mama goes clubbing

so I went out to the Supper Club the other night..with Rosa, my very good friend Nadine and two of her girlfriends. I have been to all black clubs before(in fact, that's usually my kind of thing) but I think this was the first time that I was the only white girl in the place. Try not to be self-conscious about that. In addition to me paling in the shadow of my girlfriends I wasn't exactly dressed too stylishly. While everyone around me seemed to be wearing glittery shirts, jewelry and pumps, I couldn't find anything else in my closet than a combination of clothes which made me look like I'm heading to the beach and didn't want to mess up the good skirt. Good thing I started drinking, so this wasn't anything one drink couldn't fix (for those of you who don't know me...I never ever drank any alcohol until about a year ago). One diluted Pineapple Malibu, a couple of anonymous gropings later and I felt much better about myself. I remember the days when I used to swing at anyone who even tried to touch me without permission. After 10 years with the same man these days are over. ;) Now, someone touches me and I'm like "mhm...look I've been touched by ANOTHER man! :D." You go for the ass or the boobs (which really doesn't happen) I still will pop you in the eye, of course, but I've become much more lenient. After all, it looks like that's all I'm gonna get...since I find myself unable to cheat. But let's see...there is always room for growth. ;)

So, after a while I loosened up and started shakin' that booty (i.e. danced some..or lots).
When I finally took a break and sat down on the stairs around the dance floor, some guy holds his blackberry in front of me.
I: "what?"
he: "your number is missing."
I: "ah..of course. ..and what is your name?"
he: "Tony."
I: "Tony, there are two reasons I can't put my number in your phone.
1.) You are wayy too young for me. You are like a baby-boy."
he: "I'm 30 years old."
I: "no, you're not!"
he: "yes, I am"
I:"no, you're not."
he: "yes, I am."
I: "lemme see some i.d."
He pulls out his i.d. and it turns out he really is 30 years old. It also turns out that his name isn't Tony, it's Bruce.
I: "ehm,...Tony....if you are giving me your id you should probably try to remember that this will reveal the fact that you're lying about your name. Not a good way to start out."
he: "I was gonna give you my real name, if we would have started talking over the phone."
I: "if you're gonna pick a false name, at least pick something less corny. Tony....that's a bad player's name."
he: "...really? ...then.... Tyrone maybe?"
I:"ehww... no. worse. ...maybe something like Troy. That's a cool name."
he: (pondering) "Troy. ...like the movie."
I: "...ya ...the movie... (sigh)"
he: "so, can I have your number."
I: "no. and here goes reason number 2 (I should have probably prioritized differently;) : I'm married."
he: (pause) "I'm married, too."
I: "And you're rappin' to me? I should slap you upside down the head on behalf of your wife."
he: "hey, you're rappin' back."
I: (thinking: I think, I am.) saying: "no, I'm just responding to you as not to be rude."
he: "mhmm........ so can I have your number.... we could just be friends."
I: "yeah, right. ...thanks, but I have enough friends. And I'm sure your wife wouldn't appreciate me very much."
he: "I'm not really married. I just switched my ring over to this finger."
I: "I didn't want to say anything...but your ring looks like a pimp's ring...all flashy like that."
he: "ok, I'm going to try one more time...cuz I really enjoy talking to you. can I please have your number."
I: "ehm, no. ...besides our relationship already lacks in trust big time ;) ."
he: (sighs)
to which I gave him a big smile good-bye and made my way back to the dancefloor.

Unfortunately, the DJs of the night were quite annoying. They just couldn't shut up. Not a single song did they let play without them interrupting every 5 seconds (and I am NOT exxagerating here). As the night went on, they became more and more daring and at the end they were just playing songs like "lick that p*ssy, lick that cr*ck" ...and telling guys to shout out if any women "ever did some stupid sh*t" to them and "you just wanted to beat her up" to which they then played some song which had a chorus going something like this "f*ck that trick. f*ck that trick".
I was in shock that women were still dancing to this completely disrespectful sh*t. I mean, I like rap and hiphop, so I obviously can take a fair share of women-bashing, but there are some limits, no? At one point, I just can't take it with humour anymore. Were is your self-respect, ladies?
Speaking of which, ... what is happening to the FCC regulations? Not that I am a supporter but it's all kind of weird. This morning I'm driving in to work, my car-radio tuned to 105.1 (Rap, HipHop, R&B), and a commercial for some event comes on that ends with the sentence: "Get your a** over there ni**er" (hmm, how do I bleep out the word 'nigger'...shit, now I wrote it down...I just hate that word...and I'm not even black.... so I'm thinking...if I -- non-black, maybe still a bit old-fashioned -- take offense in this commercial, then what about every black person my age or older? ...well, I'm gonna ask some of my friends what they think...I'm curious.)

