Monday, May 4, 2009

Weekend Round Up: I Still Don't Have Any Red Boots UPDATED WITH PEE PEE RANKINGS


This weekend was a perfect mashup of the real, the unreal, and the surreal. The Actor was away on a band trip until late Saturday night. The Dancer was booked up with her last high school performances on Friday and Saturday night and Friday night found MathMan and me fidgeting grumpily on hard, small benches that double as lunchroom tables and benches at Garbo's elementary school. It was the annual "talent" show.

As we squirmed and hissed gripes to each other and checked our phones for any text that could distract us from our skin-peeling boredom, countless numbers of sweet, well-loved children attempted to sing over the voices of the artists who made today's pop songs pop.

Think karaoke without the beer, drunks, hot wings and Hooters Girls.

Pardon me for saying this, but it was brutal. Of course, being a biased mama, I'm confident that Garbo and her BFF K were the best singers, performing in tune and quite confidently to a current Miley Cyrus hit. But this highlight of our evening was just one teeny fraction of a moment in the midst of so many where I wished that I could be anywhere but there.

Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of Garbo, who flat out sparkled on stage, and I did enjoy the songs crooned by the Bus Driver Who Stole the Show, but when the program was over and the assistant principal announced that the we should stay put because we were under a tornado warning, I thought it was the cruelest joke ever. I believe I made some kind of gurgling noises of dissatisfaction and threw questioning glances at MathMan. "What do we do now?" I asked, my eyebrows raised in a full on RESCUE US expression.

MathMan was decisive. "We're outta here." Was his pronouncement. Halfway through the parking lot, we heard the severe weather sirens blaring. We rounded the edge of the school where we could see the horizon and it was black with clouds that made an ominous wall. Having experienced tornadoes as a kid and again just last year, I'm just a tad weary of them. I could feel my adrenaline spiking.

Lightening backlit the clouds as we watched in awe. Now we could see in front of the black wall fingerlets of clouds breaking out and moving swiftly over the murky backdrop. We broke into a run to the car. Garbo got there first.

After we clambered in and buckled in, the question remained. What now? We, like so many others who'd abandoned the school (which happens to seem like a tornado magnet - its pavilion was obliterated in last year's storms and its roof was lifted off and returned just slightly out of place), drove quickly and as safely as we could to the exit and then turned on to the main road, wondering where in the hell to go? Off to the west, the wall of black, swirling clouds inched closer. "We don't want to go home," MathMan said pointing toward the clouds that were swallowing up Plant Bowen, our neighbor.

We got to the intersection of the main road. "Which way?" I asked. I really wasn't sure what to do and I was driving. Again, MathMan was decisive. "Towards town," he instructed me.

Now I like to drive fast, but I save my fastest driving for when I am alone. It is one thing to endanger me. It's something quite different to endanger my loved ones. But Friday, I drove as fast as I've ever driven. My eyes were glued to the road and my knuckles stood out stark white against the dark grey leather of the steering wheel. MathMan and Garbo scanned the skies for danger.

With each blaze of lightening, I imagined a swirling giant of destruction bearing down on us. The drive had the surreal quality of a dream because I do often dream of tornadoes. We decided that the best thing to do would be to meet The Dancer at the performing arts center. As if on cue, she called and told us that they were in intermission and waiting for more news about the weather.

Just as we got to the PAC the front edge of the storm was upon us. The wind whipped and the lightening crackled in the air and felt too close for comfort. Thunder rumbled overhead as MathMan took Garbo's hand and ran toward the building with me following closely behind.

Thankfully, the front passed as we waited inside. The electricity flickered and then went out, leaving us sitting against the wall in the dusky glow of emergency lighting with all the attendees of the performance. I remembered again that I really want to get a flashlight for my purse. Just in case. (Read MathMan's version here.)

The performance was suspended and the dancers were sent home. The Dancer was miffed because the two pieces she'd choreographed were in the second part of the show. Nevertheless, she seemed glad to drive home with her dad riding shotgun and Garbo in the backseat recounting the wild ride from earlier.

