If We Were Brothers...

u photo credit: 1991 Wang Gangfeng/Graphique de France, Boston, USA/Paris, France
How great is this picture? It's a card that my very best galfriend in the whole wide world, as in BFF!, sent to me back in '99. Inside she wrote, "If we were brothers..." What makes it even sweeter is that she's not even asian! I stumbled across it a few months back, and everytime I look at it, I think of her! (Miss ya, now!)

The look on the faces of the two little boys is just too precious...I can't help but wonder what it is that they saw to evoke such great expressions. When my two StinkPups make faces like that, I'm the one that gets awestruck. It's just so pure and alive and in the moment and joyful that I get the same expression too. The three of us...with our mouths open, in moments of sheer wow-dom.

They also cause me to make faces that must hide or mask those very same expressions too! Just the other day BabyStinkPup was jumping all over the rug at the CVS while I was waiting in line...he was all excited about the PushPop I said he could get. He danced and spun around in revelrous glee...It kind of resembled break dancing actually,... all the while saying the word PushPop over and over again...which would have been fine, had he not been substituting the "SH" in push with, "SSEE"--Do you get what I'm saying here?? -Yeee-aaaah...that one was kind of hard to ignore! My mind was racing with thoughts like, "Holy Shit! This is so0o0o embarrassing, yet TOTALLY FUCKING HILARIOUS that I want to laugh out loud!" to..."I wonder if the lady behind me is hearing what he's saying and comprehending his true meaning...that it's a PUSH pop...Okay, mortified!!!" I was thinking these things and yet, just nodding quietly at him, smiling slightly, and shush-ing him ever so little...my face actually hurt trying to suppress my mouth-gaping, booming laugh urges. Ah BabyStinkPup...you never cease to amaze your momma with your two year old potty mouth! This very moment he's telling Mr. BigStink, "I got big Woody, dad! A big Woody!" --As in Woody from "Toy Story"...I swear Disney did that on purpose..."Dad! I want a big Buzz!" Every parent I know that owns "Toy Story" characters has said their child has said pretty much the same thing...they all have big woody's. Nice.

Alrighty then...moving onward...Yesterday, while I was roaming around Barnes&Noble in my usual, I've got a stomache ache, and can't find a book I want to read fog, CStink was out and about in her Disco, avec Kuukie Christo, looking for more companies to donate to the StinkPups' school charity event that we've been volunteering for. One of the places she stopped at, a big corporation whose holdings include a very well known sporting goods manufacturer, gave her treatment that equaled the same, "Get Smart", effect of a series of doors and gates sliding and slamming shut in her face. She's lucky she didn't get her nose pinched. (For all you youngin's out there, Get Smart was a fantastic tv sitcom about a private agent named Maxwell Smart, and his hot cohort, Agent 99.) She text messaged me with their resounding, "NO!" answer. --The bastards! (Sure, it's a private school, but they have their own wants and needs and desires just as much as the local barely accredited public schools do! ) SHEESH. i mean, really now! Can't we all just get along?

It got me thinking that the only reason I was able to get anyone to donate is because I had approached only little Mom&Pop establishments with my --drop a letter off and run tail-tucked away-- method. The places she was approaching were on uppercrust, deep-pocketed echelons...all with giant beaurocratic red tape flags flying out front. I must admire CStink for trying to wrangle with the big boyz. If we were an hi/low outfit on a charity mannequin, she would be the Proenza Schouler top, and I would be the Luella for Target jeans.

So I say to you, CStink...You go girl! Kick down the metal doors of establishment and give them a proverbial kick in the bum until their wallets fall out, then head lock them with talks of tax deductions and community participation blah blah blah until they pony up some stuff for the event! What's the name of that Hilary Swank boxing movie? The title's escaping me...anyway, get in the ring sistah, and fight, fight, fight! I am serious when I say that I will not be one least bit surprised when CStink shows up at school and pulls a promise letter for an all inclusive, all expenses paid trip to Aruba out of the back pocket of her James jeans! Woo hoo!

Okay, so par for the course, I've got another stomach ache, plus I need to go get a wet towel so I clean up all of my verbal vomit from the keyboard...I will leave you with the words of my old landlord Doris, who was Jewish, but not a New Yorker, but had a thick Queens accent nonetheless...who once said to me, "Asians and Jews! They can't digest anything!!!" then followed it up with a hearty Fran Drescher laugh...God she was so great! (Doris, not Fran.)

P-P-P-PEACE OUT!

GNO MORE GNATS!

CStink, your post "Cerebral Barf" was SO great! I laughed out loud at your line, "The person in charge of securing donations for the school is such a manipulative, diabolical brown-noser. " Oh no you dit-ent! Oh, and on the whole hippie thing? Right there with you on that one...The Grateful Dead?...Um...not so much. Sorry to all you spinners out there...they just don't do it for me. Never have, never will. Not knocking them, just not in love with them, is all I'm saying! (Spinners referring to the way Dead Heads dance...spinning around in endless circles, in a whirl of tye die and indian print skirts...)

