Wicked Opinion

What a Voice...

2012-01-21T06:44:00.000-08:00

R.I.P. Etta James

http://youtu.be/_1uunRdQ61M

Play Don't

2012-01-20T10:41:00.000-08:00

I was fascinated by Play Doh as a kid. The colors were so bright, the smell was appetizing, and firm yet squishable? Unmatched. It was just so cheerful and simple. So easy to shape and smoosh and stuff back into it's container. It seemed so easy-going and pliable and accepting of whatever I wanted.

Then I tried to blend it. I thought the only thing better than solid colored Play Doh would be multi-colored Play Doh. Or Play Doh in custom colors. And it would be awesome, except for one tiny problem.

Play Doh doesn't WANT to blend. It refuses to blend. It rejects your every blending attempt with scorn and a small, salty chuckle. It turns brown. It turns grey. It turns a brownish gray puke color. It becomes an unattractive, half-separated mass of swirly colors that don't turn out to look at all like what you thought they would. Sometimes, by, chance, it will suddenly agree to blend and looks fabulous for about a day. Then it will turn brownish gray. You will try to coerce Play Doh into being close by braiding it together. It will fall apart within hours. Attempts at adding water, heat, cold or food products result in further disaster. Play Doh has a default setting and that is Play Doh right out the can. Play Doh is the color it is and is not interested in changing for you. Play Doh doesn't care if it's cold, rigid attitude makes you sad. Play Doh does nothing wrong. That's just the way it is, after all. What are you so upset about?

This is what it's like to be married to the wrong person.

You ARE The Weakest Link....Goodbye.

2012-01-14T09:00:00.000-08:00

I used to watch The Biggest Loser. Every season. Then I noticed a funny thing happening. I started to feel annoyed. And disgusted. And TRICKED.

1) Isn't it supposed to be about a makeover? If that bitch who weighs MORE THAN ME has a sharp jawline already and hair that looks like a Pantene commercial and NO stretch marks (?!), what the hell am I watching for? How many fat women do you know who DON'T have double chins or thinning hair or skin colored tiger stripes all over? Not representative of a real obese woman AT ALL. FAIL, Biggest Casting Director Cheater. It's like watching a friggin' Lane Bryant ad come to life in sweatpants.

2) The ridiculous fact that they STILL insist on it being a co-ed show when men have the obvious and distinct biological advantage, not to mention many of those guys are a) former athletes and b) haven't had kids. A woman has to KILL HERSELF to even get close to the numbers the men are putting up there. And have you SEEN the female winners? They look like Jersey Shore vampires. I'd rather be pale and fat, thanks. When are they going to let the women duke it out alone? That would be some TV worth watching. Imagine the catty comments and fights while they're all bleeding together and not eating. Like Bad Girls' Club without the liquor and bikinis. Heh.

3) I don't know why I detest Allison Sweeney. There, I said it. I hate Sami. I know she's a soap actress and that's plenty of reason but that's not even it. I just ..UUUGH.. that American Girl Doll hair, and the piggy nose and the horrible line reading and the fake sympathy. She looks at these people like she was NEVER a chub and they are toads beneath her non-cankled feet and what the hell am I doing on this show oh yeah working sigh. You know homegirl is on a cigarette and Diet Coke diet and it kills her that she doesn't look like Mary Kate Olsen. Or Kelly Ripa. Ooooh, I bet she HATES Ripa. Who doesn't, really?

4) Let's get serious here. I know, BOO. Really, though..WHAT ABOUT FOOD?? I am boggled by the complete and utter disregard they have towards the relationship between what foods you eat (caloric intake) and obesity. They focus entirely on exercise - yes, exercise is important and it IS a component of weight loss but only because of the energy, confidence, and mood boost it brings, not to mention the other health benefits. BUT...You can exercise all day long but if you don't change your eating, the benefits will be short-lived (literally within hours) and you won't be addressing the real cause of the problem. The only time TBL shows or talks about food is either a Subway commercial (don't EVEN get me started on the crap that is in their breads and "meats" or how long their "fresh" produce hangs around) or they are blabbing on and on about the E-VILS of pizza and donuts and fried chicken. Those are not inherently BAD foods - they are bad if they, and a host of other crap including partially hydrogenated fats, HFCS, and most processed foods, constitutes your entire diet every single day. You can't just say "Put down that Twinkie and ye shall be thin". Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's a leetle more complicated than that.

I remember one episode where Bob invited everyone over for dinner and made them a seemingly delicious vegetarian meal. I don't mean to piss all over everyone's seitan and chick peas but these are reg-lah people, Bob. They don't have your money, your knowledge, your million dollar kitchen OR your free time. Not to mention a little thing called knowing how to cook. Who knows if Bob actually cooks for Bob anyway? And why is Bob suddenly in third person? Anyway, it's lovely to introduce new foods and new ways of thinking about foods, however, the reality of these people going home to spouses, children, jobs, etc is closer to 30 Minute Meals than Epicurious. I just wish they included simple cooking segments and things like how not to get stuck in a boneless chicken breast rut. (That sounded a lot dirtier than I meant it to. Sorry.)

I don't think The Biggest Loser does anyone who actually wants to lose weight any favors. The whole premise is misleading and at best, it's entertainment in the form of watching fat people fall down, cry and not eat. I can haz humilation on national television?

