Wasn't it bad enough that I was socially inept in the REAL world?
"Social Networking" now means I can be a virtual doofus as well as a doofus in the world of solids.

Maybe I'm just tired because I couldn't fall asleep last night. And the start of the school year means a return to the "do it -- or else!" world of ... the world.

Sometimes, I feel like life is one big, long math class to me. Not the math that was concrete and understandable and that came fairly easy to me; the "just invert and multiply" math. The rules that we were told to use without explanation of WHY they worked, so my brain kept spinning and questioning "ok, but WHY" while the rest of my classmates just buzzed along by doing what the teacher told them.

It's not that I'm rebellious, or disobedient, either then or now. I just want to know WHY.

WHY do I need to fill out that reading slip? You tell me you want my kids to read 20 minutes or more per night -- done! They do that for the last half hour before sleep, in bed, anyways. Why do I need another piece of paperwork? The parents who are going to encourage or force their kids to read for that 20 minutes are going to do it -- or not -- regardless. I don't need another nagging, niggling responsibility on my plate.

WHY do razor blades cost like 10 bucks for 4 of them?

WHY are magazines/TV health shows now claiming that a squirt of ketchup is a contributing factor to obesity?

WHY did people eat regular food and not get obese before, say, 1990 -- but now we must eat little besides lentils and brown rice or else risk death? Why does even questioning that mean I somehow endorse obesity?

Why can't people ride a bike without wearing a special suit?

Why are there 80 different kinds of popcorn in the store?

I'm turning into Andy Rooney again.
Quest for Hire

I've been thinking of starting a new blog called "Quest for Hire" that chronicles my unsuccessful attempt at finding a job. I find it appropriate because it seems most potential employers apparently think I am a cavewoman. Even answering a telephone and speaking properly is beyond my skill level now because I have spent the 9 years raising children. Little do they know, I spent most of that time yakking on the phone! Ha! Jokes on them!

The lowest point is when I answered a Craig's List ad for someone to "take care of" a bunch of young internet start-up employees. They asked for someone to make sure the fridge was stocked with healthy food, to order and set up lunch for them, answer phones and fill out minor paperwork, and to generally manage the little details around the office to keep life running smoothly. Seriously, that's what was in the ad. So I applied, thinking that sounded like a "mom." It was not high-paying, either.

They didn't even bother to send me a rejection letter. Spending the last 9 years as a mom has left me unqualified to be a mom.

I have now considered adopting an alternate persona who has spent the last 9 years in prison, then submitting applications/resumes to job listings as both people just to see who gets called back for an interview first: someone who's been jailed for the last 9 years, or someone who's been a stay-at-home mom for 9 years.

At this point, I don't think I even want to return to the hell that is the average workplace, even though we could use the money. I fear I will end up in prison for sure, after stapling someone's head to his/her cubicle wall.
Happy Birthday, ÜberElder!

May your ninth year be your best yet!
Barney Frank, You Owe My Dining Room Table an Apology!

If you don't know what my title means, go Google something. I don't have time to provide you people with links.

Hopefully, Barney Frank's stand against the "townies" (really, what are those people called? The Fox News footsoldiers who show up at town hall meetings?) will be akin to that guy who asked Joe McCarthy if he had any decency: a moment that turns the tide against lunacy.

"Townies," here's my problem with you: you aren't really questioning the health care bill. You aren't even questioning whether or not health care needs reforming at all. Those are valid stances to take, whether or not I or anyone else agrees.

But equating this health care reform with eugenics or Logan's Run or Obama with Hitler isn't an argument. It's baseless nonsense. If Glen Beck or Rush Limbaugh or Hannity said "Obama uses white babies for his spear-chucking practice," which is as hatefully racist as the feelings these atrocious mouthpieces are inspiring in their audiences, you would believe it. Because you want to believe in a world of sharply defined good and evil. And you want to view yourselves as good, and "others" as evil.

And if you went to one of these town halls and shrieked "Why do you support a barbaric African's baby-skewering in the Rose Garden?", and your bewildered Congressperson replied, "But the President doesn't impale babies. And he was born in Hawaii," you'd call it a cover-up.

And that's why Barney Frank finds talking to you as useful as talking to a piece of furniture. It doesn't matter what he or anyone else has to say. Fox News has positioned itself as the one beacon of truth, you believe them, and thus they are able to either plant ridiculous ideas in your head or stoke the flames of prejudices that already exist there.
Is Feeding My Children Optional?

