO FUN? CAMPING!!!!

Nephew, the four-year-old, is notoriously four and consequently was in constant danger of being left behind to fend for himself in the wilderness.  He does have a few things working for him, however, that meant he got to come back in the car with everyone else.

First, because of his ever-expanding and enduring love for all things Star Wars, he keeps up a constant hummed musical soundtrack. And while you might think that would get annoying, it lends a pretty fun gravitas to roasting marshmallows to feel like after you’ve made your s’more, you’re off to destroy a Death Star.

Second, while Nephew is wicked smart, he is not-so-much savvy in the ways of the wilderness. He went to a petting zoo a few weeks ago and identified a goat as a dog, a cow as a horse, and found the smell to be generally distasteful and to be avoided.  Also, when setting out on a hike during camping, he asked if we could take the car.  We could not.  So, despite his smarts, we had serious doubts about his ability to find a pack of wolves and convince them to raise him.

And now, here is a picture that has very little to do with any of this other than it was taken during the camping weekend.  Please note that despite the blinding whiteness of my skin, I’m actually a little tan here.  Also, directly following this picture being taken, there was much screaming about how cold the water was. Dog wisely did not follow me into the water.

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Things about which I am currently annoyed, but won’t do anything to remedy the situation:

- Facebook. I kind of hate it, yet remain fascinated by its constant updates on people I haven’t seen since I was 10. I am forever on the verge of just opting out of the whole situation, as I seem incapable of just not looking at it.

- The next-door neighbor’s dog. The next-door neighbor’s adult daughter died a few months ago (of the big C, if you’re interested), and that is a tragedy in many ways that we do not need to go into for this story.  At the time of death, I said something to the effect of, “If there’s anything we can do….”  And I totally meant it.

However.  Wife and I were rather abruptly put in charge of the neighbor’s dog and cat, sickeningly named Princess and Duchess. And when I say “abruptly,” I mean it.  The neighbor met Wife in the street with bags of dog food and told her we were in charge of the animals for three weeks.  And that was fine, for the most part.  But three weeks stretched into five with no notification, the dog is understandably lonely but cannot hang out at our abode as she is not house-trained (don’t ask), and Neighbor’s boyfriend keeps dropping by for lunch and then doesn’t clean his dishes, which is drawing a serious infestation of flies.

Luckily for the animals, Princess and Duchess are both delightful.

Wife was rightfully getting a little nervous recently that I would suddenly change my mind and decide I want to be a parent.  I’ve had the chance to hold many newborns lately and they are cute and soft and cuddly and they smell great.  And while my risk level for pregnancy is ridiculously low, what with the never coming into contact with semen and all, there was still a possibility for kidnapping charges and/or forays into the world of adoption.  (Both seemed like equally viable options to me.)

However, it is in our most unguarded moments that our loves are revealed:

While walking down the street the other day, a woman parked her car at a meter, got out, and then opened up the back door and started talking in a sweet dog voice.  (Dog TOTALLY knows when we’re talking to her, even if she’s facing away as our voices go all goofy, and this lady was using the same voice.) I craned my neck, ready to see and admire her puppy, hoping it had floppy ears and giant feet.

When the woman emerged from behind the door, she was holding the hand of a toddler and carrying a baby.  Total disappointment.

I should note that we are not getting a puppy, either legitimately or by less proper means.

I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, which probably marks the seventeenth anniversary of me thinking about getting a tattoo yet never actually getting a tattoo.

Here’s the thing. My mother is vehemently opposed to tattoos, which doesn’t necessarily preclude me from getting one, but she’s all sneaky.  When I was still a teenager and first wanting one, she asked me to write down what I wanted and then look at it in a year.  If I still wanted that same tattoo, I could get it and then I possibly wouldn’t regret said tattoo when I was sitting around all saggy in the nursing home.

I say my mother is sneaky because the thing is, I’ve never wanted the same thing for an entire year.  I’ve wanted variations on the same thing, but generally my taste has changed or whatever I wanted came into fashion and I didn’t want to look like a follower, etc.