Jesus Killed My Gay Teen

2012-01-12T17:00:00.000-08:00

I've been getting embroiled in some discussions lately about religion and especially religion as it relates to social justice and politics. I personally do not believe that religion should have ANY place in social policies or in politics, in fact it offends me as an American that anyone's beliefs should be some kind of platform or shaming tool to manipulate others' emotions and consequently, votes, but there's that whole freedom of speech thing.....

So I've been wrestling with my thoughts recently after a blogger wrote that the Roman Catholic Church was directly responsible for the suicide of a gay teen in Ohio. He also went on to post that religion itself is complicit in all crimes against gay people. We know that the Roman Catholic Church has been responsible for many, many deaths and other atrocities in the past but to say something like that in 2011 is preposterous and just as dangerous as religious zealots sticking their hands in my uterus. You want to know who killed that boy? He did. You can feel sorry and sad and outraged by the bullying he received in the halls of his high school and it's so important that these incidences are reported and addressed but you cannot tell people to keep religion OUT of social policy decisions and then turn around and BLAME religion for a failure of social policy. That is the most illogical form of scapegoating. There was NO indication that this boy was the target of religion based bullying and in his own posts on the Internet, he makes no mention of religion AT ALL. He mentions cruelty, his peers and how it makes him feel. Nothing whatsoever about faith, religion or church. I suspect the family was the "Easter and Christmas" church going types.

The blogger also wrote that he found it repulsive that the boy's parent's chose to hold his funeral at a Catholic Church, which then prompted the statement about the church killing him. First of all, the funeral is for the LIVING. For the family and friends to have a place and time to grieve together and remember their loved one. Even if this boy regarded religion or Catholicism as the enemy, I doubt he would begrudge his parents the comfort they feel by holding his funeral wherever they chose. I'm honestly surprised and touched to know that this church agreed to it. Suicide is considered a very serious sin and a someone who commits a sin of this nature is often denied a Catholic service and burial. So it's interesting to note that it was the church, and therefore organized religion, who were open-minded and tolerant for once.

It's so easy to point fingers and assign blame. Especially in a tragedy like this that makes no sense to anyone except the person in so much pain they cannot continue living. It doesn't help gay teens or those in pain and torment to force upon them political agendas they never asked for. Stop hanging sandwich boards with your own message around the necks of those who can't stop you from doing so.

There Are Places I Remember.....

2012-01-12T07:24:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I'm not a Beatles fan at all. Which has gotten me into many a heated argument with fellow music geeks, let me tell you. Apparently that's against the LAW in the United States even though....uh, you know the Beatles are British, right? K. Well, I don't like Paul McCartney or John Lennon or Ringo Starr. I do quite like George, though.

It could just be from remembering that panned view of Providence, RI on that TV show that used the song as it's theme (what WAS the name of that show?) and getting all Elf about the buildings - I KNOW THAT BUILDING - and liking that show. Whose name escapes me. I could Google it but I don't really care that much. Do you?

But I do like selected bits and pieces and that song always brings out the sentimental sap in me. Some days I just get caught up in coulda- shouldas, has beens, past mistakes, past accomplishments, just plain past. I start going all Robert Frost with the 2 paths in the yellow wood. There were so many paths in my yellow wood - how do you know you chose the right one? Is it just a matter of optimism/fatalism where you shrug and say oh well, I did my best? Sometimes I think I can clearly see the direction where my life might have gone. But then it wriggles away into darkness like a dream you try to remember when you are fully awake. The more you try to see it, the more it slips away. Does everyone have days of regret for all you might have done? Days where you wonder if you should have stayed in that yellow wood thinking a little longer.

2012-01-06T08:52:00.000-08:00

Today one of my favorite bloggers...ok, FINE, the mother of all bloggers, Dooce - posted a song. It is a very short song called "Do What's Easy" by Chris Bathgate. I cannot decide if he is saying do what's easy and fuck everyone else or he is making a sarcastic remark on the down-trodden of the world or he's just depressed like me. Maybe all three in which case he's a genius?

It's rare nowadays that anything gets this much of a visceral response from me aside from every interaction with the Ex and oh, let's say every interaction with every other person in life, including myself. But really, the premise of this song, taken literally, puts my back up and my teeth on edge. Doing what's easy (and many times WRONG, selfish, unconscionable, unhealthy) has been not only my MO for a long time as someone living with untreated mental illness but it's also been the scourge I use to whip myself with. I demand a standard from myself that no one person could reach. And I'm smart enough to know I will never reach it so I give up immediately. But I'm NOT smart enough to stop hating myself for not reaching that standard. I do what's easy and that's never good enough. I've broken my own heart doing what's easy.

It's funny how for me, for a long time, doing what was easy was living up to the expectations of failure that have been following me around for decades. Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone. It would be easy to make a declaration that I won't do that anymore. Easy to keep doing nothing.

Somehow easy doesn't seem so easy anymore.

All of Us Under It's Spell

2011-12-31T09:35:00.000-08:00

I didn't grow up watching a lot of television. In our house, it was PBS and then only educational kid's shows. I've seen a lot of Sesame Street, yo. Not a bad thing, in restrospect. We were also allowed to watch The Muppet Show at night. I loved that show. Oh, the guest stars! I remember Blondie singing "Call Me" and Elton John in some crazy outfit and glasses.

