You Go Girl

So I'm sounding off today. Being the mother of a trained actor I have a few notes on Carrie Underwood's performance of the television event last week of the beloved "Sound of Music" and her performance as the lead Maria Von Trapp.

First thing's first:

• Underwood's vocal performance was amazing! Being on stage live with Broadway veterans like Audra McDonald and Christian Borle couldn't have been easy for her yet vocally, I think she held her own and did a great job with the music.
• Stephen Moyer was dull and uninteresting and there was no chemistry between the Captain and Maria.
• Carrie Underwood is not Julie Andrews. But really, is anybody? Queen Julie is an icon. Those are some seriously large shoes to fill. 

Ok, so Carrie is not a trained actor, nor does she claim to be one, but she was chosen to play the part and what was she going to say? No? I doubt anyone would say no to a role like that. I'm thinking that Carrie did her very best, being a singer and entertainer, at being an actor. At this point I would say that the acting was her biggest failure. Acting evidently does not come easy to her. Was she miscast? It's possible, but again, would you turn down the role if you got it? 

I think that Carrie did what they wanted her to do which was look and sound pretty. The production is at fault for more than just Underwood's acting chops. While there were highlights, there were far too many lowlights that I think people wanted to blame on Carrie. All I could think of is that could have been my baby girl Frick, and the pressure that preceded and followed the live performance must have been monumental.

How do you solve a problem like the haters? Haters gotta hate and hate they did. Social media blew up almost immediately with venom and mean, mostly directed at Underwood and I'm sorry but she wasn't the only problem here. Evidently the criticism got to Carrie because she responded in a classy way via social media and I give her kudos!

"Plain and simple: Mean people need Jesus," the singer tweeted on Friday, Dec. 6, a day after the live special. "They will be in my prayers tonight... 1 Peter 2:1-25," she added.

If You've Got Nothing Nice To Say Don't Say Anything At All.

So this chick pissed me off yesterday.

And here I was thinking I had I left high school years ago.

She basically told me she thought I was ugly. But in a nice way. If that's possible. I couldn't believe it.
And I'm all like,"really bitch? You didn't just say that to me, did you?" "Oh, HELL no!":

Truth is, I didn't say anything back. I didn't say anything back that was mean spirited, like I wanted to. I just kind of chuckled. I casually told her I live by my own rules and I don't care too much about other people's rules or what they think from behind my huge, dazzling smile. I took it like it was no skin off my back. But it was skin off my back. It was hairs standing up on the back of my neck.

Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all? Really, Bitch? I have to deal with her regularly too because she's kind of a  new colleague. And I hardly giggled when someone else described her as "quirky and flighty". I said nothing because quietly I already knew she was a bitch.

She's completely screwed herself now, because she's dead to me. I'll be cordial because that's what my mom taught me to do, but if she does it again I'll go all Irish on her and then I won't be pretty. She can count on that. My Irish can get very ugly.

Really bitch?

What are we 7 years old? Is she trying to establish her dominance? Believe me toots, I'm not interested in hanging with you "cool kids". I'm all set.

Now I know I'm not ugly.

And this is not a ploy to get you to tell me I'm beautiful in the comments section.This is about a lot more than the way that I look, but I'm so surprised that a grown woman would resort to that type of "bullying". Because I can't think of any other reason for her to say what she said to the new kid on the block. It's kind of shocking. And I said nothing back. Snark deserted me when I needed it most.

That's SO not like me. Let's hope my mojo's not next.

Really bitch?

What A Bit*h

I woke up this morning with a memory I'm not proud of. I decided to share it with you so that I may find some forgiveness for the sin I committed.

Back in the early 80's, I was a high school freshman, just beginning to feel my oats as a young, pretty girl. I was finally one of the "coolies" as my dad used to tease us, and with my new found status, I had several choices for a date to the Freshman Semi-formal dance. For some God forsaken reason, I decided to listen to my mother and let her fix me up with her friend from work's little brother who was the same age as I was. I remember the excitement that would build every time my mom assured me that "Carl" was handsome, sweet and fun. After all, his sister Marina was gorgeous, she had dark hair and I remember her big brown eyes and flawless make-up.

