The Ultimate Snub from “The View”
I don’t even know where to begin. I woke up this morning with a positive outlook on life, and then I saw it. Have you seen it? Can you believe the news this morning? Is it really possible?
The headline reads, "Goldberg, Shepherd to Join ‘The View’"
Huh?
What?
Are you kidding me?
I don’t know what I’m more upset about: the fact that I haven’t been chosen, or the fact that I wasn’t even considered along with Mario Cantone, Kathy Griffith, and Roseanne Barr. I mean they’re great and all, but we’re talking about BLACK BELT MAMA here. To not even get a nod of consideration is just plain insulting.
I’m thinking that maybe the other major networks scared them off, and that I’ll be approached soon about having my own show. Or maybe the idea of facing off against a brown belt karate-ka was just too scary for the remaining co-hosts. Joy Behar may have been just plain scared. I don’t doubt that.
Regardless, the outcome is certainly not a good one. Although I’m sure Goldberg and Shepherd will do well enough, both of them were expected. Black Belt Mama would be unexpected and would probably boost their ratings ten-fold. But apparently I’m not part of the recycled celebrities list so there was never any hope, not even with all of your help.
Readers wrote Barbara Walters emails and posted my button on their site in support, and I can’t thank you enough. It was a fun ride while it lasted.
Of course, maybe they just want to save me for when Elisabeth goes on maternity leave in the fall. I won’t totally snub their calls if they decide to give me a shot. But wearing the gi on screen in non-negotiable, I tell you!!! NON-NEGOTIABLE!
And I’m going to need a personal masseuse in my dressing room. . .
And a heavy bag for when Joy gets on my nerves. . .
Distractions, Differences and PINK
I’ve been keeping myself very busy this week. Busy means I don’t have time to feel sorry for myself and think about the pain.
I took Big I school shopping. I bought the girls extremely pink shoes. Correction. I bought one pair of sensible school shoes for Big I and one pair of very pink sneakers for Lil C. (My Mom bought the second pair of very pink shoes for Big I. I can not claim responsibility for any blinding that at least the one pair of shoes may cause.)
When Big I was this age (approaching two), it was an all out struggle to take her shoe shopping. She screamed bloody murder when the shoe lady tried to measure her feet. She refused to allow anyone to touch her ankle to facilitate putting a shoe on her foot. She kicked her feet rapid fire if she didn’t like the shoe that was put on her foot (and even rebelled strongly against some she did like). It was a complete and total nightmare. I always left the shoe store in a sweat with a headache.
When I asked Lil C if she wanted to get new shoes, she stood up, smiled, reached up for me and said "Hold her. Yes." I took her sandals off in the store and the lady measured her foot while she stood there like an angel grinning ear to ear. Then it was time to decide on the shoes.
While I gravitated towards the sensible white sneakers and the little black mary jane’s, Lil C had something else on her mind: "PANK!" (Pink for those of you who don’t know toddlerease.) And when I ignored the first request for the practically fluorescent pink shoes, "PANK ON NOW!" she told me.
The lady brought out the black mary jane’s and put them on her first. I oohed and aahed about the pretty bow on the shoes and how cute she looked.
"Shoe Off" she said. "Pank on."
So the pink went on. She sat there smiling as the lady tied her shoelaces. She wiggled her little feet and giggled before she said, "Pitty (Pretty). Cool. Pank." She got down off the seat and ran around the store in absolute heaven.
"Well, she does have a lot of pink clothing," I said to my Mom. "And she can wear white, denim. . . and oh well. If she likes them." I asked Lil C if she wanted to get them.
"Get them," she said with a huge grin "O.K." she exclaimed as she nodded her head "yes." I made her day and she made me spend the rest of mine moving all her pink clothing to the top of the dresser drawers. Since we brought those very bright sneakers home a few days ago, Lil C has insisted on wearing them from the moment she wakes up until she goes to bed. She has even napped in them. I can relate to liking my shoes too, but she’s got a love affair with those pink shoes that’s going to be nothing short of heartbreaking when she can’t fit in them anymore. I’m dreading that day already.
One day I’m not dreading is the day I can get back in my gi. I watched karate class this week. Watched. Take a moment here to feel the emphasis of that word: watched.
Big I went out on the floor and did her thing and I sat there. It almost drove me insane as the class went through all of the waza’s as I sat there just taking it all in. Watching is great if you’re a spectator or a cheerleader. I am neither of those things. When it comes to learning, I learn best by doing. Since doing is not an option right now, it was definitely a sad challenge to sit there and not participate. I spent most of the class observing Big I since during class I’m usually concentrating on myself. That part was nice, but it’s just not the same as being out on the floor. Enough on that topic unless you want Depressed BBM back. I’m guessing not, so moving right along. . .