Me? I stopped for pizza and tried to get my heart rate back to normal. The tornado that touched down didn't do much damage and there we no injuries thank goodness. We'd all live another day to sit in the basement (on Sunday afternoon) while the sirens went off once again. (Enough already! We get it - the weather is a powerful force in our lives. Can we go back to the drought now?)

Saturday was full of family snark time and finally a chance to see The Dancer's performance. I think that deserves its own post. We got The Actor back in one piece and were grateful that we hadn't gotten a huffy call about his behavior during his trip. He came back with voice rough from screaming and loads of stories about roller coaster rides and other off color, adolescent things. Fast forward....

Sunday was a day of more family time in which we went to the mall (a rare event for this family, I tell you what) because I decided it was time to treat myself to some new skin care products. A pumice stone and Vaseline just aren't doing the trick anymore. Naturally, a trip to get mama something is an invitation to all to outstretch their little hands and beg for some new clothes.

Honestly, I can't complain. Compared to the way I was raised (if you daddy's going to work 16 hours a day, I'm going to spend that money), our Spawn rarely go shopping. They've learned that we only go when absolutely necessary and even then a budget is established. I don't mean to sound defensive here, but after all we've been through financially, it seems odd to even go to the mall. The one thing these kids will never confuse is entertainment and shopping.

The drive to and from the mall did not include outrunning threatening and severe weather (that came shortly after we arrived home), but it did include a segment that went unrecorded, thank goodness? The Actor detailed his adventures during the band trip and explained how he and his friends had watched Manswers on the Spike Channel. I could tell by the name Manswers that no good was going to come from this. But then, I have radar like that. Plus I'm married to a man who calls Lifetime Channel Vagina T.V., so it's not often that something so blatantly gender-biased would be missed by anyone in our family.

And y'all know we don't do nearly enough to shelter The Spawn from the realities of, well, anything......

Apparently Manswers had important biological information about why spanking is, in fact, sexually stimulating. The program also provided detailed information about average penis size and size ranking among the world's nationalities. (FOLLOW THIS LINK FOR RANKING INFO)

Not one to allow her children to think they are anywhere near sexperts yet, I had my comeback ready within nanoseconds of the average penis size pronouncements. After nudging MathMan in a "see, I told you so, you are too above average" way, I glanced at my self-satisfied son in the rearview mirror. He loves shock value as much as his mama does. Then breezily, I quipped "I would agree with those findings, based on my informal studies of individual penises."

They tell us that The Actor's hysterical blindness is only temporary and that, when his sight returns, I might want to refrain from mentioning myself and the male organ in the same sentence.

We'll see............

* Ranking info provided because of loud outcry for details. I assume you wanted the info provided by The Actor and not from my informal studies....

36 comments:

  1. omg this is scarily hysterical...i am not sure how you weave your tales between terror and shrieking hysteria [in a good way] but don't give up doing it and get any work done, ok?...firstly, having never experienced a tornado and freak at the slightest increase in windspeed, i don't know why anyone lives in half the country if not more, maybe 2/3's? those freaky things are enough to scare the pants off me and that's a lot of fear........and then to try and outrun it is just plain crazy-making but maybe i don't get how they really "work"? or don't work? sheesh...

    glad the darling garbo, who is the apple of my eye in your family besides her mother, did so beautifully in her performance...of course we would expect nothing less...but your last little bit on quipping about the hysterical blindness of your son just about tossed me right to the floor when spasmodic laughter erupted and my daughter ran in to see if i was OK!

    now, i will just lay here and calm down for awhile, thinking about how nice i am older than you and my kids are all grown up [well, they look like it anyway].

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  2. I think you should share the nationality ranking findings. You know, for the sake of scientific study & all. :)

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  3. My lord Lisa!!! You just crack me up. You can go from terror from the storms to nationality penis rankings in one post........that is a gift. I agree with Kate, inquiring minds want to know!