undercover come-on

so, I 'm walking the dog and this car pulls over next to me. some guy trying to talk to me sort of cruises at my speed of walking.
guy: can I just tell you ...you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
me: (internal hysterical laugh about stupid come-on line) ...- looking at him with a frown
guy: (probably sensing my discomfort of being hit on from someone inside a car) don't worry...I am a police-man...
me: is this your idea of under-cover work? You disclose your identity to talk to a woman?
guy: can I ask you if I could give you my number?
me: thanks, but no thanks. I'm married. (to which he just bowed his head, blabbered something into his walkie-talkie and sped off).

is my writing that bad?

so, I'm writing a mail from my g-mail account...and you know how google has those ads that show up on the side with information pertaining to what you're writing?
So, today I look over this is what I got:

Sponsored Links
English Grammar
Get Help with English—
Find Answers to English
Homework Questions Here.
reference.aol.com
The perfect grammar tool
Fix all writing problems
Analyze the entire text
whitesmoke.com

I'm insulted. By an automated ad.
(technically, I should be saying "I've been insulted." ...so maybe I need the damn grammar check tool after all).

I love daddy more

good thing I am not taking this too seriously, yet...or maybe I'm just in denial but this morning Maia woke up, climbed on top of her father and said: Daddy I love you soooo much.
Still half-asleep I tapped her on the shoulder: Excuse me, ...and how about mommy? Do you love mommy, too?
Yes, she said, but I love daddy more.
ouch. After picking up the pieces of my broken heart (just kidding), I asked and why is it that you love daddy more?
Because Daddy makes me all these nice things and you never cook anything, she responded.
(O-U-C-H.)
I do, too, I said, I cook for you. I make spaghetti and egg-omelette, and turkey & rice, and ...macaroni and cheese... Just not lately.
I want macaroni and cheese for breakfast, she said.
I'm not making mac and cheese now. It's too early, I said.

my 3-year-old's idea of a perfect moment

My 3-year old is turning into an indoor child and I can't handle it. More than once did she now tell me she doesn't want to go outside. In the morning she sounds like her dad when she tells me to close the curtains because the sun is bothering her. But the moment I realized she is becoming a city kid snuck up on me yesterday at the end of her bedtime routine. Her latest excuse for getting up again after the lights have been turned off is that she is scared. Sometimes she is honest and you just hear a loud sigh and her groaning out of the darkness of her room "aarghhh. ....Mooom!...sleeping is boooring!"
Anyway, so yesterday while tucking her into bed I tried to get ahead of her I'm-scared-excuse and told her to close her eyes and imagine something beautiful.
me: imagine a beautiful thing. what's something really beautiful for you?
maia: (thinks) ... "TV," she finally says smiling happily, "and milk."
me: (country girl in shock) TV??!!
maia: yes, ...TV with milk...and pancakes on top of the TV (to make it even more better).
me: we gotta get you outside more often.
maia: I don't wanna go outside.
me: sigh. (with inner turmoil)

I am from Austria. I basically spent my entire youth outdoors. My favorite place were the woods. I climbed everything - climbable or not. I was dirty most of the time and I think I wore a dress once. ... Rosa keeps on asking me what's so bad about staying inside. ...I can't say. It's a life-style. ...And I truly believe children should be outside everyday.

do you feel lucky?

A few days ago I read this terrible story in the NY Times about a 16-months-old child in Niger who just died of malnutrition. Nayla is 16 months old. :<
Just thinking about this makes me ache. As much as I wonder why I am so priviledged to be a mother who can give her children what they need, I am also grateful. This one thing I will never understand. The distribution of suffering. The one fight I'd ever pick with God. If I had to pick a fight, that is. ...That, and of course, the whole why does menstruation (and childbirth) have to be so f*in painful. ;)
but seriously, now..... here the letter I just send to as many friends I could fit in that field at the savethechildren website. Here it is to you:
------------------------------------
Guys,
If you have a few bucks to spare it would be really worth its value here. Donating takes 2 minutes and it can save lives.Too many children die. Too many people die. ...This world seems to never be in great shape....But at least we can make a little/big difference by sharing what we have (and how greatful I am for what I have).
www.savethechildren.org

sisi

It's hot in NYC = Open the hydrants

From my photoblog - Open Hydrant (Bronx)
newyork.blogphotography.com

how to ask this delicate question

So, I've been really trying to avoid asking my downstairs neighbor if she is pregnant even though she totally looks/looked like it. The problem is, the woman is also a heavy-set lady and I didn't want to risk asking her if she is pregnant, when in fact she is still trying to get rid of the pregnancy-fat from her first child. God knows, I sympathize. I've actually been asked if I am pregnant... many many months after giving birth..thank you very much. >:<
It was enough that I had just a few weeks ago asked another neighbor (and..coop-board president...sigh) if she is expecting, when in fact she wasn't. Nice.
Anyway, so I thought, let me just not ask and wait until she is really obviously pregnant...if she is..and then ask her.
Unfortunately, it turns out there is no graceful way out ...or at least, I am not graceful. I got in the elevator with my downstairs neighbor's husband this evening. He was carrying a big aluminium tray so I asked him if they had a barbeque today. No, he says, ...it was a babyshower...for his wife.
Oooh, so she really is expecting! I said
Ehm, yeah, he grunted, very much so. She's due next month. A response which made me realize I might as well have been asking if his wife was pregnant or just very fat. :<
I suck.

therapy on the horizon

so, Dario agreed (with clenching teeth) to a weekly therapy session. Of course, I would be the one who has to organize this but I can handle that. (Also, this will kill all of our savings...so, bye-bye vacation home.)
He still insists we could do this on our own ..we just need to communicate better....;) aaahh...the unrealistic idealism...