I told all of my friends about my special date, and how nice and handsome he was. Soon word got around about my mystery man, and my friends were curious and inquisitive. All I knew was that this guy was great, and I could hardly wait to meet him. I made arrangements to attend a pre-dance party at one of my friends home and then to drive over to the school dance with another couple. (our parents would be driving, of course) Soon the night came and I could hardly wait to meet my Prince Charming. It's funny, I don't remember the dress I was wearing, (I think it was white) or what anyone else was wearing, but I remember everything about Carl.

My heart was racing when I saw Marina's white car pull into the driveway. I waited in the kitchen and as I heard my mom answer the door and invite them in. My pulse quickened as a huge smile crept across my face. Then Carl walked in. It was as if the band in the soundtrack of my life had just played a rousting rendition of the blooper music, because Carl was nothing like I had imagined. He had dark hair, like his sister, that was perfectly coiffed in a Deney Terrio style and he was wearing a dark suit and tie, but all I saw was his NOSE. And it was that big.

My heart, the one that had been giddy with school girl anticipation, dropped into my stomach and stayed there for the rest of the night. I greeted Carl, exchanged pleasantries and we soon left for the party. I remember being PISSED. I felt like I had been duped, and what I did next I'm not proud of.

When we got to the party, I ditched Carl faster than The Flash and left him to the dogs. You see, all my friends were curious about my mystery man and so when we arrived, he was pretty popular from all angles. Everyone questioning him about this and that. But when the questions had been exhausted, Carl and his NOSE were left alone in a strange place, all alone, to sit and wonder what his sister had gotten him into.

I think I must have talked to Carl again at the party, because he left with me, but once we got to the dance, my super hero powers were working over time, because I ditched that guy quick. WHAT A BITCH. And looking back now, who the hell did I think I was? Poor Carl. I'm not sure if he had a good time or not, because I hardly saw him at all that night. I think I saw him dancing with someone, but I can't be sure. Anytime Carl came near me I jetted off in another direction and quick. And the hardest part for me to swallow is that I didn't care. I somehow felt justified for my actions, because I had been duped. WHAT A BITCH.  Poor Carl was a complete gentleman, in the five minutes of my time I granted him that evening and I was that cold-hearted, stuck up bitch I so hated.

Looking back, Carl was not bad looking at all. His nose was big, yes, but if I think hard enough, he looked exactly like a large nosed Ralph Macchio and I remember him being polite and sweet, even after I treated him like dirt. Was looks all that mattered to me at that time? I guess so. What a tragedy.

Carl, if you are reading this today I want you to know that I am sorry and that 30 years later I am still sorry for the way that I treated you. I hope that God gave you a reward for withstanding what was probably your worst date EVER and if I ever meet you again, I OWE you one. A BIG one.

Who knows? Maybe somewhere, Carl has his own blog and he's already told the story of his bitchy and horrible date. I'm sure all his readers assured him that she was just not worthy of him.

Smart Is As Stupid Does

Visit us and buy fine wine for the holidays.

So I have a confession to make. And I feel kinda bad about it because, you know, it's kinda like a "who the hell do I think I am" confession.

Quick version:
Frick had her senior pics take by a professional.(all the seniors do this) They're great and we have the disc to produce copies. Frack never brought home the order form for his school pics that were taken at the high school this fall, so I never even saw them, much less ordered them. This is the first year that this has ever happened, and to be honest, we all kind of let it go.

Fast forward to now. It's Christmas and Frick has these gorgeous, commerative senior pictures to frame and give as gifts to the grandparents and her father. Frack has none.

Enter: Catholic Guilt. Bad Mother. You name it, I deserve it.

Now, I can't have Frick giving everyone these great photos with Frack having none to give. Being the kind of person who kills herself with guilt over stupid shit like this, I panicked and called the school first thingy this am. I got the number to the company that took my son's shots and proceeded to ask the customer service rep if I could pay for a digital image to be emailed to me, or pay to overnight a package of his photos to me. And here's where the confession comes in..

The customer service rep wasn't smart. I feel awful for saying this, but she just wasn't. I mean, maybe this company is sort of "mom and pop" and maybe not, because she asked me what state I was from, but she tells me that, "because of security purposes they cannot email me a image of my son's photos". Now in this digital day and age, I'm not quite sure how this is possible, and I ask her to explain it a little further. Poor thing just couldn't and it really wasn't her fault. She just wasn't equipt with the correct information and she just wasn't articulate enough to navigate her way through this conversation.

