Our Last Year on the Sidelines

Dear Danville Fourth of July Parade 2012,

Sidelines, 2012.

There were too many advertisements and politicians in the parade this year.  Too many tired scouts and not enough glitter, floats or entertainment.  It was an hour and a half of unabashed marketing.

This will not stand.

Next year the Greenbombs and our Associates will be taking the Parade by storm.  You mark my words, we are bringing the party next year.  And it will be awesome.  I don’t know what exactly we will be marching for, but we will march and we will delight the crowd with our marchiness.

Our last family picture.  Nate will not be in the parade next year, but he will be represented in spirit.  This is our first major holiday without him and the consensus is we do not like it.

No more recruiting our singer Aubrey from the Greenbomb bandstand to wail out a number.  No more stealing our children from the sidelines to march in support of the stupid Tea Party.  No more “Miss Danville” if it’s not from our ranks – that means you too, O’C’s and extendeds. 

Sidelines, 2011. 

Sidelines, 2011.

We will sparkle the pants off you next year, Danville.  And it will be spectacular.

Yours,

Nortorious et al.

 Fourth of July Dance Party 2011

 

Sidelines, 2012.  Mimi with her new neighbor friends.

True Story

Once upon a time in 2002 I lived in Hollywood and had a boyfriend with a dog.  The dog was an adorable Basset Hound named Jojo.

When Jojo was a puppy I used to walk her in the Hollywood Hills near the Hollywood sign, a well known place called Runyon Canyon. 

One day I was walking Jojo and some old guy wearing a baseball hat and ugly 90’s sunglasses came up to talk to me, ostensibly about the dog but really he was flirting with me and it I wasn’t into it.  He was short and overly friendly.

As I was walking away having brushed him off awkwardly I was thinking about how odd it was to have your perfect white teeth off-centered.  Looked familiar, but I couldn’t place how I recognized that smile.

And then the guy’s two middle school age kids came running up to him, one a brownish haired girl and the other a mixed race boy.

And then I realized that I had just met, chatted with, and brushed off Tom Cruise.

This is how he looked that day, but with a hat and glasses.

But then he started dating Penelope Cruz.  And then the whole TomKat thing happened.

Coulda been me, maybe. 

He didn’t look like this.

Texting Rules

In 1946 George Orwell Wrote “Politics and the English Language” based on the idea that people were taking far too many liberties with English.  He wrote,

Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is decadent and our language -- so the argument runs -- must inevitably share in the general collapse.

I'm a texter, almost exclusively. I have always been phoneaphobic and having a swarm of children has made me more so.  Texting has become a major mode of exchanging English communication.  If Pam is texting fluently it means that texting is fully established.  Initially texting had character limits which lead to texting shorthand.  This shorthand met it’s hideous zenith in Twitter, 140 characters of which I regularly find incomprehensibly illegible.  I like text shortcuts, but I have my limits.

Now texting has no character limits.  Thus, it is our moral obligation and privilege to reinstate the loveliness of the English Language.  I hereby propose these bylaws.

Texting Expectations

1)  It's "you" not "u".  U sound like a thirteen year old girl. Not ok. (This means U Jim).

2) Digits for numbers are fine, digits for words are NOT fine. B4? Where4 art u? Shoot me. 

 
3) Do not emoticon me.  If you must use a feeling at least use iemoji pictures.  Or better yet, send me a picture of yourself making that emotion.  That's how I picture emoticons anyway.

4) No winky winky. No matter how you mean it when you wink at me I interpret it as you wanting to take the recipient out on a date with kissing.  It weirds me out.

5) Send more real pictures. They are worth a thousand words.

6) I like when you are clever with your initialisms. Lol is boring. TWF (that was funny) takes me a minute to figure out and makes me laugh for real. Lol retired when AOL died.

7) I hate one word text messages. Don't make me unlock my phone for that crap. Send at least two words.

8)  A fair ratio for texting is 3/1.  As in three texts from one person warrants one text from the other.  If you have sent me three texts it is only common courtesy for me to reply with at least one.  Otherwise I am a bad friend.  This goes both ways.  If I text you three times (lucky you!) and you don’t text me back we are automatically in a fight.  Exceptions, see rule 9.

9) A reasonable amount of time for texting response is within 24-36 hours.  After that I think you are dead.  That’s what I like about texting, it isn’t urgent.

10)  Sentence limit shall forthwith be set at 5.  More than that is a paragraph and requires an email.

That is all, for now.  I’m not a stickler on grammar nor punctuation, I let those things slide because texts are conversational and not formal writing. 