I loved tolerant, patient Kermit, anxiety-ridden Scooter and Beaker, the zany Swedish Chef and Gonzo, who didn't care what anyone thought of him, the 2 old Critics in the balcony, Sam the Eagle who took himself too seriously, those silly mice and Animal the psychotic drummer. Even high maintenance, abrasive Miss Piggy. What a genius Jim Henson was to teach children about diversity and how to create a family in such a wonderful way.

This past Thanksgiving, we went to see the new Muppet movie. It was like seeing old friends and I could feel myself smiling like a fool at the screen. It was classic Muppets - sweet and silly with a gentle humor and a moral about knowing what's important - family. And how sometimes families can shift and change but that you can still love each other the same. Just as time can shift and change us all but we can keep safe that small, warm place we hold for our cherished memories of who we were. To never forget the child inside of us.

As the movie ended and Kermit started singing "The Rainbow Connection", a hush fell over the theater. Then slowly and softly, we were singing. In a darkened public theater with other gray-haired adults, we sang the song we all knew from when we were kids. All of us knew every word. All of us under it's spell. Voices joining in as the song went on. It was a poignant, moving moment I will never forget. In that moment, we were children again. Fearless and full of wonder.

Awesome or Asshole - Mutually Exclusive?

2011-12-08T12:25:00.000-08:00

Today is Diego Rivera's 125th birthday. (Thank you Google.) One of the greatest artists of the twentieth century, he was generally known to be a womanizer, a communist, an atheist and an all-around jerk. He was also obese and unattractive. At any time, these would certainly not be positive traits for any artist looking for work. But that did not seem to stop people from hiring him, even when he tried to sneak portraits of Lenin into murals and went around denouncing the existence of God. Not to mention his constant marital problems. Was his talent so great that his personality could be merely ignored? In that American era of moral uprightness, communist panic and before the civil rights movement, was there actually more of a societal blind eye? I wonder if we couldn't use more of that eye now when judging others' gifts and talents. Does it have to be a package deal of talent + nice for you to buy?

It seems to me that someone like Rivera in today's society would be shunned and ostracized by the general public, no matter his talent. We have become obsessed with "nice", placing our own restrictions of character on other people. We prize niceness and pleasantry over talent and industriousness. Does a person have to be either awesome or an asshole? Worthy or unworthy? Why can't we accept that someone who has a great talent doesn't have to automatically be a people person or even pleasant? Must everyone have the social skills of a politician? The short snippets of biographical information available online about Diego Rivera are heavily sanitized and skim over his "flaws", focusing instead on his murals and paintings. It is quite amusing to read these accounts - where the author is trying desperately to make you like him in spite of the information he must present to bulk up his article, because Rivera spent a lot of time making art and making trouble. A truly "nice" article would have one sentence. "Diego Rivera was a prominent Mexican painter who is famous for his murals". That doesn't tell us anything. How boring.

This attitude of placing too much value on "nice" is to our detriment as a modern society. We will never know all the hidden places in our fellow humans. If you insist on "nice" above all else, you miss out on the Picassos, the Elton Johns, the Hillary Clintons and the Rachael Rays of the world. If you insist on everyone meeting a standard of nice, there will be no more Madonnas, no more Andy Rooneys, no more Simon Cowells and no more Squidward. There is room in the world for cranks and crabbies as well as the annoyingly cheerful glass half fullers. It's not about rewarding poor behavior, but about accepting that someone can be very talented and also have the social skills of a ball of hair. Let the jerks of the world be themselves. They might also be awesome.

Random Recipe - Breakfast Dinner!

2011-11-10T15:22:00.001-08:00

We do breakfast dinner about once a week in my house. Breakfast dinner is for days that things just suck - you step in a puddle wearing new suede boots, your children are being bratty evil monsters and your stomach is feeling a little tricky. Breakfast dinner is for days you just can't face any more boneless chicken breast or marinara sauce or muthereffin' tacos, dammit. Breakfast dinner is for days when you feel ranty and rebellious - breakfast for dinner? YEAH BABY YEAH. I'm a freakin daredevil. Sometimes we go savory and sometimes sweet. Think the stuff you might cook on a weekend morning, not some Cheerios in a bowl like a brown-socked Grandpa. Note: Real maple syrup is non-negotiable in my world. You may use some lovely jam, or honey or powdered sugar if you like but please, don't use that fake Aunt Jemima crap. Please. Real syrup is pricey but no more than a package of meat and you'll even get a few more meals out of it.

Here is our breakfast menu this evening:

Oatmeal Pancakes with Sauteed Apples & Turkey Bacon

For the pancakes:

1/4 cup all purpose flour

1 cup quick oats
1 Tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/8 salt
1 cup nonfat buttermilk (I cheat - put 1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar in the cup and add milk to 1 cup)
2 Tbsp butter (I use canola oil)
1 large egg, beaten

1) Combine oats and buttermilk in a bowl. Let stand for 1/2 hour. This step makes the pancakes smoother - if you don't mind some texture or you don't have time, skip this step.
2) Combine all dry ingredients in a bowl. Mix well.
3) Combine all wet ingredients in another bowl.
4) Pour the wet into the dry. If you've soaked the oatmeal, just get everything into one bowl. Mix until just combined.
5) In a skillet over med-high heat, heat 1-2 Tbsp of canola oil. You can't use butter at this temp- it will burn. Don't worry - I got your butter coming up. Pour about 1/4 cup onto the hot oil. Cook pancakes until edges brown and bubbles pop, then flip and cook a few minutes on the other side. Set aside and keep warm.

