Reality Town, Yo

I signed up to volunteer for Reality Town at the beginning of the school year when I had good intentions. I didn't know what it was but I like Lowly Worm. I like pig police officers. I like cats in lederhosen. How bad could it be?

It wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was quite interesting. Reality Town is a program for Jr. High school students where kids get fake check books to buy cars and houses and pay bills. I was stationed at the Recruiters booth for kids who wanted to join the military. Make no mistake: it's called "Reality Town" but it's not actually real. I'm not a real recruiter. Kid weren't really singing up for the reserves. That would be a good trick.

So we ask them why they want to join and give them a quick aptitude test and then we pay them $173/month. If they have any schooling past high school they get the GI bill on top of their monthly pay. Sweet deal, no? I thought their careers and education were just randomly assigned. So I was kind of surprised that all the kids who were sort of dumb on the aptitude test had crappy jobs with no education. It sort of made me feel bad. And of course it was the kids who needed money the most who wanted to join the military. It was so awkward. Then I found out the jobs and education were given to students based on their GPA and I felt even worse, but it also made sense. It was kind of awful. But also fun--it's just Jr. High. Those kids still have time to pull up their grades. I'm an optimist!

There was this one little cliche who made me sad though. She couldn't pass the test and had no formal education (on her fake Reality Town card). As she walked away after not joining the armed forces she gazed at the volunteer dad who was working at the booth with me and cooed, "I like your eyes." Later she came back because she was totally broke and had figured out how to cheat on the test (all the answers were A). She faked her way through the test with a group of friends who looked me straight in the eye and said, "Let's see. I think the answer is. . . A?" Oh, honey. I'm scared for you. But welcome to the army reserves! Yikes. If she asks my son to a girl's choice dance in the future I will plan a family vacation.

On the lighter side of Reality Town there was  a delightful little PhD candidate who  needed extra money to pay for the horse she had purchased. She loves horses! Maybe we can find her a nice position in the cavalry. And I had to chuckle as at least half of the kids who listened to my spiel and passed the aptitude test took out their checkbooks to pay me after I had signed them up for military service. "How much is it?" Paying the army to let you join? Priceless.

As for my own son, he ended up with a bachelor's degree and a job as an air traffic controller. He has a stay at home wife and a 7 year old son. He opted for a cell phone but no cable and chose the moderate grocery plan which allows for generic cereal but no frozen waffles (see if I ever buy those again). He bought a condo (a great little starter home) and a Honda Civic Hybrid (I'm tearing up a little with pride--a HYBRID!) Sure he's got student loans to pay off but he saves on child care with his stay-at-home wife and because I volunteered he started with an extra $200 in his bank account--and that is basically what you will learn about parenting if you read Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Did anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?

ABC's The Bachelor: It's a Family Show

Last night's hometown visits were very sweet, upbeat, and family-oriented. In fact, I have completely forgotten about the pornographic romp that was last week's The Bachelor. 

Speaking of, I love how Chris Harrison refers to last week's episode as "a rough patch for Brad" instead of "a major step backwards for the women's movement" or  the "reprehensible state of affairs in reality entertainment" or "a sad comment on the human condition" or simply, "sickening, shameful, and painful to watch." Semantics!

Friends, Brad is a simple guy. You know, "not complex." To Brad, olive oil is stinky. Embalming fluid is, likewise, a turnoff. And remember, Brad hates drama. OBVIOUSLY. Why else would you even go on ABC's The Bachelor unless you hate drama. So being with all-American women in all-American towns, except Maine which is partly French (Spanish if you're the bachelor), was a breath of fresh air for Brad. The families were warm and welcoming. And I mean, who wouldn't be? (Oh yes--every real family I've ever met.) They cheerfully gave Brad permission to string along their desperate daughters until he decides who to "marry." I grew up with a bit of an absent father and watching last night's The Bachelor made me realize what I've been missing all this time--someone to sell me out once the cameras are rolling to any handsome stranger that walks through the door.

For me the contest is really coming down to Boca vs. Rikki. I'm afraid Rikki will lose because she put up walls early in her relationship with Brad whereas Boca put himself out there. Brad likes it when people put themselves out there and it bothers him so much when people put up walls.  We'll see which one ends up handily placed in a boat and paddled to shore.

