Saturday is for Meta (Sunday is for Brunch)

So I was looking at my stats just now, and two things jumped out at me. The first was that this blog has made it to AFRICA (and Australia, Brazil, Canada and Italy)!!! Awesome!! The second surprise was in my referrer feed. Check out this little gem. Gosh, that view next blog is a dangerous tool. Why can’t I ever find anything that good? The few times I’ve done it, all I got was suicidal Argentinian poetry.

A minor change.

I’m sick of typing J/Daddy all the time. I always mess up when I’m typing it. So, in my infinite wisdom, I’ve decided that for the purposes of this blog, he will be known as…..

Drumroll please……..

THE HIGHLANDER.

Or abbreviated to HL (which could also stand for husband-licious, hmm, I didn’t fully explore my options here)

ANYHOO, I’m calling him this because

a) his dad is scottish (but being from Glasgow, neither a highlander OR a lowlander)
b) he likes The Highlander
c) not to get mushy, but “there can only be one highlander”

It was either that, or General Zod but then he’d run around all the time demanding that I “bow before Zod”. And I can’t have that.

You want to know the funniest thing about all this psudonym stuff. He absolutely, positively doesn’t give a shit if I use his real name on this blog. I wonder if anyone has guessed it. I’ve left clues here and there. If anyone can guess it, I’ll just start using it.

Except of course certain friends (you know who you are) who actually know it for realz. No cheating.

Don’t want to be an American Idiot

I have to tell you something. It’s sort of shocking, and you may be a little freaked out and confused once I tell you. You may even be disgusted.

I have never seen even five minutes of American Idol. No joke. Homeland Security is looking for my ass, for being completly and utterly un-American. And not just because I just packed hair gel in my husband’s carry on bag.

I don’t know. I just never got into it. Friends of mine watch it, so do my cousins and my mom, so from time to time I hear about it. So I heard, of course, about that old looking dudeTaylor Hicks aka “Soul Patrol”

Like I said, since I don’t really follow it, I wasn’t up on the crappy single that he, as the winner would put out. So when that song “Chasing Cars” came out, I thought they said it was by “Soul Patrol”. I actually thought it was kind of listen-to-able. Then, after hearing it ad nauseum for 4 weeks, I started listening to the words. Lord have mercy! And, I finally realized that they were saying Snow Patrol. Don’t even get me started on what a dumb name that is.

So enough about me. I bought Ducky this awesome book at her “school” book fair today. It’s called No More Diapers for Ducky. How perfect is that?

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned Ducky-Duck’s recent love of all dogs, but specifically puppies. There is a Purina Commerical, you know the one with baskets of, puppies, the tagline Dogs Rule. and David Duchovny’s vocal stylings as the voiceover? She loves that commercial. She goes “OHHHH…….PUPPIEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!” whenever it comes on. Thank Goodness (or Cablevision) for TiVO. This is not that new. Actually, she started this shortly after Tia died. What is new is she said “Daddy, get puppy?” Damn baby. We wish we could….

In other news, J/Daddy’s The Highlander’s aunt passed away on Saturday. He’s leaving for the UK on Thursday night and won’t be back until Tuesday. And to make a trans-atlantic trip even more arduous, he’s leaving from Philadelphia!! It’s crazy, I know, but we are paying less than half of what they wanted from Newark. And when he finally gets home, he will probably find me either manically cleaning, or rocking and muttering to myself in the corner. It’s not the first time he’s been away for a few days, but I wasn’t working then. So will it be any different this time? I don’t know. It honestly wasn’t SO bad any of the other times, but it was like running a mommy marathon.

AND, awesomeness of awesomeness, the mom of Ducky’s BFF from her old school, called me today to talk about getting together. I love her daughter, (let’s call her Cutie Pie), and she and Ducky really like each other too. Like they hug each other for a full 2 minutes at a time. And her mom seems very cool. I’d written a little card with my phone number and put it in Cutie Pie’s cubby, and thought that I’d never hear from them. Not only did Cutie’s mom call, but I had actually dreamed about them last night!!! And they live right in my ‘hood. W-E-I-R-D.

Screw it.

