Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Redemption of Sister Zoe: A List of Virtues

Hey ya’ll!

It’s been a while, huh?

To be honest, I shied away a bit after telling you all my deep dark secrets. Unfortunately, as I suspected, I horrified most of my family, and even some friends--whatever, guys, I was just tellin’ it like it is. This isn’t a post about my sexual escapades with Nickelodeon characters though…but before I get on to my main point (I sort of have one), here is a brief* list of some things about me that will hopefully serve to counteract the image of a drunk prostitute that I so vividly painted for you last time.

  • I am going to school to be a midwife (this does not mean I will be delivering babies in the fields of South America with a pot of hot water and some torn up bed sheets. Somehow many people are still unclear on what midwifery is. Sigh. Sorry, I’m not trying to start this list off all judgy)


  • In the mean time I am getting my birth doula certification, which means I will be providing labor support (emotional, physical, what have you) to women and their partners (I really do hate that saying “partners” makes it sound like I’ll be working exclusively with gay couples… not that there is anything wrong with that… but you feel me).


  • I’m a nanny! I know, I know, you’re thinking, “But you drop so much prescription medication on the floor!” I do…but somehow I am very good with babies. I looooove babies. So when not chain-smoking and being curmudgeonly, I walk around the city with the cutest little fellow strapped to my chest. Just thinking about it makes me miss his sweet little round head!


  • This is not that fellow. This is my friend Phoebe's daughter. And despite her best efforts I didn't let her have any beer.
  • Errr lets see. Wholesome qualities... I’ve never really stolen anything. When I was 11 or so my friend and I took two peaches from an outdoor fruit market. We felt so bad that we wandered for an hour trying to find a homeless person to give them to (you know, to make up for the awfulness of our ways), but with no success we returned to the market, confessed, and paid the 65 cents for our peaches.


  • When I was little, I felt so strongly that all of my stuffed animals had feelings, that I brought all of them (two garbage bags full, no lie.) on our summer vacation because I didn't want anyone to feel left out. There was also a rotating schedule of who got to be my main sleeping companion (sort of like now… KIDDDING!) Written out, this better illustrates my childhood OCD tendencies than my wholesomeness.


  • Despite my slightly irrational childhood fear of vomit, I have traveled--traveled--to help friends deal with unfortunate vomit dilemmas on more than one occasion (four). I developed a reputation for being good at this. I know--how the fuck does one do that, right? Well, when I was 14 and throwing my first house party, someone vomited in my bathroom sink (aim for toilets kids!). After some hard work with rubber gloves a plastic cup, fast forward six months and I was being called to clean steak fajitas out of a bathtub, Jager out of a washing machine, you name it! If I’m really trying to illustrate my humanitarianism, I once found an unconscious college kid sprawled out in front of my apartment and scooped vomit out of his mouth to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation.


  • That last one just felt obnoxious. I wanted to say bombastic, but that’s not really right, and also, tell me who can use that word without thinking I’m Boombastic say me fantastic…she touch me on my butt say I’m Mr. BOOM! But I digress…

  • I am also excessively nice to people in customer service positions. I only fly into screaming rages at Julie, Amtrak’s automated agent. I feel bad that cab drivers have to drive me places, and that waiters have to bring me food. When cashiers in training fuck up every transaction and have to call their managers, I feel bad for them because I know that everyone on line is plotting their death (Admittedly, my first thought is the detailed plotting of their death, but then I feel bad for them, does that still count?). I also yell at racists, and I immediately apologize to cats when I feel I’ve been mean to them. I guess you could say I’m sort of like mother Theresa.


  • * NEVER believe me when I promise to be brief. I am pretty much incapable of this.

    Yesterday my brother-in-law accused me (lovingly) of being “so full of hate”, and suggested that I share it with the world through blogging. Well I disagree, Jeffrey, I am clearly full of love and buckets of guilt.

    Now that we’re all clear on how charmingly multifaceted I am, to my main point: MY SISTER IS HAVING A BABY. Like for real she is, no joke, have you noticed? Every time I see her, that little belly has grown, so I KNOW this is for real, guys. I know this is common knowledge, but there is a person living inside of her. Can you believe it?

    I am head over heels in love with him already. He was being a tad withholding and wouldn’t kick for me for weeks, so we had a moment of beef, but then he did and now we’re biffles. I have so much to say on this but I took up the whole post talking about how great I am. My bad. There will be many Beh Beh Z/aunthood related posts in the near future, cause this baby is only gonna get bigger and the weather is only gonna get hotter, and my sister will need to spend a lot of time eating ice cream sandwiches and napping in front of a fan. But for now I’ll just say that the time I used to spend watching reruns of Real Housewives and eating cereal straight from the box is now spent watching reruns of Real Housewives and embroidering tiny pastel things. Turns out I have no embroidery skills, but the kid can’t turn out lookin’ crazier than this, right?