I spent the afternoon today taking Lil C to her first movie. The girls, my Mom and I saw Ratatouille and it was really cute. Lil C was in absolute awe of the big screen and the "mouse." It didn’t matter how many times I whispered to her that it was a "rat." In the shots where the rats looked small they were "mice" and in the shots where the rats took up most of the screen, they were then "cats."
I didn’t know how she would behave. When I took Big I to see Finding Nemo around this age, she spent the last 20 minutes of the movie pretending she was an airplane landing on the narrow strip that was the side aisle. It was a bit distracting.
Lil C sat on my lap the entire time, occasionally eating a piece of popcorn or candy, but mostly just taking it all in and enjoying it immensely. It was a nice afternoon out with the girls.
And now, what you’re all waiting for. . . Neck Watch July 2007. I had my appointment with the massage therapist late this afternoon. When it hurt, I told her it did. She said that she had to really go at the messed up shoulder area because there are adhesions there that need to pretty much be attacked so they go away. Those are not her exact words. I was too busy flinching and trying not to scream to get the exact words. She told me I’ll hate her tomorrow but love her next week. We’ll have to just see about that.
Most of the massage time was great. She really worked on my neck and shoulders and upper back and my range of motion right now is so much better than it was prior. I know I’ll probably wake up tomorrow all locked up again, but for right now, I am pleased with the result. I have another appointment with her and the chiropractor next week.
Today marks one week from the initial injury. I’m hoping I only have to watch class for another two weeks. Only time will tell. In the meantime, I picked up a copy of "Karate-Do My Way of Life" by Gichin Funakoshi and am enjoying it so far. If you have any other suggestions for reading materials while I convalesce, I’m open to suggestions.
Just please don’t recommend a book that has a pink cover. My eyes (and the rest of my body for that matter) have suffered enough strain this week.
Prognosis
I got up this morning and called the physical therapy place recommended by the doctor I saw Saturday. They were super unorganized and couldn’t offer me an appointment until next Monday at the earliest. No thank you.
So, I called a chiropractor that I heard good things about and saw him tonight. He did some gentle adjustments to my neck and upper back. Then I had ultrasound therapy and stims. I’m going back tomorrow for more of the same and then at the end of the week I’m seeing the massage therapist.
I’m hoping that this massage therapist will be nice and gentle. A few years ago I hurt my back doing a combination of elliptical training and beach volleyball. I saw a chiropractor in New Jersey who had a massage therapist on staff. She was a Russian woman and after the first massage with her, I always got worried when the chiropractor would tell me to go in and see her again. She used to dig her elbows into my back saying "You’re so tight" over and over again. It was agony and literally brought tears to my eyes. I’m hoping this massage therapist won’t be so painful.
I asked the chiropractor how long I’m going to be out of commission regarding karate. He told me it will be a minimum of three weeks if I do everything he tells me to do. A more realistic estimate is about six to eight weeks. He said my muscles and ligaments are all ripped up and that any little jolt can rip things up worse. So I’m relegated to the sidelines for a while.
I figure at the latest, I’ll be back to karate by the end of September. That will still give me about five months to continue training for black belt testing. I’m just really ticked off that I’m losing any time at all. I really felt like I was getting somewhere with kata and bunkai.
I’m also upset that I missed two days of being around such great martial arts minds at the training camp. It’s not everyday that you get to converse with Kyoshi Bill Hayes. If you ever get a chance to meet and/or train with him, don’t miss that opportunity. He’s simply amazing.
I guess I’ll take this time to read some good books, and do some mental kata since that’s the only kind of kata I’m allowed to do for now. You can start feeling sorry for me any time now, because I’m definitely feeling pretty sorry for myself.
Extra, extra: Get your apologies. . .
Yesterday I went to the grocery store with the girls. When I left I was completely disgusted with myself. A woman cut me off in the produce department and I said "Sorry." I immediately stopped and considered making myself drop and do some push-ups. What the hell did I say that for? She cut me off, not the other way around. I began having an internal dialogue with myself about how ridiculous it is that I say "sorry" all the time.
In the next aisle, I walked in front of someone who was scanning the shelves for crackers. I said, "Excuse me" which is all that was really necessary. But just for good measure, I added a "sorry" on the end of that little courtesy. I was taken aback by myself. Why did I just apologize to that woman? I said "excuse me." What exactly did I need to apologize for? Nothing!!!
