seattle. at a glance.
While in Seattle…
I didn’t cheat on my detox. Except once when I had a slight breakdown over a pile of fingerling potatoes. Afterwards, I was utterly disappointed in myself…until Maya pointed out that it’s not like I ate a pile of cookies.
Sometimes I’m surprised at how smart she is.
I didn’t get into a single altercation with Maya, despite being with her 120 hours straight. I didn’t even lose my cool when she continued to try to touch the artwork at the Seattle Art Museum after I warned her 100 times to keep her hands to herself.
I know, I’m shocked too.
I didn’t make fun of Ali, even when he spent every spare moment away from his laptop with the Microsoft Surface in our hotel.
Like a moth to a flame I tell you…
We came across a wall. Full of gum. I almost threw up. Apparently it’s quite the tourist attraction.
I am still confused and disgusted by this.
Two guys followed me into the hotel elevator, chatted me up, and tried to follow me to my hotel room. Obviously they had no idea I am from L.A. and am automatically 100 times smarter than them.
I stayed in full view of the hallway cameras until they disappeared down a fire escape and then reported them to security.
I hate to say it but I guess living in Los Angeles has its perks after all.
***Any avid readers out there? I just reviewed Secret Daughter on my sister site thefancybookshelf.wordpress.com.***
the emerald city
Allow me to share another example of why I hate Los Angeles:
I was walking along, just minding my own business, when I encountered the rudest person on earth: a twenty-something mom who was talking on her cell phone, pushing a $1,000 stroller, walking her three yappy little dogs, and hogging the entire sidewalk.
Me: “Can you move your dogs over? I’m not a huge fan of dogs.”
Total Bi@#$:“Well that’s too bad, isn’t it?”
Me: “Actually, your dogs should be on a leash.”
Total Bi@#$: “YOU should be on leash.”
Me: “My God…you are a total Bi@#$.”
Total Bi@#$: “YOU are a total Bi@#$!”
Notes on this absurd situation:
1. I am sick and tired of spoiled Beverly Hills brats. Sick. Of. Them.
2. I regret that I called someone a bitch…because that’s just tacky. And I hate feeling tacky.
3. I actually love dogs. I just don’t like dogs that jump all over my brand new and very clean jeans. I mean seriously? We all know I barely tolerate my kid touching my jeans, nevermind strange dogs with dirty paws.
The view from the Space Needle. Gorgeous.
I am in Seattle right now recovering from my encounter with Total Bi@#$. I’m hoping that this beautiful city can help me forget her and my tacky faux pas.
So far…so good.
conundrum
Here’s the thing…I think the whole idea of “graduating” from kindergarten is ridiculous. I mean seriously? Maya barely learned how to hold a pencil properly! Must she really be acknowledged for that?
It’s nonsense like this that gives kids a need for non-stop acknowledgement – one of the many things that annoys the living daylights out of me.
And yet…
I find myself in quite a state because nobody bothered to tell me there was going to be a graduation. I swear that I will always have this haunting vision of Maya with tears running down her face because I was the only mom who wasn’t present as she moved her fake tassel across her paper hat.
Replay. At home.
Here’s what I don’t get…Maya’s school has no problem remembering to:
- Send me continuous donation requests.
- “Gently” request that I sign up for the snack calendar.
- Ask me to bring a dish for the teacher’s luncheon/Willy Wonka wrap party/Father’s Day breakfast.
- Remind me repeatedly that I am a horrible person for taking her out of school for a vacation to Paris.
But letting me know about a graduation ceremony? Well I guess that’s just too much to ask.
My conundrum: Am I more upset that I missed the graduation or that there was a ceremony in the first place? I’m not sure. But on the bright side I have the entire summer to ponder this!
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 