It’s a Colorful Life Part 3: Prideful

C’mon, you didn’t see this coming?
If this is going to offend you or make you say nasty things to me, don't read it.  I won't be offended. I support the LDS church and ALL of it's teachings.  I also like Gay people and parties.  I don't know how it all works out, but I know that God knows and works in mysterious ways.


Tobias Funke, pilot episode of Arrested Development
This weekend was Pride in San Francisco.  As in Gay Pride.  Gay Pride is a weekend event with tons of gay-celebrating events, some glittery, some political, some over the top and obscene, and some respectful and tasteful.  It’s a colorful time of year.
This year Mormons were walking in the Gay Pride Parade. 
Wha-what?  The Mormons?  As in, church attending, temple going, holding callings MORMONS?!  Yes.  Mormons.  At least 100 of them, from what I’ve been told.
But how is this compatible?  How can someone follow the doctrine and sustain the Prophet Thomas S. Monson and still support Marriage Equality?
 
Here’s what Mormons for Marriage Equality is all about: M4ME Press Release
in specifics:

“This group was formed to appeal specifically to a broad group of Mormons that are both active and inactive in church activity; who not only feel that culturally we as Mormons could do a better job reaching out to the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Questioning (LGBTQ) community, but who are also increasingly comfortable taking a public political stand for equality.   

We recognize that many Mormons increasingly feel a desire to support marriage equality, but are unconsciously waiting for validation from other Mormons who are comfortable in that position.  Many have experienced a ‘mighty change of heart’ as they have personally witnessed the impact of marriage discrimination in LGBTQ families.  To that end, the spirit of the mission statement, messaging, and signs used in the event were directly focused on a clear statement that we, as Mormons, support marriage equality.

An important element of our shared values is the following:

Mormons for Marriage Equality bears no ill will toward the LDS Church nor its members whose opinions differ from ours.  While we stand for marriage equality, we do not stand against any church or person.” 

This, in my opinion, does not state that I disagree with how the Prophet nor the Twelve Apostles or any other leadership within the church handled Prop. 8.  I believe they were divinely inspired and, after counseling with my very wise Bishop at the time, supported their inspiration with action.  I spent a lot of time on my knees about this particular subject.  My resolution was “God knows all.”  I don’t know why God led the prophets in that particular direction, but I know that He knows better than I.  Personally, I try to follow the Law of Chastity, but my attitude toward Gay politics is like my attitude toward Women’s Rights:  Pro-choice, pro-life.  I don’t judge nor prevent others from their choices, I merely follow the dictates of my own conscience.

Proud to call both of you my friends, Juni and Tina.  Thanks for going!
That said, if there’s a party to celebrate people being happy with who they are Count. Me. In. 
The night before the Pride Parade was the Pink Party.  It’s a block party thrown by the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (thanks Ellie).  The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, according to their website is: 

a leading-edge Order of queer nuns. Since our first appearance in San Francisco on Easter Sunday, 1979, the Sisters have devoted ourselves to community service, ministry and outreach to those on the edges, and to promoting human rights, respect for diversity and spiritual enlightenment. We believe all people have a right to express their unique joy and beauty and we use humor and irreverent wit to expose the forces of bigotry, complacency and guilt that chain the human spirit.

That’s a pretty good Sisterhood, in my opinion.  Here’s me with some nuns:

I can get behind this kind of fabulousness.  For once I feel under adorned.
The Pink Party has good and bad parts.  I am not a fan of the Raunch Culture in Gaydom any more than I am a fan of Raunch Culture anywhere else.  I consider sex to be sacred and cannot see any place in the public realm appropriate to be accosted with giant penises and that crap.  Have you read Female Chauvinist Pigs by Ariel Levy?  Basically it’s the thesis that strip clubs and the upsurgence of pornography in society is (as it has always been) immoral and degrading.  Can’t we all celebrate Love without being obscene?  While there was a bit of that, mostly it was just a big friendly street party.  I felt safe and there was good food and good music and everybody just out having fun in the city I love.

By the Castro Theater

One of Three DJ Booths

There were some sensational costumes.  It was a feast for the eyes!  Where can I buy those fabulous earrings?
I’ve been to a few Gay-sponsored events before, but the feeling at this event was really positive.  People were chatty and polite, and also there was Crème Brulee.