Getting back to Cerebral Barf, thanks for the props, CStink. I must tell you, there's nothing like being a pandering charity whore to boost your feelings of accomplishment in an otherwise unfulfilling day-to-day existence. All I have to do is start my 'donation' shpeal and I'm already watching people's eyes glaze over and beginning to dismiss me...they're already walking away from me before I've even finished my first sentence. Yeah..this is that "getting kicked in your teeth everyday" feeling that Mr. BigStink faces working in outdoor sales. But, my asshole-ish, ignorant, bullish ways makes me forge on and get a bit indignant at their rudeness, so I somehow end up luring them back with my 'kill them with kindness' demeanor. (read: grit your teeth smile with seething rage oozing out of my ears, but nonetheless sweet sounding, grand, sweeping grateful overtones...) And, somehow, I've managed to gather a few things up for the event! My most effective way thus far is to call up and ask who the contact person is, then drop off a letter and say I will call back for an answer. Very effective and cuts down on the flustered stumbling of my words...

Meanwhile, on another note...CStink and I were at school yesterday morning yucking it up in our raucous ways with a good laugh or two after drop off; I was sitting in my Disco, and she was standing outside my window on the driveway (wearing a kickass black fitted nehru collared, sporty zip up rubberized looking jacket that I was totally coveting, btw). While we were talking, there were these little f'ing annoying black gnats swarming us like locust plague and we had to wave our hands around our heads in this maniacal voodoo, arm sweeping manner to shoo them away. From a distance, we must have looked crazy, the two of us talking, laughing and swatting madly at eachother and ourselves for no apparent reason! Anyway...we came to the realization that since we had both been traitors to the Stink and recently showered, that the bugs were attracted to us from the scent of soap. Of course, this could only lead me to the StinkWayOfLife-upholding-conclusion that, Washing on a daily basis does NOT, indeed, always pay off. So those of you headed toward the shower right now, just back away from the bathtub...put the towel down...and think twice before you step in. GNATS! GNATS!

Jane Says...

I picked up the April issue of Jane magazine to check out its new format and design…it’s okay. I liked aspects of it, but all-in-all felt maybe a wee bit too old for its content…that is, until I got to page 152…insert background track of Blur - "Woo-Hoo-ooo!” An article on none other than the number one, all star juicy StinkPoppa, Johnny Depp! Writer Jackie Rose recounts her per chance meeting with Johnny at of all places…a play group in Montreal. (SHIT! I’ve suffered through MANY play groups in my day, what the hell? It’s just so unfair! I’m sounding like a Stinkpup, I know!) She said moms were scrambling for their diaper bags for lip gloss and pulling their ponytail holders out…basic quiet pandemonium typical girly shit…ha! SO great. He was there with his son, Jack, and as luck would have it, Rose’s daughter and Jack played together, affording her the opportunity to speak with …sigh!...HIM! PapaStinkDepp!

To me, the best line of the entire piece was when she wrote, “…Up close, Johnny was divine. He had leather cords around his wrists and tiny tattoos on his hands. His sexy, greasy hair was tucked beneath a ratty cap. He smelled vaguely of feet and cigarettes that had been half-smoked and pocketed for later. Heaven….”

YES! I concur!!! HEAVEN! See? I KNEW he was an upholder of the Stink! I just knew it! In all my days at CNN, he never once came into the studio for an interview…and every fashion show he attended while dating Kate Moss, coincidentally, I wasn’t at…it wasn’t until after my EIGHT YEAR stint at the network was over that I get a call from not one, but several former co-workers telling me that he had come into the studio. Picture Korean girl on her knees, clutching the phone, and screaming upward toward the echoing, darkening, purple sky…"NOOO-OOOOO!” Birds flying from trees, wolves howling at the moon, and rivers reversing tides…Universal injustice! When I get up enough StinkGumption, I will post about the time I actually did meet him…when I was in college…at an auto show in Hartford, CT. It’s just too embarrassing to talk about…but I WILL say this. He is the yummiest man to ever walk the face of the earth! (And, don’t go feeling badly for Mr. BigStink. He entered into marriage union with me fully briefed on my Johnny-4-evah stance, and toted in his own Michelle Pfieffer lust bucket to boot.)

So, in conclusion, getting back to the whole Jane article and the fact that I hoity-toitily thought I was too old for their content…all I have to say is, Who the fuck was I kidding? The magazine had me going to sleep with big ol’ Tiger Beat and Sixteen Magazine pink puffy smoke hearts curling over my bed, and as I closed my eyes I could almost see my old Andy Gibb and Shawn Cassidy posters hanging above me. That was some good shit, Jackie Rose. Some gooo-ood shit!

Hey, Connie Chung!!! If Margaret Cho and Kate Moss had a baby...

Over at one of my daily stops, Metrodad, a reader asked him a question along the lines of, "If your life were a tv sitcom, who would you cast as yourself?" or something like that. Anyway, it got me thinking, hmmm...who would I pick to play me and Mr. BigStink?

Mr. BigStink would have to be portrayed by Bob Parr...Know who he is? He's Mr. Incredible's alias, and he looks a bit like my beloved giant, Mr. BS. Even the Stinkpups think so.