    1) We lived in Texas, and 2) as far as I know I wasn’t born a Guatemalan boy, so I’d like an explanation for this outfit, mom. 
    Also, don’t worry, Una, I’m not actually attempting to make your child clothing. I once hemmed a skirt with a stapler.
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    10 comments :

    1. OMG I love Zoe. I mean, everyone already knew that. She IS like Mother Theresa. She also is NEVER brief. She's so self aware! And now I just wanna throw up so she'll clean it up. I'ma throw up in the sink, Zoe! Now that I know how adept you are at vomit clean-up patrol..I promise I'll help, though. After you resuscitate me, that is.

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    2. baby z is gonna have a blast.

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    3. You really do need to blog. But then again, if you upstage Una, she might sick her spawn on you... so yeah... maybe you should just stick to guest posts for a while.

      Anyway, I am glad to have met another person on this planet who is incapable of stealing. Nobody ever believes that I haven't ever stole anything(except from work—but duh).

      And also, I was extremely concerned for my stuffed animals and did the rotation thing, too. One time I got mad at my mommy and threw "Bunny" against the wall before storming out of the room. I immediately marched back in and apologized for nearly an hour. To be honest, I was also slightly afraid he would kill me in my sleep, but still: concerned!

      <3 u, great post!

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    4. I like all of this. Your proficiency with vomit really is remarkable and will be of good assistance to Una in the coming years. Not that I'm suggesting she or Jeff are not skilled vomit handlers but it's always good to have someone on deck, if need be.

      I stole. A lot. I was slightly kleptomanic as an adolescent so anyone who was judging your deep dark secret post? Can judge my thief-y ways. I am reformed now though. Just in case anyone is wondering.

      The last bit about the poor Guatemalan-ish clad female child in the heart of Texas?

      Bombastic.

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    5. Oh Zoe, were we just lonely, sorrowful children with the stuffed animal thing? I used to feel sorry for FOOD I threw away when I was little...I felt sorry for everythng/everyone...also have the vomit phobia, but haven't worked that one out yet...it's only a people vomit phobia tho...I'm fine with my doggys cookie tossing! I once went to a store when I was ten years old with 8 friends who all stole candy bars but me. We ran into the bathroom stall and they ripped the wrappers off and gobbled them up, laughing. I was laughing too but I didn't know why...I didn't even have any candy...how pathetic is that? Fill in any time Aunty Z...oh, tell Una and the baby hey...:)

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    6. It truly is a gift to be able to deal efficiently with stranger vomit. All your other positive attributes are true assests as well. Hell, if you don't toot your own horn, who will?
      I think it's a great compliment to your mother that you share her passion for the world of birthing babies. You can tell her that too.
      I just hope you and your sister have developed a slightly different flair for dressing children:). Don't tell her that though, ok?

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    7. Kudos on the vomit tolerance. I too had an irrational childhood fear of vomit and sadly at the old age of 34....still there. Emetophobia rocks! (I bet ya didn't know it had a name) :)

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    8. Anonymous1:18 AM

      I've been away for awhile. Clearly Zoe still hasn't created an annonymous blog. Check out this website http://wordsmith.org/anagram/ for help in finding an Anagram. Very entertaining. And just think, before the internet Jim Morrison had to come up with Mr. Mo Jo Risin' all by himself!

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    9. Anonymous7:21 PM

      Does it count that I'm an expert at cleaning dog vomit out of rugs? I once had a dog who vomited every morning before breakfast. It took me years to find out she had empty-tummy morning sickness and would be fine if I just fed her a snack in the middle of the night. But in the mean time I learned excellent vomit removal techniques--a crucial life skill.

      My own adventures in vomiting involved an impossibly low tolerance for alcohol, discovered in high school, when two glasses of wine or one mixed drink consumed a little too quickly would make me hurl. I think I must have lost a lot of friends throwing up in (and thus clogging) their sinks before I discovered the toilet was the proper receptacle for this unsavory activity.

      No shoplifting in my life history, but I have to admit to knowingly accepting shoplifted gifts of record albums (this was back in the 1970's) from the chubby boy down the street who had a crush on me in middle school. I suspect this was morally and ethically much worse than having done the shoplifting myself, and I shudder to think of the guilt I would now be living with had he ever been caught and charged. Of course, I really should feel morally responsible for encouraging his criminal behavior regardless of the legal outcome, but I have a hard time generating much guilt over that.

      Please note that despite trying to highlight your personal and civic virtues to counteract your last post, all that your readers focus on in the comments are vomit and shoplifting. You have to admit we have our priorities straight.

      Loved your post. You definitely need your own blog, either pseudonymous or not. It would be so much fun to read you and Una in tandem.

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    10. brilliant post! more zoe please...perhaps your own blog.

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