Then she proceeds to tell me that their photo lab is closed for the holiday's and that I would not be able to access the photos until January 4th. A photo lab? I don't know about her, but I was just looking for the digital image of my son, which I would gladly pay for, and use the photo lab at Target.(where I can also buy the frame) I was not rude, I swear, but I nicely asked the flustered girl if I could speak to her supervisor, which put her in even more of a frenzied state. She put me on hold for a good 10 minutes and during that time, the guilt started to creep up my whole body.

Who the hell did I think I was? Again, I was never rude, I just kept thinking how stupid she was and herin lies the confession. I may have been talking down to her....

OMG, I was one of them....

While I was on hold, I kept thinking about how it wasn't her fault she wasn't trained properly and how I was the one in a pickle because I never ordered the photo's like I should have in the first place. The poor thing was probably in the bathroom crying or possibly going postal in the break room with the coffe pot as her weapon, and I was the catalyst. I then decided to take my own digital pictures of Frack today, in the backyard or something, which would probably be better that the school ones anyway, and I quietly hung up the phone before the supervisor could be located.

And I thought, Who the hell am I, thinking I'm all smarter than her? Shit, I do stupid stuff all the time and on some days I can sound like a complete moron, but I was blessed with a sharp tounge and a quick mind that usually gets me out of those situations right quick.

In the end, I am sure it will all turn out fine. I'm neeting Frack here this afternoon to snap some shots, and if they don't come out good, I assure you, I will be the only stupid one.

Mean Old Mrs. Reeves

I had this third grade teacher who was just plain old mean. I'll never forget the bitch because I think my eight year old self might have taught her a lesson.

She was the kind of teacher that yelled...a lot. We were petrified of her and if she was nice to you, you strove to keep things that way. Nobody wanted to be on Mrs. Reeves' bad side. She was teaching us our multiplication times tables and she would shout out randomly, "Candy, what is 5 times 6?" She gave you all of two seconds and if you didn't know the answer in a mili-second she would ask someone else. I swear, I still can't call those multiplication times tables to mind quickly because I was traumatized by her back then.

Well, the end of school came and it was the second to last day of school. We had field day, when all the classes competed against each other for ribbons in stuff like the egg toss and tug of war. I think it rained on our field day, because it was in the school gym. We were in a single line, passing by the library for our treat, a big m&m cookie, when I tripped over my untied shoe lace and skinned my knee.

Mrs. Reeves, being the bitch that she was, yelled at me and sent me to the nurse for a band-aid and told me in an exasperated manner that she would get my cookie and put it on my desk. Off I went to the nurse who gave me some TLC and a band-aid and I was sent on my way. When I returned to the classroom, everyone was laughing and sharing in a celebration with punch and cookies. There was no cookie on my desk. So I went up to Mrs. Reeves and quietly asked her if she had gotten me a cookie.

For whatever reason this set her off, and she hailed a barrage of screaming at me that literally caused wind burn on my face. I was mortified, embarrassed and pissed off at this injustice. And I was fed up with her. She told me to go sit at my desk and as I walked over to my chair, instead of sitting, I slammed the chair as hard as I could into the desk and I took off!!

Eight years old and I was free!!! Free of that rotten bitch Mrs. Reeves and free out the door of the school. I was going home. I wasn't going to take her abuse for one more second. I think I might have been laughing as I ran up the street towards home, but I felt good knowing that I had taken a stand against mean old Mrs. Reeves.

I kept going, triumphant in my quest to get home, until I saw our school Principal's car pull up beside me. Now if you think Mrs. Reeves was a bitch, then Ms. Hadelski was Osama Bin Laden and I knew I was screwed. Panicked, I began to run faster but she caught up to me, except she wasn't mean at all. In fact, she was nice. She told me that we needed to talk and that she would love to give me a ride back to school.

So I went with her, all the while, talking. She was calm and clear and not at all threatening. But I was ready for her and old Reeves, fists clenched. When we got back to school, I sat in her office while, get this, Hadelski got me a cookie and some punch. She never called my mom and I got into no trouble. She told me I didn't have to go back into my classroom if I didn't want to and I didn't want to.

