Why-yi-yi Oh Why?

The Frankenstorm is coming!  The governor of Connecticut was on TV this morning calling the storm "the worst disaster of our lifetime that we have been able to prepare ourselves for."  (He's got a way with words)  Winds will reach sustained speeds of up to 80 miles per hour, storm surges will flood coastal areas and people may lose power for days.  Already thousands of people have been forced to evacuate their homes.

The only non-threatening aspect of this storm?  It's name. Sandy.  Really?  It's like the big, jowly bulldog that answers to Fifi.   Here's what comes to my mind when I hear Sandy.

Little Orphan Annie's lovable rescue pup.  Only a threat if your last name is Hannigan.

Because I am TV-minded, the name Sandy also makes me think of the warm-hearted patriarch of the Cohen family, played by Peter Gallagher.  Sandy Cohen brought the Hannukah to Seth's Chrismukkah, which I loved him for.




And, of course, last-- but not least-- the name Sandy calls to mind pop culture's most famous Sandy:

And this scene (more specifically the song "Sandy" that Travolta sings later on in this scene) is the one that is plaguing me.  I can't help but try to make new lyrics.

Stranded in my drive-way,
Shut-in--not cool.  And the district
has cancelled all school....

Sandy, can't you see, I'm in misery.
You're gonna hit, they've closed Target
There's nothing left for me
Trees have flown, all alone
I sit and wonder why-iy-iy oh why
They named you-- ugh--Sandy.

Let's hope Sandy turns out to be all hype and as wimpy as its name suggests.

I Have a Good Excuse

Weaselsnob has been doing all the heavy lifting around here lately. I haven't blogged in a while.  This is because:

a) We just packed up our whole house and moved;

b) I spend my days either unpacking boxes or waiting on (bad musical) hold finding out why Verizon and/or Cablevision has blown off their service window YET AGAIN; or

c)

Clearly I do not have my priorities straight.



La Vie en Bleu

For some time my 11-year-old daughter has wanted to chop all her hair off a la Emma Watson.  I have stalled her for as long as possible knowing that while short hair on a girl wouldn't cause a flutter in England, American girls prize long hair. That's just the reality.  Plus, she dresses exclusively in sportswear and already gets mistaken for a boy. On the heels of the London Olympics, however, she begged me to let her "Abby Wambach" her hair and against my better judgement (and own cringe worthy experience) I let her. 

Every woman I know with curly hair has at some point cut it boy-short.  And regretted it.  I totally had a John Taylor haircut in the '80s until a dear old lady approached me on the sidewalk one day and said, "You look like a nice, strong young man.  Could you help me with these boxes?"  Yeah.  Haven't had short hair since.

Weaselsnark recalled a time when someone told her she was in the wrong bathroom.  "No, I'm a girl", she squeaked in mortification.

Needless to say I was nervous about the haircut but - shocking newsflash - my daughter is not in fact, me!  Her hair looks so pretty short and she is absolutely FINE with people thinking she's a boy.  When I suggested on the first-day-at-school-with-boy-hair that she dress slightly more femininely she pooh-poohed me and came downstairs wearing soccer shorts, a basketball shirt and Sambas.  "I'm going to pretend I'm the new boy," she laughed.

Now she comes home every day with a tally of how many people mistook her for a boy and she sincerely finds it funny.  She even had her own weaselsnark experience in the bathroom! Her best friend who also battles the boy-identity issue even with very long hair advised her that when people ask if you're a girl or a boy just answer, "Yes".  God bless.  That's confidence for you.