Archive for March, 2006
So I was in the bathroom getting the bath ready for my kid when I heard from the television in the bedroom that my husband always leaves on for some reason, a really beautiful song. There was something about it, it just pulled me in. I immediately went into the bedroom to see what was going on and I was greeted with the credit bed from a movie that had just ended. When I pressed the info button I found it was a movie called “Wedding Date” one that came and went with Debra Messing (who doesn’t annoy me as much as she seems to annoy other people and maybe that’s because she stayed curvy after her baby) about some stupid plotline where a woman takes an escort to a wedding so it looks like she has a date. Blah blah blah I’d obviously never seen it. I refuse to see movies that stupid. But I had to wait through the credits to see what the fucking song was. I’m very obsessive that way.
I knew I’d have to hear this song again right away and I was ready to download it if I could just get the name and artist. So I sit through like 17 hours of credits. Do they really have to list the person who scanned the graphics for the title? And there really needs to be a cut off for “special thanks.” Really, I can’t spend a full 5 minutes reading about every single person who I don’t know that made a difference to your movie making experience. Send them a fucking gift basket and let’s move on. ANYWAY, they finally get to the music credits which I don’t think should be last. Note to Studios — music is important – more important that 2nd assistant grip gaffer boy or whatever.
Finally we get to the credit I’m waiting for and the song is by Michael Buble. I get the creeps just writing that name. I’m horrified. I see his CD in Starbucks and other places that make me not even want to look at it. I mean, come on, the name alone is annoying. BUBLE with the french thingy over the last E. Stop it! I always assumed he was some wussy balladeer like Josh Groban only older. Not interested in that shit. But shoot me cause this song speaks to me in a Dan Fogelberg, Emerson, Lake and Palmer, nerdy folky kind of way. I can’t help but be a total nerd.
It’s called “Home” and it immediately made me start thinking about what home is to me. I’ve been having some issues with my parents. Issues that having gone away since I was a little girl. I have made a new family – one that I would lay myself in front of a Chevy Expedition for. And I have a brother and sister in law who rock like Dokken but still…why can’t I stop longing for the parental relationship that will never be? I know this isn’t the right forum to air these issues but we all have something like it right? I just feel lonely when I think about how I wish things could/could’ve/should’ve been.
So in conclusion, if you have any of the issues I have, and you have a soft spot for some seriously cheesy music, you may cry. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just sappier than I let on.
Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 26, 2006 3:45 am
The other day I yelled at my daughter for the first time. It wasn’t really a yell so much as an extremely harsh and quite shrill NO! But she cried cause I’d scared her. And I felt horrible. But, let me just say this, I’m the one who has a bruise to show for it. The bruise is on my arm where she bit me so hard I almost cried. This was after she bit my leg. That one didn’t hurt so much and I met it with a medium “NO” and pushed her away a little. The one on my arm came fast and furious immediately following and I think had malice behind it. I know she’s only 16 months old but still, it was an unfriendly gesture. In her defense, I do have very tasty arms. Or so I’ve been told.
I’m going to miss her on my trip.
Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 25, 2006 9:46 pm
So, it’s happening. My book is on shelves. Well, a lot of shelves. It’s official pub. date is not until next Tuesday but friends have seen it in stores so that makes me “officially” very excited. By the way, the book can be ordered on Amazon at any time and reviews (that are nice) are encouraged! I think the title should be changed to Sippy Cups are not “necessarily” for Chardonnay, cause in a pinch I’ll drink out of anything.
I’ll be on the Today Show on the 30th. That’s next Thursday morning. Please watch if you’re up that early and you know you are if you have a child. The morning after that (Friday) I’ll be on Fox and Friends which I’ve never even heard of but…if you can find it, watch it. Please.
So, I’m going to NY without my baby. It’s going to be my first time away from her and I’m not happy about it? We’ve been spending an awful lot of time together because my husband’s been gone all week and now I’m more attached than ever. Hopefully, he’ll remember to get her dressed at some point and introduce her to fresh air at least once while I’m gone. I think he’ll be fine cause he’s a good daddy. I don’t think his abusive, bi-polar alcoholic, sociopathic behavior will come out in the few days i’m away. I’m almost positive of that. I mean, he’s changed!
All right fuckers, wish me well.
Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 22, 2006 8:30 pm
Hi fellow bloggers! What the fuck is going on? I haven’t blogged in awhile. It’s a Saturday night and I’m home alone because my husband is on a business trip. He’s been gone since Tuesday early morning. He won’t be back until next Wednesday. That’s a lot of one on one time with my child. And my demons. Can I just say to the other mothers who read this blog, sometimes I love my baby girl with a ferocity that scares me. I want to inhale her, kiss her to death, protect her with such a primal instinct I don’t even know where it comes from. BUT at the same time, starting at about 4:00 pm. the countdown begins for bedtime. Sometimes and hour with her is like stairmaster time. It just hangs there in space taunting me with the microwave clock, “ha ha, you thought an hour had passed by but it’s only been 15 minutes! HA.”
Okay, on to more important issues. Yesterday I was in the gym and I was confronted with so much nudity that I’m still feeling a little scarred. Like, I get it. You’re in a women’s locker room so you think to yourself “hey, we’re all girls here. Let’s just be naked and go about all of our normal activities.” But here’s the thing. I DON’T KNOW YOU. I don’t want to see your pubic hair just wandering around fishing something out of your locker. Cause that’s all you become to me is a patch of pubic hair. I know this is even a hack subject at this point and a lot of us feel this way. But let’s delve a bit deeper shall we? Is this some sort of defiance? Does the 60 year old woman who stands on the scale for 15 minutes just trying to get her exact weight in ounces want me to look away or want me to check her out in all her glory? I don’t know the answer but I don’t like it. Honestly, I’m not uncomfortable with my body. I don’t mind being naked in front of my friends if I’m say, trying on a bra or changing into a swim suit. You know, normal reasons for getting naked but just parading around? No.
Another gym thing is people with their cell phones. Like you can’t go 30 minutes on the precor machine without rolling calls? Get your shit together. Maybe you need a personal assistant. I don’t know but stop taking phone calls. It bothers me. And one more thing. Men who crazily grunt as they lift weights. “Hey, note to you: the weights are too heavy. Go a little lighter and you won’t have to sound like you’re taking a dump.”
I guess in retrospect, this wasn’t self reflection as much as harsh judgement about other people. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.
Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 19, 2006 4:20 am
Okay, so a long time ago. and I do mean a long time ago maybe 15 years ago, my girlfriend Becky and I were fellow comics working in Las Vegas. We were screwing around during the day between shows and bouts of drinking and we came upon some playing cards in a gift shop. These weren’t your run of the mill playing cards – cards that poker afficionados would pick up to take home as a souvenier. MM…ummm..these were all porny. Like major porny. Like men with hard-ons as big as Aqua Net bottles with mustaches that would put Matlock to shame. We thought these cards were HILARIOUS. In fact we laughed for about five minutes straight. The kind of laughing that happens when you’re stoned, tired or just struck in the moment by the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you. We needed to own these playing cards immediately. So see bought a deck each. I’m telling you these cards are gross. I’m going to link to one so the braver of you can click on and see my point. But here’s the funny part to me.
After knowing my husband to be for awhile, I found the playing cards which I had missplaced for a couple of years. I was ectatic. The fun I would have put a smile on my face that didn’t wear off for a week. The first thing I did was tape one of the disgusting masturbating men on my husband’s unsuspecting computer while it was innocently sitting on his desk. Then I closed it up and waited for him to take it to work the next day to open it up and find a SURPRISE! I guess he was shocked a little but he of the dry sense of humor never let on. He just prepped his own suprise by leaving on in my makeup bag that I found when I went home. This started a back and forth with different disgustingly posed porny men showing their stuff at (hopefully) inappropriate times to me and my now husband.
So this died down for a couple of years but the other day I was at the gym and I realized my husband had planted one of the cards in my gym bag. I laughed my ass off but then started having the most perverted thoughts. Like, what if I just planted it in the locker so some unsuspecting person maybe 18 maybe 80 would come across it and be horrified/intrigued/scared…I don’t know but I couldn’t contain my giggles because I think I may be 14 years old. It’s like one of those movies like Freaky Friday where the mom trades places with the daughter and thinks that something so juvenile is really fucking funny. Anyway…
So I left it in the locker and I’m still laughing. What is wrong with me?
Okay, don’t look if you don’t want to see..
Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 11, 2006 4:43 am