I'm not claiming any kind of parental superiority here. I mean, I feed my children this, for God's sake. The vitamins I purchased and sometimes remember to give my children are basically candy. I serve my children boxed macaroni and cheese, which has been known to cause health experts on TV to shriek "You're killing your children!" when they find it in the cupboards of the ashamed chubby people they're trying to assimilate.


I have become aware that many people do not feed their children meals anymore. I'm not talking about the decline of the family dinner. I'm talking about kids who wake up and spend the day grazing from bags marked either Frito-Lay or Nabisco. Not as a side dish; not as a snack. As in... that's all they eat.

They come to my house. Some decline my offer of a sandwich or piece of cheese or fruit. Others exclaim, "You have SPINACH! Can I have some? Ooooh... SALAD DRESSING!"

I have heard, quizzically, "You set the table? We never set the table at my house." Others are perplexed by the very concept of "dinner."

What the hell is going on around here? Cave people gathered around the fire and ate together. Ancient manuscripts include discussions of banquets and such. Every society includes dining rituals. Are we evolving or devolving?

This topic has been discussed before by more learned people than me. Usually I see "people are so busy with jobs and activities and whatnot." But I'm seeing it even when the people are home with their kids all day. They must not be eating, either. Are we really that lazy that making a sandwich is too difficult? It's not like you're baking the bread and slaughtering the turkey, people. Is your mayo jar on too tight? Can't get your utensil drawer open? WHAT??!!

I'm sorry, I said I wasn't judging. But now it sounds like I am.
See? This is what pisses me off, people.

Les Paul died today. He was 94. He and his wife changed the course of modern music practically singlehandedly. Where are the tear-stained hordes, like those who took to the streets for Michael Jackson? Will there be media specials? Prime-time docudramas about his life? Look at the guy -- he can be around children without molesting them! That ought to be worth something, right?

No. You can find people claiming Michael Jackson changed the world in seven... no, eight... no, twenty-five ways. But Les Paul? He only gets credited with one.

On the one hand, I'm sure Les Paul led a much happier life than Michael Jackson. That is good. But we are dazzled by freak shows and marketing into hyping image over reality, and that is bad.

Nihilists and existentialists are wrong. There is truth and goodness and "real"-ness to the world. It's just we don't notice or appreciate it often enough. RIP, Les Paul.
Start Shopping Early

My birthday is September 16. In case you want to send a gift.
Strange Dreams I've Had Lately
  • I was living a parallel life wherein I was an accomplished author and Mike Judge was hot for me and wanted to meet me. I was single and I think I was younger, too. I have no idea what Mike Judge looks like, but I was a much hotter version of myself in this dream and also a good writer, so I can see why imaginary Mike Judge wanted imaginary me.
  • Dilf went to the grocery store and bought nothing but red Delicious apples. The refrigerator was bursting with apples every time you opened the door. He was also referring to himself as "Chris."
  • My mother-in-law got collagen lip injections. They were not lovely.

Also, I always dream in color. I think I read that means I'm schizophrenic. Do you think I'm schizophrenic?
In The Course of Thinking About All This Stripper Stuff

I've come to the conclusion that my unease about stripping has nothing to do with the act of stripping itself, or erotic dance (certainly), or the enjoyment people get out of it. While I'm not a thrill-seeker myself, I don't begrudge anyone their fun and excitement. For example, I'm not any more against stripping (or watching it) than I am against sky-diving -- although I'll never do any of those things.

Although I earlier mentioned the sad aspect of the "pathetic" strip club-goer (I am thinking specifically of someone's brother I knew once upon a time, who really believed the strippers liked him and earnestly bought one of them a Christmas present, thinking they had a "relationship"), even that doesn't really BOTHER me, bother me. (I'm still a little sad for the guy.)

What BOTHERS me is certain audience members that go to strip clubs with sinister feelings in their hearts. Those sinister feelings are not the "ooh la la" feelings, but the "that's all you're good for, bitch" feelings. The men who hate women, but who are heterosexual and therefore "need" them for something.

I know those feelings exist outside of the strip club. I know strip clubs are just one in a series of outlets for guys like that. I know that rooting out those feelings and attitudes is a complicated proposition.