I know all this Pride stuff isn’t everybody’s cup of decaffeinated herbal lukewarm tea.  But being from the Bay Area and reconciling the appreciation for diversity I learned at my lovely hippie school with the gospel I love so well is not an easy thing to do.  I hope I haven’t turned you off by letting you in to my corner of politics, I rarely blog about politics.  But you guys know me by now, right?  And if you are horribly disgusted that I would celebrate with Le Gays, then may the bridges I burn light the way.

It’s a Colorful Life Part 2: It’s a Process

Hair again.  My hair is pink  rainbow right now.  Here’s the process (ha ha, pun).

How to make your hair pink:

Start with bleach.  I prefer to have a friend or my mother or Some Guy bleach my roots.  Natural color is Silas’ light brown.  My hair goes pretty light in one bleach (I use 40% developer and a couple of packs of that blue bleach powder, found at CVS) and I do my roots every month or so, depending on how long I feel like growing them out. I like roots because it looks more punk to me, like Charlotte Free or Audrey Kitching, pink hair style icons.  And recently Joan Rivers!

 

Charlotte Free, model, how adorable is she?

Audrey Kitching, style editor.

Joan Rivers with pink streaks!  Any age can rock pink.  This means you, Flora.  Barbara would LOVE it.  (Yes, Beth, I just shouted out both you mother AND your grandmother who are fabulous.)

Then I let my hair dry.  It’s brittle and yucky feeling, but that goes away after I put on the color.  Next, dye pink.  Easy.  I do it just like I apply shampoo but on dry hair because I think it saturates better.  I buy Prevana when I can access the license only shops, or you can pick up Special Effects or Manic Panic from Hot Topic (or as my mother calls it “The Devil’s Store!”).  I buy the hottest pink they have and then cut it with tons of conditioner to make it the pale pink shade I like.  I’m in love with pastel pink, reminds me of peonies.  I leave the dye on often until it dries, sometimes I sleep with it on with a plastic bag over my head because I’m super sexy.  It deposits color so it acts like a deep conditioning treatment.

Getting pink.

That’s my base color. 

When I had really long hair I occasionally put in extensions to boost the color of my pink hair and just for fun. 

Long pink hair before I cut it, no extensions here.

I buy real human Remi hair, the kind that’s been offered as sacrifices at Tonsure ceremonies in India.  You can buy it in Oakland or anywhere where lots of people use extensions.  Feel the texture to make sure it feels like healthy good hair.  Sometimes I buy them in tracks, some times I buy them in pieces that are attached with locks – beads that you crimp down over your hair and the wax tips.  Once my lovely friend Jody taught me how to do these and where to place them (crown, temples) I taught my mom and Some Guy.  They are both expert extension putter-inners.  All you need is a needle, thread, pliers, beads and hair.  Here’s instructions, though he does them too big.  Copy the below pattern.  Oh, and buy the beads with silicone liners inside because they don’t slip as much.

 

I keep my locking extensions in about a month or so.  But the best way to do extensions I’ve found is the braiding way.  Basically, someone french braids your hair and then sews the track extensions onto the braids.  It’s impossible to do by yourself.   At long last I finally found a great weavologist – Tiffany!

First row of tracks for sewing.  Tiffany is a pin addict.

Hair.

I buy white blonde and then I do an art project with them: dying them the fabulous colors I love!

Art project at the park.

Mimi and Jude love helping dye the hair.

 

With the color on.  Mimi and Jude picked these colors.

Drying out.

 

All done and ready to get sewn to my melon.

Tiffany’s working tray. 

Because my hair is bleached it doesn’t hold as much grease.  I can go a few days without washing the whole thing.  The tracks obviously take a long time to dry so it’s kind of a three or four day thing: wash, let dry all the way before I sleep on my hair, style my hair the next day, wear it messy from the style from yesterday (my favorite hair day), pony tail the last day.  And my ever so helpful sisters always tell me when my hair is getting nasty.  Thanks!

I’m kind of in love with my extensions.  It’s a hair experience not a ton of white girls understand or engage in, but it’s getting more popular and less controversial.  If you have short hair that’s bugging you or hair that’s too thin or you just don’t feel like you look like you could walk a red carpet, that’s totally fixable and not half as expensive as you think it is.  And if I can teach Some Guy to do them, you could easily learn to do them with your friends or family.  It’s a fun hobby for me.

Some fun websites for colorful hair:

We Love Pastel Hair

Simply a Dye Hard

F-yeah Hair

Hair all done:

You Don’t Know Me But I Stalk Your Blog

Hello, all 800 of you.

Want to know what’s making me hap-hap-happy these days?  Every couple of days some more-or-less stranger comes up to me and says “You don’t know me but I stalk your blog.” 

