It's my ass, not yours!

I love Disneyland. I really do. It is the most wonderful place on earth. That said, I ave to admit this last trip was a bit disturbing.

Why you may ask. The park was great. The rides thrilling. The attractions were attractive. The food was edible and pricey.

So what was my problem?

The kids. I know I know. You are thinking that Disneyland is for children. I agree, it is. Actually I think Disneyland is for everyone.. but definitely kids. HOWEVER my ass is not. That's right, my ass is not for kids.

At Disneyland I learned a disturbing fact. My ass is a kid magnet. I started keeping track.. 18 adorable little tykes grabbed my ass at one point or another. Toddlers would grab to hang on in order to walk. I had one kid rub my butt. Another kid put his hand in my back pocket and walked along.

Hello! Private territory there!

And the parents did not seem to mind. That was the creepy part!

The kid who put his hand in my pocket, for instance... his parents were about seven or eight feet behind me... I looked back, and there they were looking... but not doing anything. I had to say "Excuse me, but I think I found one of your children." before they actually did anything.

I have long known that I am adored by kids and animals. I think it is because I am on their intellectual level or something. I have a pretty calming effect on them... but come on! It's my ass people! So your kid is smiling.. so what? Letting your child play with the ass of a stranger is NOT a good thing.

Luckily one of the people I was travelling with is 4 1/2 years old- who has a problem with strange children. When other kids touched my ass, he would stick his hand in their face and say "Go 'way." God I love that little guy. But it is pretty bad when I have to say that my ass was protected by a four year old little guy.

Ok, I am finished ranting. I'm still disturbed and deeply traumatized by this issue, but I am done ranting.

PHOBIAS AND ME

Okay, an uber friend of mine and I were recently comparing phobias. It seems that we share quite a few. Here is my top 10 list of personal phobias.

10) Hidden cameras in public restrooms. It happens. Also, see #3 for further toilet trauma.

9) Ghosts. There is a debate on whether or not ghosts exist. EVP is a recorded (get it?) phenomina. I don't know if they exist or not, but the thought of something undead talking to me.. no. Just... no.

8) Spider-goats. What the fuck were scientists thinking about?? I have a hard time thinking that playing with D.N.A. and splicing it up is a good thing. I watch the Sci-fi channel. I know what happens.

7) Tom Cruise. I know. Silly phobia, but his acting scares the bejesus out of me! The only way someone could get so famous with so little ability.. pact with Satan. After all both Scientology and Satan starts with the letter S! And L. Ron. Hubbard... both the last name (Hubbard) and Hell start with H. Can we get any more clearer folks?

6) Midgits. You all know what I am talking about.

5) Some children that I know of. I swear, if I had not been to their house on a couple of occasions, I would think these kids lived in a corn field.

4) Boats. Face it, horrible things happen on boats. Such as the Titanic, Laci Peterson, and this! (which was recently reported by a friend of mine)

3) Public Toilets. Guys trying to cop a view of my ding-dong in the loo really creep me out. Seriously. When a guy leans over the partition, looks down at my dingleberry, and says "How's it hangin'?" it really freaks me out.

2) Spiders. The Evil One, known as my sister, put spiders on my pillow once, and then work me up. Totally traumatized me for life.

1) Ok my top phobia... CANADIANS. Those of you who know me understand why.

Good kids are hard to find, so keep looking!

Sorry about not posting lately, but after I got back from the Holy Land (a.k.a. Disneyland) things got pretty busy. By the way, photos and stories will be uploaded soon, I promise!

However I had to post this. Last week the library I work at had a class visit. For those of you who do not speak libraryese, what this means is that a classroom of children made a visit to the library.

This time it was a class of second grade kids, so ages about 7 or so. This is an important fact, okay? The kids had a blast, we did a mini-storytime for them, showed them all around the library, and answered any questions that they might have.

One young kid, we will call him Tyler (and, Asian Eddie, it is _not_ that Tyler either, this is a younger version) was asking questions of a coworker of mine, who was already wrangling three other children. So I stepped in. He wanted books on how to speak German, and I thought he was a neat kid... not many want to learn another language at 7. I showed him where the books to learn German were, as well as books on tape and cd, so that he could listen to the sounds of the words. He was really enthusiastic. Then he asked for books about Europe. I showed him the section, and that is when he opened up.

He was so happy, and said that he was German, and wanted to see pictures of where his family came from. Out of all the kids who were running around throwing books around, I got the one kid who really wanted to learn. It was awesome! So I said that I am Irish. His smile got bigger and said that his grandmother was Irish, but the rest of his family was German.

When I asked if he was going to go to Germany sometime for a vacation, he somberly replied, "When I am an adult." This kid was acting so politely, and so mature, I really was impressed by him, and how he was being raised by his family.

But you know what? NEVER EVER make assumptions!!! I forgot that bit of wisdom!

Because next the kid, about 7 remember... told me that if the "coloreds" kept taking over America, he was going to move to Europe.

I was so freaking shocked by the little Nazi, I went in back, and told a co-worker. She took a look outside the door and said the kid had been snotty to her.

On his way out, he stopped, and tanked me for all the help I had given him, and said that if I wanted to know, his name was Tyler. Another coworker of mine, who had heard the tale by that time, said "I guess he can tell you his name, since you are white."

He's seven... and already has attitudes like that. Just shoot the parents.

A family get-together, a lesson in manners

Well yesterday I attended one of the most dreaded events of the year- a family get-together. It was a relative's birthday, and almost all of my very extensive family was in there. We are talking about close to forty people actually showing up.