For myself? Well, I have been called "Connie Chung" for man-ny, man-ny years, even by my own father, who has been chased down himself several times with people INSISTING that he's Pat Morita. He's even given autographs to them just to shut them up and get away because they refused to believe he wasn't Mr. Ohara/Happy Days/Karate Kid/MASH guy. People from Scott Weiland, to co-workers, to random Hispanic men on the streets of Manhattan, have called me out as the famous newsbroadcaster...(Why several Hispanic men in particular saw this in me, I don't know, but they still felt compelled to yell her name out at me, as I passed by...) I just don't see it.
Then there was the period of very short hair and Joan Chen references...She was in "Twin Peaks" and "The Last Emperor". (My grandfather once worked for the Last Emperor of China, Emperor Pu Yi....So cool! My mom was very little, and they lived in Manchuria at the time. Then they moved back to Korea. Love the history...love it! ) Anyway, back to it..Joan, she's just so demure and fair skinned, feminine and soft spoken. Not at all like I picture myself...short hair or not!

While I was working at a sports dot.com one of the editorial assistants there created a fake movie open starring all of the employees and he cast Tia Carrere as me...Very flattering being she's so darn pretty and all, but when I see her all I think is, "Neh...not her either."

Once, at Bed, Bath and Beyond, the woman at the register was eyeing me incredulously and said, "You look just like Margaret Cho!" ...Wha??? No way! THEN, I see her standup performance, The Notorious CHO, and I think to myself...Um...Okay, so I DO kind of see a resemblance. In an, 'all asians look alike, mixed with me and my cousin Erin kind of way.' Yes...YES, I see it!

So now I'm thinking to myself...Okay, in a perfect world...and this is MY sitcom so you can just shut it! I would have to say that I would probably smash Margaret Cho's and my beloved Kate Moss' DNA together to create the famous person to cast as me!

Check it out...

Picture on the left

+Picture on the right

= MOI!

Yes?...No? YES!

As for the StinkPups, I'd have to call up Ford Model Management's children's division and have them send us some portfolios, cuz there aren't any gorgeous half asian famous children out there, and Keanu's way too old!

Lordy this is registering very high on the StinkDork factor, I know, but shit, how I love wasting my diminished brain cells on this kind of stuff! So CStink, I ask you...whom would you pick to play yourself and Kuukie?

CR-RR-RA-AAAP! I spent all this time doing a nice little postey-post last night and
didn't pay attention to the "scheduled maintenance" notice on Blogger until the last moment when I tried to save it as draft, and then POOF! My post...gone into the universe. I'm such a dumbass!

With our wireless signal gone, and being relegated back to dial up for now, I'm none too enthused about redoing the whole thing...may have to go trolling for bandwidth later with the laptop in hopes of getting re-inspired to rewrite.

Have a good day stinky-doos. (I'm one day out of a shower, BTW, and looking just stinkerbelle as can be! Better than yesterday when I was actually clean, come to think of it...at least in my stinky, humble opinion)

This little piggy...with some socks and a book...

BabyStinkPup has some very pudgy, adorable dumpling shaped feet...couldn't resist posting this pic. of his juicy little toes, on which he kindly let me apply some nail polish, resulting in what looks like ten little jelly beans...

Speaking of feet...I just cast on my very first attempt at socks, and I'm really not sure what I'm in for. Already F'ed them up once and had to frog off 10 rows and start from scratch, but I'm in the groove now, so we shall see...I chose the Knitty Hedera Socks from the current issue as they seem not too too challenging, though I do love a challenge...can't seem to take the easy way when learning something new, which in and of itself is kind of messed up, no?

Let's see if I come down with the ADHD Single Sock Syndrome I've read about on other blogs whereby you get all addicted to sock knitting, but knit only one side, and end up with a bunch of single socks in your drawer...sounds right up my alley. The other challenge seems to be getting the socks to come out the same size...But I'm up for it, I am! More on this thrilling topic later...I'll be sure to send you a tissue to wipe up the boredom drool from your keyboards...

On another exciting note, I finally picked up a copy of The Da Vinci Code. Thought I was about the last person around to be reading it, but the gal at Barnes checkout said she hadn't read it yet either...I held out for a good long while 'cuz I'm not much for jumping on the bandwagon of popular trends, particularly modern fiction because I'm a self-admitted snob and hate to go with the flow...but I knew I would like it by virtue of the subject...and dare I say, I am enjoying it immensely. I am a lover of all things Da Vinci, and also have liked subjects delving into religious history. One of my favorite books is Umberto Eco's The Name of The Rose, and would love to read, Foucault's Pendulum. It is my intention to read it...when I find it that is...It's buried in a box in who knows which state at this point in our nomadic life.

Just like everything else, I am finicky about books...I love to read, yet I have a hard time choosing new ones that I may find interesting. Mostly I stick with the classics or non-fiction/biographies because there just seems to be so much crap out there in contemporary fiction. I have read a few of the chick bestsellers, like Nanny Diaries, Bridget Jones, and Devil Wears Prada, of which were all nice, quick, easy beach reads, but to tell you the truth, with two kids, I don't have the luxury of reading on the beach anymore, so when I do pick something now, I want it to have some real meat on its bones. Because of my shitty ass picky ways, I usually walk out of the bookstore sighing, with a bag of magazines. The last book I read was Brokeback Mountain. It was good. I haven't seen the movie yet...which brings me to my next thing...if a movie is based on a book, I prefer to read the book before seeing the film. This is another reason I chose DaVinci Code, because a movie is in the works. You just, in my lowly opinion, get so much more out of it if you know the story behind it...