I just don't like that some people serve as human lightening rods for hate and animosity, and unfortunately, strippers can be that sometimes.
And Another Thing

Something else that bothers me about that story from two days ago: the neighbors.

I'm not actually faulting the neighbors. They did the right thing. And I don't know them any more than I know the mother from the story -- maybe they've spoken to her about leaving her kids alone like that. Maybe this is like the 20th time they've seen it, and they couldn't take it any more. Likely, they have just as many problems in their own lives, and they're not about to take on hers, too.

But... I'm thinking about my own great-grandma. She was in a similar position in a very different time. Her neighbors knew her situation. They didn't call the cops on her. They left anonymous food baskets outside the door, knowing she'd never actually seek out charity. And given that they were little old Italian ladies, I'm betting those were some damn fine food baskets. Believe me, I don't think there ever were any "good old days," but that doesn't mean we can't pick the good stuff from the past and incorporate it into nowadays. In this case, more personal interaction with your neighbors.

I'm just saying it's a shame that the mom's kinda on her own with those kids. I mean, the first thought should be, "Where's the father? Why isn't HE taking care of the kids?" But for all I know he's got a night job, too.

And maybe she'd exhausted all her favors from the neighbors. Maybe they're tired of watching her kids for her. Maybe they've worked all DAY and the last thing they need is to watch a couple more kids. I don't know. What I DO know is, one building I visited in the course of my career in the low-income housing realm developed their own child-care sharing system amongst the neighbors. We could use more of that kind of thing, I think.
And I Don't Even Like The Concept of Stripping

Another thing I don't like about that story from yesterday is the fact that stripping is likely the most lucrative job available to her. What that says to me is, women are only good for one thing. And they're only good for THAT for a limited number of years.

It's not just a women's issue. It's a humankind issue. I actually like a number of erotic dance types, like belly dancing and burlesque and such. But it seems like women can incorporate more of their personality, their personal essence into those dances or routines. It's more like art.

Stripping seems to me like naked gymnastics followed by rubbing yourself like a rabid cat all over some guy's jeans. Is that what we've been reduced to as a species? "Lookee what she can do! Now come simulate sex for some cash. Now go away."

It's just gross and dehumanizing for everyone involved. And I sense joylessness and desperation from both performer and audience. It's like people going through a drive-through and scarfing down fast food all by themselves in their cars, only with sex instead of food as the commodity being consumed. Is that really the best we can do?

I don't know that woman personally, but I'm betting she grits her teeth and goes to work each night, hoping for a better life for her kids. I'm betting she doesn't buy her daughter Jr. Stripper clothes so she can follow in her footsteps.

That's another thing that sucks about that story.
Is It Getting Hot in Here?

Hello, fellow travelers in the handbasket on the way to hell. How do I know we're going to hell? Well, not only is our current president the antichrist, but our last one was, as well. Americans are so greedy, we hog up all the antichrists! There will be no antichrists left for South America, Africa or Southeast Asia!

Another way I know we're all going to hell is things like this keep happening. It's not the worst thing I've ever read. It's not even the worst thing I've ever read on B.A.'s blog. But it's symptomatic of a lot of societal ills. Lots.

It may appear to be a straightforward story about a desperate and negligent mother who leaves two small children at home while she goes to work. But I think it's a muli-layered story, including the comments left on the news website in regards to it.

Let's start with the headline. As one of the comments pointed out, "If she waited tables at Denneys would they have lead with 'Mom worked at Denneys, left 2 kids home?' Probably wouldn't have mentioned, in the headline, that she was a server. Gotta sell those papers, I guess."

Yes, strippers sell newspapers while grocery baggers and waitresses and receptionists do not. Sex sells! And it condemns.

Obviously, when she left her children that evening, she wasn't panicked about making rent and the car payment if she didn't get to work. No, she was thinking about how much she craved that male attention and how she wanted to prance around wearing nothing but glitter gel. That dirty slut!

It's amazing how people can read minds like that. Because I would've thought she might be a stripper because it makes the most possible money, and she had kids to support. I'll get to what I think about THAT another day.

It will take a long time to peel away the layers of this story. I'm just on the headline, folks.
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

If being easily irritated, impatient and rebellious is sexy, then call me MILF -- Übermilf.

So you want more huh?
Click here!

Perverts, scram. There's nothing for you here.

Now, who wants cupcakes?

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