And so I remain sans tattoo.

The other day I was riding MUNI and saw a woman with eyebrow tattoos.  And not eyebrow tattoos in the way of permanent eyeliner or lipstick.  It looked like the eyebrows her body naturally grew had been lasered off, and slightly above them, she had tattoos of demonic eyebrows with little devil tails pointing up toward her temples. I wish I had a picture.

(We must all pause a moment to recognize that even if I had a cell phone that took pictures, I in no way would have used it in this instance as I think we can all agree that Devil Eyebrow Lady would’ve kicked my ass if I so much as stared too long in her general direction.  Because that’s how Devil Eyebrow Ladies roll.)

So. Back to the DEVIL TAILS POINTING TOWARD HER TEMPLES.  I knew I should be horrified.  I knew that the point of such tattoos was that I would see her as a rebel! She’s anti-establishment! She’s a walking art piece! She doesn’t give a fuck what I or anyone else thinks is ugly! And not only does she not give a fuck, but she SO doesn’t give a fuck that she’ll put it right on her face! Right above the windows to her soul, which may or may not have been bargained to the devil in some sort of unholy compact!

I knew I should think all of that, and yet, all I could think was: I so bet she didn’t think for a year before she got those tattoos.

Trends or Pop Culture Phenomena I’m Convinced I Started:

- “Movie Jail,” as referenced on “Entourage.” I have a whole complex system detailing who is currently in jail, who is out on parole, repeat offenders, and a magical “Get out of jail free” card that is bestowed to Brendan Fraser because no matter how bad his movies are or will be, I cannot quit him. Even after my hair stylist told me he thinks Brendan Fraser has the worst toupee in all of Hollywood.

- Brown and pink as a fashionable color combination.

- Overalls with peasant blouses. (In the early 90s, not the 60s.)

Based on the Aforementioned, Get Ready for the Following Fads:
- Exhaustive discussions of what children should or should not be named.

- Ridiculous obsessions with the best way to do laundry. (Actually, the wheels are already in motion for a fad of people making their own laundry soap THAT I TOTALLY STARTED, but it’s still early days to declare it a real phenomenon.)

- Junior lifeguard camps for adults.

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Poor Ashley Judd
I read an article (or gossip item) today about how Ashley Judd’s going to Harvard for a degree in Public Administration, and she was referenced as the “Double Jeopardy” star.  I started to get all up in arms, all Really? You could only think of her role in “Double Jeopardy”? And then I couldn’t think of anything she’s done that’s more famous other than be sister and daughter of other famous people while looking like Charlize Theron’s less-hot older sister.

A quick check on IMDB only confirms her lackluster movie career.  I mean, of course “Heat” is probably the most famous movie she was in, but it’s only memorable to me as the most boy movie ever with the possible exception of “Point Break,” and I can’t even really place her in it which might be a direct result of having to spend the entire movie trying to tell Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro apart.  She was also apparently in “Natural Born Killers” but her scenes got deleted. Someone has a terrible agent.  Or isn’t that good of an actress.

Sorry, Ashley.  Good luck in your studies.

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The chickens are awesome and send their regards.  Now they must go back to complaining about that annoying black wolf that is always pointing at them.

Garry Marshall films that have not stood the test of time:
- The Flamingo Kid
- Beaches

Garry Marshall films that are still awesome:
- Overboard
- Pretty Woman

Stupid things I have said out loud in the past month:
- That second Harold & Kumar movie wasn’t as good as the first.
- You could pretend it’s 1890 and talk all ye old-ee. (Prompting much mocking of how I must think that Chaucer wrote many tales of the Roughriders.)
- You have the last of the Bailey’s. I don’t want it.

Words I apparently cannot say (according to Wife):
- Bull (also, possibly, bowl)
- Bureaucracy
- Coyote

Collections you can start if you live ghetto-adjacent:
- Sightings of cars with their logos painted all over them.  Mostly Lexus, but one notable Buick.
- Discarded hair extensions and weaves.
- Neighborhood break-ins wherein the thieves’ pants were so low that their panties color could be included in the description.