Personally, I like Emily. But the more I get to know Brad--and even though I've never made out with him I do feel like I know him quite well--the clearer it is that he will choose the woman with no kids, no career, and no prospects. And that, dear reader, is Chantal. He is simple. She is easy. There's a perfect symmetry to it. She has the lowest barrier to entry, as they say. And who can blame him. Parenting, pursuing a career, having a personality and will of your own--it's all very dramatic.

My hope for the finale of ABC's The Bachelor is that in the end it is revealed that Brad is--and has been all along--his twin brother Chad. All the comments about "being a new man" make sense now! I really hope this happens. It would be the perfect ending.

Home Sweet Home

We went to St. George on Friday. It was fun. Today we are home and I am happy. I like my home. I like being home. I'd rather be home than anywhere. Does that make me dull? Perhaps. At least I'm content puttering around. I have worked hard to create a comfy bed to lie upon whilst reading. I like every-day living. Maybe it doesn't sound like much but it's actually quite important. If you don't like every-day living you could become suicidal. I never will.

But people seem to enjoy trips every now and then and we take them occasionally too. You see, it's the same for me wherever we go: "watching" Ellen eat, "watching" Ellen go to the bathroom, remaining neutral in DS charger fights. I can do it here or in San Diego or in St. George or anywhere. This weekend we were in St. George. Christian and I love road trips because we get to talk so that was a plus. We ate most lunches and dinners out so that was also a plus. We stayed in a friend's condo for free so that was a huge plus. It was cold and rainy, which was a negative. But there was an indoor swimming pool so that was a plus for the kids and a neutral for me--I don't like wearing a swimming suit but I have no bodily pride anymore and the hot tub was somewhat enjoyable. We played tennis when the rain let up which I enjoyed considerably. I was better than all my kids until they had the bright idea that, "Hey, it's just like the Wii" and started getting their serves over the net. Curse you, WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!

We went to Brigham Young's winter home which I really enjoyed so that was a plus until Ellen's hair became entangled in the buttons on the tour guide's jacket and Maggie started asking the hard questions about polygamy which I had hoped to gloss over (like you do). But when all was said and done and untangled--Plus, overall.

Before we left on our trip I did my first Welcome Baby visit. Plus! It's such a great program. If you are having a baby you should sign up for it--maybe I'll visit you. I always like to imagine that I have a really devoted but unbalanced blog stalker who might go to the trouble of faking a pregnancy just so I would come and visit them as a Welcome Baby volunteer. It sure would be interesting.

I hope you had a nice weekend. Back to the old grindstone tomorrow. AmIrightoramIright?

The Bachelor Reaches a New Low, or "High" If You're Satan

[Spoilers]

Maybe topless photo shoots aren't a new low for ABC's The Bachelor. Maybe it's actually rather typical. I don't know because I've never watched it before. I have to say I was pretty scandalized by last night's episode, but then--I'm not a purveyor of pornography.

I mean, you kind of expect the smarmy, accented Sports Illustrated photographer to suggest going topless. What surprised (and really, "horrified" is a better word here) me was the encouragement of the matronly shoot director. Wow. You're very good at your job, ma'am. And all you had to do was sell out your whole gender. Congratulations?

The first to go topless was the lady who was self-conscious about having a small chest. So typical and so sad. And this isn't some outcast teenager from a broken home trying to get boys to like her--Ashley is a dentist. That's what, 8 years of school? Who would have thought that a woman who knows what amalgams are made of would be such a cliche? A white lab coat doesn't offer the protection it once did. Alas.

Next up for going topless? Chantal--the girl who feels fat. To Michelle (who, inexplicably keeps her top on) I say, "Way to go!" (I'll overlook the exploitative beach making out because. . . I don't even know anymore.) Please note that posing topless didn't make anyone feel better. The two who did were the most insecure and weepy they've been all season.  And so it goes with the objectification of women. At its best it makes even Brad feel awkward and at its worst everyone involved blackens their soul. Not cool, ABC's The Bachelor--NOT COOL.

