I AM NOT RECOMMENDING THIS HORROR MOVIE

I AM NOT RECOMMENDING THIS HORROR MOVIE

            This is very hard for me to write.  It’s kind of ridiculous actually but for some reason I had a traumatic experience while watching a movie.  It happened a couple of years ago.  My husband and I decided to rent a horror movie called ________.  I refuse to write the name of this movie (that’s how bad a memory it is for me) but you should be able to figure it out once I describe the plot in the most brief descriptive I can conjure up. 

            Basically, it was about a sick f--- scientist/mad man who kidnapped three people and surgically connects them to each other.  That’s all I’ll give you because I just don’t want to describe it.  But, the point in me telling you this is that such a silly horror movie changed my outlook on horror movies forever.  I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’m getting older or that this movie was the king of all gruesome flicks but I no longer have any desire to see another horror film, ever.

            I use to love them.  I’ve seen all the saws in theatre.  I grew up on the elm streets, screams, hostiles, chainsaws, etc. but this just showed me the depths of how the human mind can actually produce the sickest scenarios.  I now know and understand that there are people out there who have the most indecent, gut wrenching idea’s and to actually see those ideas come to life on screen, was the most horrifying image I could ever see.  It took something as idiotic as a human centipede (ok…there I wrote it L) to scar me for my adult life.

            I guess you can simply equate it to getting older, losing your innocents and understanding that bad things and people DO exist.  Meanwhile, we are told as children that monsters DON’T exist and it’s all fake, but that is just said to get our children to sleep.  Monsters DO exist!  I am so careful not to scare my children but I am certainly instilling the fact that there ARE bad people out there.  Take for example the monster in Brooklyn.  If it wasn’t for that nine year old angel, who I believe was called upon by God to take on such a sacrificial doom, that mad man would probably still be out there chopping up children.  I know! It’s horrifying to write, let alone read, but I guess we all have to acknowledge the dark side we live amongst because knowledge is power and we need all the power we can get to protect our children.

            Max knows all about stranger danger.  He’s taken the courses and I give him refreshers.  I try to explain that adults are not always right.  Just because it’s a teacher, a nurse, a babysitter, etc.  doesn’t mean their word is the end all be all.  The old school way of thinking was to respect your elders no matter what….end of story!  I do agree that kids should learn to respect adults but to put it bluntly; there are a lot of morons out there who don’t deserve respect, even from a child.  It’s a hard line to draw in the sand for our children.  Hopefully, they will follow our lead and figure out the good from the bad.  I’m trying to instill good instincts in addition to “the rules”.

            I think watching suck a f----- up horror movie after having my kids had a whole different impact on me.  And simply put….I just didn’t like it.

           

FISH DEATH

     Well, it finally happened.  We lost our fish, 2 dollars.  I actually kept him alive for 4 years.  He was our second beta fish.  The first died after a week and Max was young enough to where I could just flush him and pick up a new one.  The first fish’s name was 1 dollar (his actual price plus change) so the name two dollars seemed to fit just right for our second fish. 

I recently noticed how 2 dollars was slowly swimming around on the verge of floating.  I was disheartened because he/she is usually a very hyperactive fish which was the reason I picked him/her out in the first place. I figured a fish with a lot of speed would last us a little longer and I was right.

            I am smirking as I write this but I actually took pride in how well I took care of that stupid fish.  I changed his tank when it started to look foggy.  I fed him sparingly because I know they will die instantly if even slightly overfed (like I did to the last one) and I gave him a funny deep fish voice when he chit chatted with my son (almost everyday).   Max would come home from nursery school and run right into the kitchen to tell two dollars about everything he learned and the friends he made.   He would show his fish all of his projects, hold them up to the tank so 2 dollars could have a better view, and leave his art work beside the little plastic tank to keep two dollars company.

 The conversations they had were pretty darn cute.  2 dollars would always ask Max a ton of questions with his famous quote, “blurb.” “blurp.” afterwards and Max absolutely adored the attention two dollars gave him.  So when I witnessed two dollars sunken corpse at the bottom of the tank, I thought, “oh no…what do I say?”

            This is a very ironic situation for me personally.  When I watch shows on TV and a parent has to have one of “those” talks with their children; say it be: sex, death, divorce, etc. and they just can’t bring themselves to come out and say what it is they want to say,  I always critically question,, “what’s the hold up? It’s a child….your child! Just come out with it and be non-chalant.” Well, I just got my first taste of a semi-awkward conversation with my son. 

            At first I was going to do the old bait and switch.  Just flush the fish, go out and pick up a look alike and move on with life, right? (That’s was my husband’s advice) but then I thought, this may be a good opportunity to teach him about death.  God forbid, if something ever happened to me or Jake, I would want my children to not have the added shock of hearing about death for the first time.  I want him to understand where we go (to the wonderful, glorious absolutely astonishing heaven) how we go (in the ground, in a beautiful, comfortable box, called a casket) And then up to heaven where all their loved ones gather and watch over living souls on earth.  (And of course, how we will all reunite in heaven one day when hopefully we are very, very old).

