Reality Show Junkie

I am more hooked on reality shows than I care to be. I was there when MTV started it all with Real World. I was utterly fascinated by the idea that cameras would follow those people, about my age, around 24 hours a day and record their every day lives. I watched every episode faithfully.

Now in the reality show boom, I have to be more selective in my viewing habits or I'd be glued to the DVR 24 hours a day. I resisted American Idol for the first few seasons, but eventually gave in to its siren call. The different versions of Big Brother, the Bachelor, and the Bachelorette, leave me cold. But give me a celebrity doing something ridiculous or outrageously foul language and I'm there.

In addition to Amazing Race and American Idol, my favorite's include Hell's Kitchen, Celebrity Apprentice, and Dancing with the Stars. Of these, Dancing with the Stars seems the most mindless, but after some deep thought about a fairly shallow show, I realized what I like about it. These people often have no natural talent whatsoever. They are completely out of their element. Yet, they work really hard and some do amazingly well. In the current season, I've just been in love with bull rider Ty Murray as he learned to shake his rump on national television. He really worked hard, and began to show a real sense of humor when he said things like, "I'm approaching dancing like bull-riding, you're never completely ready, it just becomes your turn." How many things in life are like that? If we always waited until we were completely ready, we'd always be waiting, never dancing.

My internal predictions were correct for the winners of Amazing Race, Hell's Kitchen, and Celebrity Apprentice. Finally a cycle of shows where the judges all saw things MY way! What a relief.

This week, the last two of my favorites wrap up. I am predicting that Adam Lambert will win Idol. Really, he's been miles ahead of the competition from the beginning. I also think Gilles Marini is going to pull out a win on Dancing with the Stars. He is among the few who does seem to have some natural talent brought to light by the show and hours of practice.

So these shows are over for this season and soon school will be out. I will have so much more time on my hands with no mindless enjoyment after Adam goes to bed. Wait, when does "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here," begin? :)

Perfect Spring Day

Chrissy's words were very tempting: "Come meet Jason and I at Einstein's this morning. We can pray before we eat and talk about God. It will be just like church." Except with bagels, sweet rolls, and Diet Coke.

I had two choices: hurry and get Adam ready to juggle him at mass by myself, or go enjoy some adult conversation with friends and time with Adam out. Most times I would go to mass, but this morning I needed a break from all obligation. No matter what it was.

We all enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, good fellowship, and one of us even got a little nap in.

Then it was on to part two of our Sunday.

Pork Fest 2009 at Misty's House:

Western pork ribs on sale for a mere 98 cents per pound
+ a hot, hot, hot gas grill
= happy, happy people.

Adam could have cared less and settled in for nap #2 for the day.

There is something about a lazy Sunday, good company, good grilled food, a sunny sky, green, green grass and swaying trees that combine for a perfect spring day after the long confines of winter. Today was probably the most relaxing, energizing day I've had in months. Everything about the blue sky, cool breeze, and bright sun fed my soul.

When we arrived home, I thought Adam would already be asleep, but as I walked around the back of the car, I saw this through the window:

I think he needed a lazy Sunday too.

Or maybe the semi-thumbs up was for the music on the long car ride. It occured to me that I am going to have to clean up my musical selections as I am not planning to raise a future rap star. At this rate, his first words are going to be about how T.I. is off to jail on weapons charges and will be back in a year or what an angry young woman Pink appears to be.

A Hot Date on Cool Saturday: Wal Mart and Me

On Saturdays, Ismael is either working, on his way to work, or sleeping so he can get up and go to work. Saturday night dates were a thing of our early, early marriage and have for now fallen casualty to the preference we have for paying our rent on time. I learned some time ago that sitting around feeling lonely was useless. I would have to make my own fun on the weekend nights. On Friday nights, I just relax and get some rest, but on Saturdays I'm anxious to do something. Now that Adam is here, I feel tethered to the apartment by 6 PM so that he can sleep in his own bed.

Around 8:30 tonight, I realized that with both boys soundly asleep, I could escape for a while.

Ismael and I like to go to the bookstore, have coffee, and read for free. So I thought I could go there and then on to Wal Mart to get the things I forgot earlier, but can't live without, namely diapers. For Adam, not me.

Barnes and Noble was uneventful. I picked up a book that promised you could keep your man if you feed him properly and do his laundry. I had to find out if the author included "emptying the silverware from dishwasher" and actually "folding the laundry" on his list. Fortunately, he was not so specific and I can rest easy that marriage is safe another day.

