ICU81MI

They put this one up after the Rapture FAIL. Not terribly funny, but I thought to myself, "who's doing their signs now, a 14 year-old?" Either that or Prince. I'm going to go with Prince since "I Would Die 4U" could also be a contemporary Christian song.

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PRINCESS PI

I don't know what I was thinking. For some reason I thought that it would be a good idea to take Piper with me and my Mom to the Princess Diana exhibit. I mean they had the wedding dress on display. I will say that that God-awful poofy mess looked a lot less obnoxious in person.  Not that it mattered because it was Diana's and that's all I need. My friends have often wondered about my affection for Diana since according to them I "don't have reverence for anything." Basically here's the short version. My Mom dragged me out of bed at 5 am in 1981 to watch the wedding, and I made myself get up at 5 am in 1997 to watch her funeral.

I can't explain it except to say that there is just something about a real, live princess. It's just that simple. So when I heard that the Diana exhibit was coming, I had to go. I figured that my Mom should also go since she technically started all this Diana stuff. Then I had the brain storm to include Piper so that she could see a princess that didn't have anything to do with Disney. I know what you're thinking, not such a good idea, and you are right.

While my Mom and I were crying at the wedding dress, Piper ran in front of us screaming "there's more!" Although, she did watch the home movies for a long time, but that's only because she's addicted to anything on a screen. We finally gave in to the fact that a four-year-old + exhibit = bad idea, and took turns corralling her while the other one blubbered over funeral footage. Toward the end I just let my Mom (and everyone else that shelled out $23.50) enjoy the exhibit in peace while I sat with Piper and played My Little Pony. Mind you this was after I pried her off the computer that was designed to let visitors sign a remembrance book online and not to play Max and Ruby.

Since the Diana "experience" was technically my Mother's Day present to my Mom, we decided to have lunch at the restaurant next to the exhibit. After we ordered, I noticed that we were surrounded by a lot of go-getting business types dressed in tweed. We were sitting right next to a table full of them and their business speak, you know "think out of the box" and all that jazz.

Piper was actually now behaving beautifully since she had eaten and was given full access to her My Little Pony's. That's why what happened next was so odd and hi-larious. The business dudes sitting next to us ran into a couple of business friends that came by to say "harrumph, harrumph." Anyway, one of the guys was standing with his back to us. He was wearing a brown tweed suit that I guess was too tempting to Piper, because the next thing I knew I saw her reaching out for the jacket bottom with her thumb and pointer finger. I knew what she was doing, but it took my mind a few seconds to process. I thought "is she grabbing his butt?" And then I thought "hey, is she grabbing his butt?!"

By the time realized that she was actually going to touch this man, she'd already tugged at the bottom of his tweed jacket. It was like she was testing the quality of the fabric or something. The only I could say was "What are you doing?" She looked just as surprised  as I did, and she responded "I don't know." It was like the tweed entranced her and she couldn't help but touch it.  I expect that reaction out of something pink and sparkly, but brown and beige, not so much. Maybe she was just curious as to what exactly this strange matching jacket and pant combination was since she's never seen one before because her father flat-out refuses to buy a suit.

What confuses me more, is that during the entire Diana exhibit she didn't give any of the dresses a second glance. Oh sure she screamed "LOOK AT THE RED ONE," or "THERE'S A BLACK ONE," at the top of her lungs, but none of the historic Versace gowns piqued her curiosity. Even the wedding dress, with its 25-foot long train and gold antique crown was yawn-worthy to Piper. But put a tweed jacket in front of her and she is helpless to stop herself from caressing the scratchy material. 

Maybe I've underestimated my daughter, it's quite possible that she's fooled me with all the pink and ruffles. Maybe she only likes the fairy tale princess because she can manipulate the end past "happily ever after." I for one enjoy watching Cinderella hang out with Barbie and Jesse, listening as they're told "honey, get in the car!" Besides, it's a better ending than the real one got.

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DON'T LEAVE ME HANGIN'

I'll be the first to admit that I haven't read the Bible beyond what I was required to in Western Civ. But I just can't image that there is a passage like this. Then again, I could be wrong.

Crashed a car? Had some wine? C'mon!

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FUTURE GENERATION GAP

Not exaclty Devo 2.0

We have our turntable and stereo set up in the garage. While playing ping-pong in there with Mark, Piper picked out an album to listen to. She chose Days of Future Passed. After a few minutes she decided that she wanted to go in the house, because "this music's boring."