            I broke the news on the car ride home from school.  That way he couldn’t see my uneasy face.  As I explained, I had a little lump in my throat.  It was the strangest thing.  I mean it should be the simplest thing to explain.  He had some questions, like always and I could hear his little voice start to quiver.  That made the lump in my throat get bigger and then I could hear my own voice start to quiver.  We didn’t cry though.  I could tell we both sucked it up together.  We loved that stupid fish.

            In that instant I understood what the writers for TV meant to express.  You can’t understand how hard it is to communicate with your children.  It’s almost like an out of body experience.  You know what to say, you think you know how to say it, you could easily say it to anyone else in the world, but seeing your child cringe at your very words is so difficult.  I still don’t fully understand the extent of this awkwardness because my boys are not teenagers yet and I know there are going to be a lot more of “those” conversations. 

            However, Max took the news like a champ.  His spirits where uplifted when I told him we were going right to Petco to pick out another fish and we even had a little memorial service in the bathroom as we flushed 2 dollars and said our goodbyes.  We expressed our love and told him we would see him again on the other side.  It seemed like I made the right choice to be honest and tell Max what really happened, but now I’m a little nervous that our new fish, 3 dollars, will kick the bucket soon and how I will have to explain (all over again) that fish death is quite frequent.  I don’t want him thinking or (god forbid) fearing about death too much. 

            I’m worrying too much! That’s a mother’s job, isn’t it?! We’ll take it day by day.  Oh…the cheesiness when you become a mother.  It’s great…Isn’t it! (Eye rolling)

A GREAT YEAR FOR THE CANCER HOROSCOPE

My horoscope insists that this will be a fabulous year for me.  According to the planets interactions I am supposed to be lavished with all types of gifts and rewards.  I am not pathetically superstitious but I am kind of a sucker for fortune telling and all that mysterious gobblety gook, so of course when I see something positive being predicted it gives me a little glimmer of hope for my future.  So far my year has been pretty darn good.  Nothing spectacular but a steady stream of uplifting events.  For instance, my little part time job from home has been on the up and up.  Boss seems happy with my performance.  More importantly, we are in the second round of Jay’s board of education evaluations and everyone has been extremely friendly and helpful in getting the ball rolling for him to start his special Ed nursery school.  And as for relaxation and unwinding, the hubby and I got to get away to Atlantic City for the weekend while my in-laws watched the kids.  Not only did we stay in my favorite casino/hotel, Caesars, but we played black jack into the wee hours of the morning and we both won.  I broke even (which is still winning in my book) and my husband racked up those green $25 chips that I love seeing.  He’ll give away those red $5 chips to the house all day but when the green comes in, he throws them in his front shirt pocket while I’m eyeing of course and he lets them stay their safely until we go back to the room and count the winnings.  I state this process like it is a usual routine for us and I am happy to say (while knocking on wood) it is.  He is like an amazing black jack guru.  He wins almost every time.  It’s because he is a ballsy gambler.  Doubling down, splitting, even playing the extra luck lady spot (you know what that is if you gamble) Most say it’s the suckers bet but amazing that bet paid out too.  Thank god he wins because boy is he a crankster when he doesn’t.  He gets that immature pout on his face and his little toddler routine could easily ruin the trip.  So I am relived to say we both won (and for me to win is a rarity). 

After gambling till my eyes almost fell out of my head we got to see the Gypsy Kings in concert.  Even though they are Spanish and we can’t understand a word they are saying we truly appreciate their talent.  Those old Spanish guys can play the guitar like no other.  Everyone was out of their seat enjoying the rhythm.  I was even shaking my part Spanish booty.  Part Spanish meaning the part that is so far back in the family tree that we have no clue which ancestor gave us our Spanish last name.  All we know is that a great great great grandfather was from Spain and our Hispanic blood line must have been wiped out but somehow we managed to keep the name.  Any how, the stage manager for the Gypsy Kings was letting some women get up on stage to dance during the finale.  The thought of me getting to go up there passed my mind, but I blew it off thinking I am a mom of two with a very conservative (when it comes to his wife) husband who might not enjoy me attempting another shot a fame.   Just then, as that thought was passing by, the stage manager caught my eye, pointed at me and mouthed the words, “You!  Come now!”  He must have read my mind because it took me precisely one second to climb over the people next to me, grab that wonderful man’s hand and let him lead me on stage next to about ten other women so I could shake my thang next to these “ok, maybe older” but very talented men.  After enjoying the view I was always meant to have (wink. Wink.) I looked out into the crowd to see if my hubby was taking pictures or even better, recording this once in a life time opportunity.  And you know what?....He was sitting in his seat with the meanest grimace shooting daggers at me.  I knew in the instant that I was in trouble.  And for a brief second, it broke my heart.  The fact that the one person in the world whom I wanted to see me on stage was the one person who absolutely hated to see me on stage.  In a nut shell, this has been our biggest problem from the very beginning.  I wanted one thing and he wanted the total opposite.  But I love him and I have changed for him and so far, I have experienced a perfect life with him.  Isn’t that what marriage is about?