Apples: Core and slice thinly 2 apples of your choice. The Interwebs told me not to use Red Delicious because they fall apart but I DID. How ya like me now, Martha? Don't bother wiping out the skillet. Just put in 2 good slabs of butter (see?), turn down to medium heat and melt. Add apples and 2 Tbsp brown sugar and saute until apples soften. Pile onto pancakes and drizzle with syrup.

I do my turkey bacon in the microwave - works just as well as a skillet and gets nice and crispy. Place a few slices on a plate - don't use paper towel, it will just get stuck and there's no real grease anyway - and microwave about 1 minute per slice. You can certainly use real bacon. I would never stop someone from eating real bacon. It is God's Chosen Food, after all. I've never tried the pre-cooked kind but I've heard it's good (duh, it's BACON) and then you can still microwave it!

And if someone complains about having pancakes and bacon for dinner, they are obviously an ASS and need to go to their room and think about what they've done. I mean, REALLY.

The Other Oldest Profession

2011-11-05T13:57:00.000-07:00

I have been working at an outbound call center as a temp. It is hell. I'll tell you why and also, why I feel so much better about myself as a person since I started there. I always thought of myself as a tough cookie and not too susceptible to mushy crap and all that. I also thought I could do any job to keep food on the table and not worry about it. I was wrong. This kind of job is for someone with the terrifying combination of the ability to SOUND sincere and helpful and the emotional depth of a paper plate of popcorn. You cannot be like me - porcupine on the outside, caramel and puppies on the inside. Yeah, and don't tell people that or I'll have to cut a bitch. And no offense but this is not a job for those with ADD, a high IQ or both. Have you ever been hyper-focused and suicidally bored at the same time? Yes, yes it IS like having 2 sick toddlers in the house on a rainy afternoon and you are forced to watch the same Dora episode 6 more times until bedtime. JUST like that. Except there's no cuteness or liquor to take the edge off. One afternoon now and then, I could do. There are people who have been working at this company for YEARS. Every. Single. Day. Kill. Me. I. Beg. You.

All day long, I call phone numbers off a list bought from another company to ask if anyone in the household could benefit from having a power wheelchair or scooter. Most of those who answer the phone are senior citizens. I am not exactly gullible nor unintelligent but it still took me a few days to realize that I am working in sales. The company talks about itself in terms of helping and facilitating and informing - what they are really doing is all the foreplay for the companies selling the products. Ok, so if the mark, excuse me, CUSTOMER, has Medicare, they will only pay 20% of the cost and yes, if they have secondary insurance, they will most likely not pay anything, especially if they have a condition that will worsen with time. But the language we use is SOOOO not telling them that. We use terms like "provided" and "covered". Really slippery eel-like words that make ME feel squirmy and slimy. I feel like we are the nice, fat, juicy nightcrawler that is hiding the hook. And once we complete the "application" for the sales lead, we pass it along to someone even slicker and more experienced in talking old people out of their money. They sit in a separate room and have dead eyes.

Perhaps because we have been calling all Southern regions this week, most people are at least polite. I've had a few ranters but more hang-ups and no thanks than anything else. At first I was amazed by how many people didn't even consider the offer before saying "no" and then I realized a few things. If it were me, I would sure as HELL be suspicious of anything that sounded "free" being offered by phone by some anonymous company I'd never heard of, especially something as expensive as a power wheelchair. Many people are perfectly aware of the fact that Medicare will cover 80% of the cost and if they really needed one, their doctor would (and should) have already informed them about the possibilities and costs. So what we do is kinda like asking Dad for something Mom already said no to. If I were their doctor, I would be pissed to be backed into a corner like this.

I would certainly NOT be trotting out my Medicare number, which is their social security number (!!) and telling some stranger THAT over the phone. I understand FULLY why people sign over their power of attorney as they get older - it's because of companies like this! I would be instantly paranoid about HOW exactly my number showed up on a list like this. I have been detecting that more in the voices lately - that sense of outrage that just because they are older, they are suddenly decrepit and disabled. Yesterday a 90 year old man told me he walks a mile every morning. I congratulated him with absolute sincerity. A woman today told me she fell right before she answered the phone. I asked her if she needed me to call someone for her. She said her kids were coming by to see her soon. It was heart-breaking.

The GUILT, people, the GUILT. Please don't laugh when I say this keeps me up at night. I am going to have to put my integrity before my own well-being and ask to be re-assigned, even if it means I don't work next week. I just can't do it. I have family members and friends who are excellent sales people and I don't judge them for their expertise or talent. I do believe, however, that they are offering a service or product that is exactly what they say it is. There is room for salespeople in the world, but I have no use for snake oil sellers and charlatans. And I refuse to be one.

