I Don't Want To Be Like Mike-I Just Want To Have Him Over For Drinks
Friday, October 16, 2009
Sorry I haven't been around much this week. I've been stuck in a rut for various reasons. But, I do feel like the world was spinning on without me while I was out of the loop. 

I have watched absolutely no TV this weeks, thanks to my quandary-filled life. And this is how out of the real world I've been: I turned on my computer last night to the red strip of breaking news on MSN, declaring, "Good News-The Boy Wasn't in the Flying Spaceship Balloon!" And I'm thinking, Wow I really HAVE missed a lot.

It's homecoming week for my Senator, which when you are a Senator there is an inordinate amount of crap to be done during Homecoming and when you are a Senator who is not old enough to drive, your driver, aka mother, gets dragged into all the crap. I'm also beginning to think that Homecoming dances have become like mini-weddings for teenage girls, but I'll post on that next week.

We've had some sadness this week, too. A dear, wonderful lady and lifelong friend of our family has left us. I will share her greatness with you in a post to come.

I've also been working on my novel when I'm not chauffeuring the Senator and I'm fixing up this very last bit of it, but I'm in a bit of a quandary and I need some opinions on something that has me all vexed up good and I didn't know who to turn to and then I thought of you- all of the lovely, lovely you's and I thought that maybe, just maybe I could ask for your help. But, that's also a post for next week. We'll be getting a little interactive and I'm really looking forward to hearing from you, but I'll tell you all about that next week, too when the Senator is less busy and the mini-wedding is over. 

And then there's the email my sister, Lena and Mallory's mom sent me this week. See, I've been really, really worried about the Swine Flu. I am very afraid of it, seriously. Hypochondria runs through my blood and on top of that I am utterly fascinated by weird illnesses of all kinds. I love the Medical Discovery Channel with all my heart. But, even while I'm transfixed and I can't stop watching shows like The Tree Man of Indonesia, who looks like this, because he's covered in some rare sort of warty tumors brought on by of all things, the HPV cervical virus:

I'm thinking to myself, "Yeah, I am so gonna get that disease."

I am fascinated and terrified at the same time.

And so I find myself following the news, worrying after each and every Swine Flu death. And remember, at first, they were reporting the people who died all had underlying conditions, but now, people are dropping like flies from this terrible flu and now NO ONE has underlying conditions. It's scary stuff, Internet, I tell you.

After much consternation and talking to our wonderful pediatrician and reading and obsessing over it, I've decided we're going to get the vaccine. But, here's my plan: I'm going to wait and let the other guinea pig suckers get the vaccine first. I'll wait and watch for any brain leprosy or tree tumors from the shot. Let others go before me. That's my motto. 

In the meantime, my sister sent me an email from some fancy doctor who gave tips on how to avoid getting the swine flu. It made a bucketload of sense since the portals of entry are the nose and mouth. His instructions to stay well were: 

1. Wash your hands pretty much until they're rough and ragged and are the texture of a coal miner's scraggy hands. This is no problem in my book, since I'm a little OCD about hand washing. 

2. Keep the hands away from the face. No problem either, my everyday mantra to my little nose-picking children.

3. Gargle twice a day with salt water or Listerine.

4. Use your Neti pot at least twice a day, if not more. For those of you not familiar with a Neti pot, it looks like a little teapot that you fill with saline water. You tip your head over your sink in a really awkward fashion and flush your nose with the saline until it comes pouring out like pool water after you've done a cannonball. It's supposed to help with colds and sinus problems and all that snotty mess. I am a firm believer in holistic therapy of any kind. I don't have a Neti pot, but I have a device like an Afrin bottle, made for the same purpose and I really think all that flushing does work. It's gross, but it gets rid of the snot and germs. 

5. Blow your nose as hard as you can several times a day.

6. Vitamin C and warm tea.

And since I am willing to do anything to keep the little piggy away, I have been doing these things.

Now, in a regular, action-packed day in my house, it is difficult to scrape out a chunk of time to even go to the potty without someone or something needing attending to. So, this has been very difficult to fit in gargling and hand washing and washing my nose in saltwater every other minute and blowing my nose like my dad always did, like a volcano erupting. And I have to say, it is taking up ALL my time! These vaccinated folks need to hurry up and keel over from the shot or show me no underlying symptoms. All this work is very tiresome, indeed. 

These are all the things keeping me busy this week, but I thought I'd take a little time out from being vexed and flushing my nostrils to tell you a little story, Internet. 

My sister sent me an email last night saying she'd just found out at a dinner party she was attending that Michael Jordan's, yes THE Michael Jordan's, son goes to the same college as the O-Dawg. 

It's true, Internet, he does attend the same school as the Odawg and not only that, the Odawg has been at many of the same parties as this young gentleman.

The Odawg is really embracing college. She has learned that parties and staying up all night and meeting lots and lots of new friends with the shared interests of parties and staying up all night are the main components of college life for her. We just keep telling her, whatever happens in college, stays in college. Just keep the grades up or there will be no more parties and staying up for you.

My sister went on to say in her email that she MIGHT have called the Odawg while at her dinner party and encouraged her to seek this boy out. She said she also MIGHT have informed the Odawg that if anything were to come of a relationship with this boy, my sister would be requesting part of the baby mamma settlement. 

