2010 Rant Number 1

There are two kinds of jeans. Casual jeans you wear to the store and library, that may or may not have stains on them due to their other purpose of working in the yard or cleaning your house. And their snootier cousin - stainless, shape-retaining, and preferably the same shade of blue from top to bottom. These should be worn to any restaurant fancier than Red Robin but not quite as fancy as a place with valet parking.

And do you know where neither of these types of jeans should be worn?

The Public Square Theater for a Saturday evening performance of "Chicago". Yeah, make that any theater for any evening performance (I'll cut slack on the matinees, but I still don't like it). I don't care if you are seeing Rent or Madam Butterfly. Jeans are not appropriate. Period. Who gave the okay for this? They did not consult me.

God love the volunteers that seat people in the dark - after the performance has started - but maybe the theater needs to start paying for bouncers that enforce a dress code.

How hard can it be to dress up for a nice evening out that includes taking in some fine arts?

Men - at the very least, borrow a pair of your neighbor's Dockers and a sweater.
Women - kindly put on a shoe that you haven't sweated to the oldies in.

And P.S. to ladies surrounding me. It is not okay to talk in your normal voice while people on stage are singing. There is a fancy thing called whispering, if what you have to say is so important it can't wait until intermission.

And P.S. to Tom Wopat. Do you ever think about jumping in and out of the General Lee's car window while you're singing "Razzle Dazzle"?

Happy Birthday, Mom

My mom taught me how to create shading and dimension with crayons in my Snow White coloring book while we got our hair cut in Mrs. Stiewald's basement.

She always bought Oreos instead of the gacky Hydrox cookies my dad said were just as good.

She let me get out of bed to watch the Brady Bunch wedding special (the one where Jan and Marcia have a double wedding).

She picked the mold off the hot dog buns before she made us eat them anyway.

She put Barry Manilow and Rogers and Hammerstein in my heart.

She gave me $100 in rolled up quarters to use on my one and only Spring Break trip that they said I had to pay for myself.

She let me watch all the good morning game shows while drinking 7 Up when I stayed home sick from school.

I'm sure she did some other things, too. But those are definitely the most important.

Happy Birthday!

One Act Play by Morgan

Act One - Scene One (in the car, on the way home)

Mommy: So did you have fun at school today?
Morgan: Yes.
Mommy: Did you make any crafts?
Morgan: Yes, for Mather Lutin King.
Mommy: Martin Luther King?
Morgan: Yes. It's a bracelet with Black and White and Love.

Act One - Scene Two (later in the car on the way to dinner)
After explaining to Daddy the bracelet, Morgan settles in to play with her toys. Mommy suddenly puts up her hand and motions for Daddy to listen to the back seat.

Morgan: ...a long time ago there were a bunch of mean white people and one nice black man...

The End

The Oreo Gene

Little known fact: your DNA strand holds the key to how you eat Oreos. This is just a theory, of course, but it came to me in such a flash of brilliance, it has to be true.

Morgan eats her Oreos by dunking them in milk, like her mom.
Zoe eats her Oreos by twisting them apart, like her dad.

Pretty sure we never taught them either of these methods.

Pretty sure they shouldn't be eating that many Oreos for me to find this out.

Also interesting, Zoe does not eat the side of the Oreo with no cream filling. She purposefully seeks out the dog to give it to him, but if he is hiding, she will settle for giving it to me.

In other health news...Morgan told me her heart felt bad today. She said it was eating her stomach and growing too small, like the grinch. Both mortified and amazed, I asked her why she felt this way. "I don't know, Mommy. It's just not a lucky day." I'm pretty sure this stems from Christmas being over, but I am on the lookout for PTSD due to Jaws 3 in 3-D.

On the flip side, I also caught her singing Black Eyed Peas..."I got a feeling...that tonight's gonna be a good night..." and then she stopped and told Zoe, "Take it from the top. That means, go back to the beginning."

Pinky Dinky Doo strikes again!

Dread

What I am dreading:

Waking up tomorrow and actually putting normal clothes on, instead of hanging out in my pajamas until lunch time.

Dropping off Morgan and Zoe, even if it is to Nana Turtle since their normal sitter is still on vacation.

Walking from the parking garage to the tower in the bitter cold wind that defies any type of arctic expedition gear.

Listening to my voicemail.

Talking to external auditors about SAS70 reviews.

Talking to other employees about SAS70 reviews.

Talking to internal auditors about SAS70 reviews.

Talking to anyone about risk assessments.

Firing up Turbo Tax.

Going back to the gym.

Things I am NOT dreading:

It's a sad state of affairs, but I miss my co-workers. (As evidenced by the fact that I spent my Pseudo New Year's Eve texting at least one, possibly two, of them.)

Not having to entertain the devil's spawn in her every waking moment.

Taking bets on whether they finally restocked the Cherry Coke Zero on our floor. (If they knew what's good for them, they would fill the whole machine with it.)

Finding out the subject of the first instant message I will get about the "Loud Talker" in my aisle. Will it be about her upcoming doctor appointment? Where her friend wants to have her birthday lunch in July? Or maybe what Parfait got for Christmas? It's such a tough call.

My one and only New Year's resolution: Patience, patience, patience.