Random observations from the weekend

This was a crazy-busy weekend, one in which I traveled about 300 miles between home and Ann Arbor (much of it on foot, wearing insensible footwear -- the only kind I own). I attended a bachelorette party, the Notre Dame-Michigan football game, a theater gala, and dress rehearsal for "West Side Story," while Molly basked in the undiluted attention of her Ohio grandparents (following whose departure this child never fails to be completely off her sleep schedule or get sick, both of which promptly occurred this time. I think my mother dopes her milk so that the child will be a mess when she leaves, thus ensuring that Grandma MUST return as soon as possible so as to right all the wrongs that Daddy and I surely impart on a daily basis).

I'll start with Friday night, in which I drove from work to home (15 miles), from home to Ann Arbor and back (60 miles round trip) and walked the length of Ann Arbor and back in 3 inch heeled strappy sandals so that our gang of skimpily-clad primarily over-30 primarily mothers of infants and toddlers (and one fetus in progress) could escort someone wearing a circa 1985 wedding veil plus a veil adorned with plastic penises (penii?) to a gay bar.

Observation #1: There is no higher compliment than an extremely gay man wearing a pink plastic lei telling you "you are FABulous," especially when he does so inside a coed bathroom whose surfaces are not even safe for the bottom of your shoe to touch without fear of instant disintegration. It was the best compliment I have received in MONTHS.

Observation #2: A gay bar is an ingenious place for a group of women wearing various iterations of hoochie black tank tops and sassy pants coupled with nursing bras and an unborn child to tear up the dance floor with absolutely NO reaction from the people around you and no need to feel self conscious. We were like man repellent -- and even the lesbians didn't give us a second look.

Observation #3: Even after two beers and a shot of who knows what, there is no logical explanation for Tiffany's musical career.

Observation #4: Don't attempt to dance on a stripper pole or a stair railing unless you've properly warmed up.

Observation #5: Despite your best efforts, you (straight white girl in the tank top and black pants -- i.e., me and everyone I was with) are NOT "THE" Dancing Queen in a gay bar, no matter how violently you dance to the song. The lovely man wearing a blue beehive and a plaid dress has you beat on all counts.


We left the club at 12:30 or so Friday night and returned home, only to find a child who despite being perfectly healthy when we left her in her Grandma's care (read above about my theory), had now come down with a hearty cold and woke up several times screaming her snot-caked little lungs out before Mommy hauled her into bed at 1 am. She proceeded to wake up mewling like a wounded kitten at least 27 times between 1 and 6 am, at which time I took her into her room and tried rocking her as a last resort. This apparently was great fun -- she wanted NOTHING to do with going back to sleep, but was content to smile at me and lay peacefully on my lap -- peacefully, with the exception of continually poking me in the eye and saying "dada." Fun times.

She finally went to sleep around 7, which left me a whole hour to sleep in before we were due to get up and get ready to drive BACK to Ann Arbor, allegedly at 9 am, to get to the game in plenty of time to tailgate prior to the should-not-be-allowed-to-do-this-to-sports-fans 12 noon start time.

Ha.

We left the house around 10:15, much to the chagrin of my houseguests (my best friend from ND and her husband, who is also my friend, and was before they even started dating, but I know it pisses him off to be described as my friend's husband. nyah) who are well accustomed to my timeframe which generally means I leave or arrive at least an hour later than I ever intend to. My last timely entrance to anything was my own birth in 1975.

We finally walked into the game about 2 hours later. Some observations on the ND-Michigan game:
Observation #1): Wearing shirts that say "RUDY SUCKS!" is NOT an insult to ND people. If they said "NO SHIT, SHERLOCK" on the back, we'd probably sell them at the student center on our own campus.

Observation #2): Whatever academic ranking Michigan boasts should be lowered by about 17 notches given that the two best anti-opponent chants they can come up with as a student body are "F*** THE IRISH!" (clap clap clapclapclap) and this particularly witty one, chanted to a weird funeral dirge type thing played by the band:
YOOOOOU. YOU-OO-OO SUUUUUUUCK. YOU-OO-OO SUUUUUUUUCK, YOOOOOU, SUUUUUCK. SUCK!!!"

Wowee, that last one REALLY drives the nail into the coffin.

Observation #3): GOD is it great to be a woman at sporting events, the only time you can walk past the men's room line and LAUGH

Observation #4): Dan and I may as well have been wearing spit-up stained shirts and holding dirty diapers, given how obvious our parenthood was as we stood in the student section -- at one point, something on the field made us simultaneously yell something in the voice of Elmo speaking to Mr. Noodle, and worse yet, we both found it hysterical.

Observation #5): Get over the "maize" people -- 90% of you wear fluorescent yellow or something closer to what you'd find on a paint chip labeled "buttercream."


From the game, we drove back home (another 30 miles), arrived at 6:15 pm, and by 6:45 were back out the door to attend a theater gala another 30 miles away. Did I mention how swell it is that both of us drive gas-guzzling trucks??

I believe the purpose of this gala was to showcase the different performing groups that appear during the year at this gorgeous new theater complex -- one of which is a new theatre company that I am involved in. By the way, yes, it's "theatre" when it's the troupe you're talking about -- "theater" is the building. Either that or we just like to spell things the pretentious British way, which makes every word look more sophisticated. Glamour. Colour. Booubies. Just stick a "u" in there and voila, instant status upgrade.

Anyway, we mercifully left after intermission, having done our duty in supporting our own little theatre company which looked positively Broadway-bound amidst the other acts that were showcased. We left with very full stomachs, a contraband wine glass (good job, honey) and an appreciation for how talented our regular theatre group really is. Oh, and the knowledge that even the worst performances can be forgiven with an open bar and an unlimited Don Pablo's buffet.

I spent my EARLY Sunday morning watching Noggin and trying to sprint to Molly's nose with a wad of Kleenex before she even finished sneezing, since she has displayed record speed in going from sneezing to running snot-covered hands through her hair in about .3 seconds.

Her new word this week is "uh-oh!" which she gleefully exclaims about 400 times a day. At first she would actually WAIT for something to occur which would elicit an "uh-oh" -- for example, a spoon falling on the floor or a toy slipping off a table -- but now, she more or less warns us so that "UH-OH!" has become code for "I AM ABOUT TO HURL SOMETHING, MOST LIKELY SOMETHING THAT WILL STAIN, AT EITHER YOUR HEAD, CLOTHES OR CARPET!! HA HA!!!" The dog leaves the immediate area so quickly when she rears back to toss something that you can almost see the three cartoon speed lines and a puff of smoke trailing him. He's learned that it's safer to snuffle around for food after she has left the area instead of lurking next to her and getting yet another SpongeBob Squarepants animal cracker lodged in his eye.

Sunday evening I returned to Ann Arbor AGAIN as we started dress rehearsals for "West Side Story." Back home at 11:15 pm (60 miles round trip) so that I can start the whole mess again tomorrow. I'm off to go put another $180 worth of gas in my car that will be gone by this evening...

GO IRISH!!