Parents are From Mars, Kids are From The Orion Nebula

That's right, we don't even occupy the same galaxy. Yesterday my husband sent me some posts from a guy on Twitter. His i.d. is "shitmydadsays". The guy is supposedly 29 and lives with his 73 year old father. I laughed so hard I cried. As you all know, I don't Twitter. Or tweet. Or whatever it's called. You all have probably seen this already, but it was new to me. For those of you out there who are socially network challenged, like myself, here are a few gems from shitmydadsays.

• "Son, no one gives a shit about all the things your cell phone does. You didn't invent it, you just bought it. Anybody can do that."

• "Oh please, you practically invented lazy. People should have to call you and ask for the rights to lazy before they use it."

• "Just pay the parking ticket. Don't be so outraged. You're not a freedom fighter in the civil rights movement. You double parked."

• "That woman was sexy...Out of your league? Son. Let women figure out why they won't screw you, don't do it for them."

• "Son, people will always try and fuck you. Don't waste your life planning for a fucking, just be alert when your pants are down."

I'm laughing even as I type those. We've all been there. We've all rolled our eyes at stuff our parents say.

I took my kids to the doctor for their annual check-up earlier this week. The doctor asked me if my 9 year old had hit the eye-rolling stage yet. I snorted. "He's been doing that for years," I told him. "Mom taught him how when he was very young." Our doctor laughed and replied, "Yeah, I suspected Mom had something to do with it." We reap what we sow.

My poor 9 year old big boy. He's my oldest, and the one we learn on. Poor bastard. I remember a line from the movie "Parenthood", which is one of my all time favorites. The mother of four says, "You're so careful with the first one. By the fourth you're letting them juggle knives."

Big boy and I have bonded over our disdain for Nickelodeon's newest pop sensation. He has the stupidest hair style I've seen recently. He looks like George Harrison in 1963. I asked big boy if he wanted to do his hair like that and he assured me no, not even if all the girls said they thought it was cute. So now I just tell him, "Wow! That bedhead makes you look just like the guy on Nickelodeon," and he immediately runs to the bathroom to comb his hair. I have my evil ways.

The other day I decided to make them watch one of my movies because I'd had all the bad kids' cartoons on t.v. I could stand. My 6 year old has been sick, and the only thing that made him feel better was forcing his poor mother to watch t.v. with him. We put in "Galaxy Quest", another favorite that they hadn't seen. (I forgot how often we see Sigourney Weaver's boobs hanging out. My 6 year old is already obsessed with the anatomically inappropriate. I'm surprised I haven't gotten a call from school about the fact that every story he tells has to involve something flying in or out of someone's butt as often as possible.)

While we were waiting for the movie to rewind (that's what old fashioned videos have to do, kids. We watched those before there were dvd's) "Tyra" came on. And to digress momentarily, does she look too skinny now to anyone else? She looks like a famine victim. I miss the fat and sassy Tyra. Anyway, she was doing a show on the rise of teen pregnancy, and had a bunch of pregnant teens as guests. (Hey! I'm going to get pregnant, too, so I can be on Tyra. Duh.) And at least two of them were 13. That's right. THIRTEEN.

That's only four years older than my big boy. I don't even think his testicles have dropped yet. Of course, I may have initiated that process when I immediately turned to him with a look of horror and screeched, "You are never to let a girl touch you! Ever!" He backed away with big eyes, shaking his head, promising, "I won't, Mom! I swear! Never!" Parenting by hysteria, my preferred method.

A friend of ours was telling us a couple of weeks ago that she roll-played with her teenage son. Without warning him. She just sat down next to him and said, "I'm a girl, and I just told you I want to give you a blow job. What do you say?" He totally freaked. I told my husband that for the rest of his life the words "blow job" will make him think of his mother. She's an evil genius. We've filed this away for later. My poor sons.

My 3 year old isn't safe from my commando parenting, either. I realized the other night that I may be giving her conflicting messages. I told her, "That's it! I've had about all of you I can stand! Is it bedtime yet?" And then when I tucked her in, I told her, "You're the best little girl ever." Hmm. We're starting a 529 savings plan for therapy for all three kids today.

So Very Sorry...

I really haven't been neglecting y'all, honest. I've been trying to do NaNoWriMo and well...I think that's going to get stuck by the wayside. I know, it's not even the 15th yet and I'm already considering bailing. I've been editing this month, revising this month, doing rewrites this month...along with a book I kind of need to get finished by the week of Thanksgiving. And the book well, it's just not cooperating yet. At least not the flow part of it.

