Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Are You Fucking Serious?

I’ve decided to start a new segment entitled Are You Fucking Serious? wherein I will periodically discuss things happening in the news or Hollywood.

Let’s not waste time.

Here’s my first issue: Kristen Stewart is cheating on Robert Pattinson. Are you fucking serious? I’m expected to care about this? I don’t. The only thing about it that remotely interests me is maybe the fact that she was shacking up with one of her directors explains why this girl keeps getting movie roles and has become the highest paid actress in Tinsel Town despite the glaring fact that, um, she can’t fucking act. What’s that sound, you ask? Sorry. It was me throwing up in my mouth.

Number two: One Million Moms has made headlines again. You may remember them from such failed smear campaigns as the time they tried to boycott JC Penny because they hired Ellen DeGeneres as their spokesperson. This time, OMM is targeting TV producer Ryan Murphy and his upcoming sitcom The New Normal, which is all about a homosexual couple trying to start a family together. Are you fucking serious? Why do you insist on going after this same group of people who, by the way, are just actively trying to love each other? I really don’t understand what gay and lesbian people have done to make the rest of the world so angry. If being gay meant that you ran around punching other people in the face or TP’ing houses and egging cars, then yeah, I could see why gay people weren’t well-liked. But literally, all they want to do is get married and have babies. I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. Why don’t you go after someone who deserves to get shit on? There are plenty of dirt bags in the world who rightfully deserve your scorn. I mean, I could understand your outrage if JC Penny had chosen Tiger Woods as their spokesperson, or some other asshole who has blown his load all over his marriage vows. But Ellen? Really? A woman who ends every episode of her show by encouraging viewers to be kind to each other? Whose motto is “Laugh, dance, live?” Who quit American Idol because she didn’t like crushing people’s dreams? Whose entire existence revolves around being nice to everyone? I don’t have any proof but I really wouldn’t be surprised if Ellen poops out rainbows and cotton candy because she is that fucking awesome and genuinely nice and this is the woman that you’ve gone ape-shit over? And now you’re losing your bananas over a TV show about a couple who loves each other and want to be parents because you think it is contributing to “the decay of morals and values, and the sanctity of marriage.” Again, if you’d like to go after people who truly make a mockery of love, marriage, and parenting, may I suggest boycotting some of the following atrocities that have been gracing our small screens for years: The Bachelor/Bachelorette, Sixteen and Pregnant/Teen Mom, The Real Housewives of I Don’t Give a Shit or that new show Kate Gosselin is pitching about her search for love. Actually, you know what? That deserves its own paragraph.

Number Three: Kate Gosselin trying to hang on to her 15 minutes of fame by pitching yet another reality show about her life is not new, it’s not news, and it’s not shocking. But I’m going to comment on it because the irony and ridiculousness will smother me in my sleep if I didn’t say something. So Kate, you’re tired of being single and your solution is to let a camera crew follow you around the country while you look for someone to fall in love with your crazy ass? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? Maybe a better question is, did you hit your head and forget everything that happened to you in the last five years? Didn’t your first marriage disintegrate before our very eyes? Didn’t that happen because of the fact that you put your marriage on display for the world to see? I’m not suggesting that that was sole reason you and Jon broke up; obviously there was a build up problems going back long before your series began, and your “fame” was merely  a speck of dust that landed on the straw that broke the camel’s back. But the bottom line is this: your TV show did not help your marriage. What makes you think a TV show will help you in a new relationship? And also, what makes you think the rest of the world wants to watch that shit anyway?!

And now for something a little, well, a lot more serious.

I considered not including this last topic because there’s absolutely no way I can (or would want to) make light of it, which of course, is the exact opposite of what I’ve done with the subjects I discussed in the above paragraphs. But, although what I’m about to say is drastically different in tone, I have just as much of burning desire to talk about it as I did with all that Hollywood crap. If anything, the following subject’s severity makes me want to discuss it more because it would somehow feel like a disservice if I said nothing at all. So, I’m sorry to suddenly switch gears on you, but consider this your official warning.

Finally, number four: this last one is about a comment I heard on the news from an angry Penn State fan (or possible alumni) about the taking down of the Joe Paterno statue earlier this week. Obviously this man, probably in his sixties or so, wasn’t happy about the removal of the statue and was trying to defend the late coach’s legacy. I don’t have the exact quote but it was something to the effect of “...we love Joe Paterno for giving us 60 years of integrity...” I’m not even going to swear for this one, because I’m so heartbroken and appalled. Of course I can understand why Penn State alumni felt this way about Paterno before finding out that he helped cover up the horrendous crimes of his fellow coach Jerry Sandusky. But after finding out about his part in the cover up? How in the world could you not feel as though every ounce of Paterno’s supposed integrity exploded into tiny shards of glass that deserve to be stomped on until they’re nothing more than tarnish on the ground? Sure, he was (the keyword now is “was”) college football’s most winningest coach, but he achieved that title at the expense of ten little boys who were robbed of their innocence. He may have led his school and team to football greatness, but he did it while lying about the presence of a sexual predator and he did so for twelve years. I understand that by stripping Penn State of every win they achieved during those twelve years not only punishes Paterno’s legacy, but punishes the innocent athletes who worked hard for those wins and have, unfortunately, lost them through no fault of their own. But losing those wins is nothing compared to what those ten boys lost by the actions and inactions of those in charge at Penn State.