Pants on the Ground

2011-10-21T15:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Christina Aguilera,

Girl, what is wrong with you? 3 times this week, you have not worn pants when in public. While lingerie shopping (insert irony here), out to dinner with your man, and onstage at your show. They weren't even leggings - you wore fishnets, for Pete's sake. With what appeared to be a black, old lady girdle from 1943. The Moulin Rouge/Burlesque thing is so over - let it go already. You haven't sung Lady Marmelade in like 17 years. Congrats on beating out La Lohan on the Crazy Bitch of the Week Award, by the way. No pants beats poop colored blush and jail time any day.

Look, I'll give you a pass on the onstage thing even though you are SO NOT BEYONCE and technically, it could be called a "costume". In the loosest sense. I mean, I was wishing it WAS looser, actually. Haven't you learned anything from Nancy Wilson, Stevie Nicks, Janet Jackson and Aretha? Camo that shit with layers! Layers are your friends. Long, loose, flowy, Steven Tyler scarves kinda layers. You have seen what Britney and Jessica Simpson have gone through - did you learn NOTHING? All the blonde hair extensions and lipstick and trucker hats in the world cannot hide a fat ass. They just can't. So why in name of all that is holy would you put it all out there where we can see it and ridicule you for it? Not me personally, of course. I'm offended by the fact that YOU HAVE NO PANTS ON, not by your chunk-a-dunk hanging out everywhere. Your child, your male child, will someday see those pictures of you wearing no pants and how will you answer that question? "I didn't wanna" or "I looked HOTT, what do you mean, trashy?" or "Mommy was a whore".

When there is no good answer, that means you shouldn't be doing it. You can SANG, even if your taste is, uh, questionable. Have some self-respect before you turn into the next Mariah Cuckoo Face.

I'm looking out for you here. You're welcome.

Put some damn pants on, woman.

Love, Me

Jesus Freaks

2011-10-18T17:13:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to wonder if it's really me who is the freakish one. I am a Christian and I'm not ashamed to own it. The trouble I'm having is hearing others refer to Christianity as some kind of cult - a backwards and archaic one. That's a matter of opinion but when did this cultural shift begin? When did it become normal to scoff at religion and refuse to acknowledge its place in millions of people's daily lives? When did it become "cool" to be an agnostic or an atheist? And does non-belief have to go hand in hand with aggressive and impolite remarks on someone else's beliefs? The same people who are stereotyping all Christians as rigid, hell and brimstone, doctor-shooting types infected with The Crazy are typecasting themselves as arrogant, hipster-esque, believe-nothing jerks who cannot tolerate any mention of faith. Who is the rigid thinker now?

There is no defense. As soon as you identify as a Christian, anything you say regarding faith will be looked upon with disdain and ridicule. And God forbid (ha ha) you use any scripture in your debates! It will be assumed that you are some kind of ritualistic drone who has no life beyond church and no intelligence beyond quoting the Bible. If you attempt to display some offense, you will be argued with and handled. The non-believer has no qualms about calling Jesus a "hippie dude", the Bible as "a bunch of made up stuff some dead guys wrote" and patronizing you because you believe something that cannot be proved. There is no counter argument. The non-believer cannot be insulted - it's like saying "Yo' mama!" to an orphan. Why should they care? It's all good for them to call us "freaks" but they are supposed to represent "normality"?

I don't know how to resolve this. I don't know how to say "It's not your lack of belief that bothers me, it's your lack of manners." Because it IS rude to mock someone's beliefs, no matter what they believe. I would not go up to Crazy Homeless Al and insist and argue with him that the aliens are NOT coming and doesn't he think there's enough science to disprove what he thinks? There would be no point and it would only upset him. Would you visit someone's home and criticize their decor? Would you go to another country and start bashing their customs? Is there not some irony in assertively telling someone what they should (or shouldn't) believe when you claim to believe in NOTHING?

Maybe this sense of martyrdom is supposed to be part of being Christian. Maybe I'm supposed to feel oppressed. I just never thought it would be like this.

Random Recipe

2011-10-14T13:36:00.000-07:00

Ginger Chicken Jook
-adapted from chow.com

6 cups water
4 cups chicken broth
1 whole bone-in chicken breast
1 cup Jasmine rice
1 piece fresh ginger, about an inch, peeled and sliced thinly
1-2 t salt
pepper to taste

Combine all in a large pot. Bring to a boil over med-high heat. Stir and lower heat to med-low and simmer for 1 hour. It will probably stick on the bottom - it's ok. Remove chicken, take off the bone and shred. Return chicken to pot and stir to distribute.

Condiments/Garnish: Chopped green onions, chopped cilantro, sesame oil, soy sauce, chili garlic sauce.
You can add any or all to your taste. I suggest at least the green onion and the soy sauce. Kids may like it plain.

This sounds so simple but you will be amazed at how much everyone will love this. It combines the warm homeyness and filling properties of oatmeal with the yumminess and salty flavors of Chinese food. It's easy to make, cheap and can hang in the fridge for a week. It's most excellent for picky eaters and sickie-poos. Makes a great breakfast or warm snack.

I'm sorry I don't know an alternative for veggies. I wish I did.

Enjoy!

I made this yesterday and had some for lunch today 'cause my tummy is a little tricky lately.