Mr. BigStink is not a knitter or a reader, or a blogger, so he's just happy when, after I've finally made my project choice, that I hurry up and finish whatever it is I'm working on, because all of it, in his eyes, are just further detraction and distraction from the daily housework and upkeep of our home. Let me tell you, when Mr. BigStink pulls up in the driveway and dismounts from his horse called Chauvanism, and walks into the house and finds me on the computer or knitting, or reading...you can bet AStink's gonna get some kind of annoyed disparaging look or lecture because things have yet to be cleaned up...What can I say...I suck at the domestics, I know! One day I will have my shit together...one day, I promise!

Okay, Mr. Juicy Dumpling Feet Jelly Bean Toes is calling me away from the computer...Have a good one. ---AStink, signing off!

Props to a StinkMoss

StinkMums love themselves some Kate Moss, BIGTIME! She is The One. Check out this picture of her in the latest Nikon ads taken from a NYTimes article on little Ms. Moss: Clothed, unclothed, straight, sober, mess in a dress, modeling, singing, acting, dj'ing...she can do no wrong in our eyes. We were discussing her today, and as CStink aptly put it, she always, always gets it right. I said how her crooked teeth, slightly lazy eye, and almost bowed legs only serve to endear her to me even more. The only thing that got me thinking, "Huh...don't get it..." about her was her attraction to Pete Doherty...It just didn't seem to add up, those two...they didn't look or feel right together... in a Bennifer kind of strain (as in Lopez Ben/Jen, not Garner). I don't know...in pics together he just looks really...just...kind of...lucky, I guess. Going to have to give the Libertines and Babyshambles another go 'round to see if I can maybe get it from an artistic point of view, 'cuz I certainly am not getting it visually! (She's looking very Stinkmum-ish, in this pic to the right, mucking thru the mud in her Wellies...which BTW, I have been asking Mr. BigStink to buy me for the past year and a half and still have yet to receive them...read in British accent: "The bloody daft fool!") Anyway, our KM must've seen something in him...I've given merit to some seriously fugly men in my time...outwardly and inwardly fugly...with no real rhyme or reason...I chalk it up to my own youthful stupidity. She too is, afterall, only human, like the rest of us...just in this fabulous, untouchable, infallible, yet identifiable kind of way. I have seen her more than a few times backstage and on the runway, and let me tell you, she is even MORE beautiful in person. (So is Naomi.)

To me, her days with Johnny D., my love and male The One, were a dead on perfect match. It only makes sense that my two favorites make an ideal couple. I mean, Vanessa Paradis is very stylish and interesting to look at, but she's too, too skinny-minnie lately...I digress...back to our beloved Kate...

After years of adoring her, I love that she's a mum now...little baby Kate/Lila Grace with papa Jefferson Hack...

My only questions now are...How often is she showering now that she's a mum...and...How many Disco's does she own? (At income levels exceeding 9Million a year, the question's not whether she owns a Disco...but how many...) She could very well be a StyleMum AND a Stinkicon!

What you do-oing?

CStink wants, and so shall she have...Here's my draft from yesterday. ( I would have published it right away, but her post Haired Straight was so F'ing brilliant that I just couldn't get myself to post above it!) Anyhoo, here it be:

Um, yeah, so I'm sitting in the Disco right now, outside of the local shopping mall, sucking bandwidth from the coffee shop because our wireless connection at home dried up! Let me tell you, spring has sproinged in Stinkville, and it's f'ing hot in this car! Thank God I've been such a traitor to the stink lately and have been showering. Can you just imagine how bad it would be in a hot car, and being unshowered...anyway, I was sitting here checking email when I see this couple walk past and the girl was wearing pink flannel boxer shorts with candy Valentine hearts all over it...they were so short and tight, and flannel-y, and jiggly...she kind of reminded me of the daughter in the movie "Spanglish", if you've seen it...All I can say is, What the hell was she thinking going out in public like that?!

One thing about springtime that harkens me back to my NYC days, is that at the first sign of warm weather, all of the East Village would be out in force, with their arms and legs bared, all pasty white with dry, ruddy, spotty, winter-stained skin and ashy tattoos showing...seriously, it wasn't pretty. Nothing that a bit of self-tanner or at the very least, some moisturizer couldn't fix...Eeesh...this is what the Spanglish boxer shorts girl was like. All paper white legs and...shudder! Enough!

Today we stopped by the local bike shop to get the brakes on our jogger fixed. This young dude with indie hairdo was bent down checking out the front wheel when BabyStinkPup walks up to him...lets out a big, low resounding, 3 second fart, and says, "What you doo-ing?" then gives him a big snuggle hug 'round his neck. It was hilarious and sweet and cute and precious! I don't know what indiebikeshop dude thought, but he smiled at least! It's not every day that you get farted on and hugged all at once by an adorable little kid. Or maybe that's only something a mother could appreciate...either way, God, I just love my Stinkpups! They never cease to amaze or thrill me with their random unruly, loving ways!

PS It's just HI-larious that for as much as I covet CStink's hair waves and try to get my own to curl up, she's busy trying to get hers to relax! I went to sleep with braids in the other night and awoke to a scary fried calamari effect...AAIIEEEEE! And, now being one day out from a shower, slept on, bunned up, let down, added with some au natural scalp dirt and a little over the counter product, my hair has achieved the kind of wave to be looking the way I want it to...but shit, it's just too much work, I tell you! Who has this kind of time??? I'll tell you whom, it's the kind reserved for married chicks with round the clock au pairs or nannies that have the luxury of time to spend on themselves without feeling rushed...Of which I am not privvy to! Not that I'm complaining...snicker!