It makes me want to dance on rainbows or do the Michael Jackson “Hee hee!”

Hee hee!

I’m always so relieved when a reader outs herself (let’s be real, like five of you are men and mostly related to me) and I burst into a big fat ball of happy because I don’t have to explain anything!  You kinda know me already!  You aren’t going to be weirded out by the hair or ask me questions about who my kids belong to and all that.

We’re friends!  Or at least I think we are even though it’s a little one sided – I mean I know next to nothing about you and I’m always completely mystified by your readership.  This is just my dumb old life chronicled primarily as a journal and secondarily for my own amusement and thirdilerily (what?  How is it spelled?) so my friends can see what’s up around these parts.

Is your blog linked to mine and private?  That is not fair.  I want in.  Add me please (that means you, Circe!)

I love getting adds from new friends on facebook who know me through my blog.  I love getting emails from distant acquaintances with third party perspectives.  Most of all I love sharing my testimony from what looks like an unlikely source.  You have to wait for Testimony meeting.  I get to affirm my beliefs any time I want – edited and not off the cuff.

Jesus optical illusion.

It’s kinda how I used to feel when people would tell me they read my book.  I always think “Why?  How did that happen?”  I’m terrible at marketing.  I’m about 50% sure my mom has just bought a bunch of copies and given them out to make me feel good.  I don’t know why Amazon has it listed at $34, that’s highway robbery.

Thankfully, I’m not the last Greenbomb girl blogging.  First Ellie dropped, then Paige, then recently my famous blog sister Celia.  Camille has just started up again, thankfully.  She only writes nice things.  Aubrey also posts fairly regularly and I appreciate her Teddy photos.

Camille, lower left.  Aubrey in white. Both still blogging.  Quitters pictured: Paige, Celia, Ellie.

 

If you’re blogging regularly and I don’t know about it that needs to change.  Please put your address in the comments.  Oh, will you also let me know if there are some things you’d like me to blog about? Always on the search for new topics.

Now for the Shout-outs:

Genevieve – I got your email, hells yes!  You have great ideas.  In a world where I could drive for two hours round trip without my kids I would absolutely meet you for hot chocolate and talk through these things.  I am working on it.  It will happen.

Patty – I delegate you as the responsible party for coordinating aforementioned hangout.  I am in.

Marie – I read you.  Why have we not collectively lain on the couch and commiserated in our overwhelmed state?  Why?  Oh yeah, because we are overwhelmed.

Caroline – I want a fancy button that people can put on their pages “I Am Nortorious” with the html code.  Do you know how to do that?  Do you know someone who knows?

Niya – You famous!  I saw you in Sephora on the Bumble and Bumble Hair Products and in Costco on the modBod cami’s!  Proud of you.

Kirsten – Thanks for inspiring this post.  You made my week! 

Brett – You are my Best Best Friend in the whole wide world.  So it is written, so shall it be.  Be thankful I didn’t use your whole name and make it googleable, and if you deny it I will.

Some Guy – They made a vow their mother would be found.

Mardee – I need more info about Budapest.  Get on that, lazy blogger.  Did you go to the creepy spa I suggested? 

Cafro – Pretend this is me calling you back.  I am a phone call failure, can you please just start texting like a normal human being?

Al – I may be down there in the next month.  By the way, it’s time for another baby.  Specifically of the female variety.

Marc – It’s just a phase.  All of it.

Bronwyn – Your blog about Gwen was delicious.  What a perfect baby she was and darling girl she is.  Also, you are super fun and I am trying to ration myself with you.  And also I’m stealing Ana, soft A.  Fof?

Eva – Got your email, you’re absolutely right.  Thank you for your ongoing support I love hearing from you.

There’s so much more to say to so many of you lovelies, but those are some of the ones who have contacted me and I didn’t respond because I am lame.  There are more I need to contact.

Any way, thanks for coming with me on this wild ride. 

Heals All Wounds

If you chance to meet a frown,
Do not let it stay.
Take this child to Krispie Kreme
And smile that frown away.

And then bring a box of Krispie Kremes to one of your sisters participating in The Biggest Loser Greenbaum Edition in order to sabotage her weight loss efforts. Because we play dirty, and my money's on Camille to win.

Ah. Feeling much better.

White Flag

I guess I just don’t know what to say at all, other than You Girls Win.  You’re totally right.  You’ve definitely taught me a lesson I won’t soon forget.  I sincerely apologize for any offense, be it real or imagined.  You have absolutely forced me to my knees to pray even more than I have been this last hellish year. 

I tried.  I give up.  You win.