Awww, I saw this story about Children's Christmas Present giving, "Look what I bought you, Mummy," on Mona's journal, whose birthday it just happens to be, and it's so sweet and reminds me of how I respond to Beau's little gifts that I wanted to share it with you. As a parent you basically adore whatever your child gives you as an extension of the love you bear for them, whether that gift is a pot holder, a funny napkin ring, or tower of toothpicks. It's good advice for parents and makes for sweet reading -- very British charming.
I have a little anti-Bush joke that my friend just told me. For any of my Republican or Bush liking friends, please pardon me and look away for a minute, see you in the next paragraph. Okay, now that we're alone here, I can tell you this joke without hurting any feelings; Saint Peter was taking a break from his post at The Pearly Gates and went to visit Heaven. When he got there he was surprised to see so many clocks hanging on the walls. He noticed that while some of the clocks were set to the exact time, precise to the minute, there were many that were off by several minutes and sometimes hours.
He approached an angel and asked why there were so many clocks with so many different times on them and the angel said, "Oh, well, these are people's life clocks. We add one minute to a person's clock for every lie they've ever told." Saint Peter looked up at the wall and realized that he could see names on the clocks. There were Mother Theresa's, Buddha's, and Mohammed's -- they were all set to the exact time. The next group were off by a minute or two and included great people like the Reverend Martin Luther King, Gandhi and Oprah, and then there was John F. Kennedy's, it was off by about an hour, and Clinton's was off by about three, he thought, "Mmmm, must have been all those women..." Then he realized someone was missing so he looked at the angel and said, "Where is Bush's clock?" The angel looked at him and said, "Oh that thing, Jesus is using it as a fan."
I'm finally sending out all of my holiday cards. I picked them up yesterday and they cost a stunning four-hundred-and-eighty-dollars to produce. Oh Lordy-Lordy-Lord-Lordy. Thank God I finally paid off my credit cards so I can just go ahead and fill them up again...sigh.
I guess sending everyone and their fourth-cousin-removed five, color-copied, reduced in size, hand drilled, ribbon-tied cards two weeks after Christmas, three weeks after Hanukkah and days after the new year has already begun, is a wee bit over the top in terms of why-the-fuck-am-I-killing-myself-over-this, especially since I can't even send one to the nuns because there isn't a single image of the Baby Jesus, (I'm so damned PC, -- there wasn't a Menorah either), but there were plenty of Buddhas and little Asian girls.
I actually wanted to censor this so as to ward off any criticism esp. with everything that's happening in Southern Asia, but I guess it depends on where you stand on the value of art and expressing and sharing it. I think the world needs our art as much as they need anything else, our hearts need to be uplifted and cheered especially during hard times. I just wish I'd found a way to do this more affordably so I'll certainly do what I can to simplify this next year. I just couldn't stop cutting and cutting and when I was finally ready to assemble everything I had so much I wound up making five collages and had to make myself stop there. I could have easily made two or three more.
Collage making is such a fascinating art form. I love it so much. I've been doing it my whole life. For me it's very much akin to writing poetry; you either have to really slave over it, or else it just flows out from your subconscious, or that wonderful pure channeled art space, and is such a trip to analyze later. I may have set out to make a Christmas card but really it's all about my love of the orient, (Do people say this any more), my desire to have a daughter, or be Asian myself. There are also a few references to my addiction to sugar and a reminder to be braver than I have been. Interesting vewy interrrresting.
The magazine has finally hit the stands and as soon as I find a second to breathe here I'll scan it for you. It's a supplemental Woman's Day publication called Budget Decorating Ideas, the website is http://www.womansday.com/specials and the number for this one, if you're interested, is VOL. XIV, NO. 4, 2004. I can't find any info about it on their site yet but that might be because it's just too early and they haven't updated it yet. It turned out pretty well, a nice eight page spread with a lot of puff piece writing about my acting and life.
I have to take all of these cards to the post office but I am soooo weary and bruised. I hung out with my pals down the street last night, which is always fun and heart warming, (I love them so much, I'm so lucky to have found them), so while Mommy G. and Atra knit, Arta watched soccer, and poor Maryam lay on the couch looking miserable, (she has this flu/cold thing that we all have), I tied the yarn to my cards. i stayed for dinner and went home around eleven, but I remembered that I forgot to give Atra this copy of Marie Claire Idees that I had bought for her so I ran back over there, gave it to her, then turned around and headed back for my house in the dark. There aren't any street lights and it isn't lit too well down on her end of the block so I tripped on one of the spiky balls and fell pretty hard on my hand, leg and finally my butt. I was so surprised I just kind of sat there on the sidewalk, (right in front of my old high school teacher's, the nun's, home), in the dark and rainy night for a while, hurting and wishing there were someone who would come along, dust me off and give me a hug, but at the same time I was glad no one saw.