Tagged...

If you see a tag like this one...you'll know that StinkMums were here...



We are everywhere! You may be standing next to a StinkMum without even knowing it, 'cuz afterall, we're undercoverstinks...always on the move! The best part of being a Stinkmum is that we know how to disguise the stinkfactor. CStink and I may offer a class to the stinkchallenged on how to get away with not showering on a daily basis...how to pass yourself off as clean, so to speak. There's just too much to do in a day to stop and scrub the...whatever's needing to be scrubbed out! Stay tuned...and keep a look out! Coming to a town near YOU.

Traitor to the Stink

Aaah...it's so nice to be freshly clean and showered! If I had one of these jet steam showers...I would probably never leave it:

And it would go in a house kind of like this...

which, by the way, is actually a Villa Sibi dollhouse that you can purchase at Sparkability for $690.00, but it does come with a garden, pool, and a poolhouse...!

Doo-It-Up

Since we moved into this house in September there have been a few instances of people walking through our yard, walking their dogs down the private lane...letting them poop on our grass...smiling, telling us their our neighbor, but never introducing themselves because assumingly, they were embarrassed to have been caught wandering through private property in the first place. Just yesterday when we pulled into our drive, a woman was standing in our back yard staring at the nextdoor neighbor's house. She turned and started walking away, only stopping to say, "Hi, I live over there..." ....Once I saw a neighbor standing on the lane staring right into our diningroom window. "Dah heck?!"

Audacity is the word that pops into me feeble little raisin-dried up brain. CStink and I have discussed how audacious people are and how we would NEVER think of doing such things as walking across someone else's lawn, or cutting someone in line, or just plain ignoring someone that asks us a question...these are things that happen on a regular basis...Just the other day she came home to find the neighbor's landscapers trucks parked all over her yard. Again I ask..."Dah heck?!" She too has found her yard to be the local pooppitstop for her neighborhood dog walkers...but I will have her elaborate on her and Kuukie's retaliations to that situation in her own post because it's so genius!

Both Mr. BigStink and I love dogs, and we look forward to having one of our own...but I would never allow a dog of ours to go around and doo-it-up on someone else's property...I wonder how would the neighbors feel if we let the stinkpups pull down their pants and poop on their yards? Better yet...I'll just let Mr. BigStink unleash a cabin onto their grass in some midnight mission and have them wake up wondering if they need to cut back on their dog's meal portions...I know...I'm just being immature, but hey...it's ridiculous that I have to worry about the kids stepping in doo-doo in our own yard when we don't even have a dog! Okay, going to stop the poop-rant now, cuz I'm tired of talking about it!

"People try to put us down...Talkin' 'bout my generation..."

This article, "Up With Grups", in last week's New York Magazine was a smug piece that labeled aging Gen X'ers as basically trying to resist getting older by wearing young clothes, having a lot of sneakers, putting rock tee-shirts on their kids, and listening to cool music...Just to sum it all up.

The term "grup", a contraction of the word, 'grownup' is an awful word, don't you think?! It sounds like some gross slug thing that you might find suctioned to your body when you've just waded through a river. If you're going to RE-LABEL a generation, specifically, MY generation...does it have to be so gauche sounding?

We were the generation thrown into the working world at the height of a recession, unable to find work, we were labeled as slackers, Generation X, also, ugh...grunge. We've been called lazy, and whiners, and were often "under-employed"...meaning magna cum laude chick with a degree in chemical engineering serving up fries at the local drive-thru cuz there was no job in her intended field...and now GRUPS??

The article itself, I felt, lacked focus and could have been cut down by 1/3rd in length...it sort of meandered back and forth between saying Grups were cool, to making the group out to be a bunch of inane, immature, anti-aging mongers...

So, what of it? Did it all add up to any important message? Not really...because singling out the entire age group as being this way could only come from the microcosmic view of one living in an urban dwelling, and let me tell you...there are very few people who look or act like that around these here parts. Most of the people my age that I have seen up here in eastbumblefuck dress more like dad than dude...I never see HotPops with messenger bags in Levi's and cool kicks jumping out of their shit-hot rides at the pick up line at school...I see polo shirts tucked waaaay into baggy 90's jeans, tightly belted mid-belly, with dorkReeboks and hairy arms climbing down from their minivans...that's what I see, I say! And the women? Well, they all look pretty much the same as the men, only their jeans are even higher waisted...CStink calls them, "momjeans", and boy is she right on with that one! I think she and I are two of the very few thong baring when we bend over to tie a shoe-jeans moms on campus...which are a dime a dozen in any shopping mall or urban setting...it's just not prevalent in our daily rotation....and, YES, I still wear my old rock tees...why just yesterday I wore my Quadrophenia tee-shirt...sure it's too short now, and rolled up over my big jelly bean belly, and the sleeves were cutting off the circulation in my porkchop arms...but I covered all the scary parts up with a sweater, all right?! Sheesh! Yeah, so I still wear it because I'm clinging onto my days when I was single and 113lbs., and attended rock shows and kissed cute boys and had no responsibilities whatsoever...NOT! I wore it because I love it...and by the way, I also had on a pair of the biggest maternity underwear you could possibly imagine because that's all that were left in my undie drawer because I need to do laundry... So, GRUP YOU!!!