On to Wal-Mart. Now this is the THIRD grocery store I've been in today. Adam and I visited Wal Mart this morning to buy groceries. He got fussy and I remembered a school parent's advice to me from long ago, "when you have a baby, you have to be ready to leave every place you've ever been. At least twice." I headed for the check out mid-shop. He was asleep in his car seat before I hit the first stop light on the way home. I exteneded his car ride by doing some drive through errands and by the time I arrived at Marsh to finish the shopping he was awake. While Marsh can be reasonable on some grocery items, diapers are astronomical.

Thankfully, Wal Mart at 9:30 PM is substantially less crowded than earlier today. As I walked through the door, I turned to head to the restroom. A very necessary stop at this point in the night. Of course, it was closed.

The cleaning cart and some caution signs blocked the entrance to the women's side. I seriously contemplated banging my empty cart repeatedly into the maintenance cart in desperation or abandoning all pride and using the men's.

I heard "Mrs." plus my last name.

My last name is 9 letters long and African. People do not say it by accident.

This had to be a student of mine. Sure enough, I see him jumping up and down on the other side of the checkout. He and another student ran up carrying a video game system he had just purchased. I figure that the box in his hands was roughly equivalent to my monthly car payment. Things sure look different when you are 38 as opposed to 14.

I decided that either of my previously considered bathroom options would only feed the school rumor mill. I would shop and hope for the best instead.

To say that my memory is bad is an understatement. After I set the oven on fire, I went to the store for the sole purpose of buying oven cleaner. I bought forty dollars worth of stuff, none of which was oven cleaner. So next time you see a woman walking through the store muttering "diapers, diapers, diapers, clothes pins, diapers," say hello, because it's just me.

While waiting for check out, I engaged in some serious people watching. The toddler in the line next to me took off, pushing his parents' new broom, and had to be chased down by his father.

The Hispanic couple behind me chatted in rapid fire Spanish. I realized that some of this was directed at their young girl and mixed in the machine gun sound of a foreign language came "do you want this or not?" I think every parent, when thoroughly frustrated, wishes they could speak more than one language to further convey their feelings. The item in question was a small doll covered in red spots with various medical instruments. I mentally named the product "Molly Measles" and wondered how you say that in Spanish.

The cost for my latest store excursion was $45. Added to my earlier outings, I have spent $165 today on groceries and necessities. Aside from produce and perishables, I bought enough baby gear, canned goods, and cleaning supplies to last the next two weeks. I'll spend less next week, probably around $100, which averages to $6.30 per person, per day for the two weeks. If I look at it that way, I'm fairly impressed!

I stress about how expensive life can be, but I know I do my part. I do not buy non necessities, shop around for deals, and use coupons when I can. My biggest splurge is a case of Diet Coke and paper towels.

I have to trust God to provide for us and I had to leave this cost of living to Him a long time ago.

44 degrees outside, A/C running inside

My reward for a week well lived was crawling into bed at 7:30 PM last night. After I figured out how to get comfortable, without snatching my pillow from under Ismael's snoring mouth, I fell into an exhausted slumber. I slept through severe thunderstorms. I slept through tornado watches. I slept through Ismael's getting up to go to work, though apparently I had a lot to say about it. Evidently I have so much to say that I can't even be quiet when I sleep.

I decided to be a more vigilant parent tonight and check the weather before I go to sleep. My first reaction was one of delight. The low tonight is going to be 44 degrees. That is the kind of weather where I long to throw open the bedroom windows, turn the fan on, and snuggle under a pile of covers while ice forms on my nose. Perfect sleeping weather.

When I returned to reality, my delight evaporated as I realized several things:

1. We live in a downstairs apartment. An open window is like a neon sign blinking an invitation to burglars and rapists. Being opposed to both burglars and rapists, I have to leave the windows shut at night.

2. My husband is from Africa. He complains about the air conditioning and the fan. He climbs into bed next to me, sometimes fully clothed, pulls the covers over his head and complains he is freezing. Thirty seconds later, he is snoring. He can sleep in any condition. I once came home to find him dead asleep on our uncomfortable couch, the television BLARING, and the heat set on 80. It was my perfect version of how hot hell must be...especially if Wolf Blitzer is on the television.

3. I have a son now. That certainly complicates matters.

I wonder if letting the air conditioner run in cool weather is detrimental to the health and welfare of said household utility? I guess we will find out tomorrow.

I am a fan of....

 

I am a fan of Facebook.  It's true.  It has provided hours of mindless entertainment. I also have been able to keep in closer contact with my college girlfriends, colleagues, family, and former students.  