When I started this blog, in typical finicky fashion, I had not concrete rules, but strict mental guidelines for what I would and would not write about on this site. I won’t bore you (or me!!) with all of them, but my main one was not to be a “mommy blog”. It’s been done. Some would say ad nauseum. I disagree. Most of my favorite blogs are written by mothers. Hell, one of my favorite bloggers, Alice called it a “radical act”. (Or so I hear. I’m not cool enough to go to BlogHer) I suppose I thought that I should steer away from that territory because I would surely suck at it when compared to the other Alpha Moms.

But screw it!! My kid is cute, and I’m going to write about her damnit! She tumbles now. I’ll be doing something in the kitchen, or on the computer when I hear BOOM! THUD! HAHHAHAHA! And she’ll be setting herself up to do it again!

She also say “OK” when you ask her something. I want to think it’s cute, I really really do, but she sounds JUST.LIKE.ME. when she says it. I can’t help but cringe.

She counts to ten. TWO. TWO. FEE. FOAR. BYE. SKI. SEBEN. (I blame The Count and his German Accent for that) AIIIIIT. NINE. TENNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!! TENNNNNNNN!!!!! AHH
AHH AHH (again, The Count)

OK, I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. There’s no need to have a point or anything.

Just because she’s adorable

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I wish I’d thought of this

J/Daddy The Highlander and I wrote our own vows. They were lovely, and fitting, and all that jazz. But I really wish I’d included this snappy little sentiment:

‘Til Death Do Us Motherfucking Part, Beeotch

Middle-aged man #1: So you married her, right?
Middle-aged man #2: Yeah, I married her. I married the hell out of her.

–Columbus Circle

Overheard by: Costa

via Overheard in New York, Sep 12, 2006

Since you were kind enough to ask

To those nice commenters who asked about little Ducky-Duck:

She’s fine. The lump sank to a bruise 2 days later, and until yesterday, she had a faint bruise that I kept trying to wipe, thinking it was dirt.

The daycare jerks think I’m over it, but they are sorely mistaken. They are definately getting a letter spelling out my displeasure, with a copy going to their corporate parent. And maybe a copy of said letter will find its way to a certain regulatory body governing day care centers (ahem, DYFS) .

These fools need to learn. Do not cross Mommy.

And Ducky starts at her new place Monday. I took her for a “visit” on Monday and Tuesday. I’ll go out on a limb and say she liked it, since I had to drag her out kicking and screaming. Literally.

Heavier Things

Just Kidding!! Honestly, what could be “heavier” than my previous posts? So. Blah, blah, blah. Still here? Good. Nothing much to report. It looks like I’ll be working 5 days a week again for the forseeable future. The money will be S-W-E-E-T. And it works out because Ducky starts Monday at the daycare by my office, so now I don’ t have to drive 11 miles each way JUST to come home and eat bon-bons. I’ll still eat them, just in my office. Cause being an accountant at quarter-end is easy yo.

It’s up to you New York, New York

My previous post was a bit emotional, and I may take it down, but here is it’s essence:

A tribute, with great love and affection, to the city I love.

“New York, New York” by Frank Sinatra

Start spreading the news, Im leaving today
I want to be a part of it – New York, New York
These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray
Right through the very heart of it – New York, New York
I wanna wake up in a city, that doesnt sleep
And find Im king of the hill – top of the heap

These little town blues, are melting away
Ill make a brand new start of it – in old New York
If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere Its up to you – new york, new york

New York, New York
I want to wake up in a city, that never sleeps
And find I’m A-number one, top of the list, king of the hill
A number one

These little town blues, are melting away
Im gonna make a brand new start of it – in old New York
And if I can make it there, Im gonna make it anywhere

It up to you – New York, New York

To the heroes, the ordinary people, and the families missing their loved ones. All my love forever.

I will never forget.

5 years ago today

Here it is 5 years later and I am still profoundly affected by the events of 9/11/01. If you’d asked me then, I’d have told you it was the worst day of my life. Ask me today and I’ll agree. Worse even than my father’s death, and even I can’t believe that, so it must be true. I felt so powerless, at the mercy of madmen, or worse, at the mercy of no one.

