Q: "Will I ever have an uneventful year? Even just a month of nothing crazy happening?"
A: "I have been to the land of happy-what a bore!"
I'll take that as a no.....
Friday, May 28, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
100 Plays
I am taking a play writing class in July. Why plays? That is a good question. Could it be because I am such an attention seeking melodramatic person? Could it be that I love going to plays and always have? Or could it be that that was the only summer class that fit my schedule and I REALLY want some time to myself that is NOT work? Most likely-a combination of all three. So play writing it is. It could easily have been ceramics or auto mechanics, perhaps even yoga. BUT-since this class fit the times, this was the winner.
Here is where my mega memory kicks in. I haven't taken a writing class since high school- and Crying Daddy was in the same class. Maybe that was when we learned our blogging skills. I doubt it, as it was 1991 and who had ever heard the term blog? Sounds like something you would throw up. That creative writing class was interesting. One girl in it grew up to be an English professor at Vanderbilt. I was lucky enough to sit in front of the guy who wrote country music songs for all of his assignments. There was also another girl who saved all of her money to buy a motorcycle and then she dropped out of school and drove off on it. North Carolina sure was a great place to grow up.
The teacher was a little bit better off than the students. She assigned us a short story to write, but BEFORE we could start to write it, we had to read 100 short stories. Yes, that sounds like a treat to me now, but at the time my sixteen year old self did not want to read 100 short stories when I could have been watching Star Trek the Next Generation on the couch. Does anyone else wish they could go back in time and turn in old assignments? Is that way too nerdy of me?
I sort of get my chance. By the end of this summer class, I will have written a play. Please don't anyone spit their drink out of their nose-but yes, I will have one work written by July 31st-I'll give it to Harry Potter for his birthday. I got inspired from the wisdom of the old teacher and her philosophy. I have set a goal for myself. Before I start the class, I need to read 100 plays! That sounds horrible for a working mom of three, but think about it. Plays are short, plays are fast paced, and plays are designed for a wide range of people to come and enjoy. So I can do this. I have already read four in less than a week. Plays are perfect "mommy reading" because they go so fast.
Here are my first four:
1) Our Town. They did this one on Growing Pains and The Wonder Years. I think my 81 year old grandmother played Emily when she was in high school or college. Yes, it is a popular one because you don't need a lot of scenery. We definitely need to appreciate life while we live it, I get it, I get it!
2) Love Letters. I saw this one in high school, my BFF just went to see it a few weeks ago. I loved it because of its simplicity. You don't even really have to memorize it. Just sit there and read the letters. I also like the Forest Gump/Jenny theme it had going on. You are so used to a "good girl" falling in love with a "bad boy" that when the roles are reversed you pay closer attention.
3) How I Learned To Drive. Ok, this is one of those plays my freshman roommate would have looked at me in horror for suggesting we go see. It was really good, although it dealt with sexual abuse as compared to learning to drive a car and who is and is not in control. Very much a "fun" in dysfunctional kind of performance. Miss Weeds herself Mary-Louise Parker had the lead when it opened!
4) The Mineola Twins. Great play about twin sisters that represent different roles women have in three different decades. The writer is Yale faculty. Wish I could meet her!
As I read them, I'll post more of them here and there in between the grocery store diaries. I only ask that people DO NOT recommend plays to me. I want to pick them on my own-and yes, I am going to include some Shakespeare, Eugene O'Neil, and Tennessee Williams in my list. Must have the big wigs represented.
And IF my play is good enough, I'll make my girlfriends act it out this summer and we'll post it on youtube. Just you wait!
Here is where my mega memory kicks in. I haven't taken a writing class since high school- and Crying Daddy was in the same class. Maybe that was when we learned our blogging skills. I doubt it, as it was 1991 and who had ever heard the term blog? Sounds like something you would throw up. That creative writing class was interesting. One girl in it grew up to be an English professor at Vanderbilt. I was lucky enough to sit in front of the guy who wrote country music songs for all of his assignments. There was also another girl who saved all of her money to buy a motorcycle and then she dropped out of school and drove off on it. North Carolina sure was a great place to grow up.
The teacher was a little bit better off than the students. She assigned us a short story to write, but BEFORE we could start to write it, we had to read 100 short stories. Yes, that sounds like a treat to me now, but at the time my sixteen year old self did not want to read 100 short stories when I could have been watching Star Trek the Next Generation on the couch. Does anyone else wish they could go back in time and turn in old assignments? Is that way too nerdy of me?
I sort of get my chance. By the end of this summer class, I will have written a play. Please don't anyone spit their drink out of their nose-but yes, I will have one work written by July 31st-I'll give it to Harry Potter for his birthday. I got inspired from the wisdom of the old teacher and her philosophy. I have set a goal for myself. Before I start the class, I need to read 100 plays! That sounds horrible for a working mom of three, but think about it. Plays are short, plays are fast paced, and plays are designed for a wide range of people to come and enjoy. So I can do this. I have already read four in less than a week. Plays are perfect "mommy reading" because they go so fast.
