DadaMama

Here Is Your Happy Thought

Joy

Today was a shitty day. I don't like to use that word, but there it is. I mean, today had its high points but mostly it sucked and so I leave you with this:

Child

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new

Whose name you meditate --
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

--Sylvia Plath

A Meme

This meme is via my lovely friend Tia on Facebook. I thought it was a good idea: 15 plays I've seen/read/been part of that will always stick with me. (I am not an actress like Tia, more like a theater wannabe, so I'm not sure I can come up with 15. But I will try)

1. Phantom of the Opera: My mom took me to the Bob Carr Performing Arts Center when I was a kid (11 or 12, maybe? I think I was in middle school?) and it blew my mind. When the chandelier fallsfrom the ceiling as the phantom hits that huge note? I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I have always loved a good musical, but this pretty much sealed the deal. I listened to the soundtrack pretty obsessively as a teenager, much to my sister's chagrin.

2. RENT: I saw this with Jerky Ex-Boyfriend. He took me for my birthday. Despite the company, I loved every minute of it. "Seasons of Love" is a reason to go on living. Seriously.

3. CATS: I also saw this with Jerky Ex-Boyfriend when we took a trip to NY. It was still in the Winter Garden Theater then, and we sat kind of off to the right side of the stage, where we could see the actors coming and going. Rum Tum Tugger winked at me and I almost died of FanGirl Happiness. "Memory" is kind of overplayed and obnoxious in most settings, but live? That woman brought. down. the. house. I walked out of that theater with chills.

4. Hysteria: This was another I attended with J.E.B., who at the time was taking some college psychology course or something. The professor was giving extra credit to those who saw the play. The premise--Salvador Dali meets Sigmund Freud (and hilarity ensues)--was so outlandish that I couldn't help but love it.

5. Bat Boy: The Musical: So, the Weekly World News has always had a special place in my heart. Because it's real! news! The recurring stories about Bat Boy were turned into a wacky, tasteless, completely-over-the-top musical that I adored. Even better: a few years later, Dashing Husband and I were at a cabaret dinner theater in Maine (where the waiters and waitresses performed live musical versions of beloved Broadway songs) and it turned out the piano player had just come off a production of Bat Boy. He knew all the songs, and played "Hold Me, Bat Boy" when we tipped him. That pretty much ruled.

6. The Diary of Anne Frank: I'll be honest and say that I wasn't jazzed about this play, and that I only went because I needed the extra credit in my History of the Holocaust class. But I ended up liking it because it pushed me out of my comfort zone, which I think is an important element of drama and live performances. I knew how it would end, which didn't make it any easier to watch--but I've never forgotten it, either.

7. The Crucible: My dear friend Marnie had an extra ticket to this one at our local community theater, so I went along. I'd never seen or read it ... and I came out of the theater feeling all crawly. Arthur Miller makes me squirm. I was so thunderstruck by this play that I didn't even really want to talk about it when it was over.  I won't forget this one, either.

8. Peter Pan: This was another local playhouse production. While the acting was phenomenol, I'm not overly fond of the story. The reason this play will always be memorable, though, is because of what happened afterwards. We entered the lobby and all the actors were there, shaking hands. My children swore allegiance to the Lost Boys, eschewing the dastardly Captain Hook--and Peter Pan gave them fairy dust of their very own. Now we can fly anywhere.

So. That's my list. It is dreadfully short, so my next project is to see more live theater. Thanks for the idea, Tia!

I Told You This Was Going in the Display; And So It Has.

Today is my little sister's birthday. She's 28. But don't tell her I told you that, because she has vowed to remain 25 forever.

Here are some things you should know about my sister:

1. She is a world-class smartass.

2. She would give you the shirt off her back if she thought it would help you.

3. She chooses to give people the benefit of the doubt, even if they don't necessarily deserve it.

4. She has always been thinner and more popular than me. I can't hate her for it, though (see #2 and #3).

5. She is addicted to Moe's burritoes.

6. She thinks running uphill pushing a double jogging stroller is a wonderful idea.

7. She is the strongest person I know, and not really because of the double jogging stroller.

 

Happy Birthday, Little Sister. You'll always be nicer than me.

Shameless Appropriation

Gwendomama, you are a genius. The time-out journal will be appearing at my house within the hour.