 

I love knowing that the children I have taught are growing into self sufficient adults.  Some of them have gone places I have only dreamed about, such as Kenya, South Africa, Ireland, and England, or had nightmares about, such as Siberia.  (I'm not sure why she is there, but I've seen the pictures of her bundled up in that frozen tundra. She's definitely there.) 

 

One former student recently wrote about taking the notoriously crowded train in London to his internship, "and after almost falling backward, I take my two square feet. I move my backpack to my front. I find a good stance to steady myself against the train’s jerky start. And then I realize my head (MY HEAD) is in the door’s way. With nowhere else to go, I rest my head against a woman’s back, in her blonde hair. That’s right: in. her. blonde. hair. I can’t imagine how awkward SHE felt."

 

I particularly like it when they become amusing self sufficent adults. 

 

Once you are a fan of Facebook, (the husband of one of my colleagues calls it divorcebook since she spends so much time on it), you learn that you can become a fan of other things with just the click of the mouse.  It's as simple as searching for what you love (grilling out, motherhood, God), finding the page, and clicking on "become a fan."  Facebook then adds the link to your info page and proclaims to everyone you know that you are a fan of (insert fan favorite here). 

 

There seems to be a page for everything.  A friend is a fan of Target, sarcasm, the beach, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, money, being lazy, sleeping, Hell's Kitchen, and summer.  My sister is a fan of Eric Clapton, Forest Gump, McDonald's, drinking around a bonfire, and cowbell.  Really, Judy?  Cowbell?

 

I am not a fan of many things on Facebook, but I think my list would look like this:

 

I am a fan of...

• patience.  Ismael has far more of it than I do.
• Diet Coke.  There really aren't words to describe the nearly life long love affair I have with this beverage. 
• tortillas.  I cannot think of a single food I wouldn't eat if it was served to me on a warm tortilla with some cheese and sour cream.  This must be how fish tacos found their way onto various menus.
• Jasmine rice.  If you have never tried this, go buy some tonight.  It is sweet, tender, and fragrant.  It is also off limits in our house as it decimates any control Ismael had over his blood sugar.
• pork.  Oh, yes.  Give me a good barbecue anyday.  Because of Ismael, I have grown to love chicken pizza, but I occasionally have clandestine meetings with this wonderful meat.
• going to bed early.  Apparently my son is too.  He hit they hay at 5:56 PM tonight.
• cooking.  When I'm not exhausted from school, I love to cook a good meal for Ismael. 
• Kraft Food and Family recipes and one pot/skillet meals of all kinds.  When I am exhausted, these will do.
• people in history who have undergone great struggle.  I think that's what drew me to concentrate on black history and civil rights during grad school.

While I was doing laundry, putting away groceries, cooking dinner, and cleaning the kitchen simultaneously, I began to think about the things I am NOT a fan of.  Namely all of the activities I was engaged in at that moment.  Facebook doesn't have the option for being against things.  Maybe I should drop that in their suggestion box.

 

I am NOT a fan of...

• folding laundry.  My cousin calls it the Devil's Chore.  How right she is.  There is a huge pile in the bedroom now that you would need a grappling hook and some rope to scale. I am conveniently ignoring it.

• Wolf Blitzer and the Situation Room.  Ismael watches all three hours of it, every day.  Fifteen hours of Wolf a week plus a few more on Sunday is way too much.  He’s like a rude houseguest who talks incessantly and just won't leave.

• emptying the silverware tray from the dishwasher.  I literally despise this.  I will often empty every other item from the appliance, but leave the silverware in for another go around, hoping Ismael will catch it next time.  I don't think he likes it either because sometimes I find that he hasn't sorted the clean stuff, just dumped it in the drawer.  Well, even I could stand to do that.

• taking out the trash.  I don't think I've done this since I started dating Ismael.  He thought he was being chivalrous; I considered it a job interview.

• being unappreciated.  Ismael has learned to say thank you periodically for my efforts.  I've been known to go on strike and after about three days of no meals, no clean dishes, etc. he figures out that a simple thank you goes a very long way.

• working.  I do like my job; but I desperately want to stay home with my son. 

• prejudice in all of its forms.  I've never had much tolerance for it.  After I married Ismael, my own father disowned me. Although I knew it would happen when he found out about my relationship, I couldn't let it rule my life.  I had to make my decisions independent of his beliefs.

And of course, I am a fan of my family.  They love me unconditionally even when I leave the trash and the silverware for someone else to do. :)