When school was over, I went home on the school bus and awaited my punishment because by now I figured my mom had been called. But she never said a word. How could this be? My mom never brought it up and neither did I. I went reluctantly back to school, the last day and Reeves was waiting for me when I got there like a predator waiting for her prey. She took me out into the corridor and began yelling at me about how dangerous my behavior was, blah, blah blah. She asked me if I had told my mother about what happened, and I was silent. I think I was paralyzed with fear because I couldn't speak, but what that bitch did next was unforgivable.

She grabbed me by the arm, hard, and began demanding that I answer her. All I could feel was pain in my arm from where she was squeezing me, and instinctively I kicked her as hard as I could in the shin, multiple times, until she released my arm. At this time other teachers in other classrooms came out to see what the commotion was in the hallway and there we were, standing with heaving breath and red faces looking at each other.

Reeves went back into the classroom and so did I. She never came near me again, and the rest of the day went peacefully. I was kind of a celebrity with the boys and I enjoyed a pleasant last day of school. I thought for sure I would be in trouble when I got home, but my mom never said a word about it. They never told her.

Looking back, I think I know why. Reeves was an abusive teacher and she had been a problem throughout the year, and not just with me. I think I was the only one to stand up to her, me in all my eight year old bravado. I never saw Mrs. Reeves again, but I will never forget her.

I'm sure some where in the depths of her mind she will never forget me either. I took a stand against her abuse and she messed with the wrong kid.

Of that, I am certain.

Who Died And Made You Judge Judy?

Lately my mom has been spewing forth "Judge Judy-isms" like they are common law. She watches the female curmudgeon regularly in the afternoon and has even watched the show together with my children. What cracks me up is that mom thinks that what Judge Judy says is law. Evidently more than a few people agree with my mom, because the Judge Judy show is the afternoon TV ratings leader. She has even beat the Queen of Daytime, Oprah in the ratings and since it's inception, the show been nominated for 13 Daytime Emmys.

So what makes this woman tick and who the hell does she think she is treating people the way that she does?

According to Wiki, Judith Sheindlin was a former family court judge with the reputation as one of the most outspoken court judges in the country. The domino effect of fame began for Judge Judy when she was featured in an article in the Los Angeles Times in February 1993. The article led to a feature on the TV show 60 Minutes and after the success of that appearance she was approached to host her now titled show; Judge Judy. During the 14 year tenure of the Judge Judy American court show, Judith Sheindlin has become the 13th richest woman in entertainment in our country, beating out celebs like Ellen Degeneres, Giselle Bunchden, Christina Aguilera and Cameron Diaz to name a few. She even has a star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame.

I'm sure you've all seen and heard Judge Judy's tirade's on a plaintiff or defendant in her courtroom, as nobody can reduce a human being to a paltry commoner like Judge Judy. And don't you dare lie to her...the response to one she conceived to be lying, "You mess around with me young lady, I'll wipe the floor with you. We follow each other?" She's regularly throwing out some of her famous wisdom, my favorite being, "Beauty fades, dumb is forever." The message here is Judge Judy will whoop your ass iffin she thinks you a liar. Plain and simple.

As beloved for her strict no nonsense approach as she is, Judge Judy is not without critics. Surprisingly one of her most vocal critics is Judge Joseph Wapner who starred in the original American court show, The People's Court. Judge Wapner presided over cases for TV from 1981 to 1993. The two have previously waged a battle of words in the papers with he most recently saying, "She is a disgrace to the profession. She does things I don't think a judge should do. She tells people to shut up. She's rude. She's arrogant. She demeans people. If she does this on purpose, then that's even worse. Judges need to observe certain standards of conduct. She just doesn't do it and I resent that. The public is apt to gain the impression that this is how actual judges conduct themselves. It says 'judge' on the nameplate on the bench and she's wearing a robe."

Judge Judy's response to Wapner was, "I refuse to engage in similar mud slinging. I don't know where or by whom Judge Wapner was raised. But my parents taught me when you don't have something nice to say about someone, say nothing. Clearly, Judge Wapner was absent on the day that lesson was taught." Which is ironic...

Because Judy gets paid to do just that.
Maybe she should take her own advice. Or, maybe not.