Mark Twain Was A Racist

Tonight the following conversation took place with a good friend of mine, who will remain nameless...

(Conversation Topic: Recommendations of Classics)

Friend: Have you read Tom Sawyer as an adult?

Kate: No. I was never a fan when I was kid.

Friend: Really? I think you should read it again. You know Mark Twain was a total racist - so you would probably like the book.

Yeah, I'm not sure what that means either. I don't know if this is one of those "Ah Ha" moments, that Oprah always talks about, where I need to re-evaluate my behavior or just a really funny comment. I'm choosing to go with the latter.

Mind you, this was also the same conversation that produced this comment - from a Lit major no less...

Friend: You should also re-read Catcher in the Rye...it's got a swear word in it.

Day 3 of Bed Rest

What to write about? Hmmm...Do you want to hear about all the shows I've been watching? How about how many times I have checked Facebook and am forced to see another Halloween picture of some high school friends' child? Or the results I've found from googling "over stimulated ovaries?" No? Yeah, I didn't think so either.

Well, it goes without said, that today has been incredibly productive. I managed to make a "To Do List" at about 9:30 in the morning and I am proud to announce I finished three of the ten things I wrote down. Sure, I didn't learn how to knit, but let's be honest, the fact that I had "Download and watch V" as number 2 on my list doesn't really constitute a serious "endeavor to get something done."

Outside of watching V, I did do some downloading of music, and while doing this fantastically cheap exercise (got to love the Russians) I had a very sad realization: I've become old. As I listened through the Top Ten downloads all I could think was, "This isn't music." And "Do kids these days find this music lasting?" Oh man, put me in the right lane with my mini van, my blinker on and point me to soccer practice.

Then to make matters worst, without even realizing it, I with unabashed excitement stumbled upon INXS and proceeded to download a lot of songs. I mean a lot of songs. Then with as much care as I could muster, and in no way disturbing my ovaries, began to sing and bob my head to songs like "Mystify" and "Kick." Don't know what those are? Well they were written in 1987!! I guess this is it. The moment when I decide I'm going to wear the same jeans for the next ten years, say things like, "Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt," drink more water and go to bed at 10:30.

Please someone come to my house and make me wear skinny jeans and sing Lady Gaga.

Day 2 of Bed Rest

You know you are leading a rather strange life when you go the hospital again within the month and the nurses and doctors all recognize you. Yes, folks, on Monday I got to enjoy another fun filled day at the hospital. Unfortunately, this time it wasn't about making a spectacle at work, or passing out and unconsciously yelling at paramedics. No, this time it was just about good ol' knee crumbling pain. Okay, as you can probably tell I have a hard time dealing with real issues in a non-sarcastic way - so let me cut to the chase. I did some drugs, in order to get pregnant (not to relive some college days), saw some success, my body ran with it, overreacted and led to some serious pain. Now I'm on bed rest for the next two weeks and well...after sitting in bed for two days I've come to some conclusions. 1. I need to dust more in my bedroom. 2. I really should take more naps during the day. 3. Getting pregnant is not as easy as my fifth grade health teacher taught. Actually, I would like to find that lady and kick her in the ovaries. (It's my eye for an eye philosophy) and 4. Dr. McDreamy (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my husband) should really quit this whole lawyer gig and think about becoming a murse. He's fantastic.

So, don't worry you five readers I have - I'll be up and running in no time. And then it's off to Hillendale Elementary to find that hateful woman...

If I'm a U2 Fan Am I Old?

A couple of weeks ago Wayne Newton (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my husband) and I had the privilege of seeing U2 in concert. Simply put - it was amazing. First, Black Eyed Peas opened up the show, and I have to admit, that Fergie can seriously sing and their music does cause a very involuntary head bob. Second of all, the stage for this concert was unreal. I just did a little Wikipedia search and learned that the stage consists of a million screens, each 164 feet tall leg carries it's own sound system and it requires 120 trucks to transport each of the 3 sets constructed to support the tour AND the cost of each structure is between £15 million and £20 million. (I heart Wikipedia and I believe everything I read on it.) Thirdly, I couldn't believe the range of songs they played. I heard songs from my past that I never thought I would hear live.