Next week are the home visits. That's right! If you make it you get to take Brad home to meet your mom--After shaming her this week in your topless photo shoot. Here is where the irony is less delicious and much more sickening.  "To family," says Brad in his toast--Woopsie. My shirt fell off. Hi mom! Meet Brad.

Congratulations to Emily for being the only woman Brad has any respect for. He should choose her. But she has a kid. So he won't.

Congratulations to Shawntelle for being the only girl with any real personality. Of course, maybe I'm biased because I wanted to be a funeral director before I went to graduate school and became a teacher. Now I'm neither and couldn't be happier. We'll see what Brad goes for. I think the personality is kind of like having a kid though, where Brad is concerned.

Congratulations to Michelle for being the only girl not to cry on the way out. Congratulations to Michelle also for the best line of the night: "I don't see Brad and Britt even friending each other on Facebook." You had me at crazy tan freakazoidal harpy. Well-played.

Congratulations to Chantal for providing us with a cautionary tale for insecure young women thinking about getting involved in the adult entertainment industry to boost their self esteem and feel empowered--It won't work. It will make you feel embarrassed. And it doesn't guarantee a rose. You know what else? Your mom is watching. And she's sad. Profoundly.

And congratulations to Britt for putting herself out there.

As for me, I'm not going to put myself out there. I'm going keep myself in here.

Wherein I Use Valentine's Day to Brag About My Kids And, Indirectly, Myself

Oh yes--we are all bitter about Valentine's Day because greeting card companies invented it and because the Brent Hamilton's of this world never really came through for us in 4th grade in spite of our devotion [obsession] which may have [did] manifest itself in insane but very thorough snooping through his entire house while babysitting his little brothers--but why not claim it as our own and redefine the holiday as an opportunity to brag? I wouldn't be the first blogger to do it and I won't be the last. Instead of pervy allusions to how sexy my love life is, I'm going to talk about my kids and how much they love me. Win/Win.

Maggie made everyone a special valentine. She always does because she is thoughtful and nice. It must be disappointing for her to live with us clowns. My valentine from Maggie says, "The important thing about Mom is that she is caring. Reading is relaxing to her. Writing brings her great joy. Friends and family are inspiring. Organizing is one of her many talents. Making people laugh makes her feel happy and generous. Making dinner brings smiles to her family's faces. But the important thing about Mom is that she is caring."

Why am I sharing this? The reason is twofold. First, the valentine casts me in an awesome light and second, I raised her which also casts me in an awesome light. See how I did that there? I am redefining Valentine's Day. And this is how I'm redefining it.

That's my son Ben in his Snuggie. What does this picture mean? I don't know. Who cares. Happy Valentine's Day. [Carly and Erin, that is Grandma and Grandpa's dinner table in the background which is red now. Do you care that I painted it red?]

Nothing gives me greater joy than to watch my kids frolicking appropriately. The poor things think it is Spring.

I told them that they will know it's really Spring when it snows on Easter.

Oh, Sam. If I were 25 years younger and not your mom I'd probably be insanely but thoroughly snooping through your house right now. It's more creepy the more you think about it--but it's true none the less.  What! Cute young moms talk about eating their newborn babies' cheeks and being a "little in love" with their toddlers all the time. This is what it looks like when you're almost 40, ladies. (I turn 40 in 2 years and frankly it's going to be a huge relief to let some of this cool go. I can't wait.) See what I did there? Valentine's Day=talking about my impending birthday. Bam!

Here's my present to Ben. Sam got the same thing. Christian gives presents to the girls in the family and I give to the boys. Isn't that a charming tradition! Guess where I got the idea? Design Mom. Guess where I got the idea for the Bucky Balls? Chup. That's right. I read blogs just like you. And I buy and do whatever they tell me to. Send me a dollar. (Of course, I know all the bloggers personally and we go to Wendys pretty often. That's right--a national fast food chain!) Dear Gabby and Courtney--They call it the "Kacy bump" and you're welcome.

Who, me?

Honk, shooo.

What I'm saying here with these photos is that my kids are cute. Not only that,  we go outside and play so I'm a good mom and don't just blog in the house all day. A picture is worth a thousand words, is it not? 