Over the intervening years I’ve thought of this day often. I’m truly saddened by the re-development of the site. I wanted (and so did Rudy Guiliani, BTW) a sense of before and after. I remember when there were towers, I remember when there was a plume of smoke, and I remember when there was nothing. I didn’t leave NYC for 2 more years, and I always felt the abscence of the towers like a phantom limb. And I realize that it’s not the buildings I missed, but what they represented. Not commerce, but thousands of lives ended. Slapping up something else feels like forgetting what these people gave up.

A few months ago, I read someone’s blog archives (I honestly can’t remember whose) recounting their family’s “fun” trip to “Ground Zero” complete with smiling pictures. I’m sure these people are not bad people, but Jesus, this is not a joke, it’s not Times fucking Square.

That day was horrific, a nightmare. I feel especially, personally offended by the gawkers and the expoliters. The WTC site is not a fun destination. Go to Sea World if you are looking for that. It is an open grave. I know that no one understands why I feel this way.

And didn’t I just say yesterday that I don’t want this blog to be a downer? The events of that day affected me profoundly and forever. I thought I’d share some passages from my paper journal entry of September 12, 2001 when I was living in Brooklyn, NY and working in Manhattan.

I got off the W train at Union Square, on my way to work. When I got to street level, I saw a crowd of peoplefacing south. Initially I thought there was a movie shoot. But something about it made me turn and look too. When I did, I saw smoke billowing from what looked like the top of one of the Twin Towers. I called my father and told him that the WTC was on fire. We hung up, and as I was walking towards 19th and 5th [my office at the time]I heard some people muttering about a plane. When I rounded the corner of 19th Street and 5th Avenue, I could see the gaping, burning hole in the North Tower.

I was stupidly worried about being late to work, so I rushed into the office, just missing the second plane. A few of us went up on the roof to take a look, but went downstairs about 2 minutes before the South Tower collapsed.

All of the websites were down, and we had no radio or TV in the office, so I called my dad again for an update. That’s when he told me about the Pentagon, and that the South Tower. I told the office, and we all raced back up to the roof.

I think I saw at least three people jump or fall to their deaths[it is horrifying to remember this even today] I kept thinking that if I saw sunlight glint, then it was pieces of metal. Needless to say, there was no glint. I burst into tears for the first of many times that day. Those were people who had to make a desperate choice. a coworker wondered aloud what there last prayer must be. I said “Oh God, only you can save me now” I decided then, on that rooftop that is the prayer I have to keep it my heart. What you say in the last moments of your life is the essence, the core or who you are.

We stood there for several more minutes, looking at the Twin Towers untwinned. The North Tower had a gaping hole near the top. Below, we could see an orange line of fire. I thought I saw it wobble, and then I screamed “It’s coming down!” and it did, floor by floor from the top down. The smoke billowed like a mushroom cloud.

I finally got a hold of my mom, who worked nearby, and we began to walk home around 11 am. The entire island was shut down. I heard when I got home that there was some subway service, but I wasn’t interested in being below ground for hours and hours. It didn’t feel safe above ground either, just safer.

We walked up to the 59th street bridge, along Madison Avenue. We were purposely trying to avoid any more landmarks. So 5th Ave (where we started) was out becaus eof the Empire State Building, and 1st Ave was out because of the UN. We forgot about Grand Central Terminal.

Just as we crossed 42nd Street, people started screaming and running for their lives. What made it worse was we were under a scaffolding, trapping us on the sidewalk . My first thought was to grab my mom and get in front of her, to protect her from harm. I still have no idea what we were running from, but I remember thinking there was a gunman. We made it around the corner, onto 42nd st, backs to the wall. After a few minutes, we realized that we had to keep moving. We saw that it was nothing, but moved fast towards the 59th Street Bridge.

We decided to stay on the pedestrian walkway of the bridge. It was packed and groaning from the streams of people flooding off Manhattan Island. I looked south, towards the WTC, and saw nothing but a plume of smoke. I didn’t know what I was looking at without those towers. Three quarters of the way to Queens, I nearly got trampled. I heard the whine of a low flying plane, and was afraid that it was another hijacked plane. I ducked and covered and would have been trampled if not for a quick thinking passerby who pulled me up and gave me a shove. Thank you, whoever you are.

We finally got home around 7pm. I was never so happy to see Brooklyn in my life after we finally got home. And I was never so proud to be a New Yorker. I love this city and all the people in it with all my heart and I always will.