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  4. That post was a tornado of action, information and hilarity. I'm spinning.

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  5. Woman..you outdid yourself this weekend! Brava, Brava!!!!

    Damn, it has to be interesting as hell to live with three children and a husband.

    I only had one child and ditched the husband shortly after the child turned 7. My son was like a short adult most of his childhood, and it is most likely MY FAULT! Ah..worse things could happen I guess..like the part in the movie Twister where cows fly by.. ;)

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  6. Nice.

    I loved the link to the penis study. Especially the part where they were unable to provide data for certain nationalities' flaccid length. NA? What, are Greeks, Germans, Brazilians, etc. always sporting a hardon?

    Ah! I feel hysterical blindness overtaking me.

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  7. I am glad I am of German descent.

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  8. There is no question about Garbo's duet. I don't have perfect pitch but the singing was absolutely painful for me. And who says those other kids are loved? Loving parents would not put their children on the chopping block like that. If their kids had talent they would already be in the performing arts activities.

    The drive - it remindered me of twister. You were Helen Hunt again and I was Bill Paxson not Paul Riser. Thanks for calling my post a description of the drive. You are so complementary.

    And that that size thing. Ok, I finally believe you but I don't believe the French. What say you?

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  9. MathMan, I think a peer review is in order. What is their n?

    OMG, I just looked up Dr. Eduardo whatshisname. He has developed a penis extender. SizeGenetics is all about enlargement. It may not be that the French are naturally endowed thusly.

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  10. OH Hell with tornadoes and storms...let's talk penises!!! I am not telling you which country I may move to....hmmmmm!

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  11. Just wondering if exaggeration is common in certain cultures...

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  12. I think it's funny that after outrunning a potentially deadly storm, you tagged this post, "Family, Sex." Lol. Priorities?

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  13. Funny as hell on so many levels!
    I see the mental picture of a karaoke without beer wings or hooter girls, and I squirm,.
    Then I hear the "stay put" announcement and I squirm some more

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  14. I'll take earthquakes over tornadoes every time, and tornadoes over school talent shows any day.

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  15. Glad you're all safe
    Tell the actor he is not the first son to suffer from that type of hysterical blindness!

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  16. I haven't looked at the penis size link. Yet. This may mean that I am now officially old and no longer care about penises at all. Not to say I don't like men, but since I have become a virgin again I just have no interest in the actual member, or even the theoretical penis. But I'm happy for Mathman that he is bigger than the average penis.

    Kudos on you storm chaser driving.

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  17. I am hollering for you when it's time to teach Nooze the birds and the bees.

    Thanks to an errant sighting of "A Baby Story", my daughter is convinced that babies come out of your butt.

    Quite frankly, I am just fine with that belief.

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  18. If my mother had said such a thing to me, I would still be incapable of an erection. Shame on you. Or not.

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  19. That whole tornado thing sounds scary, but so does listening to another dozen kids singing this

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  20. I am going to guess that the average total mass of the male privates is some kind of constant, which I believe (if the penis stats are to be believed) explains the French figures. Do the math...

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  21. We had tornadoes a few hours earlier than you all. One passed right overhead and didn't touch down. I was very lucky.

    25 miles away, however, where it finally touched down, they were not quite so lucky. Trees were down, buildings were damaged, and power was out.

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  22. 15 years of New England winter nor' easters and occasional summer hurricanes were weather excitement enough for me. Glad you all got home safe (if not thoroughly entertained).

    Urology was an interesting field too with lots of calls about size issues (but never from women). The impotence specialist once told me it's big enough if the guy doesn't have to sit down to pee.

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  23. I had a gay man give me the penis length run down. He said no one came close to Puerto Ricans (although cubans would claim the title of the world's biggest), and that if one was interested in western Europeans, then one should (generalizing here) focus on Scots, Italians and Poles. I can only use this information as interesting party chatter, but everyone else can use it as they wish. Oh, and he got the information first hand. Had to add that.