PS -- CStink looked all yumma-mumma today at school in her cool jeans tucked into some kickass brown leather high heeled boots... She was probably making the dads in the school car pickup line drool puddles into the laps of their 90's jeans as she walked up to the building. She was with AFutureStinkMum, single and also stylin', so there was probably double the drool. I can just see it now...these dads get home from school and their wives look at them and say, "Honey, did you wet your pants?"

PIT ROT

Poor Stinkpups…they seem to have inherited their mother’s bad teeth…Mr. BigStink has big, healthy, straight, rock-hard teeth…It’s just his mouth that’s foul!!! I’ve been riddled with dental problems since I was little. And, just like me, the Pups have also become massive teeth grinders…(BigStinkPup has ground his four top front teeth down by a third…the dentist said not to worry, and that it usually ceases once adult teeth come in.)

Even braces didn’t work on me…I had them in the 10th grade, and when they came off, they were so pretty and straight…but the retainer…that thing hurt so much…like my whole head was in a vice. I would wake up in the middle of the night and it would be gone…Once I actually thought I must have chewed it up in my sleep and swallowed it because I couldn’t find it anyplace. I eventually located it…it was under my bed. How the hell it got under there from the inside of my mouth is just so crazy to even think about. Anyway…my top teeth are now back to being crooked. Yay.

BigStinkPup just had two cavities filled, and he’s only five. There were sizeable spaces between his two back molars on both sides, and that’s where the decay formed. He was terrified to go to the dentist. I blame it on the movie, Finding Nemo, with that scary ass dentist and his drill. I basically had to beg, cajole and bribe him to go. Well, let me tell you…once we got there…he freaking LOVED it. They’re uber-decked out with all the bells and whistles at this dentist office…From the fish pond in the backyard, to the flat screens mounted on the ceilings, headphones, free chapstick and sunglasses…not to mention the giant toy chest that the kids can choose a toy out of…BigStinkPup was in Heaven. He could barely suppress his smile as the x-ray machine circled around his head, while he bit down on the mouth piece and held onto the handles. He thought it was like something straight out of Star Wars. The dentist said he was a “delightful patient”. I was so relieved, and also happy the whole thing was over…BTW, I made sure not to open my mouth too widely when we were there, in fear of them seeing the cavernous mess and them recoiling in fear…Shit, I really need to make an appointment. It’s been way too long.

So…the other day, I’m brushing BabyStinkPup’s teeth, and I see that he has two tiny pits appearing on the front of his little top canine’s. Like two small pin holes. I think to myself, “Oh, great…PIT-ROT”…I can only hope he does as well as his big brother did at the dentist, because we have an appointment today.

Speaking of PIT-ROT! I actually got that word from Mr. BS’s older brother. I call him BIL, as in, duh, Brother-In-Law. I know, I’m a dork, whatever, getting back to the story…BIL has three kids and their youngest, they call her Wheezy for short, used to fall asleep with her bottle, and milk would trickle out of her mouth, down her face, and into the crack of her armpit. She had a recurring rash develop from it, and they had to put this special ointment on it to make it go away…BIL called it PIT-ROT, too good of a term not to use again!

PS. A friend of mine once pointed out to me that the word ointment is a really gross sounding word to say aloud. Go ahead…say it once…out loud…OINT-MENT. Hahaha…still makes me laugh every time!

Beautiful And Creepy, All At Once

I’m standing in the bathroom at the sink, and I see in the mirror that my roots are getting very long…and I see my usual crop of greys starting to pop up again. So I grab a tweezer and start to weed them out. I snag one and take a look at it and think, “Holy shit, that’s a long piece of hair.” Being the punkass dork that I am, I get a nerdy compulsion to know exactly how long it is, and get tape measure out and see that it is 25.5” long. My total height is only 64”, so if I don’t get a haircut soon, I could potentially achieve Cousin It status within a year or so…

We live in a pretty remote, summer community and quite a few of the year-rounders here are very interesting to say the least. There’s a vast range of incomes in the town, and it’s often quite apparent at the small local grocery market. In the parking lot it’s pickups and Porsches…tractors and Mercedes. You get to see some really great salty dogs at the market…the kind that make me wish I had a camera on me to capture their greatness…like the sunburnt, wire-haired, wooly bearded guy who wears only overalls, and has a piece of driftwood tied with rope to his truck that he uses as a running board to get climb in. The StinkPups said he looked like Santa… Then there’s this man I saw just once…it was so great…He had grey hair and wore a tweed blazer with his pants tucked into a pair of mud-caked Wellies, like he’d just ridden off the stable and into the grocery store parking lot. So unaffected, yet so wonderfully earnest and classic in style! Loved it.

The Pups and I were at the market to pick up some things yesterday when a woman passed by us…I almost fell over when I saw her…she was slim, with a corduroy red button down shirt, and a long, thick grey braid that went down her back and reached to the back of her calves. It swayed back and forth like a horses tail when she walked. It was beautiful and creepy all at once. When I think back on it, I am reminded of the picture of that man in the Guinness Book of World Records that had the record for the longest fingernails…all long, striped, twirly, curly and gnarly! It was fascinating to see, and yet gross at the same time. That’s the feeling I got from seeing this woman’s hair at the market. That being said, I am booking a haircut appointment this week.

I Smell Salad...

