I’m baaaack!


I want to revive this blog…I think.


I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: there are things about living in Linden that I like and appreciate (unpretentious, low-key mentality, immigrants and people from everywhere, proximity to train and NYC) but sometimes, I hate it (that same low-key mentality, people who sometimes can’t think beyond the here and now) etc.

I hate the fact that there are no cool little shops but tons of nail salons and 99 cent stores. I hate the fact that the former mayor’s big coup was to fill the swamp on the edge of town with a honking huge shopping mall/movie theater extravaganza (Aviation Plaza) where all the Staten Island folk descend like vultures on the weekend to buy up everything that isn’t nailed down. The take-out food really sucks here (but this is Jersey and it sucks just about everywhere); there aren’t any good sit-down places either…except maybe the Cavalier Diner/Restaurant (it’s more than just a diner you know).

I’m ranting.

The top of this heap of hate is the Linden Shoprite. The store manager and the produce manager and I think the meat manager all know me by sight because every time I go in there (and I mean every time, like 2x/week), I find food that has expired or is rotting on the shelf. Today I found deli meat that had expired on May 23, 2008. I mean, that’s over a month ago. And there it was, sitting pretty as you please on the rack waiting to be purchased by some unsuspecting person. If this were Shoprite in Clark or Woodbridge, there would be such an uproar. But it’s Linden, and too many people don’t care. I’ve even gone down to City Hall. They were basically useless. I guess I’ll go back down there tomorrow to write out a formal complaint, again. I can’t help but think about the person who might be in a rush, might not be aware of expiration dates, might not have the courage to go and complain to City Hall or even to the manager. Shoprite has been doing this for years and getting away with it. Maybe if I keep complaining and writing about it on the web, somebody will listen. We might not be Westfield, or Cranford or even Clark, but we deserve to have fresh meat and dairy too.

I just read a really interesting article by Alice Walker’s daughter Rebecca here:


Dear mama Alice thought that motherhood meant enslavement and basically spent more time traveling, writing, teaching and doing anything but being a mother. Since I’ve become a mother, I’ve tried hard not to judge anybody–especially other women who chose to or not to become mothers. Some people should never have children. Period. Just because you have all the right parts doesn’t mean you have the mental ability to rear another human being.

Reading this article definitely portrays another side of a woman I admire greatly. There is a price to be paid for all of this freedom. Feminism aside, there are only so many hours in the day. I think women of my generation (X, I think) have been told over and over again that we can do anything and be anybody we want to be and that is true to some extent. But we can’t do it all at once or have it all at the same time. Unless you can live on 3 hours a night of sleep, you can’t spend the time you need to with your children, cook, clean, manage the house (let’s face it, that hasn’t really changed much), work your full time job, make doctor’s appointments, etc. It just isn’t possible. It is an illusion that we can have it all. Something will suffer.

As a SAHM, I feel undervalued in the eyes of society. I haven’t worked this hard since I taught 9th grade English and yet people look at me funny when I say I’m still at home with my daughter. There are days when I jokingly remind my husband that Lincoln freed the slaves a long time ago; there are days when I feel like I’m drowning in domesticity. Then I strap the babe in her stroller and we take the train into NY to a museum so I can feel sane again.

No matter what it is, you’ve got to put the time in: friendships, motherhood, marriage, blogging. If you don’t pay attention to it and put some effort in, the results can be disastrous. It’s been 4 years and Alice Walker hasn’t even seen her grandson–that’s her flesh and blood! That’s her legacy too, not just her writing. I guess she doesn’t see it that way.

Simone de Beuvoir refused to marry or have children; she didn’t want her art to suffer. I’m glad she didn’t so her children wouldn’t suffer.

Not me reporting…but others. Is there some ABC rule that you must only weigh 80lbs in order to be a reporter?

One of my addictions is watching the news (mostly ABC) and I’ve noticed over the last few months how super thin Deborah Roberts and Kate Snow are. I mean, they are starving in front of the camera. Now I’m not one to comment on body weight/type since I hate when people do that about me, but their situation is really extreme. If the camera adds 10lbs then I shudder to think of what they must look like in person.

Newswatching–that’s one addiction I need to quit (among many others). It’s not like they’re giving me real news anyway. I do listen/watch the BBC and NPR but the first place I run to is ABC. I was breastfed off of their news.

I’m back, by the way…not that anyone cares. No one reads this stupid thing, not my husband, not my family. Not the 2 friends I have left on the planet. No one. It’s just me, my laptop and the universe. Oh well, you come into the world alone and you leave it alone and somewhere in the middle, you exist alone too.

There’s so much to talk about…Obama, Hillary, Living Lohan, cutting my Afro. But I’ve been gripped by apathy and inertia. Nobody’s reading this right, so who cares?



There is this mom I barely know that I met at the rec center in Rahway. At first, we connected really well. She had lots of great ideas and didn’t want to be defined as “just a stay-at-home mom.” She was also young and black and had a huge afro too. “What could be wrong with her?” I thought to myself. Hmmmmm.

Then I started to notice the sexy shoes. I mean, here we are, trying to make sure the little ones don’t zoom headfirst down the mini-slide and she’s got these gorgeous roach killers on. Then, there is the disappearing act. We’d see her at the rec center or the library, then weeks would go by and she’d show up like she didn’t miss a thing, no explanation, nothing.