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  24. lol....hysterical blindness, i can't stop laughing...some kids deserve this temporarily don't they? you go mommy :))

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  25. Oh my God, that is too funny! :) I never heard of Manswers--I'll have to tell Iwanski about that.

    Sorry to hear about the crazy weather you've been having--and by the way, I often dream about tornadoes, too! I theorize that we women that multitask far too much are like "tornadoes" in our waking lives--and when it gets to be too much, we start dreaming about tornadoes. Whaddaya think? :)

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  26. Hey there lisa..so good to know that you got through the storm okay..( I will bet anything- mrdoomsday above me looks for disaster posts - or near diaster posts to leave his blathering- lord have mercy if I wanted to hear such drivel I can turn on FOX...lordy.....)
    I too hate tornados....wicked scary stuff..

    anyways hang in there....

    ;-)

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  27. First of all, who's the windbag commenting with all that insane jibber jabber? Were we supposed to read all that? As if.
    Second, I'm not exactly an authority on penis size, but I must have really lucked out back in my straight days.
    I never encountered a man with a penis smaller than 6 inches.
    The average was 7.5, as I recall.

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  28. There's a wrestling character in here somewhere, The Penis Tornado.

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  29. Wow...I know my posts tend to run on the long side, but I swear that wasn't me...

    I don't know that I've ever heard a story to match one that starts at a school recital, ends with the ranking of penis sizes, and has a tornado right smack dab in the middle...my own daughter's dance recital is fast approaching...somehow I do not think it will quite measure up to this (except for the part my little girl is in).

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  30. My mother just forwarded a joke that fits nicely here:



    A man wakes up in the hospital, bandaged from head to foot. The doctor comes in and says, 'Ah, I see you've regained consciousness. Now, you probably won't remember, but you were in a pile-up on the freeway. You're going to be okay, you'll walk again and everything, but . . . something happened. I'm trying to break this gently, but the fact is, your willy was chopped off in the wreck and we were unable to find it.'
    The man groans, but the doctor goes on, 'You've got $9000 in insurance compensation coming and we have the technology now to build you a new willy that will work as well as your old one did -better in fact! But the thing is, it doesn't come cheap. It's $1000 an inch.'
    The man perks up at this. 'So,' the doctor says, 'it's for you to decide how many inches you want. But it's something you'd better discuss with your wife. I mean, if you had a five inch one before, and you decide to go for a nine incher, she might be a bit put out. But if you had a nine inch one before,and you decide only to invest in a five incher this time, she might be disappointed. So it's important that she plays a role in helping you make the decision.'
    The man agrees to talk with his wife. The doctor comes back the next day.'So,' says the doctor, 'have you spoken with your wife?' 'I have,' says the man. 'And has she helped you in making the decision?'' Yes, she has,' says the man. 'And what is it?' asks the doctor.

    'We're getting granite countertops.'

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  31. I will admit, upfront, that I had to check out the pee pee statistics. I'm feeling very sorry for Korean women right now.

    This post was nonstop drama -- with so much great, colorful writing. I'm glad that you outran that tornado and lived to write another day!

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  32. "We're getting granite countertops."

    LMAO!! Not in my house, you wouldn't.

    I am quite partial to the Scottish sausage. Nothing like it on earth. Why do you think they wear kilts, anyway? Plenty of room and easy access.

    I second the notion of earthquakes over tornadoes. I'd rather run outside to get away from danger than have to find a place to hide indoors until the wind dies down. But hey, this is California where the weather is good 10 months of the year, so it's no big deal to be stuck outside.

    As for kids and their school performances... oh yeah, I hear you. Next time bring ear plugs so you won't have to hear THEM.

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  33. You should have gotten your revenge by videotaping the talent show. You could torture your children with it for YEARS.

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  34. Who is France kidding. That has to be in centimeters when it comes to their ranking.

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