Here are my first four:
1) Our Town. They did this one on Growing Pains and The Wonder Years. I think my 81 year old grandmother played Emily when she was in high school or college. Yes, it is a popular one because you don't need a lot of scenery. We definitely need to appreciate life while we live it, I get it, I get it!
2) Love Letters. I saw this one in high school, my BFF just went to see it a few weeks ago. I loved it because of its simplicity. You don't even really have to memorize it. Just sit there and read the letters. I also like the Forest Gump/Jenny theme it had going on. You are so used to a "good girl" falling in love with a "bad boy" that when the roles are reversed you pay closer attention.
3) How I Learned To Drive. Ok, this is one of those plays my freshman roommate would have looked at me in horror for suggesting we go see. It was really good, although it dealt with sexual abuse as compared to learning to drive a car and who is and is not in control. Very much a "fun" in dysfunctional kind of performance. Miss Weeds herself Mary-Louise Parker had the lead when it opened!
4) The Mineola Twins. Great play about twin sisters that represent different roles women have in three different decades. The writer is Yale faculty. Wish I could meet her!
As I read them, I'll post more of them here and there in between the grocery store diaries. I only ask that people DO NOT recommend plays to me. I want to pick them on my own-and yes, I am going to include some Shakespeare, Eugene O'Neil, and Tennessee Williams in my list. Must have the big wigs represented.
And IF my play is good enough, I'll make my girlfriends act it out this summer and we'll post it on youtube. Just you wait!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Free Therapy!
Now that I have your attention:
My kids picked Shel Silverstein poems for their bedtime story tonight. Talk about the Children’s Literature Canon! I can’t think of another child’s poet off the top of my head this instant. Who doesn’t have some of his more famous poems memorized? When my kids and I read them, we don’t go in order and we don’t stick to one book. We flip through all three and read them out loud based on the title, the picture, or one of mommy’s memories.
To say Shel was talented is to write one of my bigger understatements of the month. Not only did he give us three volumes of incredible poetry, but how many women get The Giving Tree as a shower gift? That one is definitely on top of the “Good Mommy” list. You know I model my daily comings and goings after that tree. Ha! I would have been chucking apples at that kid’s head to knock some sense in him. You know you need a night off when you shriek at the children, “Sit down and listen mommy read The Giving Tree, you little brats!" I know someone somewhere has felt that way even if I am the only one who is going to fess up.
Reading any of those poems is hysterical and I am going to transcribe some poems with my own children’s interjections eventually. but tonight, I had one of my “Epiphanies.” People don’t need to pay for therapy and some of them could possibly skip a religious service if they just paid attention to Shel.
I thought I would share this scene from "Snowman." He wants to experience all the summer has to offer:
Seasons come and seasons go,
And the greatest ice must crumble
When it’s flowers’ time to grow.
And as one thing is beginning
So another thing must die,
And there’s never been a snowman
Who has ever seen July.
This is my problem. This sums me up. I'm never ready for the next phase of my life when it happens. What do you mean we are moving? What do you mean autism? What do you mean the boys need distance? I want a snowman in July. I have always wanted a snowman in July. I used to wear jeans in the North Carolina summer-you can ask all the kids in the neighborhood that used to tease me about it. Of course now that I live in Connecticut, I might see one in July yet.
I remember in the novel Running with Scissors, Augusten Burroughs talked of "Bible Dipping." That is when you ask a question, flip through the bible, and point anywhere inside it. Then the line you landed on answers your question.
I'm going to try this with Where the Sidewalk Ends and get back to Y'all....
My kids picked Shel Silverstein poems for their bedtime story tonight. Talk about the Children’s Literature Canon! I can’t think of another child’s poet off the top of my head this instant. Who doesn’t have some of his more famous poems memorized? When my kids and I read them, we don’t go in order and we don’t stick to one book. We flip through all three and read them out loud based on the title, the picture, or one of mommy’s memories.
To say Shel was talented is to write one of my bigger understatements of the month. Not only did he give us three volumes of incredible poetry, but how many women get The Giving Tree as a shower gift? That one is definitely on top of the “Good Mommy” list. You know I model my daily comings and goings after that tree. Ha! I would have been chucking apples at that kid’s head to knock some sense in him. You know you need a night off when you shriek at the children, “Sit down and listen mommy read The Giving Tree, you little brats!" I know someone somewhere has felt that way even if I am the only one who is going to fess up.
Reading any of those poems is hysterical and I am going to transcribe some poems with my own children’s interjections eventually. but tonight, I had one of my “Epiphanies.” People don’t need to pay for therapy and some of them could possibly skip a religious service if they just paid attention to Shel.
I thought I would share this scene from "Snowman." He wants to experience all the summer has to offer:
Seasons come and seasons go,
And the greatest ice must crumble
When it’s flowers’ time to grow.
And as one thing is beginning
So another thing must die,
And there’s never been a snowman
Who has ever seen July.