When she did show, she’d be late. No, I mean, really late. She would average 30-45 minutes off the clock. I invited her to my Discovery Toys party and we had to wait for her. I invited her to my Friday mom’s group and once she blew us off and when she did show, she was 50 mins late. Baby Boo got invited to her son’s chi-chi Gymboree party and the guests were all there before the birthday boy.

Yesterday I’m at the rec center and she tells me that she used my name as a reference for nursing school. I looked at her, smiled and told her that it was okay even though I was dumbfounded. “I guess I really should have asked you first,” she said and smiled. Who is this woman? And why do people like that keep popping up in my life? I really should have said something snide, but I was too busy being confused.

Maybe she’s so weird because she’s from south Jersey. Argh!

…today to see what kind of half-dead, cheap Easter plants I could get my hands on and was met with a few shocks.

First, there was a greeter. At first I thought, “She must know those people” because in all of the years that I’ve been shopping at Home Depot, I’ve never been greeted. Not without someone wanting to just say hello. When the greeter greeted me, with some sincerity, I might add, I was really surprised. I greeted her back.

I then proceeded to acquire said little half-dead Easter plants, which weren’t so half-dead after all. And they were pretty cheap. What was more surprising was that I could actually walk down the aisles without having to navigate around comatose shoppers or bratty kids on heelies. There was nobody in there. A good friend of mine mentioned to me recently that she had gone to HD and couldn’t believe how empty it was. Here I was on a Saturday (Easter Saturday!!!) and there were a few souls here and there, but not the rabid throng that I’m so used to on the weekend.

The most amazing thing was the fact that there were cashiers standing in front of their registers, beckoning–yes, beckoning customers to get their items rung up. One cashier tilted her head, inviting me over. Back in the old, flush money days, you could flash a pocketful of green at a cashier and she wouldn’t even break her gum chewing rhythm to acknowledge your pathetic existence.

Could it be that this was just a really well-managed Home Depot (Rt. 1 South in Edison)? The stock was organized, the aisles were clean. It looked really inviting. If I had more money, I would have spent more just because everything looked so damn good. Shoppers beware. With the market downturn, methinks the days of the orange apron might be numbered. It’ll be just a matter of time before all of those Home Depots and Lowes start closing their doors. Then, we’ll be really stuck since the little hardware guy at the corner no longer exists.

I feel like the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I’m a chicken with no head, squawking around the yard trying to find myself.

I’m applying to grad school (for another post-secondary degree for which I will make no money). I take the GREs on 2/26 and have had absolutely no time to blog. Throw into that mix, 2 new tutees and a project from my old job (their timing is impeccable…but I’m not complaining since I need the $$$) and a 2 year-old who refuses to do anything I say and you’ve got someone who barely knows what day it is. There is so much to talk about…the Grammys (of which I’m kind of boycotting), Hillary, Barack, the rising price of wheat (by 150%!) and the lack of great restaurants in New Jersey. Ahh, the blogging life, how my fingers itch for thee!

Now, where’s my drink…

Hell must be frozen; the devil is wearing fur tights. The motherfuckin’ Giants have won the Superbowl. Everyone in the NY/NJ/CT tri-state area has been busting at the seams for the last week, happy, yet very confused. We’ve all been walking around, scratching our heads (or balls) and saying, “Now, exactly how did the Giants make it to the Superbowl?” I’m not a HUGE football fan but you must have been in a coma not to at least notice all the hype.

And now we’re scratching our heads (and balls) and saying, “Did I just see what I think I saw? Did the Giants actually win the Superbowl?” This is some kinda dream. I’m just waiting for Denzel to ring the doorbell with nothing but a pair of swim trunks on and a wine cooler in his hand.

To think…we haven’t even been drinking…

So The Hubster has been teaching our lovely daughter the rallying cry “No justice, no peace!” and “The people, united, will never be defeated!” He has also been teaching her the black power fist. Either she’s gonna be a revolutionary or a Republican (or both if that’s at all possible).

I’m tucking away some money for therapy in addition to her college fund. Poor thing.

I haven’t been blogging as much as I’d like. It’s not that I’m short on things to say (oh never that)…it’s just that I’ve been slogging instead. Slogging through January; through cold short days and even colder long nights. Through the grim economic forecast which gets grimmer (more grim?) every second. Through endless sessions of speech, OT and ABA therapy for my daughter. At least she’s getting better. I’m thankful for that as I slog…

Am I the only one who thinks Hillary’s “moment of deep emotion” today was full of shit? (Full disclosure: I’m a registered Dem who has high hopes for Hil.) I think that at the 5 am briefing today, someone said to HC, “You gotta pump up the emotion factor. The people need to see your heart.” That is basically what the pundits have been saying about how Obama and Huckabee swept through Iowa.

We all know that Hillary lacks a certain, shall we say, pulse. At times she reminds me of those strange Japanese robots that can clean your house and run a diagnostic on your car. They look like people and sound like people, but they ain’t people. And neither is she. And that is her major area of weakness.

There is really nothing wrong with that, except when it’s time for her to take a stand on something. If she steps on someone’s toes by picking a side or an issue, then it’s going to cost her a deal somewhere down the road. She’s all about the deal, baby. Can she get things done, sure, but is that what we really want? I don’t know.