Mothers of Apathy: Who’s with me?

I don’t know how to break this to you; to my husband; to anyone. Thus, being the deeply private person that I am, I’ve decided to make this minor public announcement.

My recent addiction to the amazing FX television show “Sons of Anarchy” has plunged me back into the depths of a long-held desire to get multiple tattoos, a studded leather jacket and ride off into the sunset while shooting a Glock 9 mm straight into the air. I have found her: My secret, inner tough chick.

I’ve decided I should dye my hair dark brown and add crazy chunky stripes (like Katey Sagal) and add inch long, bright red tips to my nails. And I’ll wear form-fitting jeans with long, ultra-high-heeled, black boots and run with a wild crowd. And I’ll look good while doing it.

I’ll get into fights. Fist fights. And I’ll come up with new and unique ways to use the f-word in every sentence. I’ll even use it as an adverb. Oh, don’t push me—I’ll do it.

I’ll play pool in a secret clubhouse with all my closest girlfriends, who will also cuss and wear leather and ride motorcycles and listen to hardcore music. We’ll all be super tough, riding freely late into the night, never telling anyone where we’re going and nobody would ever bug us about it. That’s how tough we’d be. We’ll form our own gang called the “Mothers of Apathy” and we’ll wear matching jackets. WHO’S WITH ME?

We’ll stay out late watching R-rated movies then go to motorcycle bars to drink whiskey… all on school nights.

We’ll leave dirty laundry out…even when guests come over.

We’ll have dishes in the sink… ALL THE TIME. Dirty, filthy dishes. And we won’t care.

…I mean, maybe we’ll care a little bit if someone drops in unannounced. We’d probably have to keep them in the living room, away from the kitchen and laundry messes.

And maybe instead of Jack Daniels we can have wine? Preferably a nice Pinot Noir; and not stay out too late on school nights because I am useless after 10:00 and anyway, when else would I have time to pack the kids’ school lunches?

Also, how about instead of skinny jeans and boots we go with sweatpants? Sweatpants can be tough looking. Especially if you wear your hair in a pony tail, tucked into a ballcap. Bonus: Think of all the time we’d have to bake cupcakes if we’re not wasting it getting our hair and nails done?

Just so we’re clear, my inner tough chick has been released, but nix the whiskey, late nights, tight jeans, high boots, tattoos (ouch) fist fights (double ouch), and motorcycles (dangerous!). But don’t worry: I’m still good with the f-word.

Just not in front of my kids.

Sons of Anarchy, my new BFFs

Hooray for television, for this divine mechanism has introduced me to my latest group of favorite people: the characters of Sons of Anarchy. Every. Single. One of them.

For those living under a rock or in some third-world, non-English speaking country, or both (much like myself), Sons of Anarchy is a TV series on FX about the life and culture of a gun-running motorcycle club. Think of it as a highly-tattooed, stoned and leathered-up version of The Sopranos based in California's Central Valley, and thus, much more awesome.

I'd just overdosed on food channel programs when I heard about the show through a friend. The first season on DVD was a gamble of a gift for my Valentine. And while I found the pilot ever-so slightly forced, the character-driven show had me hooked almost immediately.

Ron Perlman, of Hellboy fame, and Katey Sagal (think: Helen on Lost and Peg on Married with Children) play the patriarch and matriarch of the multi-state gang based in the adorably fictional town of Charming (Oakdale or Escalon… only smaller).

If you find yourself missing your dapper, alcoholic Mad Men and your methed-out Breaking Bad buddies, hit Netflix up and fill your queue with the first TWO seasons, available on DVD.

It’s a crazy enjoyable ride.