These Dreams Part 2

2011-10-12T19:24:00.000-07:00

So I had 2 nights of horrible dreams and here's the second one, which in Stephen King-ian fashion was both shorter, with less detail and HELLA scarier than the last one. I am lying in bed at my grandparent's house in what is known as "the girl's room" as it used to be my mom and aunt's bedroom when they were growing up. It's now a spare room. In my dream, it is decorated circa early 1980's - before my grandmother passed away. As in all dreams, there is a rip in the space time continue-thingie and I am lying there with my daughter (who was born in 1996) and we are both our current ages. The only comic thing in this dream is the fact that we are apparently both fitting comfortably in a twin bed. *snort*

There is very little ambient light coming through the curtains. There is a man coming towards the bed. I don't know his intentions. I only know he is in his mid-sixties, is tallish and thickly built, and wears glasses. I do not recognize him. I am struck with terror and cannot move, cannot speak. I am paralyzed and straining with all my might to scream. All I can do is whimper and I can hear myself mumbling in that way one does when one is attempting to scream in a dream. I remember trying to throw my body over hers. I must have managed to actually scream because I woke myself up with my own voice and flailing around like a windmill.I don't know what it means, I know it's "only" a dream but I can't help feeling a horrible sense of failure. There was a man coming towards my daughter in the dark and I didn't, COULDN'T stop him.

There are no words.

These Dreams - Part One

2011-10-10T07:24:00.000-07:00

Night before last, I had a bad dream. And again last night. While I am a fool for astrology, I am quite pragmatic about dreams, perhaps because I only remember the bad/interesting ones? My mother would say that makes total sense. She claims I only remember "negativity" in my life. Oh, mother. Is that REALLY a bad thing? I WISH I only remembered the bad stuff. How better to defend oneself against ne'er-do-wells and manipulative asshats? If I had a more selective memory biased towards the negative, I wouldn't be flailing around in the death throes of a BIG mistake marriage. I would have dumped him long ago. It is because I am a reluctant romantic and glass half-fuller that it just now came to a screeching halt. That and good looks. I'm honest, even if I am easily charmed.I don't believe "the universe" is sending me messages. I do believe in God but He has made it abundantly clear that while he will be supportive and a good listener, this shit is mine to work out. It always has been. So that leaves my subconscious. Apparently, I am afraid of wolves and old men in glasses. Here's dream numero uno from the other night - I was sitting just outside of an old car - you know, like those gigantic late seventies station wagons. Remember station wagons? Yeah, me too. Anyway, someone (balding? fierce?) is putting hot pink, SPARKLY hair extensions in my hair. A la My Little Pony. No, I'm not kidding. There is an unseen female friend waiting for me in the car while my daughter, suddenly a baby again, is in the backseat. You know how dreams will suddenly go all ADD on you and just swiiiitch to something random? So that happens and I'm standing in what I call faux wilderness. Go to any New England prep school and look towards the woods adjacent to their sports fields. That. Not totally cultivated but no wild animals or poison ivy for miles. Looks authentic. Anyways... I'm looking across a well-clipped meadow of sorts and there is a wolf. Not dog, not German shepherd. A for reals wolf. Yikes. I take off at a good clip (NOT running 'cause everyone knows you don't do THAT) and find myself (SWITCH) in the small playhouse in my grandparent's backyard. I used to spend hours in there. In the dream, it is completely empty, which has not been true for at least 37 years. At this moment, it probably has horror movie populations of insects in it. If this ever really happened, I might just go with the wolf. I look out the front window and there is the wolf. She seems pretty interested in getting to know me (and my legbone?) better. But she is just staring and not being aggressive. I mean, not even huffing and puffing or eating grandmothers. With my limited knowledge of wolves, this is how they would actually behave in this scenario. You know, staring creepily and waiting you out. Of course, this makes the dream MORE scary. I call it the Stephen King effect. It's the reason why his novels are genius. We all know people like Dolores Claiborne or even Carrie and some of us are from small New England towns full of "characters". It heightens the horrible scariness of the plot to think that Neighbor Bud McCrae could be a Regulator. So while the wolf is eyeballing me, I am calling my Ex on the phone to rescue me. Cinderella complex anyone? If this isn't proof of my wishful thinking, I don't know what is. The man has let me down in every possible situation where I've needed his support. I can only shake my head at my dream self. I start to panic because I want to call my daughter (who is suddenly back to her present age) and tell her BIGWOLFDON'TLEAVECARSTAY! but like in real life right now, she has no phone of her own. Then I wake up, all freaked out and sweaty. Here's my interpretations of various parts: I am concerned about my thinning hair and have considered extensions/medication/etc. But there is a thrifty, Yankee masochist in me that says "suck it up and deal the cards life dealt you and get a Jamie Lee Curtis cut". I hate her. So my brain thinks of the silliest thing I would never do and throws it in the mix. Ha.ha. We had a giant station wagon when I was a kid. It was awesome. Probably got about 1 mile to the gallon. My daughter was there - I don't know. Maybe because she's been with me for 15 years? The wolf - this one is weird. I am not unduly afraid of animals, wild or domestic. I'm not Steve Irwin but I'm not all girly about it either. My response to this wolf was pretty characteristic of what I HOPE my real life response would be. Walk quickly to shelter and stay there. My dream self was emotionally WAY more tied up in a) not being able to reach the Ex on the phone and b) keeping daughter in the car, away from deadly animal. I was somehow not all that concerned about my own safety. Putting myself on the back burner? I have been called self-centered, selfish, egotistical, etc all my life - could it be that those things might not be true? Gasp.

