<p>^^^ that’d be me-- I have a ten year old. Mine’s an asymmertical haircut/ indie/skater/punk. At least this week. Someties he’s an all-black-clad ninja, and once in a while he’s a sweet little cuddle bunny.</p>
<p>Son turned 21 last weekend and went drinking with two buddies with the same birthday. I sent him an email the next day, “Still alive?”. His answer in full, “Yes.” So chatty, these boys! </p>
<p>We got more details this weekend when he (voluntarily!) came up for dinner. (Well, he also wanted to go printer shopping with Dad . . . and pick up a check to cover the rent and textbooks . . .but he did make plans to be here for dinner.) </p>
<p>We asked about the drinking evening. "Oh, I had a Guinness, and a screwdriver, and an Irish Car Bomb, and . . " “A WHAT?” “Well, it’s Guinness and Irish cream and something else in a shot glass.” </p>
<p>I looked it up and it’s as revolting as it sounds: </p>
<p>3/4 pint Guinness® stout
1/2 shot Bailey’s® Irish cream
1/2 shot Jameson® Irish whiskey</p>
<p>Add the Bailey’s and Jameson to a shot glass, layering the Bailey’s on the bottom. Pour the Guinness into a pint glass or beer mug 3/4 of the way full and let settle. Drop the shot glass into the Guinness and chug. If you don’t drink it fast enough it will curdle and increasingly taste worse.</p>
<p>This is the actual recipe. Don’t you love a recipe that says “If you don’t drink it fast enough it will curdle and increasingly taste worse.”?</p>
<p>I think mythmom has come up with a new closet fantasy here in CC…getting her “bow rehaired”??? Ooooh, that sounds so naughty.</p>
<p>We vacationed in Nuevo Vallarta last week to celebrate my late 40ish b-day. Did one of the typical tourist tours, which included a stop at a Tequila distillery, where we got detailed instruction (and practice) on the correct way to do Tequila shots…breathe in the flavor (a la wine tasting). Inhale, down the shot, exhale THROUGH YOUR NOSE. (don’t open your mouth–by not getting air in immediately, it lessens the “burn”) and let it “warm” your belly. And avoid Jose Cuervo at all costs!!! Although I must admit that H got his own samples to practice with, as well as mine. Needless to say, the Tequila distillery was his favorite part of the tour 
I prefer the virtual spirits here in SA.</p>
<p>Thank you to NYMom for her compliments re: my dear son’s tattoo</p>
<p>Any other tattoo stories? In my son’s high school peer group there was n Tasmian Devil tatttoed on a thigh, a Shamrock on the hip, many family crests</p>
<p>No tatoos but my son used to gag when he saw the kids at Whole Foods behind the deli counter who had eyebrow piercings. So I am hoping we are safe.</p>
<p>Also Catholic high schools don’t tend to encourage tatoos…Although the one in Gaelic they might have gone for?</p>
<p>Sybbie I just have to ask. Does your D own a pair of Tory Burch ballet slippers? If yes then she truly is my East Coast D…</p>
<p>Another friend’s son came home after a couple of months at college with a crucifix tattooed on his back–his dad tells me his reaction to his son was—“My goodness Dave, Jesus Christ himself had a smaller cross on his back than you do!”</p>
<p>OK fellow sinners – this is IT – I really am changing my name. Should I go with </p>
<p>My<em>2</em>Cents </p>
<p>or </p>
<p>ID_Crisis?</p>
<p>Open that box wine and cast your vote!!!</p>
<p>One more idea:</p>
<p>LiveNLearn</p>
<p>I vote for My2Cents without the dashes. :)</p>
<p>Okay. B’day almost perfect day. We’re in hotel now. H also on his computer. Don’t you love togetherness?</p>
<p>We got to S’s campus at 1:00. Things ferried up and down the stairs (4 flights no elevator). Ready to proceed. Happy present opening. John Lennon covers sponsored by Amnesty Internation, proceeds to Darful, big hit, and we listened to 2 disc CD all day. DS starved (where does he put it? 130 lbs.) so we stop in Pittsfield for Indian buffet before we start on great trek to bow rehairing. DS does not know name of establishment; DS does not know address. S has just two salient details: Great Barrington and phone number.</p>
<p>We proceed. We drive toward Great Barrington, and all the while we can’t get elusive bow artist on phone. DS has made a 3:00 appointment, though it does seem odd. He get into Great Barrington vicinity and see miraculous sign: music store. S and H go into music store (three being an embarrassing crowd) and it is, of course, not the right place. But a new clue: guitar repairer at music store gives us the actual name of bow man. And sends us on our way because “directions are too difficult to give.” I send H back in to humbly reapply, since phantom luthier still does not answer phone.</p>
<p>H comes back with detailed directions that “may not be right” according to guitar girl. But I am sanguine. We follow the directions, and improvise a bit, and we wander high into the mountains. We see very skinny cows and very grimy sheep and follow guitar girl’s trail, and when the trail goes cold two elderly joggers send us to Pumpkin Hollow Road, our destination (I kid you not.)</p>
