Wikid Pissah

I interrupt my self imposed moratorium on pics of myself because I promised to show you in all my Brunette-ness. I even have the balls to leave it up all weekend.

So I'm reading my paper this morning and I spy an article about a local casting company that offers a class that helps Boston raised actors get rid of their Boston accent.

So I think, "That's wikid pissah!"


Not really, but you get the idea. Then I think that this is pissah for all Bostonians, not just Boston bred actors because the Boston accent makes you sound like a wikid big moron. Seriously, My Tommy could be presented before me, tied up with a gold ribbon (tied up? meowww) and if he opened his mouth and spoke with a Boston accent, I would be out the door, pronto. I mean it.


Nothing makes me cringe more than hearing one of my beautiful children speak in the vernacular of the locals. I will admit to occasionally revealing my region of origin in my speech, but being a journalism major with a concentration in TV, it gave me the discipline to articulate the words the way they were meant to be spoken. I do slip up. After all, I was born and raised here, but mostly I only slip when I'm with my family or friends who speak with the accent. It's very easy to slide into it when it's all you hear. Or heah.


I jacked this from the Boston Herald article because it's so true:

Unless you are going to be cast in a Ben Afflek or Matt Damon, both serious hunks of men, movie, or a movie about the Kennedy's, I see absolutely no reason to EVER sound like one of us. EVER. It's just downright appalling and it deduces the speaker to trailer trash upon first impression.

And that would just be a wikid shame.

Kids Think The Damnedest Things.

This has got to be the greatest stuff I have seen in a long time... I love kids.

They're Just Boobs Boys

My good friend Jim brought this story to my attention yesterday. I had already read all about it and had it on my radar when Jim inquired about my perspective on the issue.

If you aren't aware of the story here's the condensed version which reads like every other female sports reporter/locker room harassment scandal story in the past 20 years.

Mexican TV network, TV Azteca reporter Ines Sainz was covering Jets Quarterback Mark Sanchez in the Jets locker room over the weekend when some of the players began making inappropriate comments about her. So much so, that it prompted another reporter to walk over to her and apologize for the way she was being treated and still another reporter to report their behavior to the league. Prior to the locker room experience, the players had even been cat-calling out to her and threw footballs in her direction while on the practice field.

Why? Because Ines is smokin' hot and it's a fact that she uses her smokin' hotness to promote her career.



Yeah. So. What.



Does that mean she's asking for it? That she deserves it? Such questions lie at the center of this debate.

Does she act professionally when on the job? All accounts say yes. Ines has been reporting for TV Azteca for 9 years. She, herself stated that although embarrassed by the Jets actions, she didn't take it "to heart" and continued on with the job at hand. She, herself stated that she did NOT report the incident to the NFL, and that she never felt threatened. Sainz said today she did not hear exactly what was being said in the locker room. "I pretended not to notice," she told "Good Morning America." "I was focused on my job."

Sounds to me like she's been here before and sounds to me like she carried on just as she has in the past. Professionally. The problem for some is that Ines is waaaay to gorgeous and dressed waaay too "provocatively" for sports reporting. Who says? There can be no arguing that Ines is a sexy, gorgeous woman who dresses her part, promoting that sexy-ness. That's her "schtick", as they say. Her tight jeans, (which if you google image Ines Sainz, more than 15 pictures of her ass in tight jeans come up) are kind of like Harry Caray's glasses although Ines' jeans don't seem medically necessary. Minor point. The point here is that no matter what she looks like and no matter how she's dressed, she does not deserve to be treated with sexual harassment in the work place or any place else for that matter. And herein lies the "thin line which is hard to cross" in this debate. Ines claims "it's my style. all my life", and that she is not trying to provoke anything.

Here's what I think for whatever it's worth.

I don't think women reporters should be in the locker rooms. I don't think they belong there.

I know because I've been there and if the athletes act unprofessionally and with disrespect towards female reporters, it makes for a terrible working environment. Forget what being the subject of that can do to one's psyche. Sophomoric behavior will continue to take place if reporters continue to do business in the locker room, and female reporters will always be part of the press whether dressed provocatively or not.

Now, I'm not saying restrict females from the locker rooms. Not at all. I'm saying restrict all press from the locker rooms. There is no need for them to be in there anyway, and conduct business outside the locker room in a press room. This will in no way put an end to those who will continue to cat call and whistle when she is working, but it will put all reporters on even ground which means they will all be dressed and ready for the Q&A.

And don't blame Ines Sainz. "Sainz said she chooses clothing that she considers attractive. "All [women] like to be attractive," she said. "In Mexico, I'm very well known for my image and my work."