As with all family affairs, our clan has various traditions that we adhere to rigorously. I used to think that my family was very dysfunctional, and that these traditions were very self-destructive, but over the course of time, I have realize that this is not so. Yes my family is moronic. Yes they are irritating, embarrassing, and sophomoric, but in comparison to lots of families that I know, well they are not that bad, and actually work well together in a twilight zone kind of way.

One thing that I have come to appreciate from my family, is the fact that manners are kind of important.

First off, there is always plenty of alcohol for the adults. Yes, I know that this does not set the best example for the children, but at least it sets a realistic one, as well as a lesson in good manners. When a relative gets obnoxious, do not yell at them or get into a fight or argument, just simply stand up, and excuse yourself with the loud comment of "Does anyone else want another drink?" Not only does this get out out of the idiot's diatribe, but it makes you look hospitable and caring about the needs of other family members.

Second, when two, or more, kids are fighting... NEVER get involved unless you are the parent. I have come to realize that the comment of "They're not my kids," actually translates into "I wish the children would behave, but I will not step on parental-toes, or belittle parenting techniques of others, and instead will relax, knowing that the children will be handled in a responsible, yet supportive fashion, once the parents are made aware of the situation." Yes, I am sure of this translation, and no, the fact that I often hide in delusions to escape stress when dealing with family has nothing to do with this translation. The voices told me so.

Third, if family arguments do happen, my family shows support to both sides by not getting directly involved, or taking sides. Instead someone will step in, near enough to the two combatants to be easily heard, and make a comment about a relative's boss (who most there have met) behaving like an ass to the relative in question, or mention some sort of tragic event, such as a beloved pets untimely demise under the tires of a hated neighbor.

This is done to the room at large, and others, picking up the intent, will start a conversation about it, asking opinions from the combatants, and drawing them away from an unseemly spat. This tactic, of family bonding through finding a mutual (non-family) target/enemy is a proven to be highly effective. Okay, so the most famous example of this is the Nazi party uniting the German nation through hatred of the Jews... but you have to admit it is effective. After the spat is calmed down, a day or two later everyone will, of course, talk to the two participants privately, and assure them that they were right, thus restoring family balance and helping to support the confidence and self-esteem of the two arguing relatives.

And fourth, all bitching about relatives will wait until you are alone with your immediate family, where you can unwind with additional alcohol. Or at a bar with additional alcohol. Or in your car, where you have stashed additional alcohol. While many might think that this shows an over-dependence on alcohol by my family, this is simply not true. We are just dependent enough on alcohol to make this bunch of polar opposite insane personalities tolerable.

While we may use alcohol as a crutch, any lesser being would have been driven insane by my family long ago. So, you see, alcohol addiction is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of strength.

Child of Satan found in library...

Ok, my friend, Queen of Dysfunction, posted a blog on Tuesday detailing the trials and tribulations of children. The blog ended with a story about some hooker illegally parked in a handicapped space getting in her face for disciplining her child with a light swat.

ARGH! I just had to post after reading that blog.

A while back a couple came into my library. With... a child. The kid was out of control. Seriously, I think the the kid has the number 666 imprinted on the back of his neck or something.

I was happy when they walked on in, and away from me. I love kids, but some of them need a mute button, or a mute button plus a whole bunch of ductape wrapped around them.

Anywho... the parents go in, the kid runs wild for about half an hour. Then it is time to go. The parents try cajoling the child into leaving.

It does not work.

After ten minutes of mommy whining, "Come here Johnny. We need to go Johnny. Please, Johnny? Johnny, it's important we don't be late..." I was ready to hurl.

The father came up and checked out the books. He apologized for his son. The father just looked... well resigned I guess would fit.

Just after checking out this huge stack of books for their monster, the kid comes running up screaming at the top of his lungs, "I WANNA GET THE BOOKS! I WANNA GET THE BOOKS!"

The father said that he was sorry, but he had already checked the books out.

Johnny just started screaming louder (and I did not think that this was possible) "YOU FUCKER! I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU FUCKER!"

By the way, the charming little tyke was about 7 or 8 tops.

Mom came rushing up and hugged the kid. No, that is not a euphemism from smother.. it was a full-blown hug. And then said, "Johnny, we don't use bad words. Daddy is sorry he made you mad."

The father's head just dropped until his chin was practically on his chest, and closed his eyes.

In my head I was screaming WHAT THE FUCK?!?

I cannot believe that some parents think it is wrong to spank their children, but that it is okay for their kids to be just as rotten, crude, and abusive to other people as they want.


END OF RANT

Mary Poppins - Poem of the Month

It's August! Yet another month has passed away, never to come back this way again. With that depressing intro, here is the poem for the month of August..


The Death of Mary Poppins

Yes, I murdered Mary Poppins.
Dead with one thrust of my knife.
Her cheery dispostition,
T'was the reason I took her life.

Although she spread joy to the world,
With her famous smile,
Though she made children laugh,
I saw her bound and brought to trial.

Mary Poppins, yes, I condemed thee.
For all the love you gave
It was never, will never, be enough,
For the children you did not save.

Children who still remain hurt.
Children who still get abused.
Their terrors quite real,
Their lives scared and confused.

So, what about the ones
To whom you never came.
Who sat wishing for your touch
To take away their pain?

Mary Poppins, with empty words
You promised love and happiness.
But though you tried, you lied, and knew
Some would still suffer in darkness.

Mary Poppins, Marry Poppins,
How much harder it is to remain
Trapped in a life of tragedy,
Waiting for the promise who never came.

I murdered Mary Poppins.
Dead with one thrust of my knife.
You see, her cheery dispostition,
T'was the reason I took her life.