I am in no way a good housekeeper. My house is one giant stack of stuff that needs to be cleaned out, and all of it is pretty much covered in a layer of dust and Cheerios. My laundry piles of clean and dirty are indiscernible from each other because I hate to fold and do not ever iron. The house we are living in right now has no dishwasher, so we hand wash…well, you can only imagine what the kitchen sink looks like…

It’s pretty sad to me how messy I can be, being that I grew up in an immaculately clean house. My sweet mom, who passed away just mere months ago, and tears are welling in my eyes just typing this…she was an amazing woman...able to hold down a fulltime job and maintain a sparkling home…no dishwasher, no laundry piles, no maids, and never, ever any dust. She was SuperMom. Okay…getting back to it, because speaking of her in the past tense is ripping my heart out of my chest right now…

I’m not 100% green, but when it comes to cleaning up around the house, I won’t use harsh chemicals around the StinkPups. No harsh cleaners, pesticides, no herbicides, and no antibacterial soaps, no spray air fresheners…You get the idea… I have a kickass steam cleaner that can blast the petrified food that has dried like cement onto BabyStinkPup’s booster seat, and it kills lurky-lurky germs in the bathroom. For the rest I use baking soda and vinegar. It requires more elbow grease, but all worth it nonetheless for the safety of the StinkPups and good ol’ Mother Earth, right? Hey, I’m trying in my own small way to do my part…

I make my own concoction of water, vinegar, and dishsoap to spray down surfaces. It works just fine, and also wards of mold, bugs, etc. Vinegar, it’s a do-all product and I have grown extremely accustomed to its noxious odor. My latest all purpose cleaner included a shot of Method Cucumber dishwashing liquid…I used it last night to wipe down the diningroom table. I could feel the mist hitting my arms as I sprayed and I know that I must have smelled like vinegar and cucumber afterwards…So basically, if I’ve cleaned, then I must be walking around smelling like salad…or some freaky douche-y stink...being that I’m not able to smell myself because I’m so used to it, I can only conclude that I’m living in my own stink ignorance.
So if an Asian chick gets out of a Disco, walks past you and you get a whiff of Greek Salad or hell, I don’t know…Tuna Niscoise? It just might be me. Say hello…or skank away from me as fast as you need too…either way, I’ll understand.

A New York Moment...

When I first graduated college and moved to NY, my first apartment there was in Brooklyn. (A time when I was single, young, and washed myself daily.) I had a pretty decent walk to the subway, and from there, had to transfer trains once till I finally arrived at my work destination in midtown. There were times that the trains were so crowded, it was unbearable. Nothing worse than having strangers pressed up all around you, shoulder-to-shoulder, with more people trying to squeeze into the cars at each stop. We were shunted back and forth, and often these sardine-packed times were the ones when there were these unexplained long pauses in transit. The train would be just sitting there in some dark tunnel…filled with hundreds of commuters…all trying to pretend that their personal spaces weren’t being completely violated. You gotta hand it to New Yorkers…a fierce crew with the best survival instincts. Anyway, being that close, you would get the random whiffs of fart, or B.O., but to me, the worst would be getting stuck next to someone that had doused themselves in perfume or cologne. It’s akin to getting gassed, and with each breath, your nostrils and mouth are being filled with this putrid odor that someone actually PAID for. Ack. God, do I not miss living in NY.

Once on the way home, the subway stopped in the tunnel just before the station in Chinatown…we were there for about 20 minutes…annoyance levels rising…the train wasn’t crowded, but still…What’s the holdup? Then the train doors connecting to the car in back of ours opened and all of these riders were streaming through our car…seemingly to get away from something…Okay, this was getting stranger. Still no announcement from the loudspeaker saying what was going on. THEN, we see policemen through the windows sprinting through the tunnel to get to a car somewhere behind us…Come to find out that there had been some sort of altercation…a stabbing or something like that had occurred on the train.

When we finally pulled into the Chinatown stop, which was just mere feet from where we were stopped, the station was filled to the platform edge with Chinese people. After all, we were in Chinatown, right? Yet, the doors didn’t open…At this point, all of us riders are looking out the window at the people waiting to board…and then we hear shouting voices in the distance…and see more policemen running towards the tunnel entrance. Then, all at once, and I kid you not, the crowd of people on the platform look to the right towards the tunnel, and all together, they start running in the opposite direction! A mass exodus of Asians fleeing…there was no screaming or panic involved, only movement…I think I may have even seen some of them smiling…We have no idea what they saw…but I tell you…and being Asian myself, what happened next, I found hilarious,…one of the passengers on our car says aloud…”It looks like a scene from a Godzilla movie…” Everyone laughed, and it was a great stress reliever. After that, the doors opened, and passengers boarded the car...and we were on our way. Chalk it up to another example of a classic New York moment. God, do I miss living in NY.

Kuukie Went to Canada With The Farm Bureau...

How great is that line??? It's so sweet how much CStink loves her Kuukie.
She showed up at school today looking all Yummy-Mummy for a meeting that got cancelled, but now that Kuukie's hitting town tonight, he will get to reap the benefits of her stylicious nature.

We were both rockin' the StinkLite today, though I wonder if the two of us standing together constitutes a StinkCollective in which we double the stinky-ness and cancel out the fact that we both showered...yesterday!