Stay tuned for part two.

2011-10-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

Dear Gavin DeGraw,

Took you long enough. I've been waiting for you to come back. Thanks.

-Me

Emmy Notes & 100th Post

2011-09-18T17:49:00.000-07:00

This is my one hundredth post. Not sure if that is significant as numbers have never been that friendly with me. They are like the popular girls in 6th grade - I didn't understand them either.

Here are my notes on the Emmy's so far. Blogging live....in the words of Joey Lawrence....whoa.

Charlie Sheen - Dude. Was that fakety-fake, self-aggrandizing nonsense supposed to make you seem LESS of a douchebag tool? FAIL.

6 (!!) female comedians on stage like beauty pageant contestants, having a blast and turning an act of silliness into a standing ovation/poignant moment of respect. And then Melissa McCarthy visibly mouthing Oh Shit, riding high, crying and making my favorite speech so far. That's one for the Funny Fat Girls! Woooooo hoooo!

Commercial - A Pre-Show moment - How awesome was Kathy Griffin totally knee-capping Ryan Seacrest? I also loved Will Arnett interviewing his wife, Amy Poehler. And some snark - Gwyneth knows she had some old lady saggy pooch going on there, right? I mean, she saw that and just said "Fuck it, I'm Gwyneth Paltrow". Right?

Jane Lynch is awesome. I know it seems obvious but did you hear that fanny pack joke?. Wait, Michael Bolton's Jack mustache is crooked. That's almost more awesome. I enjoyed the freaking on William H. Macy and I think he did, too.

Is it just me but is everyone trying too hard be funny? It's not the comedy awards. It's ok if you are not a comedian. You are still a special snowflake. Lea Michelle Glee person, you are not funny. Just stick to the singing, m'kay?

If I see this J'Adore commerical ONE more time.....or another Audi one. Because everyone knows that Emmy watchin' types love French perfume and uber-expensive imported cars. Uh huh.

Margo Martindale - That's 2 for the Fat Girls! YES! Although why oh why did everyone wear a red dress? Why?

Hey! It's that horrible guy from ER that got killed by a helicopter. Wonder what he's been up to. He's like Dick Clark, he's scarily preserved and never ages.

Martin Scorsese seems so humble and cool for being so much of a God of Film. Maybe he's a closet asshole?

I've decided I don't like the stupid voice-over that happens when the winner walks to the stage. None of them have been funny and it seems a little disrespectful and show-offy. It doesn't ADD anything to the show.

YAY! Win for The Good Wife. Isn't she gorgeous? And speaking of gorgeous, I have the greatest respect for Drew Barrymore. She's just so cute with her little lisp and her producer chops. I've loved her since E.T. and right through those Charlie's Angels movies.

Why is it important to rattle off a bunch of people by name? Aside from family, of course. I don't get it. Must be one of those actor thingies. Uh oh, the British guy has Hugh Grant bumblers disease but at least he was brief. Oh goody, someone stiff and cold to introduce the dead people. That was kinda messed up but I like the Shrek hallelujah singers. Very nice.

I'm kinda skipping a lot - you may have noticed. Sorry about that. I'm actually not a big TV watcher so most of this is sorta boring to me. I only watch for the outfits and the behavior. And the jokes.

I love how earnest Kate Winslet is.

Hey look. A black person. They are a smidge under-represented here, are they not? Where are all the black people? REALLY. WHERE ARE THEY? I counted like 4 in the whole show. And 2 Latinas and 1 Asian. When did all the awards start going to only white shows with white people? Am I missing something here?

YaY! Mad Men. Love. Yay Modern Family - apparently I must start watching?

Off to bed now. It didn't even go long. Huh...

take it easy

2011-09-07T08:51:00.000-07:00

It's hilarious when those who take themselves WAY TOO SERIOUSLY get upset because you took them seriously.

ha ha

2011-09-03T07:54:00.000-07:00

So 2 things that I have an irrational dread of are: Jehovah's Witnesses and red-haired people (gingers). I just have never had a good experience with either. Guess who just knocked on my door?

A GINGER JEHOVAH'S WITNESS.

You know God is a sick, sick bastard sometimes. Not funny, Lord.

Random Recipe

2011-09-01T09:24:00.000-07:00

Just thought I would throw this out there. One of the things I don't suck at is cooking. Here's what I made for lunch today.

Ginger Curry Lentil Stew

3 T extra virgin olive oil (evoo)
1/2 lg onion, diced
1 stalk celery, diced
1 cup baby carrots, chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 inch piece fresh ginger, minced
1 T curry powder
1/4 t dried thyme
1/2 t cumin
1/8 tsp each cinnamon + nutmeg
1/4 crushed red pepper
ground black pepper to taste
2 cups dry red lentils
2 cups broth (chicken or vegetable)
3 cups water
1 14.5 oz can petite diced tomatoes with juices
A good wallop of plain yogurt for garnish (optional)

Note: I add salt at the end of cooking to keep the lentils from getting tough.

1) In a large Dutch oven, heat EVOO over medium heat. Add onion, celery and carrot. Stir and let it go for about 8 minutes, stirring now and then - you want to soften the carrots a bit. Add garlic and ginger and saute for 1 minute. Add all spices and stir to combine, about 30 seconds.