Happy Valentine's Day. I love me.

I Support the Funny

Please check out my Give Away Blog (kind of like a "throw away" blog but the opposite--for you!) where I support the funny and you get to win something. Curious?

And you thought I would leave you Valentine-less like all those other thoughtless jerks in your life. Not on my watch!

What a Brad Womack Wants

Yes--even though I googled it and know who Brad chooses in the end--we are still watching the Bachelor. I think Christian puts it on just to spite me, which is fine. (Could be worse.) Today I will tell you how to win Brad's heart, assuming that you want to win it. Hahahahahah! Just kidding. That's not an assumption--it's a fact!

It goes without saying that you must be physically attractive with a good and tan body. Being a little cheap-looking (Chantal) is OK if you have big bosoms. You can't be self-conscious about swimming (well, sitting and sprawling in water--there's not much actual "swimming") in a bikini or making out with someone you don't know.  In addition, you have to be a good sport and up for adventures such as repelling and singing and dancing while suspended from a wire. If you don't make a good showing, you have put up walls (also known as "self respect"). If you have walls or if you threaten to put walls up, it makes Brad mad. You know when he gets mad because his steely jaw clenches and also he sends you home, but he might still kiss you so you can't go by that. And your horse can never be bigger than his. I guess he's insecure about that.

The other thing to remember when talking to Brad (but don't talk too much!) is that he hates drama. And being called on stuff or being challenged or having anyone point out obvious things like how he gets to date and kiss whomever he wants while the women hover together desperately in their tank tops and sleep in bunk beds. If you get worried or start to have doubts please, PLEASE remember to trust Brad. You have to trust that he is doing what is best for himself--that's his moral imperative. If he does get mad, just try to "relax" him.

You can't talk about how you feel unless you feel happy and in love with Brad but do not try small talk. Brad HATES small talk about embalming and different cities and the weather. He's in for deeper fare such as your willingness to be vulnerable for him. Don't be scared of your feelings for him or of bugs. Also, you need to be willing to expose your impressionable 5 year old to him or--there you go again with the walls! Don't try to ply him with an envelope of thoughtful messages--it won't work. Instead, try a short dress. Or, a little crazy.

Speaking of Michelle, I'm starting to think she's kind of funny. The trick for Michelle will be to see if she can somehow channel her power of breaking up marriages to actually create one. With Brad! Brad is there for you, ladies. Never forget that. (Where "there for you" means "willing to rub your bare legs when you cry.")

Next week on the Bachelor: Drama, being vulnerable, hot tubs, being there for the women, meaningful looks instead of meaningful conversation, tears, yoga pants, and tank tops. Tune in.

Viva la Bachelor.

Discrepancies in Super Why and Mickey Mouse Playhouse: Come Inside It's Fun Inside

I assume you are familiar with the PBS children's show, Super Why? If you're like me you watch it at least once a day and sometimes ten times a day. I like Super Why. It's a good show and not hideously unwatchable (like Sid the Science Kid). I even enjoy Super Why. It's the new Blues Clues. But there are some discrepancies in the plot. There are three main people (Princess Pea, Whyatt, and Red) and also one main pig (Pig). I guess they are all characters from  a fairy tale but what is Whyatt from? Is the show itself the "fairy tale" which he stars in? Is the show, at it's heart, some kind of meta-criticism of the post-modern narrative?

And then there's the question of Whyatt's brother, Jack. Some of my favorite episodes include Jack, the angsty older brother. He has the most beautiful singing voice you ever heard, which is showcased in the episode where he sings a giant to sleep. You see, Whyatt tells us that Jack is the Jack of Jack and the Beanstalk.  How can this be? If that is "his story" did he really sell the family cow for magic beans or is "his story" more like a play he was once in? Normally when they "jump into a story" the story characters are differentiated from the Super Why characters by being in 2-D. Jack isn't 2-D. I wonder a lot about Jack. I'd like to know more about him.