I received edits early this morning on my new Ellora's Cave book and spent all day doing those and a couple hours ago I sent them back in. Lucky for me and my editor, there wasn't much to be done...a few grammar things, a couple word changes, a little addition to a few scenes and that's it. My other edits though, for my Loose Id book...yeah, my poor poor editor and well, we'll just say poor poor me too. 

So, needless to say, I don't have much to say today as my brain is elsewhere on other words that I must come up with.

 

 

 

Have a good weekend everyone!

~lissa

Hug your servicemen...

Today I leave the snark and sexy aside.

It’s Veterans Day and I’d like to pay my own personal tribute to the men and women who willingly give. From that giving, I am free to walk the streets downtown and not worry about being bombed. I can go to the market and have little fear of being shot on the sidewalk by a terrorist. I can know my country and my small world within it are safer because of that service. In many cases that means our soldiers are providing that service in many other countries. We are celebrating Veterans Day in the United States today, but I want us to think of everyone, all over the world, who has stood up to defend and protect.

Some do it for a job—some for love of country—some because they have no choice but to serve.



To the men and women in my life who have served, thank you for helping to provide a place of freedom for our children and a place of democracy for our future.

My Father, Walter
Three of my Grandfathers
My Uncles, Danny and Buckey
My Brother, Keith
My love, HB
My Step Father, Bud
My Friends Charles C., Zachary S., Angie W., Alan G., Mike S. and Kevin K.

Some of these people are still in the service. Two are in Iraq today. I send you love and support. I sorely miss those of you who are no longer with us. Today, as I do many days, I think of you. I miss you. I love you.

We sleep safely in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would harm us.
- George Orwell

Feel free to post the names of the people you love or the men and women you want to thank and remember.

Boo-Ya-Kasha
~Mari

It was an accident.

Okay. I admit it. I have not read any of the Twilight books. I don’t know crap about them. I am among the ignorant. My teenager loves them. I have adult friends that have seen the movies and have watched them a hundred times. I write paranormal stories and I don’t want to be influenced by the Twilight craze. I’m sure one day I will read them all.

I do, however, have an inkling of what they are about from all the trailers and hype in the air. A Mark Henry Tweet lead me to this SNL skit. His comment was something along the lines of “OMFG… you meant I have to wait to see this??” And I agree.

I HEART Mark Henry for pointing me to these videos…. And I HEART his books from the video blog Eliza posted last week. So Eliza--It worked. I loved it, I loved him and I went and bought all his books.

Cheers
~Mari

Primed and Ready for Action

I loved Mari's and Lissa's posts. I haven't got anything so entertaining. I'm full of dull. Do you suppose that's because I'm researching the history of the Methodist Church in England for my next book? lol Not that I mean any disrespect to the Methodists. But a little John Wesley, or ANY theologian for that matter, goes a long way. This is a minor point in the book. But I want to get it right, after all. The research makes me want to go back and reread Robert A. Heinlein's Job: A Comedy of Justice. "Theology is never any help; it is searching in a dark cellar at midnight for a black cat that isn't there." That's a Heinlein quote.

I wish I could tune everything out and concentrate completely on this book. I can, I have that ability, but to do so would be irresponsible. But, oh, I so wish I could. And because I can't I get snappish. It's not pretty. "There is no way that writers can be tamed and rendered civilized or even cured. the only solution known to science is to provide the patient with an isolation room, where he can endure the acute stages in private and where food can be poked in to him with a stick. " Another Heinlein quote. He was wonderful.

A quick note on Tranformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen. I just watched that tonight with my kids in an effort to cure my snappishness. Wow. That script could have used some serious trimming. They were all over the place, and there was more than one WTF moment for me that had nothing to do with the fact I was trying to listen to convoluted dialogue and info dumps while three children chattered in my ear and cried for snacks. It seemed like there were scenes that were extraneous that they just didn't want to get rid of. And when did the Decepticons begin pulling a Terminator and wearing skin?!

But my biggest beef was the way they shut Bumblebee out and shuffled him into a bit part. He was completely ignored in this movie. Do you suppose someone read my blog and got worried? (You know. The one where I prove without a doubt that Sam, Mykaela and Bumblebee are a menage.) A fabulous threesome shut down in its prime. Bumblebee was robbed.

And whoever does the voice of Optimus Prime? Call. Me. You can just breathe heavily over the phone and then say, "My name is Optimus Prime." Seriously. That would do it for me.