This is my problem. This sums me up. I'm never ready for the next phase of my life when it happens. What do you mean we are moving? What do you mean autism? What do you mean the boys need distance? I want a snowman in July. I have always wanted a snowman in July. I used to wear jeans in the North Carolina summer-you can ask all the kids in the neighborhood that used to tease me about it. Of course now that I live in Connecticut, I might see one in July yet.
I remember in the novel Running with Scissors, Augusten Burroughs talked of "Bible Dipping." That is when you ask a question, flip through the bible, and point anywhere inside it. Then the line you landed on answers your question.
I'm going to try this with Where the Sidewalk Ends and get back to Y'all....
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
God bless...
1) Friends that will drop what they are doing and pick up your child from school when you are hysterical.
2) Coffee-Starbucks, McDonalds, Instant, whatever...
3) High School Musical and its ability to keep my children engaged when I have to do the bills, the taxes, or any other paperwork that requires my undivided attention.
4) Oatmeal with walnuts, craisins, and a little vanilla yogurt.
5) Last but not least...LITERAL VIDEOS!!! Nothing can make me laugh harder on a bad day. I recommend Total Eclipse of the Heart.
2) Coffee-Starbucks, McDonalds, Instant, whatever...
3) High School Musical and its ability to keep my children engaged when I have to do the bills, the taxes, or any other paperwork that requires my undivided attention.
4) Oatmeal with walnuts, craisins, and a little vanilla yogurt.
5) Last but not least...LITERAL VIDEOS!!! Nothing can make me laugh harder on a bad day. I recommend Total Eclipse of the Heart.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The BEST of the WORST
God laughs at plans-even blog plans. I was planning a "State of the Union of Motherhood" kind of post today and it was going to have people rolling on the floor laughing. As I was working on it-I'm not kidding, the timing was perfect, I got a call from someone to discuss my son's behavior. I don't want to say too much because I don't like to violate anyone's privacy but my own, but he hurt his best friend's feelings and I'm terrified the damage is done. This also means the damage is done between me and this mother-and I considered her one of my best friends in Connecticut. After I hung up with her, I wanted to drop kick him all the way back to North Carolina and be an uber cool "double income no kids" couple again. Actually, I don't think we ever were that couple because we had the kids the minute grad school was over.
Anyway...
I'm sure when she is done reading this, my mom is going to send me an email and rattle off every little thing I ever did to make her look like a fool. Including, but not limited to, the blue dress I wore on May day that was two sizes too small for me and ripped half way around the May pole. There was also the Christmas day I spent in my room for refusing to apologize to my father's sister. (I told her to shut up-and to anyone who knew her, I was a brave little preschooler, wasn't I?) I haven't even gotten into all the damage I did at my house or other people's. I mean come on, so I opened all the Christmas presents at a play date when I was three? Buy gift bags next time...
The other factor is no matter how many adults come and go from someone's life-people turn to mom first. Last summer when my daughter sneaked out the back door there were four adults in the house and all of us thought someone else had her, but when the cops brought her back from a neighbor's house, I was the one they shot daggers at. Ugh....if I had known the police were going to hate me eventually anyway I would have partied harder in high school.
Crap is going to happen no matter how hard you try to keep it going smoothly. Why? Because our kids are humans. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just lug around little cabbage patch dolls that did exactly what we asked? That would wear the clothes we picked out for them? That would say "Yes please" and "Yum, those carrots were delicious, thank you." Every time we served them?
Um, no-where is the fun in that? One of my mottoes for life comes from Woody Allen. Woody says that Comedy = Tragedy + Time. He has no idea how right he is. Time is one thing we definitely have. This is why we parents get our own special days. We need them to recover from the lows that come with it every now and then.
No worries please-I'll save the belly laughs for tomorrow.
Anyway...
I'm sure when she is done reading this, my mom is going to send me an email and rattle off every little thing I ever did to make her look like a fool. Including, but not limited to, the blue dress I wore on May day that was two sizes too small for me and ripped half way around the May pole. There was also the Christmas day I spent in my room for refusing to apologize to my father's sister. (I told her to shut up-and to anyone who knew her, I was a brave little preschooler, wasn't I?) I haven't even gotten into all the damage I did at my house or other people's. I mean come on, so I opened all the Christmas presents at a play date when I was three? Buy gift bags next time...
The other factor is no matter how many adults come and go from someone's life-people turn to mom first. Last summer when my daughter sneaked out the back door there were four adults in the house and all of us thought someone else had her, but when the cops brought her back from a neighbor's house, I was the one they shot daggers at. Ugh....if I had known the police were going to hate me eventually anyway I would have partied harder in high school.
Crap is going to happen no matter how hard you try to keep it going smoothly. Why? Because our kids are humans. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just lug around little cabbage patch dolls that did exactly what we asked? That would wear the clothes we picked out for them? That would say "Yes please" and "Yum, those carrots were delicious, thank you." Every time we served them?
Um, no-where is the fun in that? One of my mottoes for life comes from Woody Allen. Woody says that Comedy = Tragedy + Time. He has no idea how right he is. Time is one thing we definitely have. This is why we parents get our own special days. We need them to recover from the lows that come with it every now and then.
No worries please-I'll save the belly laughs for tomorrow.
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