As you can probably tell, my sister has the same sort of irreverent humor as me. She also confessed to having a bit of wine before calling the Odawg. 

Now do not think the Odawg is going to run right out to trap the Little Jordan.The Odawg understands her aunt is a carbon copy of her mother and she knows that 98% of what comes out of our mouths is insanity, so she pays it no mind. 

When my sister emailed me, I wrote her back, saying I, too have encouraged her to seek this boy out. (I told you we were of the same insane like.)  Not because I'm looking for some fast cash, mind you. I just want some face time with Mr. Jordan, himself. I told the Odawg it would be awesome if she could hook up with the Little Jordan. Michael would come down to visit his son and his little Odawg girlfriend and we, the parents of the girlfriend, could have Michael over for some wine. I probably couldn't talk to him about basketball because I don't know anything, not a single thing, about the sport, but maybe he's just plain tired of talking about basketball. 

I could talk to him about gambling, because, well....I won't say it, I think we all know what Mike likes. I don't know much about gambling either, but I'd love to get some good tips even though I only play the quarter slot machines. Maybe he knows some secrets for winning on the quarter slots.

I could also talk to him about Gatorade because we love Gatorade in our house, the blue kind, especially when somebody's sick. 

Of course, there's always Nikes. I love shoes, even if they are athletic shoes. I could talk about shoes for hours. I could tell him about my Cole Haans, dressy stylish shoes with Nike bottoms. I love those shoes. Fashionable and functional at the same time. They're one of Oprah's favorite things. 

And speaking of Oprah, Mike and I could gossip about her. I'm sure he knows her. He could tell me what she's really like, if she's really that charitable and sweet or if behind the scenes, she's some sort of raging shrew who hates Africa. And maybe he could tell me how to get on the Oprah's Favorite Things show. Everybody wants to be on that show so they can walk away with thousands of dollars worth of Oprah's treasures. But, Oprah keeps that date a top secret. No one knows, but I bet you Michael could find out for me. And maybe, he could arrange an introduction. And then I could talk to Oprah about hooking me up with Bono, my sole bucket list item. All these degrees of separation might just get me some Apple Bottom jeans, a Panini maker, some Uggs, perhaps a car and ultimately, a date with my Irish rock star, the biggest jackpot of all. 

Perhaps if Michael had enough wine and wanted to tell me all the scoop on his marriage and then almost divorce and then reconciliation and then real divorce, I would be glad to listen. I would even put my hand on his strong, muscled shoulder while he was reliving the pain and afterwards, I would definitely give him a comforting, close, lingering embrace. You know...being a true friend and almost in-law and such. I'm giving in that way.

He could reciprocate the favor, too. When Little Jordan and the Odawg girlfriend traveled up to Chicago to visit the Jordans, we could go, too. Perhaps, Mr. Jordan would have us as his guest in his home, which I can only assume is the nicest place besides Oprah's in all of Chicago. We could hit all the happening spots at night with my sisters and we sisters would be all, "Whoo-Hoo, look at us cool, fancy chicks. Don't you wish YOU were hanging with Michael Jordan-Jealousss!"

And there's always a chance that Little Jordan and the Odawg might fall madly in love. She might not be all about the common sense and she might be a raging hurricane when it comes to messiness and she might have a fiery temper as mean as a hornet's nest and she might be very high maintenance and she might be terribly not pc, (she wants to own a primordial dwarf, you know, like her own little doll) but... she sure is pretty. She's got that going for her. And if they fell madly in love, perhaps there would be a wedding. 

And oh, what a wedding it would be! What a guest list! Oprah would come and maybe she would bring Bono! And all of the famous basketball players like Magic Johnson and . . .well, all the others would all come. (I told you I didn't know anything about basketball.) And The Hubby would be there and he could do his white man's boogey. And there would be food and wine a-flowin' and a grand old time would be had by all. 

And all she has to do is meet the Little Jordan. The ball's in her court, snicker. But, sadly my dream is dashed because she refuses. She says he's got a bunch of folks trying to worm their way in to his inner posse. She says it's kind of sad, everywhere he goes, there are all these hanger-ons, trying to get to the Little Jordan. 

And if there's one thing the Odawg is not, is a hanger-on. She is not nor will she ever be an ass kisser to anyone, no matter what. This may not serve her well in the years to come when she is young and trying to champion the world and a little ass kissing might just do the trick. But, that girl of mine, she is fierce in her sense of equality when it comes to her place in the world. She is just as good as anyone else and she knows it. I admire that fierceness of hers. 

But, still, just a little hello? Come onnnn, it's Michael Jordan's son. No matter how I've tried to coerce her, she still says no. 

Kids are so selfish, nowadays.

Today's Definite Download: The Spice Girls, "Wannabee." Not only is it a kick-ass song, a song that almost, note I say almost, justifies their existence as pop stars, but it's lyrics state, "Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want..." 

I really want to meet Michael Jordan and have him over for wine! Come on, Odawg, take care of your old mom, won't you?

1 comment:

ProudSister said...

I'm sticking to my guns. It all works: they're classmates, there's the Chicago connection, and she definitely doesn't kiss butt which is what Little Jordan needs. There might have been wine behind it, but its not the worst idea I've ever had.

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