The other thing I wonder about is this: What is Goofy? He's a dog, correct? Why does he walk and talk while Pluto remains in a subservient pet dog position? It would be like if Pig on Super Why had a pet pig that could only oink. I hate Goofy and all the Disney cartoons. They are so flat. One note. Lacking irony. But, back to my question: Mickey has Minnie. They are both mice. Donald pairs off with Daisy and they are both ducks. (How would you like to hang out with Donald Duck? PLEASE! Give me Daffy any day of the week.) So where does Goofy (a dog, presumably) get off having a pet dog and dating a cow? Claribel is a cow! The Disney universe needs to be more consistent with inter-species dating rules.

And then of course there is "Toodles." Toodles is nothing but the Disney logo. They have anthropomorphized the Disney logo! They didn't make him a tool box or even a friendly and helpful frog. Or a pet hamster that hands tools to a walking talking master hamster who dates a cow. Nope. Toodles is a logo. This entrages me. Sometimes I don't pay attention while my kids watch their shows but I heard them saying "Hey Toodles!" along with the TV so I finally looked up to see what this Toodles character was. "THAT"S Toodles? Toodles is nothing? Can't you see that Toodles is nothing?" My kids don't even care. They accept and love Toodles. (Better put critical thinking skills on the list for our summer enrichment lessons.) Here's Mickey talking to "Toodles." Inventive, no? Like, literally: That is Toodles.

Books I Read in January: 2011 Edition

I don't know why I read so much this month. I felt like there wasn't anything good on TV. I'm just not excited about any of the new shows. Sure, I've got my old standbys but nothing new has really grabbed me. This saddens me because I really love good TV. Feel free to make suggestions of what I should watch--let's see if we can shorten this book list next month! And if you want to "commiserate" with me about the evils and pointlessness of watching television you can, but that's not exactly my point.

First I read Sway by Ori Brafman and Rom Brafman. Christian gave this to me for Christmas.

It's really good and a quick read--I think most people would like it. It's about how people make decisions and act irrationally. It also tells about how in the French "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" the "Ask the Audience" help is not very useful because french audiences will always enter in the wrong answer because they don't think the contestants deserve to get it right if they need help. There's just no sussing out the French.

Then I read Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers. This is a great book. I recommend it. It will change how you think about parenting, poor people, and expertise. I really like it.

I love how this book demystifies talent. I mean, there are people with more or less "talent" in certain areas but he talks about how experts need to spend 10,000 hours to become experts. It's not some fleeting "you're born with it" kind of thing. The Beatles, Steve Jobs, Mozart--they all spent 10,000 hours getting good at their thing. They had lucky breaks and coincidences which let them spend 10,000 hours at a young age. It's really interesting. It also talks about the differences between lower-income families and rich families with kids who do better in school. The kids aren't smarter, but their parents talk to them more and have more books around. It really changed the way I think about a lot of things. Of course it's too late for me to get 10,000 hours in anything, but it was fun to tell my kids they could be experts in anything they wanted to spend 10,000 hours on.

The Glass Castle by Jeannete Walls. Holy freakazoid.

I am very glad I read this memoir, but it is disturbing and heartbreaking. It's the story of a family with parents who are totally crazy. Maybe not crazy? They just do really weird things and live in really awful circumstances. It's pretty unbelievable. They never have food and the mom who lays in bed all day sneaks under her blanket to eat a giant-sized Hershey bar. It makes the kids really mad. Read this book if you want to feel like an amazing mother. It's quite moving--and the human spirit endures! (Good to know when I'm hiding from my kids in the pantry eating secret candy.)

Then I read Truce. You should read this.

This is non-fiction for kids and it is available in the Scholastic Reader. Get it. I love this story and I had never heard anything about it until this year during our ward Christmas program when they mentioned that the Germans and the English had a truce on Christmas day during World Ward I and they sang hymns back and forth to each other. You guys know that I'm not a big cryer but when I read about the soldiers in their trenches (ugh--trench warfare? Is there anything LESS inspired?) lighting candles and putting out decorated trees and finally posting a sign saying "We no shoot. You no shoot," tears streamed. (That's a first for this blog--go ahead. Check.) I love Christmas, OK? And I hate war. World War I was particularly loathsome in it's pointlessness. Some of the soldiers were unwilling to keep the truce--they thought it was a trick and refused to fraternize with the enemy. One of those soldiers was Adolf Hitler. OF COURSE. But those who did fraternize shared songs and presents, even gave each other haircuts and took pictures. In some places this truce lasted for weeks and even months. When commanding officers came around (they didn't like the truce, as you can imagine) and made the soldiers fire their weapons, they warned each other to stay low and shot high into the air. I mean, WHY ISN'T THERE A MOVIE OF THIS? I love this story. It's about what I like best about humans.