I also heard that Paterno’s family was upset that they were not consulted about the removal of the statue. To that I say, it is possible to stand behind the man you knew him to be while not standing behind his inexcusable behaviour. Just because you were closest to him doesn’t automatically give you any say in how his “legacy” is handled. That would be like asking Jerry Sandusky’s family for their opinion in his sentencing. To his family, I’m sure Paterno was a loving person; to them, he’s not and wasn’t an aide to a monster – he was a husband, a father, a grandfather. But knowing the best side of someone doesn’t erase the worst side of them, and it doesn’t give you the right to dictate how the rest of the world feels or acts toward them, especially given such appalling and horrific choices made in the name of winning some football games.

I don’t know what topic I could properly move on to now, so I just won’t try. I think that’s enough ranting for today anyway. Sorry to have switched gears so suddenly and drastically, but I guess it’s just like the world we live in. Sometimes we hear about things so awful they slice our hearts in half and other times, there are stories so silly it makes you wonder if you woke up in some alternate universe where people might actually still want to watch Kate Gosselin on TV.

For the record, it doesn’t matter what universe we’re in. Nobody wants to watch, Kate. Nobody.


Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Letter to My Future Son

Dear bun in the oven:

As any expectant mother would, I have so much I want to tell you. Where to start? Well, how about with the important things.

At least this would explain the baby's
excessive movements. Every day
he's shufflin'. 
I’ve been experiencing a lot of heartburn during this pregnancy and it seems that no item of food is safe for me to eat anymore. People say this means you will have a lot of hair. I don’t know if there’s any truth to that, but I guess I’ll find out if you’re born looking like the dudes from LMFAO. Mostly what I want to know is why do you hate food so much? Are you going to hate food this much when you arrive? Specifically, what is it that you have against chocolate? Is there a particular brand of chocolate you’ve been holding out for? Do you think it’s possible you just got off on the wrong foot with chocolate and how do you feel about starting over with it? These are really important questions and I’d like you to seriously give them some thought before answering. Thank you.  

Your dad thinks that you’re going to be our quiet child. The way you’ve been kicking me for the last few months makes me suspect otherwise. I think he mostly just assumes that you won’t be able to get a word in because you sister talks all the time, but honestly, it’s pretty hard to ignore someone who repeats questions or sentences until she gets a) an answer or b) the particular answer she is looking for so I think you’ll learn to talk very quickly, if only to shut her up keep her happy and quiet. Although, I should warn you that even though she’ll motivate you into talking, she’ll probably do so while making you wear dresses and make up and nail polish. I should also warn you that I have no problem with her doing so and am probably not going to do much to deter her from this. If you want some backup on this subject, you’ll have to talk to your dad. But even he won’t be much help because he usually gets roped into dress up too.

I’d also like to talk to you about when you plan to arrive in the real world. I know you’re tentatively scheduled to show up on August 9th, but I’m supposed to attend a wedding the next day so if you could help a mother out and come a little early, that would be great. You’re probably thinking that a silly little wedding is nothing compared to your birth, and though I technically agree with you, I really, really want to see Alison get married. Partially because she’s one of my best friends, and partially because she’s always been the anti-bride and I need to see it with my own eyes to make sure this thing goes down, ya know? You’re probably wondering who the hell Alison is (she is the person that calls every day to make sure Mommy gets at least a few minutes to talk to an adult and doesn’t totally lose her shit, BTW), but I promise that in the future, you will come to know her well and if you make me miss this wedding, we’ll both be sorry. That might sound like I’m threatening you, but I’m not (maybe just sort of?). It’s just that she is one of those adults who’ll sneak you candy when I’m not looking - actually she’ll have no problem doing it while I’m looking right at you guys- and will teach you how to do all kinds of mischievous things that will drive me nuts and then you’ll feel guilty that I had to miss the wedding of someone so fun because I was giving birth/had just given birth and had a really sore vagina/was too afraid to leave the house for fear of having you in my car on the side of the highway. For pete’s sake, there is going to be a bouncy castle at the reception. A FREAKING BOUNCY CASTLE! Do you really want me to miss that? Do YOU want to miss that? I promise that if you pop out early enough- let’s say no later than the 6th, just to be safe- I will take you inside the bouncy castle. Obviously I will have to do so after the children (read: your sister) have passed out under their parents’ chairs from a sugar high and before the drunken adults (read: your father) start passing out inside the castle, but trust me when I say I can make this happen for you. Do we have a deal? Kick once for no and start hiccupping for yes.

If I’m being totally honest, and I think it’s really important to be honest with your unborn children, thinking about your arrival both excites and panics me. I cannot wait to hold you (after you’ve been cleaned up and I’ve been given a stiff drink of course) and see what you look like (mostly because I really wanna know if I’m going to have an LMFAO-baby or not). However, I’m only just getting used to the idea of being one person’s mother and it’s now dawning on me that I’m going to be a mother to two human beings and that’s freaking scary. So I’m going to apologize now for all the times you’ll look up at me in all your infant glory and cuteness and see this face staring back at you. 

I think you’ll learn quickly, like your sister has, that I have no clue what I’m doing and I’m mostly making everything up as I go along. But I also hope you’ll see how much I love you. I swear to you that although I’m nowhere near perfect, I will always try to be the best version of myself in order to give you the life you deserve. No matter how many times I lose my shit what happens, I promise to end every day by making sure you feel safe and loved.

In conclusion, just remember that food and bouncy castles are your friends. (Don’t forget, before August 6th.) Oh and a few more things just for future reference – tattoos and piercings are okay but you need to at least be 18, the original three Star Wars films are the only ones worth watching, and don’t bother ever asking your dad and I for a dog. It’s not happening.

Love Mommy

P.S. Seriously. No later than the 6th, do you hear me mister?!