I made it through several more aisles without an apology. I was super conscious of it and a little bit shocked as to how much a part of my regular vocabulary that word has become (or maybe has always been).
In the ice cream aisle, I was blocking a woman and her cart. Instead of just moving out of her way, I said "sorry." I felt like smacking myself. I didn’t need to apologize. A simple "excuse us" would have done the trick, but there I was apologizing again!
When I left the store I had said "sorry" at least five times and exactly 0 of those apologizes were warranted. I had a conversation with my Mom on the phone about it and I told her that we really need to both stop saying "sorry" so much. My Mom does it ALL THE TIME too, which is probably where I get it from. My Mom agreed, saying that someone once told her that saying "sorry" when there’s nothing to be sorry for makes you appear weak. (I think some of my very wise readers said the very same thing just last week).
So today, my Mom and I took the girls shopping. We are walking through the mall when two young men, probably in their early 20’s, stepped back from a kiosk in the middle of the mall and one of them literally barreled into my Mom. And do you know what she did?????
She said "sorry." The two guys did not apologize. They didn’t say "excuse me" and they didn’t say "sorry". In fact, the guy didn’t even acknowledge that he had just plowed into my Mom.
I muttered a sarcastic "NICE" underneath my breath, (I’m trying to keep my public confrontations down to about once a month in front of the girls and I’ve already reached my quota for July) when what I really wanted to do was kick the back of his knee and say nothing the way he had done as he hit the floor. I didn’t. I stared angrily at the back of his fat head and walked on. Later, in the car, my Mom and I were talking about how ridiculous it was that SHE apologized to HIM. It was absurd, but that word just seems to pop out of me and my Mom like a reflex.
Now, more than ever, I am thinking that this whole "sorry" business is definitely a female thing; and I am making a conscious effort to not be so damn sorry all the time, both in and out of the dojo. It may be a female thing, but it doesn’t have to have a permanent place in my vocabulary. There’s certainly a time and a place for "sorry" but the unnecessary times and places definitely need to go.
So, what do you think? Is it mostly a female thing? If so, why do we do THAT???
My Education qualified me to do WHAT???
Thirteen years of school, Kindergarten through 12th grade.
Four years of college to attain Bachelor of Arts degree.
Twelve months of double graduate credits to earn Masters degree in one year.
So how on earth did I become a maid/short order cook/full time babysitter extraordinaire?
Don’t get me wrong. I love being at home with my girls and I love having kids. It’s just that there are some days when I feel like my time would be better spent banging my head against a wall.
Take today for example. This morning, during a rare moment where the girls were actually getting along, I was able to clean the kitchen and mop the floor. Thirty minutes later, Lil C came into the kitchen, opened the pantry closet, dumped a box of pop-tarts onto the floor, stepped on the one open foil pack smooshing it into the floor, before deciding that she’d rather have a cracker anyway. At least 40% of said cracker then ended up on the floor in about 4000 little crumbs. I got out the broom again.
Dry crumbs are no big deal, but after we returned from the grocery store today she insisted on having "razz-da’s" (raspberries) as a snack. She sat in her chair, eating her raspberries contentedly, right up until she decided it would be much more fun to chew one partially up and them whip it onto the floor. Since that poor little raspberry was all alone, it was only right that the bowl of raspberries followed the lone chewed up one onto the floor, spraying raspberry juice across my only temporarily clean kitchen floor in an instant.
Since "razzda’s" and "cwackers" are the nouveau thing to eat for dinner, Lil C then had an all out 35 minute long tantrum because I wanted her to sit in her chair and eat her chicken pot pie at dinner time. T H I R T Y – F I V E mind-blowingly-long headache-inducing minutes of nothing but screaming and streams of tears and snot. It was fabulous. Did I mention that I was trying to eat during this little incident?
The good thing is that Big I found the whole ordeal quite amusing, so at least one kid was content. I think that Lil C’s schedule is just all messed up right now. For the past three weeks, Big I has been having play/musical rehearsal every Monday through Thursday nights from at least 6-9 p.m., sometimes 5-9:30 p.m. This past week, she also had performances on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. We’ve all been busy, exhausted and lacking our usual schedules.
This week is officially all about getting Lil C back on a schedule. Then again, on Friday I will start my three day karate training camp, so if all the kinks aren’t worked out yet. . . oh well. Mr. BBM won’t mind one bit, I’m sure, especially since tonight he is away on business and I have a hot date planned for myself with a Season 2 DVD of 24 and some yummy snacks. . .
And now Lil C is awake and screaming, after being asleep for only an hour. . .
So much for that.
Point my head to the nearest wall please.
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