I got The Water Seeker at the library. It's juvenile fiction and I thought one of my kids would read it. But I just read it myself.

Frankly, there's enough about childbirth and the dying of women in childbirth that I'm not sure my 13 year old son could handle it. It's a little-house-on-the-prairie type of thing. I love that type of thing. It's not amazing but it is good and charming. I liked it. I finished it--which says a lot because I don't finish books I don't like. Life's too short.  I really need to keep a list of books I haven't finished. That would be useful. But for now, give this one a try. It will remind you of 5th grade Utah History when you learned about trappers.

I was pleased to read The Man Who Loved Books too Much and discover one of the main players in this weird story is a Utah icon--Ken Sanders of Ken Sanders Rare Books. He's quite a character. This is the story of a guy who loves to steal expensive rare books. Ken Sanders helped catch him. It's surprisingly intriguing.

I can't believe I have never been to Ken Sander's bookstore. I'm going to go there this summer with the kids. I can't go anywhere right now because it's too cold outside to do or go anywhere.

Then I got a book in the mail from Karey White--one of our own! I love it when a blogger makes good and publishes a book. I wish it would happen to me. Of course, I would have to write a book first.

This is a really good book and Karey should be proud of herself. She's a good writer. Gifted is compelling and I really enjoyed all the references to Mormon stuff. I don't read much LDS fiction. I don't think I've ever read any LDS fiction, come to think of it. It's kind of fun to talk about church callings and the spirit. Congratulations Karey!


OK. So then I read another dog book. But The Other End of the Leash is different.

This isn't so much about dog training as it is about animal behaviorism and why people (as primates) do the wrong things when we try to get dogs (canines) to obey us. Like, repeating commands louder and louder when dogs aren't really all that verbal. It's very interesting and I learned some useful stuff. The writer is a really devoted "dog person" in a way that I'm sure you think I am but which is, truthfully, a tiny bit of a turn off to me personally. Still, if you have a dog and you are trying to get it to obey you this is a good book to read. Incidentally, when I was at the dentist last week (no cavities) I was reading this book in the waiting room. The young woman (early 20s?) sitting across from me was just sitting there doing nothing--no magazine, no phone, no book--David Puddy style. I took note of it but, whatever. Then she said, "Excuse me! I don't mean to bother you but I have to ask, is that a good book?" Well, like I said it's a good book in a certain context. "Would you recommend it?" she asked. I told her I would recommend it for people who have dogs. She didn't say she had a dog or anything, but that she loved to read a lot, even though she was just sitting in the waiting room not reading or anything. So, there you have it. This book is fine. Read it if you have a dog or time at the dentist to kill.

If you are nosy like me then you will probably want to read Other People's Rejection Letters.

This is just a series of other people's rejection letters. Some belong to famous people (Jimmy Hendrix's discharge from the army). There's quite a variety. There's a really mean letter from F. Scott Fitzgerald to his daughter. What a jerk. Now I will never reread The Great Gatsby and my lukewarm high school impression of it will have to stand forever. There are all kinds of breaking up letters and even an excommunication letter. Pretty interesting.

Finally, I read I Was Told There'd be Cake by Sloane Crosley. Just another book I wish I'd written.

This is a book of funny essays. It makes me think optimistically, "I could write a book like this!" While at the same time making me feel depressed, "This book has already been written." It's really good in a quirky David-Sedaris kind of way. I'm quite sure you would like it--if you're into that sort of thing.

Bottoms up! (Book bottoms, that is.)

Love is Weird and Sometimes Gross

Valentine's Day is this month and I wish you unconditional, unreserved, unabashed, fully-requited love. This playlist, however, is here to remind you that sometimes things don't work out like you planned.