Honesty Is Such A Lonely Word.

I got this baby from Lisa at The Butterfly Farmer. Not a huge fan of meme's myself, I considered blowing this off for all of 3 seconds, before deciding that in the spirit of the New Year and fresh starts (and because I like Lisa :), I will take part in this HONEST game and fulfill what has been asked of me. I also liked the way Lisa tagged us by saying, " these are some people I wouldn't mind knowing some more honest stuff about".

So, Let's start with the rules:"The honorees are to: a) first list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep! B) pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap."

Instead of passing this on to 7 bloggers, I think all of my fellow bloggers embody the spirit of the honest scrap, so I implore any of you to feel free to take this and run with it!!

Who said this was gonna be easy? Here goes:

1. When I was a kid in third grade, I hated my teacher, Mrs. Reeves, so much that I used to fantasize about running away during class and running all the way home. I almost got my wish because on the second-to-last day of school, she grabbed me by the arm so hard that I ended up kicking her in the leg to break free from her grip, and then ran like a maniac out of the school and up the street. I didn't make it far. Our Principal, Miss Hadelski, who everyone thought was meaner than Mrs. Reeves, drove up behind me in her car and brought me back to school. At the time I was so scared! Scared out of my mind! This was the most HORROR I had ever faced in my young life and my behavior could be construed as that of a wild, out of control child. I think I was acting out of pure instinct to survive. Much to my surprise, Miss Hadelski was very nice to me and understanding and I didn't get into any trouble. What's interesting is that they NEVER called my mom. And mean old Mrs. Reeves spent the next day, the last day of school, taking me out in the hallway, trying to bully me into telling my mom. (you'd think she would have called my mom herself... hmmm) I told her I would tell my mom. I told her anything to get her off my back, but I never told my mom. I walked around for years with so much guilt and worry that my mother would find out until I was old enough to realize that I had been the victim of abuse. I think I still hate Mrs. Reeves.

2. I like liverwurst. Really, I do. And I especially like it with onions.

3. I cry at every and any sappy, sentimental, silly moment possible. It's a curse really, and I SUCK at trying to conceal it. I was watching the Brady Bunch with my kids the other day and I got all choked up over the episode when Jan decides she wants to be an only child...I am such a loser.

4. When I see a woman wearing a wedding ring, my thumb instinctively rubs over the vacant area on my ring finger where my wedding ring used to be. This always happens to me and I often wonder what it is about that specific symbol of marriage that makes me react that way. Could it be because my ex broke into my home and stole ALL of my jewelry, including my wedding ring? (oooh, did I say that out loud?? I'm sorry, the police have not confirmed that) Not that I would have ever worn it again. My first reaction after the theft was, "Good. It all held bad karma anyway." But now, three years later, I'm still pissed off.

5. I have great teeth. And for some reason they are naturally super white. I went to go have them bleached last year and they laughed at me, telling me the result would not be any different considering my teeth already matched their whitest result. But I insisted, and they gladly took my $400.00 . I walked out of the office an hour later with neon white/blue teeth. They were TOO white and I was embarrassed to smile for a few days. Chalk that up to an expensive lesson.

6. I am a pocketbook FREAK! The more expensive the better. The problem is that once I get the bag I desire, I am already on the hunt for my next victim. And once I'm done with a bag I rarely, if ever, use it again. My Guy kids me all the time about selling my cast offs on EBAY and financing a trip around the world with the proceeds. HA!

7. I am a very good golfer. I could be a great golfer if I played more. I figure I'll save that for when I slip into my golden years. Then I'll be able to kick all my fellow silver-haired doll's asses with pleasure.

8. Now that my kids are both teens, I let them swear. A little. You know, I let the occasional "shit" and "ass" slide. My fourteen year old has even dropped an f-bomb in front of me. I try not to let that one go-unless it is absolutely necessary-in context.

9. I am SUPER touchy feely. My poor Guy!! I am constantly pawing him and kissing him and my kids too! But I have recently realized, much to my delight, that I don't do it because I seek their acceptance. I do it because it's so much a part of who I am, that I need to express that physical love in order to be the best me possible. It's more about me than it is about them. (funny-when I'm not all over them-they immediately wonder if I am OK)

10. I don't pretend to have all the answers, or be "holier than thou", nor do I consider myself to be damaged goods just because I am divorced. I think I am a splendid example of a strong, surviving woman who is lucky enough to have risen from the ashes, better from the experience to tell the story. And tell the story I will.