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10:13 a.m. - 2010-02-01
Just your average weekend.

An odd weekend all around. No scary bad things. No amazing good things. But still everything had this weird 'off' feeling to it. Maybe it was the ginormous full moon. Definitely one consequence of that huge moon was me going to the red tent a week early. As a result I'm skipping the gym today. Not to get gross here, but the feminine product that can cope with this tide hasn't been invented yet. I know PF is Weirdo City, but somehow I just can't bring myself to go workout with a dishtowel down my pants. I'll keep busy here where the mess is more easily handled. Feh.

Keep your fingers crossed that the new guy on Wolf's bus turns out to be a pal for my unfortunately socially isolated kid. Wolf's school is part of a larger campus with other schools and facilities, most for the profoundly handicapped. The other passengers on Wolf's bus are heading for those programs. Not that Wolf is a snob, but the other kids on his bus can't communicate well, so he's had a long lonely bus ride with only the monitor and driver to talk to. Today there's a new guy, an 8th grader at Wolf's school, and my son is stoked to have someone who speaks video game and man-boy stuff as his new seatmate. I warned Wolf not to talk this new guy's face off right away. Encouraged him to be chill and let things unfold as they would. Wolf cocked his head at me, the quizzical look on his face told me I was speaking Mom Martian again.

Yeah, we're at that stage already. Dagnabbit. Call it what you will- Charlie Brown's teacher speak, Martian, my heretofore excellent English has, through the magic of adolescence, been rendered into garbled, indecipherable, old fogey language. The occasional bit goes into his head clearly, but for the most part when I speak to my kid he does that quizzical thing or puts on the benign patient smile that one gives to their senile and stone deaf Great Aunt Mildred when she starts going on about how she ran into Benny Goodman at the deli yesterday and how Mr Tibbles, her cat, is up for an Academy Award.

Damn, I am so not ready to have a teenager in the house again. Wah wah, wahawahwah.

Also gone fubar is being able to take Wolf to the movies. He has become vehement about not seeing kiddie movies anymore. I can dig it, but I am equally adamant that he not see anything too violent or vulgar. Doesn't leave a lot of choices. Some PG-13s are okay, but most are not. As I am particular about what goes into his body, so I am about what he feeds his brain. I realize some potty humor is inevitable, but the outrageous trash talk and blatant ugly sexism in most so-called comedies these days is repellant. As is the mayhem and soulless destruction in most action movies (those usually have a hefty dose of sexism too). No, not everything has to be uplifting and morally pure, but neither do I want my son coming away thinking all women are dimwits in catsuits, gorgeous fawning idiots with pneumatic breasts, and that the hero is a good guy simply because he has the biggest gun and leaves the most dead people in his wake. Sigh�

Though speaking of movies, the other night Mick and I caught part of 'The Fantastic Four' sequel on TV and got into an argument about Ben Grimm's pants. Mick is a Hulk guy and doesn't much care for The Thing anyhow, whereas I think the Hulk is awful and adore Ben Grimm. So Mick's take was that in the cartoons and comic books Ben wears a speedo and in the movie he was wearing capri pants. Be true to your roots, says Mick. Whereas I think Ben should wear a whole uniform like the other guys do. Just because he's a mutant doesn't mean he's not entitled to clothes. But honestly Mick thinks The Thing shouldn't wear anything. He's made of stone, right? So what's with the pants? I scoffed and asked, "Okay, he's made of stone, this means he should go around with his pebbles hanging out for everyone to see?" That killed Mick. And sent me off on a spree about Ben Grimm's stone genitals. I was riffing pretty good and then finally Mick almost wet the bed when I said, "So yeah, when he's flaccid it's a stalactite and when he's erect it's a stalagmite?"

We get into the weirdest conversations around here.


Happy Monday, y'all. ~LA

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