Once I tore my eyes away from his, I fully enjoyed the tiny feeling of fame and I left it there with no proof to show to anyone.  He ripped me a new one after the show but he knew he was in the wrong, so he kept his lecture brief.  For my husband a lecture is not really a lecture, it’s a comedy roast filled with sarcastic and insulting shots.  If anyone was to witness this tantrum, you would get a big laugh out of his “lectures” You may even want to pay to see his comedy routine because he is just so darn funny and quick witted but he’ll get his point in loud and clear which was, “Why are you dancing onstage when you know I don’t like you drawing attention to yourself!”

Anyway, I blew him off (Yuck! That phrase looks horrible on paper).  After eleven years of these type lectures it doesn’t get under my skin like it used to.  Instead, I told his family about my little performance, as soon as we picked up the kids and I am ready to tell anyone who will listen that I got to dance on stage.  That is his punishment and he hates it.  Hehehe.

So that was some pretty good luck.  And it’s only February, so now I am waiting for more little wonderful surprises to happen.  I am like a little kid on Christmas waiting for presents.  I hope I’m not pissing off the astronomical gods because I’m expecting goodies, but it has been pretty uplifting to say the least.

A GET AWAY

            It’s so sad that I just paid $10 for milk and tissues.  What is this world coming to when I have to pay that much for a little drink and something to wipe our poor runny noses?  That and the fact that I have a couple of close family members with heavy duty disabilities and their monthly food allotment by the state was cut down to $40 a month.  That doesn’t even include any paper products.  No toilet paper, no napkins, no soap and certainly no tissues.  This is all due to our economy drowning in dept.  So far, some solutions have been to tax foods, cut disability, and slash Medicare.  Oh and I’m sure our government gets a nice piece from spiking the cost of gas every possible holiday weekend or that could just be my gov. conspiracy paranoia talking.

            Our monthly mortgage bill would make the average person sick to their stomach.  We should be living in a mansion for what we pay.  It doesn’t help matters that our county is one of the most expensive places to live in besides NYC.  Upstate NY taxes are astronomical but at least you get a nice chunk of property. 

The county we live in is small close quarters, overpopulated towns and a squished melting pot of mostly blue collared workers just trying to get by.  I live more towards upstate NY, so my town is bigger and a lot less crowded than the heart of the county, but we still pay out the nose for a little two bedroom townhouse.  Unfortunately, we bought at the height of the market in 2004.  Now, seven years later and with two little boys, the market has crashed and we would wind up losing a boat load even if we amazingly sold our place.  Now we are stuck, like most people our age, and the real estate market broke my heart. 

            Besides the mortgage which gobbles up most of my poor hubby’s check, we have the car payment, credit cars (lets not go there!) cell phones, the gym, pre-school, Jay’s therapy, utilities and expensive weekends where it seems like we go no where, do nothing, buy nothing, eat light and still manage to drop $300 without blinking.

            My husband handles the bills because he is the organized one, never has made a late payment and enjoys keeping the books.  I, on the other hand, would lose bills in the laundry, would have our electricity cut off and would stress big time over missed calculations (caused by bad math).  However, I am the saver.  I would cut things out, eat bread for dinner and crunch those numbers hard to save every penny.  My husband likes to splurge.  He is never cheap…lucky for me.  Never stingy! But, has no problem spending money.  He has kept good track of the books, but boy! Are the books getting over loaded!  Here is the perfect example; we go to Aruba once a year.  I love it and crave the break from the kids.  Grandma and grandpa stay at our house and watch the grand kids while we relax in tropical luxury.  Now, if I were in charge of the money, I would probably say we couldn’t afford it.  Let’s save.  Which I have said in the past, but hubby insists, “We need it!”  When I’m drowning in a bad day he’ll whisper about the palm tree’s, he’ll smirk when reminiscing about the black jack tables, he’ll playfully tickle me when we think about cuddling in the crystal clear, aqua green ocean, and he’ll remind me how the weather is always perfect.  Of course, I agree, especially when the kids are screaming in the back ground.  He makes perfect sense and off we go.  But I know we should be saving. 

Poor guy! He works so hard.  All he wants is a little break.  Who wouldn’t want to get away?  This economy sucks!  Bye…I’m going to Aruba.