Remember when I told you that Beau's little friend called his Mother a psychotic whore? Well, I thought that was pretty damned outrageous, but this little guy has been Beau's friend since they were in first grade and well, even though nothing excuses calling anyone a whore, let alone your mother, they have their problems and I think they share the responsibility for this kind of behavior. Beau wouldn't dream of calling me names because he knows I wouldn't stand for it, not for one-second.
Anyway his Mom, who also swears at him, got so angry she tossed him out over this and he needed a place to stay. He's only thirteen and he called us from a pay phone asking for help. What was I gonna do? I let him come and stay with us for a couple of days and in my naiveté, my typically well-meaning but totally oblivious Jacqui naiveté, I thought we could work this out by talking about it. I talked and talked with him about why he said this, what he could do instead, tried to be there for him, listened to his feelings, etc., etc.
Then, and this is even more typical for me, I took him along with us on a trip to Best Buys because I had promised Beau something. I knew his friend would want something as well so I made a deal with him, (bad plan), I said, "Honey, I don't mind getting some games for you as well, but you have to promise me something. Promise me that next time you get angry with your Mom you won't call her names. You can't know how much this must hurt her. It would kill me if Beau talked to me like this. It would just break any Mom's heart. So here's the deal, I'll get you these games, and in return you promise me that next time you feel like calling her a mean name, next time you get that angry, you'll go in your room and punch your pillow instead, or get a phone book and rip it up, or just tell your Mom you're feeling really angry and need to walk away for a minute." Naturally he eagerly agreed. An hour after I took him home his Mom called and said, "I just threw him out again. He called me a fuck hole." Sigh, big sigh.
God what a year this has been, poor Howard Dean, he never deserved to be booted out of the campaign for that wild yeehaw, big deal, and Janet Jackson's star covered nipple, puhlease, who cares? But the war and the weather, oh God, how awful this has all been, so much raw terrible tragedy. I thought we'd seen the worst with the earthquake in Iran and the hurricanes, four of them, in Florida, but then this. I honestly can't tear myself away from the television and I sure won't be sad to say good-bye to this year.
We don't have much in the way of plans for tonight because we're all tired and sick and I don't want to leave Beau alone on New Year's Eve. I wanted to go to a hotel -- thought I'd get us two rooms so Beau could play games and watch movies in his while we could be a bit more adult and loving in ours but all of the hotels are, of course, booked. Then I thought we'd go over to Scott's for the night -- that'd be more fun and a change from hanging out here, but Scott thinks his house is too messy for us and wants to clean it up first, and Beau doesn't want to leave his precious computer and game systems, so I just gave up. We are going to go out to see The Aviator in about fifteen minutes so at least we'll be doing something. I don't really feel like celebrating or blowing horns and banging pots and pans this year anyway. Maybe we'll just light candles and send love out to everyone who has lost a loved one or had a hard time this year, that'd feel more appropriate and kind. Yep, that's the plan Stan.
Okay I'll come back and catch up with you later.
Big super loving end of the year hugs,
PS: Just in case I don't get to say it later, Happy New Year everybody!!!!
PPS: And just for the heck of it, I think I'll wrap up this sad year with a few laughs. Here are some of my favorite Bushisms from 2004. Oh wait, look away again ; )
"Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country."
"I want to thank my friend, Senator Bill Frist, for joining us today. You're doing a heck of a job. You cut your teeth here, right? That's where you started practicing? That's good. He married a Texas girl, I want you to know. Karyn is with us. A West Texas girl, just like me." —George W. Bush, Nashville, Tenn., May 27, 2004
"I'm honored to shake the hand of a brave Iraqi citizen who had his hand cut off by Saddam Hussein." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., May 25, 2004
"I own a timber company? That's news to me. Need some wood?" George W. Bush, second presidential debate, St. Louis, Mo., Oct. 8, 2004
"The truth of that matter is, if you listen carefully, Saddam would still be in power if he were the president of the United States, and the world would be a lot better off." —George W. Bush, second presidential debate, St. Louis, Mo., Oct. 8, 2004
"I always jest to people, the Oval Office is the kind of place where people stand outside, they're getting ready to come in and tell me what for, and they walk in and get overwhelmed in the atmosphere, and they say, man, you're looking pretty." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., Nov. 4, 2004
And everybody with even the most rudimentary understanding of the computer's favorite;
"I hear there's rumors on the Internets that we're going to have a draft." —George W. Bush, second presidential debate, St. Louis, Mo., Oct. 8, 2004
I'll leave you with;
"And so during these holiday seasons, we thank our blessings." —George W. Bush, Fort Belvoir, Va., Dec. 10, 2004