I just don't want to become a statistic. I don't want to become yet another divorce story. I saw this program the other day (on PBS "Secrets to a Long Relationship" or something like that) and one of those old ladies said something like: "People separate for the silliest reasons nowadays... a relationship is something you work on...you don't just bud out at the first sign of trouble..."

I also don't want to assimilate to the general trend of messing around. It is hard to keep this rather traditional view in this so unbelievably horny society. Sorry, I couldn't think of a better word than "horny" ... I wanted to say "liberal" but then that would mean I am not liberal, thus conservative, and I just can't bear to claim that. I also thought about describing this society as "open" but that's also not right, for there might be the "girls gone wild" and the south-beach excesses and all that sh*t but really...somebody shows a bare breast on TV and everybody freaks out.

It is weird that I am such a faithful person, for I truly don't believe in monogamy at all. I guess, my faithfulness has more to do with honesty, for that would mean I have to lie...which I (a) hate and (b) suck at.

maia figuring out numbers (or not)

me: maia, you can play 10 more minutes.
maia: no,...how about a little more....how about 6 months and 48.
me: 48?
maia: yes, 48:48
me: oookayy....

****************
maia has a new watch (some plastic thing somebody gave her):
me: what time is it maia darlin'?
maia: it's 10.245. 38:38
me: ...ehm..well, thank you....

husband refusing therapy

sh*t, I wish I had more time to think and blog...but since I don't, here
the letter I just wrote to Dario (I've been trying to convince him to go to a weekend therapy workshop with me, and he refuses with the excuse that he doesn't want to leave the girls behind) - so just in case,...this isn't a humorous blog-entry ..it is a stripped-bare entry:

I just would like to capture for posterity the fact that you refuse to go to therapy with me.
We cannot afford individual sessions and the combined workshops are only on the weekend.

You think all is fine (just like most men do - oblivious to the way their wife feels).
I am very close to moving into dangerous territory (i.e. opening my heart and my mind for new experiences outside of our marriage). I don't mean f*ing around, I mean opening my heart, which I have closed 10 years ago as to keep it with only you.

This is dangerous to our relationship but I have been unhappy for too long and you don't let me undertake my last attempt to improve this marriage -> therapy.
Therapy is a natural step in a long-term relationship. It is vital to this one and it is WAYYY over-due. I love you, truly ... but I am just so frustrated.
You don't hear me...you don't listen to me...you're negative, you're demanding, ...your communication sucks (i.e. you like to play the blame game, you are passive-aggressive...you name it... all detrimental to us and ultimately our family. I am aching inside as I am writing this...but I will not remain in an unhappy relationship forever.
We need to find a way to communicate better, understand each other better, respect each other, etc. etc. .... and we NEED a little help and some instructions.

You think I am doing this for fun? You think I want to sit in an intensive 2-day workshop and talk about relationships? This sucks as much for me as it sucks for you but I find it is inevitable and overdue.
I have faith in us. We have good material to work with. We love each other. We respect each other.
We love ourselves as a family with two wonderful little girls.

Going on a weekend trip with your wife doesn't mean you are leaving your children. Do you think it is easy for me to be separated from them overnight? I can't even sleep in the office (regardless how exhausted), just because it would mean separation. Something I can't say about you. How many times have you slept in the office? What about my trip to Cape Cod last summer? You were without your ladies for days.
And what about this summer? You seem to have no problem with the idea of me taking a vacation with the girls while you stay here. You seem to also be quite excited about any weekend trip you could be doing with John (once again, ...leaving your girls behind.)
So, please don't make them your excuse.
If anything...it will probably be much harder for me, for it will be the first time I am away since my 2-day trip to Cape Cod with Marta to wean Maia when she was 15 mo. old.
They will be in good hands. They are in these hands almost every day of the week.

love,
s.
PS: I know you try, and you are a sweet man, and I love you ...and you love me...and all...but it isn't enough in the long run, Dario. I am so frustrated with our daily life....we NEED a tune-up.
Besides, a weekend trip together will be good for the two of us....as a couple...(and I am not only talking about uninterrupted sex)..... it could be romantic.....that is if we don't rip each other's head off in the day's workshop (just kidding) ;)
xxxoxx