The other day I was at a pizza restaurant. There was an end of the year baseball party going on. All the stereotypes were there. The Semi Hot Coach who thinks she's ALL THAT and has a fake bleach blonde put in pony tail (the one you buy at the mall). The the super super Fat Mom holding a toddler with a diaper bag spilling of blankets extra clothes stuff stuff stuff.... she's giggling nervously and can't stop staring at the Semi Hot Coach and stuffing food into her infants mouth.
Semi Hot Coach flirts with Fat Woman's husband. Thusly, Fat Woman starts stuffing her own face instead of toddlers. (I'm not making fun of Fat Woman, but I wish she'd loose the loser hubbie and fill herself with esteem and self love vs food.) Soccer moms babble, kids dump rootbeer down their shirts, there is a general 'we are supposed to be having fun' feel, and yet no one is really having fun. Except maybe the Semi Hot Coach, everything she does causes attention and she likes that.
How can one not notice when her fake hair is fluffing unnaturally to the side and she keeps bending over and sticking her a$$ in people's faces? By the way her jeans hike up the great divide, it's obvious there is nothing underneath and that she has some developing cellulite. (ahem cough sneeze).
People are worried about Iran but I say people with fake hair, fake nails, fake boobs, and tight pants riding up their ripply rears will be the death of the human race.
Then you got the goth crowd of teens huddled in the tiny corner of the resturant -- they're wearing holy jeans, have earrings and tattoos up the ying yang, or on the ying yang (HA) but they are laughing and having a good time. Focused on the moment. There were three teen girls walking by me. One of them stops to look at something and holds out her pop glass. The other girl leans over and sips out of the straw, and the third was aware of neither and slams into the pop holder and the straw sipper. The pop spills over all three of them and they are just giggling and laughing. (including me). Sigh. Love that age. I don't know what this paragraph has to do with anything, but... here it is.
Jodi, beautiful blog!
ReplyDeleteThis post reminds me of Edward Norton's 25th hour Fuck Monologue - rare and juicy, like good steak, like good writes.
Love the moth...I'm actually working on a sort of mothman prophecy horror write! Those circles like eyes,... so creepy.
Ha! Thanks Erin.
ReplyDeleteI took a pic of that Moth last summer. UNREAL. It was the size of my hand, a small bird even. I've never seen anything like it. Amazing. Glad you like too. I would LOVE to read an Erin Cole version of the MothMan Prophecies. William Pauley III (New Flesh Editor) goes to the MothMan Festival every year, he knows alot about the subject. May want to hit him up.
Thanks for stopping by and joining up!
Oh, I hope my kiddo doesn't want to join baseball! She loves ballet, and as I sit in the lobby watching her and her classmates play ballerinas, the other moms are busy talking about their other kids, tending their babies, which swim lessons are the best, and the latest Kate Gosselin gossip -- all while I'm writing my vampire stories. About real vampires, the kind that kill people and don't sparkle ;-)
ReplyDeleteHaha, Anne.
ReplyDeleteI'm not slamming parents, but stereotypes and fakeness. The whole dis-acknowledging nothing is wrong when everything is.
Would could be more real than a Nicole Hadaway Vampire? I love that you write during your daughter's ballet class. Actually, quite romantic. Thanks for coming by. ;-)
Oh, I know the point you were making, and it's true in many cases. And parenting today can be a bit over-done, which is why I like to escape to my vampire world ;-) It's nice to have something of my very own.
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