<p>We see sign on mailbox. A correct name! We walk the trail to the distant house (H sits in car – three’s a crowd), and we see … drawing of violin. Oh Nellie, this must be the place. We gingerly open the door. A stern woman greets us, scowling, “You’re late.” But calls her artist/master who CAN fix bow, but with $15.00 premium for rush job, though he seems to have no other work. Okay, we say, mail the bow. $25.00 premium. “Okay,” I say, we’ll come pick it up tomorrow. Uh oh, still rush premium. So I cave.</p>
<p>We got to Stockbridge to have dinner at the Red Lion Inn, a place we took the kids when they were little. DS remembers sitting on the lions and we took a picture that is still in his mind. We have lovely dinner, and as we emerge a beautiful little boy is sitting on the lion. S smiles at him in an avuncular way. It’s amazing! All of a sudden, S is the next generation, an adult looking lovingly on a child. Oh wow.</p>
<p>Back into the glooming, the full moon low, large and orange against the navy sky. We climb past the sheep, past the cows, turning to find the house with the picture of the violin. Bow has been left on a bench with note: “Please leave check.” But we left requisite cash, and bow newly haired, nestled into violin case.</p>
<p>Back the hour through the rural countryside to drop of S to watch HOUSE with buddies and be feted to a party. He’s the baby. The last birthday, last week, entry mate turned 19.</p>
<p>So, S is doing very well. Courses, interesting. Friends, wonderful. Room, delightful. Entry, the best. And just to top off the day, D calls with news she has finally landed an internship that fits into her schedule, in the legal department of Lenox House in NYC.</p>
<p>Still, the back and forth is so strange. For a few hours it was if he hadn’t left, and now just H and I are here, burrowing into our new life.</p>
<p>Still, as birthdays go, it was stellar. Barkeep! Brandy all around for my friends.</p>
<p>no, no, no, Weenie. We already had the election-- voted and WEENIE WON! Why the change of heart? WE LOVE YOU WEENIE. We’ll be the ones having an ID crisis if you change your name. No, No, a thousand times no!!!</p>
<p>If you are going with a cents name, why not consider something that could be reduced to an 'iddy name ala Fiddy Cents. 'Siddy Cents? </p>
<p>Eiddy IDs?</p>
<p>No Sense?</p>
<p>Fiddy Weenies? </p>
<p>Talked to S1 today. On top of two demanding internships and his senior thesis, he’s fallen hard for “an intimidatingly beautiful woman”. Naturally. What is it? Week four? Uh huh.</p>
<p>“She’s WAY out of my league, mom.” </p>
<p>That kid has no idea what league he’s in.</p>
<p>Somehow I am stuck on the bow rehairing…in the deep weirdness of New England.</p>
<p>I’m with jmmom. In a pinch I could go with “TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsWeenie.”</p>
<p>Deep New England weirdness! So true!</p>
<p>Bow rehairing! Another hidden (or not so hidden) cost of the string player. <em>sigh</em> Our bow rehairer is an eccentric guy (now, there’s a surprise!). He has the MESSIEST house imaginable - and then he always looks at my son’s bow with utter contempt and disgust. Ha.</p>
<p>New name — no, I just can’t keep using this name now that my kids’ friends, my relative and neighbors are looking to me for help with college stuff (fools). They just don’t understand. But boy it’s hard to find an “unclaimed” name! I need to head to the name outlet!</p>
<p>hey mythmom,
Love your description of the trek into Great Barrington. One of my close friends from college grew up in Great Barrington and I am somewhat familiar with the roads/scenery. Alas, they were not related to the bow “rehairers.” Rather, think Jack’s Country Squire on the main drag in G.B. Glad to hear that S’s year has started so well!</p>
<p>yes, I’m with SBMom, something like “o/+~weenie”</p>
<p>How about: OnceWeenie or weenieNoMore. Really weenie, we love you and knowing it’s you. Where did weenie come from? are there any more similar names at the store?</p>
<p>Or tell friends/relatives/students wanting help that weenie was randomly assigned. Hehe.</p>
<p>I think all bow rehairers have that slightly disapproving look. This guy took one look at S’s bow and said chillingly, “Oh, there’s a crack. Didn’t you know your boy had a crack?” DS, who hadn’t even become 18 yet, hours to go, was properly ashamed, abashed, seeing $$$$ in his head for repair (though of course I was paying.) The passive aggressive/evil artist said, “I’ll need my better glasses,” and on they went. “Oh no,” he grudgingly relented, it’s just the way the pores of wood line up." To rescue disapproving air he added, "But I will have to do something (I couldn’t get it) to the frog for another whatever. S just nodded his head – his bow been to hell and back in the space of a minute.</p>
<p>Weenie,</p>
<p>I opt for “KnightsWhoSayNie.”</p>
<p>Is the issue that folks know you in the real world by your current SA Username?</p>
<p>^ No - the issue is that it is just a stupid name – and people with dirty minds LOL interpret it wrong, hehehe. (What does SA mean?)</p>
<p>Mythmom - I like that quote - “Didn’t you know your boy had a crack?” I don’t even want to think about the comebacks. (Now who has the toilet mind? But then again, I was a temporarily flummoxed by the thread entitled “Icky but.”)</p>
<p>Must admit I still giggle (on the inside now) when I hear or read “Uranus”…</p>
<p>p.s. Stick with Weenie.</p>