Hi. Soooo...my name here is fake. It's a pseudonym. I don't think anyone would really care, but I don't want any of my Middletown neighbors accidentally finding it, while trying to google my phone number for a PTA thing (which they totally wouldn't anyway) and then, eventually, have it hurt my kids in the long run.
So this is a fake identity; an avatar, if you will. And while Penelope Heard is generally a nice not-young woman, sometimes she's inappropriate. Or depressing and emo. Or callous, spiteful, extremely snobby and classist.
Here's the thing about me, though (real me and Penny me), I like to talk. I like getting shit out. Mostly because, as a kid, I was constantly told to be quiet, don't say that (probably for all the reasons mentioned above - *sigh* my parents tried). So is Penny my id or something? I don't know, I never took psychology. Mostly because that teacher in my high school... you know what? That's a whole story, for another time. (Surprisingly, not a pervy one, just awkward. *sigh* Relax.)
Alright, so she's inappropriate. She's also fairly lazy. So, while I have an avenue to say things as the real me, via facebook and twitter (which I never do, but have set up), Phebe does not have any other accounts. And there are plenty of things that real me really shouldn't post. Especially at certain times. Like today. So, I thought I'd just do a post where I list a few of my current "status updates" that I would certainly regret if I were to post them as myself.
At the pediatrician yesterday and an 8 year old boy saunters in. He really sauntered. He has gel in his hair and (I'm not lying) two pierced ears. Two! On a small boy! Can you believe that shit? What the hell? And then he opens the door to office and the receptionist gives him a big old hug and says "Oh! My God! We haven't seen you in so long!" And says nothing about the earrings. Oh and at this same pediatrician's office, they were playing a full-on pirated version of Kung Fu Panda 2. I know this because of the quality, sure, but also because you see, at one point, two people crossing the screen, going to their seats. I think it's time to find another pediatrician's office.
You know how they say you should learn something new every day? I feel like I've spent the last two decades learning, daily, how shitty people are. I feel like that's not a good thing.
I had to go to my primary care doctor today while my son tagged along. He's three. It's horribly painful to try to have him behave in an office for an hour, but I had to do it. In the waiting room, a grandfather started talking to me about my son. It was ok, he was nice. So we're talking, talking and then get to how he lives with them, and how sometimes he has to discipline them, but not often. He hates time outs, though. Sometimes a kid just needs to be smacked. What the hell to say to that? Oh and also, this grandfather mistook me as my child's grandmother. I may need to also find another primary care physician. Or move. Moving might be easier.
As far as the learning new something everyday thing, though, I actually did learn something new at my doctor's appointment. Turns out dandruff and psoriasis are not the same thing. Who knew? So the "dandruff" I've had for seven years is actually (say it with me) pso-RI-a-sis. That's how I pronounce it, anyway.
I have a question. How does anyone have an affair with their doctor? I mean, in the history of mankind, that's happened, right? Only, in my case, my doctors tend to hear things like, "My pee smelled funny yesterday and also today." Or, "My left boob hurts so bad, is so swollen and hard, that I want to cut it off with a kitchen knife, because that would be less painful." That one was due to mastitis. So-Mui took it like a champ, though. She's a professional. Seriously, there's not one sexy ailment, really. Maybe that Benjamin Button thing? "Doctor, I seem to be getting younger every day." "Call me when you look like a twenty year old, Madam."
Changing topics, There's a blogger I think is incredibly funny - Steam Me Up, Kid. I (real me) follow her on facebook. Lots of people do, she's (rightfully so) very successful as a humor blogger. Anyway, one of her more recent status updates mentions that she was in Soho (the blogger's mentioned she lives in California) and saw Lady Gaga get out of a car and I literally had to walk away from the computer so I wouldn't write "Wait! You were in New York? I was within twenty miles of you, Steamme? Crazy!" because honestly, that would've gone over like a ton of bricks, me thinks. Methinks?
Last one. I recently discovered, via Imogen Robertson's blog (see my last post for my ravings), the blog The History Girls. It's a blog that features posts from roughly fifteen successful female historical novel writers. And they're mostly British, it seems, but not all. And they're all professional writers. Mostly, that's my point here. And they seem really cool and I can't wait to read all the archived stuff and maybe find some series via them, etc etc.
Anyway, today's post is about cross-dressing in historical novels. Mostly, they say, hey, I'm having two young-ish girl characters dress up as boys so that they can do things (like go to a play, or be in a play, or escape or something - not the other kinds of things - mind out of gutter). Has anyone else had their characters do this? So that's the general gist. Oh and that it's hard to have it be a man dressing as a woman (for similar things, I guess?) and have it not degenerate into something farcical.
And again, I'm having a hard time not commenting and saying, "Uhhh, guys? Dr. Frank-N-Furter? Hello? Sexiest mother fucking sweet transvestite out there, amiright? Well? *crickets*" Hell, I can't even do that as Penelope Heard because they might link back to this website and, since honestly, I hope to one day be a historical novel writer, I don't want to "introduce" myself to them and then immediately make them think I'm a perv because I find Tim Curry extremely fuckable in that outfit. Amiright?
Although, come to think of it, Diana Gabaldon has written about gay male transvestites in her Lord John series and since I'm guessing there's not a whole lot of slash writing going on over there (there's a lot of young adult novelists in the mix), they may not have thought of that whole aspect of it. Mayhaps I should educate them on that too. *sigh* No, I won't.
Kind of reminds me of the time that my mom used the word "fluffers" to describe herself and her sister and I had to tell her what it really meant. See, not due to anything in my control, mind you, but at that time I was in grad school and had an a-hole for a labmate and he had to play Howard Stern every god damned night. Every night. It was fucking horrible. This went on for a year, and then thankfully, I got out of that particular room. Horrible. Anyway, so I learned what a fluffer was. Cut to a year later, when my mom was congratulating herself on what a wonderful wedding prep job she had done for a friend of hers in Santa Barbara and that it wasn't really a matter of redoing their backyard for the small reception, it was a matter of "fluffing it up". "We should call ourselves "The Fluffers," shouldn't we Sue? Let's do that!" Errrr, Mom? I don't actually think she's looked at me the same since.
That's it for now for the inappropriateness. Whew. I'm glad I got all that off my chest. I feel better.
Until next time...