It's Frickin' Freezin' In Here, Mr. Bigglesworth

 

Impossible icicles are the very best kind.

An Unexpected Gift

A couple of weeks ago, my friend SaraMarie (who I once  in my post-baby-birthing  fog saw at Target and called "Sara," even though that's not her name; this has bothered me ever since ... oh hai! welcome to my crazy!) sent a box with strict instructions to not open it until Christmas. Despite being incredibly nosy and impatient, I set it aside to place under my Christmas tree.

And then I forgot about it. Until yesterday. Yesterday I found the present on my desk, and realized it was time to move it. Will, ever my helper, put it under the tree for me.

Today I went by the tree while I was cleaning the living room, and noticed that the present was missing its bow. When I picked it up, I realized it had been opened. From the looks of it, the present had been carefully opened and then set aside when the guilty boy realized it was not for him. Of course, upon further investigation, it appears the culprit was Not Me. It could have been Superbaby, but the bow was intact and surprisingly slobber free.

But that's not the story. The story is that when I looked at the opened gift, I saw that SaraMarie had sent me a coffee mug--a Shakespearean Insults coffee mug. You have no idea how this makes my day. Now I'll be giggling while I drink my coffee every morning. I'll be well armed for future verbal combat. So watch out, you rampallian! Thou art a boil, a plague sore! What's in your head? Not so much brain as ear wax!

It's seriously The Perfect Gift because a) it's hilarious b) I never would have bought it for myself but I needed it all the same c) it's useful d) it suits me (coffee drinker AND nerdy literary wannabe) and e) my husband covets it. So, thanks, SaraMarie! Also, thanks to those meddling kids I call my sons! It's shaping up to be a lovely Christmas indeed.

I Share This With You Because I Love You

May the rings of the Geats be never on your finger, and may a Scylding strike you down.

You Need to Meet Allison

I've known her since 8th grade. Half my life! (Almost.) She's funny. Her smart-ass tendencies are highly developed. I love her.

Evidence: this conversation we had on Facebook. You see, on Facebook, when you list yourself as married, there is a posting that makes it look recent. Even if you've been married almost eight years, like Allison.

DadaMama: congrats on your marriage to Marc

Allison: Thanks! Yeah we dated for, like, 15 years

DadaMama: wow, glad you finally made it official ... TOO BAD I WASNT INVITED

Allison: we figured it was time to take the plunge

DadaMama: crazy kids

Allison: we eloped, vegas style

DadaMama: did you have an Elvis impersonator? because I feel that that really takes eloping up a notch

Allison: we had a choir of elvis impersonators, they sang "i cant help falling in love with you"

 

 

Best Picture Ever

My friend Marc is a photographer. He's good. I mean, just try and tell me this is not the cutest picture of two little boys you've ever seen. Go ahead, try. You can't do it.

Anyway, I'm off to drink a tall glass of milk and feel sorry for myself because I miss Dashing Husband and I am very, very tired.

A Tribute to Excess

We had a totally awesome Christmas at Chez Dada.

I got a Wii. Which explains why my husband mysteriously arose at 3 am on the day after Thanksgiving to go shopping. He stood in line for me, a line in which only eleven people were going to get something. He was number two.

I love that man.

I also got a photo-editing program (thanks, Chris!), a set of the Discovery Channel Blue Planet DVDs (thanks Rick and Susan), a zoom lens for my digital camera (thanks Mom and Dad!), my very own copy of Knocked Up (thanks Ryan and Jen!) and a book of adorable little baby things to knit (thanks, Jacqui!).

I am a lucky girl.

The children got everything they wanted, and some stuff they didn't know they needed until they unwrapped the boxes and their heads exploded. Gus got an Ultimate Bumblebee the size of my Prius (from Nanny and Granddaddy), and little Will looks SO FREAKING ADORABLE in his fire fighter boots I can barely stand it.

Many thanks to my sister (the Spiderman Web Blaster was a huge hit), Nana and Cheez (the bestowers of many Matchbox cars AND track to drive them on), and Uncle Ryan and Jen (for the Space Heroes and the Bionicle). Will received a fabulous outfit from his Uncle Robert (it has a tiny little tie) and Gus got the Lightning McQueen pjs he's been dreaming of.

It's a boy's world over here!