And lastly, and probably the greatest part of the show, were the fans that showed up to see U2. I guess I fall under this category since I was there, but I couldn't believe who I was surrounded by. It was like the 1980s rounded up a stadium of people, aged them 20 years and gave them U2 tickets. Everywhere I looked were bald guys and "mama jean" wearing women dressed in ragged old Joshua Tree t-shirts, smoking pot and dancing like complete lunatics. Have these people been doing anything since Bono went from an Irish punk kid to a political activist?

Anyway, if you get the chance see this tour. You will not be disappointed by the acts all around.

I'm You

Today at work I was asked about a thousand times what I was for Halloween...and then scolded about a thousand times for not dressing up AND for not going out. I'm sorry, I thought at 30 my Halloween responsibilities were temporarily on hold until my own children throw a sheet over their heads and head out for their own personal sugar overdose. Apparently, not.

Okay, I will admit I do love Halloween. I mean who doesn't love all the good times. For example, while I was growing up I got to experience some amazing Mom-made costumes:

1. "Tourist" (This consisted of me putting a Hawaiian shirt on and camera around my neck)
2. "Plumber" (Yep, I got to carry around a plunger)
3. "A Camper" (This one was actually sort of practical. All night I carried around a canteen and a metal pack. I was hydrated and I had room for my candy)

When I got to college Halloween became my favorite day of the year. (Mostly because I could act drunk all night and wear my retainers - it was sort of a dream come true.) No seriously, things were going really well with costumes until my senior year. As a class, we decided to be rappers or gangsters. (Honestly, after growing up in Chadds Ford I'm not sure what's the difference, but I have seen Yo MTV Raps so I was down with the hood.) Anyway, that night I dressed in baggy pants, a basketball jersey and put a cap on backwards. I then got some fake tattoos on my arms and carried a toy gun in my waist (just in case someone wanted to mess with me) and headed out. As I was dancing with my friends an African American walked up to me, not in a costume but suspiciously looking like me, and asked, "What are you supposed to be?" After, looking around for the exits, I sheepishly said, "Well fine sir, I suppose I'm supposed to be...you." Yes, to answer your next question, it was incredibly awkward.

The Aftermath

As you might all remember I had a little "episode" at work that involved me passing out and being carried out in a stretcher by some paramedics. Since then, I'm happy to report I've been feeling great and fully using that fainting spell to my advantage. For example, if I don't feel like working I'll say something like, "Man, I'm feeling a little light headed. I think I need some pancakes." (and then pancakes will magically appear). Or if I find myself on break too long I'll say, "Sorry I was just contemplating how much I enjoy being conscious." I figure I've got a couple more weeks to milk it and then, well...I might be doing a little falling down in the bathroom...if you know what I mean.

I have to say as awesome as it has been faking sickness to get free food and extra time on my break, I've also had to endure some awkward moments. For example, co-workers and customers, who happened to be there the day of the event, constantly ask me if I'm drinking enough water. (I suppose I'll have to start wearing a Camelback to get everyone to shut up.) Secondly, co-workers and customers love telling me their story of the day. Like it wasn't bad enough passing out in a public restaurant, but I also have to endure a bad rendition of the movie Vantage Point (look this movie up and then this joke will be funny) every time someone wants to tell me how pale I looked that day.

And lastly, I have to deal with the stupid paramedics, who came to my rescue, tell me once a week how low my heart rate was, how angry I was with their constant questions AND how they are still convinced I was suffering from an almost heroin overdose. Yes, I did say heroin. After all their accusing looks, I finally had to tell them I've got my heroin down to a "manageable level" so they could high five each other and scream to the heavens, "WE KNEW IT!"

So, what am I doing now? 1. Drinking lots of water. 2. Leaving used syringes around the restaurant whenever the paramedics come. 3. And telling customers it wasn't about hydration, but about heroin...

...Things are going well.