Hey CStink,...did you see that mom in the Disco drive past us in the school parking lot today? We should sidle up to her while she's waiting in the pick up line, knock on her window, and when she opens it, ask her if she showers on a daily basis...YA NEVAH KNOW!

SSSSSSpoon...

I was over at Dooce the other day, reading her post about her daughter and how she pronounces the word lotion as shoshun. Very cute! We have little words like that in our house too...provided by our very verbal two year old, BabyStinkPup. He says, wittle for little, and things that require mom-only translations like socka-berry, which I finally deciphered as, chocolate factory...as in, "Willy Wonka and the..". Also cute, right? Another one of the words he has yet to grasp proper pronunciation of is the word, spoon. (See where I am going with this one?) He calls it a poon. As in, "I need a poon." or, "I'm getting myself a poon."

It's sound SO inappropriate and yet, hilarious at the same time. I haven't called it to Mr. BigStink's attention, but I have heard him correct babyStinkpup over it...He'll say, "It's a sssssssspoon." And when I've searched Mr.BS's face for some sign of the hilarity, I do think I have seen the shadow of a smirk...but who knows!

Our BigStinkPup used to say die, instead of 'bye when he was two...He would have this big open mouth smile on his face and wave goodbye to people, saying in a deep voice, "Diiiiieeeee." Mr.BS and I used to crack up over this. Shit, we're a morbid crew, aren't we just?

PS...I'm so far out from a shower that I can't quite recall the last time...What day was it? Eh, it doesn't matter. No matter which way you look at it, I stink! I am deluding myself out of the grossness of it all by once again telling myself that I am just doing my part to conserve energy and limited resources by using less hot water out of respect to Mother Earth. Yup...

Cluttered Counter...Cluttered Mind

I'm making lunch today, and notice our cluttered countertop, of which I have placed 100% of the items onto. (The mess actually extends further, but it's out of frame.)
Upon further observation...it's all just a random pile of crap that needs to be put away, and I think also a telling look at my state of mind lately...cluttered with crap that needs to be cleaned up and put away...or thrown out. 

Ultimately, I Blame You...and Ninja Stars

Poor Mr. BigStink. I have such a forked-tongue, and he is often on the receiving end of it's lash simply by just being home. A tame example of this would be this morning when I awoke to the sound of my baby Stinkpup, telling me basically, that he had pee'd his sheets...he'd exceeded maximum capacity on the diaper overnight...not his fault. Anyway, after peeling off the wet pj's, washing him off in the tub, and stripping down the crib sheets, I walk over to Mr. BS and say..."Ultimately...I blame you for this..." To which he looks at me quizzically...and I say, very calmly..."Because YOU are the one that gave him the Y chromosome, that made him a boy, which gave him a penis, to piss out the top of his diaper..." And I turn in a huff, piss sheets in hand, and stomp off...leaving him probably wondering why he ever married me...

Then, later on when he was walking away from me having made some snide Mr. BS comment in the way he does...I picked up one of the kid's toys within my reach --a small plastic pretend piece of mail -- and with one quick flip of the wrist, flicked it across the room, and Ninja-starred him in the back with it. When he turned around to look at me, I just shrugged and said, "Asian instincts..." and went back to my business.

Life in AStink's house...gotta love it.

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Hey! CStinkmum! Check this out...David Sedaris is appearing live:

"Tuesday, April 4, 2006 - The Bushnell, Hartford, CT. For tickets call: (860) 987-5900. Website: www.bushnell.org

Wednesday, April 5, 2006 - Palace Theater, Stamford, CT. For tickets (on sale 8/1/05) call: (800) 233-3123. Website: www.onlyatsca.com"

On The Street

One of my favorite sections in the NYTimes is, "On the Street", by NYT's veteran photographer, Bill Cunningham.

I used to love watching him take pictures around the tents at the fashion shows at Bryant Park and catching glimpses of him around Manhattan. He rides around the city on a classic Schwinn looking bike...can't recall if there's a basket on it or not...and he has this demeanor about him like that of a refined sixties former beat generation dude with his cleanly parted white hair, khaki's, crewneck sweaters and windbreaker car coat...His eye for what's going on style-wise on the streets of the cities around the globe is very keen and I look forward to seeing them every Sunday.

Here's a look at today's edition:

BTW, ...CStink,...Check out the women in the upper right hand corner with the pink Maclaren stroller...Can you imagine us rolling up to school and jumping out of the Discos to load up the kids wearing outfits like those?! Woo-hoo! God, I love Manhattan mums!

Mr. BigStink thinks...

So my husband told me he doesn't like being referred to as, Mr. BigStink, because he thinks it implies that he is also of the "showering optional" way of life that CStinkmum and I subscribe to.

So to appease his whatevers, I would like to say that the name only makes reference to him being married to me, and that he tends to shower two to three times a day...no exaggeration...and he doesn't stink...that badly...that often...and even then only figuratively, like when he's being a pain in my flat Korean butt over things like being called,

MISTER-BIG-STINK.

James

My friend James has a new site featuring his incredible artwork. He has several pieces available on: JamesPolisky.com, with more on the way. Go check it out! He's so fucking talented it makes me weep with joy. I see his stuff, and I just want to grab my markers, jump in the Disco, drive to his house, and doodle with him all day long 'cuz he's so freaking inspirational - and so piss-your-pants-laughing, FUNNY too! He has a totally twisted mind in the BEST sense of the word. Mr.BigStink and I love us some James...