Posts Tagged ‘emily is wrong’

Swim Teams: Round Two

August 7, 2009

I blogged last summer about how much I hate swim teams. Once I moved to Ohio, I totally forgot about them. Nobody swims in Ohio. I mean, how are you going to make room for a swimming pool amongst all that corn? But yesterday, on a typical afternoon frozen yogurt, the feelings flooded back: I REALLY REALLY HATE SWIM TEAMS.

There was a caravan of delightfully decorated SUVs (because you can’t transport one soggy, wet 5-year-old in anything that gets more than 4 miles to the gallon) heading through Lafayette. When I say “delightful”, I mean STUPID. SO STUPID.

You can totally tell what these moms are thinking. Those giant shark fins are totally compensation for everything they lack. The mom with the biggest foam fin is totally the mom with the smallest dick. And you’ve got to love the window paint.

“Go Tommy! Swim fast! Your success will fill mommy with all the meaning that breast implants could not!”
“Go Tommy, win! Then, remember you have baseball practice after this and then Boy Scouts tonight! Remember not to eat, only skinny boys can WIN!”

I know I’m wrong. I was wrong last summer and I’m wrong again. But I really really fucking hate swim teams. They represent everything I hate about Lamorinda.

Just kidding. Swim teams are okay, I guess. Whatever. I’d be fine with it if they TOOK THOSE FUCKING FINS OFF THEIR CARS. And kept their drippy babies away from me.

Team Spirit, Moraga-Style

August 12, 2008

For the past week, there’s really only one thing I can remember that struck me as incredibly obnoxious.

SWIM TEAMS. Actually, not the teams, or the swimmers. Their cars.

The fucking obscene amount of SUVs, painted with flashy motivational messages. God damn. As if driving weren’t annoying enough, now I have to read “GO ROBBIE! SWIM FAST! WE LUUUUV YOU!” on the back of every fucking car I’m stuck behind at a red light.

This shouldn’t annoy me so much. Really. I get it, it’s team spirit. Little kids do swim team, and they are all so excited for the big meet. I understand; I feel that. I was bitching to my boyfriend (who swam until he was 15) about this, and he informed me that it’s not supposed to be annoying, the children are showing team spirit and the parents are showing their pride in their children. And it makes sense.

BUT THOSE CARS ANNOY THE HELL OUT OF ME ANYWAY. There, I said it.

When I see all those decked-out cars, I don’t see spirit, I see Moraga moms at their best. Moraga moms, as a stereotype, are notorious for putting extreme amounts of pressure on their kid to be better than everyone else’s kid. There are exceptions (lots, actually!) but some of them are just ridiculous.

Let me do some Moragian -> English translation.

If someone’s rear window reads “Go, Jack, go! Swim fast! We love you!”, they really mean any of the following:

“Go, Jack! Swim to earn mommy’s love!”

“Go, Jack! Swim for mommy’s reputation!”

“Go, Jack! If you win, maybe tonight mommy won’t iron your face!”

“Go, Jack! Swim fast! And if all else fails, drown the opponent!”

Okay, okay. Maybe I’m wrong.

(I’m wrong.)

BUT I DON’T CARE. This is the vibe I get from these car messages. So to me, they don’t say “We love you!”, they say “We love you IF YOU WIN!”

And the funny thing is, no matter how wrong I am about swim teams and swim moms and Moraga, I can still try to indoctrinate you with my opinions because this is the internet. Thank god for that.

And, whoever put all those pink pirhanna pictures up, they’re cute and all, but not on every vertical surface in town. Please, as soon as you can be bothered, take them the fuck down. Thank you.

I swear, when I have children, they’re doing swim team. And they WILL like it. And when the big meet rolls around, I will write hilarious things on my windows. Ahh, the power of force.

P.S. I think swimmers are fantastic. They’re muscley and in shape and must be very dedicated to get up at 5 am for practice. These are all qualities I admire. Maybe Moraga moms should start painting pictures of their kid’s six-pack on their cars. This, to me, would be much more pleasant.

HGTV is wrong.

July 19, 2008

I have an irrational hatred for HGTV. Mostly just the design shows. My mom watches them almost nonstop, so I’ve seen my fair share. They’re all the same. They’ve all got the couple, mid-thirties, looking for that perfect home to complete their perfect life together. They’ve all got the designers, trying so hard to out-funny all the other designers by monkeying around in front of the camera. They’ve all got the same fake reaction in the end:

1. Mouth gaping; look around.

2. Hands over mouth.

3. “OHH-MY-GODDDDD!” or “WOOOOOOW!”

But this isn’t my problem with design shows. My problem is the content. I watch people so desperately trying to create the perfect space for themselves- no, they aren’t even doing the creating. They’re desperate to have the perfect space created for them. Why? All I see when I watch these shows are people unhappy with their lives who try to fix it with furniture. I can see what’s going on in these people’s heads. “If I find the perfect chair to match my living room, it will make the room beautiful, which will subsequently fill my life with unrelenting joy and happiness.”

A new coat of paint won’t fix a broken household, a broken family, or a broken life. The perfect chair will not bring you happiness, because eventually, the chair will become dirty and you’ll cease to see the beauty in it. Then you’ll need another perfect chair to replace your shitty old perfect chair. Or, weeks into perfect chair ownership, you’ll realize that your chair isn’t the perfect chair, because the REAL perfect chair is sitting on display in the Pier 1 across town.

Isn’t a beautiful, happy life what everyone really wants? Do they think finding the perfect window treatment is going to make their home beautiful? I believe that people bring beauty to the home; it’s the way you live, the experiences, the memories. I don’t remember the texture of the couch I sat on during a heart-to-heart with my best friend. I don’t remember the color or material of the counter tops on which I sliced onions while cooking for my boyfriend at midnight. And I don’t give a shit. I could have been cutting onions on the ugliest rubber ducky-patterned Formica, and it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

My point is, I suppose, that a house with perfect furniture and the perfect design is still just a house. Stellar design doesn’t make it a home- you do. I think it’s important for a home to reflect the way you live, but you can’t see the beauty unless you actually live it.

HGTV doesn’t care about my opinions. They shouldn’t. They’re making good money selling crap to people, and I applaud that. But I still have the unrelenting desire to shove my opinions down their throats.

Since that’s hard to do, I’ll just shove my opinion down YOUR throat. I feel better already.

God, I love the internet.