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VICTORY TOUR

I haven't posted any photos from Victory Church's billboard in the last couple of weeks because they haven't been funny or offensive. I guess that I should be happy that they aren't spreading intolerance and poor grammar, but it's not so good for me. I drove by today and it looked like they had an incoherent message, so I will post it tomorrow. 

In the meantime, I've discovered that Piper is quite the concise reviewer of movies and music, so I think that I'll entertain you with that until I get my next post up.

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HELLO EVERY PONY

It's Monday and I'm actually posting like I said I would. It's a Victory miracle! True, this one isn't very funny, but it does leave me confounded. So, you're telling me that Hell isn't for everyone or it isn't for every body? Maybe it's only for the sexy bodies?

It's cool, I know the door guy, I can get us in.

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MAKIN' MEMORIES SCHWEGMANN'S STYLE

As we've established, I have a lot of screwed up memories from childhood. Sometimes it was my Dad having a bong sitting on top of the TV (which he tried to convince me was a vase), other times it was watching him chop wood in his living room or looking on as my Mom switched price tags on Christmas trees - always a good time.

There do exist other memories that aren't so twisted thanks to the other women in my life, my Grandmothers. When I was a little kid, they would race to see who could get me an Easter dress and white patent-leather shoes first. Oh, how I loved searching through the big and chunky section of Belk-Legget to find pastel perfection. Those white shoes never quite fit thanks to my freakishly high arch, so they were a one-wear type of deal.

Yes, I went to church on Easter. No I didn't pay attention. Instead, I spent the time day dreaming about the exquisite fried meal that was coming my way after the wah-wah-wah-wah of the sermon. Easter dinner is one of the few things that I miss about the South, but then again food is a very big deal there, which is probably why I was so chunky.

Truth be told, I feel bad that Piper is missing out on that aspect of childhood. I want her to experience an unnaturally poofy dress, the thrill of those patent leather shoes for a day (poor thing has my feet) and being forced to sit still during what is quite possibly the longest hour of your life. In order for these things to happen though, I have to go against every fiber of my being and take her to church, and I'm not so sure that's a good trade off in the end.

Eggs? Check. Rabbits? Check. Easter, is that you?

So since Easter service at a church is out, I figured that I could at least let her enjoy the tradition of letting her get her grub on at Easter brunch. You know, the Jesus holidays always bring the best food don't they? I bet on the eighth day God actually made Crisco.

I thought that trying to get the family together would be a fun thing to do. How wrong I was. I made plans for Piper to go to the local Easter egg hunt (the Easter Eggstravaganza - I didn't make that up), and the next day a nice family brunch. My awesome plan first met resistance from Mark who took issue merely with the word "Easter," even if it was combined with "brunch." There is really only one kind of brunch that I would steer clear of, and that's a Holocaust brunch. Can't imagine that the portions are that big (I am so sorry).


Instead of going out, Mark said that he'd just make brunch at home. That's kind of like watching someone have a full on stroke in your kitchen, and then eating at the hospital. Yeah, it's that much fun. After a day of woman pout, Mark finally relented and agreed to brunch in a restaurant with our parents. I'm just hoping that I can talk my dad out of the workout pants long enough to eat. I know I'm in trouble when I get a text that asks "how nice is this place?"

It's not really because brunch is such a big deal, it in and of itself. It's because I'm trying to make memories. It's strange, but I feel like all of the traditions of my family have slipped away with my Grandmothers. What's even more strange is that I miss that silly shit. I miss my Nana trimming the maple crust off the Honey Baked Ham to the horror of everyone at the table. I miss the annual "Airing of Grievances" at my uncle's house. It was BYOB and you'd better also bring your thick skin because on Christmas Eve, everyone got a turn. Not many people get away with calling me "little Linda" and live to tell the tale.

Now I am aware that's not an appropriate tradition for a little kid, but what in the world am I going to hand down to her? A special evening with the Wii? Sitting at the table texting each other? I'm not sure, but this is the year that we start figuring it out. We'll start with food. Like anyone from the South knows, food can pretty much fix anything. Especially if it's both dough and fried. I don't care if I have to drag everyone kicking and screaming to fucking brunch, I Goddamn will. Don't test me. I'm making memories here people.

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