Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Birthin' Babies with Gwen Stefani

Last night, I rolled down to Raleigh to go to the Gwen Stefani concert with my EXTREMELY pregnant (we're talking due-this-very-minute-having-contractions-all-the-damn-time) best friend, Ray. Ray and I have been planning for a few years to do something exciting this year in honor of my 30th birthday, and seeing as how she's about ready to drop a kid and can't venture far from Chapel Hill, Gwen Stefani in Raleigh it was.

We met up at Ray's house around 6, had Carrburrito (mmmhhhh....Carrburrito) and Corona for me, water for her, then headed out for the concert. What we encountered was astounding, vastly entertaining, and more than a little disgusting. Traffic, of course, was hideous. Being stuck in traffic, however, was fantastic. I've never seen so many drunk, stupid, trampy chicks in my life. And keep in mind, I'm from TN, so drunk and trampy, at least, are per the norm. Anyway, it was as if God had allowed the blond, tube-topped bimbos of the world to rain down upon Raleigh in honor of Ms. Stefani. They were out running barefoot from car to car (on interstate, mind you), peeing behind extremely small bushes on the side of the road where they were not even remotely hidden, vomiting on themselves and each other while waving around their middle fingers and screaming "bitch" at anyone who got near them. It was AWESOME. (No, seriously, I thought it was pretty damn funny.) And this was even before we got parked and before Akon had finished performing. Inside was EVEN BETTER. Gwen wannabes everywhere, tottering around on very high heels, coats of red lipstick on, sporting really bad bleach jobs. Ray, being pregnant and (rightfully) bitchy herself, almost threw down a time or two with some of the Gwen clones who got in our way. My money would have been on Ray. I know the superhuman strength and level of ferocity that pregnancy lends to a woman.

As the concert progressed, Gwen performed, and the crowd grew drunker, I mentally compiled a list of IMPORTANT THINGS I LEARNED AT THE GWEN STEFANI CONCERT. I am now going to share that list with you, as it's important to learn something new every day and this might be your chance.

1. Sparkly glitter belts worn on low-rider jeans just make your ass look bigger, especially when you are extremely drunk and calling attention to said ass by swinging it around a lot.

2. No matter how you dress or what you do, you ARE NOT going to look as good as Gwen in your red sequin shorts and midriff top, so please don't even try.

3. Burning a pregnant woman with your cigarette, even if by accident, is a very bad idea.

4. If the 14-year-old next to you in line pukes on the bag checker, he stops checking bags and lets you in even if you are carrying a rifle in hand with a purse full of grenades (puke takes presidence over artillary).

5. Butch lesbians do still use the women's restroom, no matter how long the lines are or how easily one could convince others that she is, in fact, a man.

The concert was great, Gwen was gorgeous, the music was, well, Gwen Stefani, and I'm SOOOO grateful to Ray for the night out. It also made me remember that I'm truly glad to be happily married, blessed with beautiful healthy children, and completely satisfied to only experience grand evenings such as this about once a decade. Wonder what we'll do when I turn 40.......

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Excuse me, but I think your kid just bit me

I was viciously attacked by a rabid 18-month old boy baby today. He was wearing a mint green onesie, had not a hair on his little bald noggin, and was deceptively harmless looking. He was not.

The moral of this story? Don't judge a book by its cover? Nope. Get your tetanus shot before you sit in the waiting room of the ENT? Nope. The moral is: Safety is relatively non-existant.

Take the Virginia Tech massacre, for instance. Living in Richmond, we have had fairly in-depth coverage of the tragedy. It's heartbreaking, it's infuriating, it's mind-blowing. Being a parent makes it even more nightmarishly real. More and more I take notice of situations where people are in a "safe" environment, only to have their "safe" place turn out to be one of the least safe of all. It happened with Taylor Behl here at VCU. Now it has happened at VT. How do we know that our very own safe spot isn't the next most dangerous place on earth?

My kids drive me crazy. I mean, absolutely freakin' insane. Most days, I totter on the edge of reality and mindless oblivion, just counting the seconds until Blaker gets home and provides some back-up. However, despite their....um, shall we say, precociousness, I cannot even imagine what my life would be like without them. And I'm becoming more and more afraid each day that I can't protect them, that our world is unsafe and I have too little control over it to ensure that they will be okay. I'm only armed with Neosporin and Barbie band-aids (and boy, does Sutt get a kick out of wearing his sister's pink Barbie band-aids), not Kevlar vests and magic wands. Although, now that I think about it, my Dad has a few Kevlar vests, so I might could borrow a couple.

Anybody out there got a magic want you want to loan me?