The Suckiest Animal in the Sea

Today’s blog post is a collaborative effort by author Gracie (age 11) and illustrator Madison (age 10).

Well, we just started our Oceanography unit. And our teacher assigned us animals.

I got the most possibly suckiest animal in the sea. Actually, there’s no way there could be a more sucky animal than this one.

I got the scallop.

(Dun, dun, dunnnn).

My first thought: I got food.

Here are some boring facts about the scallop.

1. When they are born, they are free-swimming embryos and they grow a shell after 48 hours.

2. All they do in their 40 years of life is sit on a rock, eat, and die.

3. Scallops can get as big as an average adult’s hand.

4. Okay, this is kind of sad…even starfish eat scallops. Almost all animals in the sea eat scallops.

5. There are 37 different ways to cook a scallop.

Scallops…delicious but sucky.

There, I Blogged

They say every blog post needs a picture. Here.

Ten things that happened today:

1. Weird conversation with my husband

2. Four hours in my client’s office

3. Two hours talking on the phone with Lisa

4. A Mad Men-themed party with Robrt Pela (my karma for writing this)

5. Drunk

6. Drinking wine in the streets of F.Q. Story

7. Dinner at The Parlor

8. Belly ache because of a tight dress

9. Lou just found some cat barf on the carpet

10. Blog

Give It Ten Years

Photo by Ryan & Denise Photography

People are disappointed to learn that we are still this happy.

“Give it ten years.”

I want to take a moment to express how much I adore hearing this from other married people. Oh, man, it’s the best!

When Lou and I were planning our wedding, I’d often share my excitement for my upcoming marriage.

I quickly learned not to do that.

After hearing countless versions of, “Just give it ten years,” or, “Enjoy it while it lasts, ” I made a conscious effort to scale back my expressions of happiness.

Not because I felt like a braggart. But because it felt gross when other people (some of them “friends”) openly damned my marriage.

We’ve been married for over a year now.

“How’s married life?” someone will inevitably ask.

“Totally awesome. I love it,” I always reply (because I’m not a liar).

“Yeah…talk to me in a few years,” they say.

“Go fuck yourself!” I [wish I could] say back.

I assume this means that people want me to say that marriage is harder than I thought it would be and that married life isn’t romantic or that my husband is a dick and we never have sex anymore.

Sorry, everybody, but this will never happen.

And I mean that. Never.

It won’t happen because I made a promise. Sure, I promised Lou I’d honor him in sickness and in health and blah, blah, blah…I take that seriously. But that’s not the promise I’m talking about.

Way before I met Lou, I was in an unhappy relationship. This man and I stayed together over four years and even though we fought constantly, we got engaged.

I broke it off.

I put him through hell. I disappointed our families. And I flipped my life upside-down.

I decided all that mayhem had to amount to something. So I promised myself I would never be in an unhappy relationship again.

Since settling would have broken my promise, I could have easily spent this life alone. I am extraordinarily lucky to have found Lou.

So, no, I will never hate on my marriage. No matter how much other people want me to.

Besides, how could I hate a husband who does this?

I found this on my desk this morning. Lou printed out a picture of himself. Then he made himself say, "Lilia Rocks."

My Beef with Mad Men

Even after divorce, she still makes him look good.

Yeah, I said it. I’ve got beef with Mad Men.

I’m sure I’m in the minority here. People still seem to love this show and celebrated the Season Five Premiere episode. (My Facebook feed from the last two days proves it.)

Honestly, I barely got through Season Four. Now that there are about 100 episodes, I’m no longer amazed by the costumes or the eyeliner. The blatant chain smoking, boozing, and sexism has lost its mystique.

Today, the show only offers a weak and over-complicated storyline.

But that’s not my main beef with the show.

It’s this: I can’t believe what they did to my favorite character, Betty Draper.

In the early seasons, she was neurotic, catty, and completely bored with her role as the faithful housewife. Frustrated by her under-stimulation, she lashed out in very strange (and very entertaining) ways…shooting birds, driving her car into a yard, and looking to a school-aged boy for understanding.

Sure, she was somewhat bitchy to her kids, but she delivered some hilarious lines. And she was a loyal wife, even though she was married to the worst husband in the world.

So Don finally gets his comeuppance and she leaves him for another man.

Then, suddenly, she’s smacking her kids across the face and saying horrible things to little, lisp-y Sally. Not to mention, she’s an unreasonable bitch to everyone, all the time.

Don, left to tend to his abused and neglected children, is now our hero.

(Nevermind the fact that he hardly interacted with his children in Seasons 1-3 because he was too busy banging every poon in town behind their mother’s back.)

Poor Betty. They had to turn her into a monster just to keep Don Draper the audience favorite.

What a rotten trick.

Plant Me the Serenity

Lou, choosing our next murder victims.

I guess we are gardeners now.

Yesterday, I consented to Lou’s sudden suggestion to buy some plants.

After sucking down two mimosas during a lovely brunch at Vincent’s, I gleefully skipped through Baker Nursery and filled our cart with herbs and vegetables.

(Had I been sober, I probably would have nixed the whole idea in the first place. I believe Lou knew this and took advantage of my midday drunkenness.)

I have a terrible track record when it comes to gardening. Not to mention, I just took a pay-cut by switching to this freelance business.

So, we basically just spent $50 on a bunch of plants that I will soon kill.

Poor little things don’t stand a chance.

Reunited (and It Feels So Good)

aussiegall, flickr creative commons

I miss the days of rotary phones...but not the long-distance charges.

I have a phone date with my best friend in about 45 minutes.

After writing this post and reuniting, she and I have chatted on the phone, online, and over text at least three times a day.

And, now that I’m a freelancer and she’s an independent artist, we decided to be conceptual office mates. We share ideas, fears, inspirations, and offer the emotional support needed to be successful professionals.

Yesterday, after chatting for at least an hour, we were abruptly disconnected. This is nothing new. Throughout the years as she lived in different cities, our friendship has largely taken place over the phone.

When she lived in Boston (in fact, she’s the one I was preparing to visit in this journal entry), there was an occasion in which we talked for a record-long eight hours. Our only interruption was when one of us had to refill the balance on our calling card (remember those?).

So when we’re disconnected like we were yesterday, we usually don’t reconnect. I set down the phone and wait.

Because I know that if I call her and start another phone call, we’ll go on for another hour…or eight, if we’re able.

I recently apologized to Lou for spending so much time on the phone with her. He said, “Baby, you can have all the time you need to talk to Lisa.”

Thanks, Lou! I’ll take it!

Favorite Gift: A Cruel Cartoon

More than three years ago, I was treated to dinner by two of my favorite pals, Robrt Pela and Todd Grossman.

I dressed up that night.

Then Todd drew this.

I feel special when people make fun of me.

His husband, Robrt, was kind enough to give it to me.

(Todd is to the left and Robrt is on the right.)

Since then, I’ve pinned this little slip of paper to every cubicle wall and office bulletin board I’ve been forced to stare at during the past three years.

Because it’s one of my all-time favorite gifts. Ever.