2) Add lentils, broth, water and tomatoes. Stir and raise heat. When it comes to a boil, set heat on med-low. On my electric stove, about a 3. Simmer for 20 minutes. You may add more broth at the end if it's too thick for you. Add salt to taste and garnish with yogurt.

Legumes are very forgiving of seasoning so don't be afraid to ramp up the heat or curry if you like. This is the tame version!

Good with French bread.

When It's Ok to Skip a Wedding....

2011-08-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

You are required to travel 3,000 miles to a "destination" wedding and are poor. And they know that and invited you anyway.
The bride picks a $1,500 UGLY bridesmaid's dress that flatters no one and wants you to pay for it, too.
They've ignored you your whole life up until now -and suddenly need to make up numbers in the wedding party. Thanks, Second Cousin Jennifer.
They've never held your hair while you puked, driven you to the airport, helped you move or untagged bad pictures on Facebook for you.
The bride dated your husband back in the day. And then dumped him.
The groom slept with you. And then told you he was gay to break up with you.
The groom's whole family has a severe drinking problem and no filter when speaking in public. (Also a reason to definitely GO.)
The bride's family are all raw foodists or vegans= no cake and the food will suck. And they will glare at your shoes/handbag accusingly.
They've asked you to photograph, cater, do the flowers or play music - for free. As a "gift to them". No party for you, servant. Thanks, cheap-o.
The officiant got his "certificate" from the Interwebs. Last night.
They are hipsters and the theme is PBR. Or steampunk. Or birds with hats. Or ironic puppy posters. Or Chuck Taylor sneakers. Or robots.
They wrote their own vows and the vows have a theme, too. He's the Captain of her Ship on the Sea of Love. Ahoy!
They want to include your children in the wedding party for cuteness value but are un-inviting them for the rest of it. Which means you need to pay a sitter for the reception only? So you have to go drop them off at your house and come back? No.
You are vomiting, have diarrhea, are running a fever, or have ebola. No one wants to see any of that. Trust me. There are some things booze and makeup can't fix.
Someone there may or may not have a restraining order against you or your date.
You secretly really hate them.

That's all I got. You got any?

Dating for Dummies

2011-08-22T12:25:00.001-07:00

2 bits of advice from an old lady who should've known better:

Take it S-L-O-W. Even slower.
When they show their ass, RUN.

Over

2011-08-14T20:38:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else feel finality like a kick to the teeth? A punch to the gut you were not expecting? Even when you have made the call, does the play still sadden you, break you? God, I hate to feel like a failure when all I did was fail myself. All I did was try to turn a toxic dump of a relationship into a cave of treasures. Whadaya mean a marriage certificate doesn't fix it? You mean, pinning your hopes on an ideal you've never seen and trusting in a piece of paper to protect your fragile fantasy like a shield...is wrong?

All those nights wondering what did I do, what can I do, whywhywhyishesomean. Maybe he doesn't mean it, the mean. Maybe the mean is just my imagination. Maybe the mean is really me being mean. The gaslight flickering and flickering....On. No, off. No, on. Is there a light on? No? Oh, ok. Must be me and my crazy seeing stuff you already told me wasn't there. Didn't happen. I never did that to you. I never hurt you. I would never hurt you. I will never hurt you again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't hurt you. You're okay. What is your problem? Stop crying. I didn't do anything to you.

Can you do me this one favor? You don't mind, right? After all, I only pinched, kicked, smacked, squeezed, jostled, bit, slapped, destroyed, humilated, mocked, neglected, ignored, derided, sexually assaulted, lied, cheated and insulted you.

I didn't do anything to you.

Can you make sure none of my immigration stuff gets messed up?

Older

2011-07-31T12:04:00.000-07:00

When the thought of typing a comment on a celebrity watch website makes you exhausted, who is older - you or the Internet?

The Apartment Code

2011-07-27T07:25:00.000-07:00

I've lived in apartments my whole adult life - there's a "code" you live by and when you break that code, the precarious balance of living on top of each other is toppled. Here's how I would write the code:

1) If I can hear your fighting, your music, or your dog barking, you have exactly 10 minutes to make it stop or I will call the cops. These walls are thin and if you can hear me open a can of beans, trust me when I tell you I can hear your husband farting. Special exceptions will be made for colicky infants and monkey sex noises. Nobody can stop that shit. Don't hate 'cause I have one and you have the other.

2) Please speak when spoken to. At least NOD. Don't be an asshole. It won't kill you to fake-smile. Who do you think is calling the coroner for you when your cats start eating your face? Be nice to your neighbors. You know, outside, where people can see you.

3) If our mail gets switched, put it in my box NOW. Please. For the love of Pete, don't bring it inside your house and put it in your pile with the coupons and old newspapers. STOP recycling my child support checks. Do you have any idea how hard that was to GET?

4) You BETTER pick up that poop. Yes, NOW, when it's warm and gooey. You wanted a dog and we share this backyard. Everyone in MY house uses a toilet. And don't think we don't see you all up in the corner next to the bush either. We see you. When you and the dog have the same shame face on, we know what's going down.

5) If you even TRY to steal my cable, electricity, or Internet, I will cut a bitch. I work too hard for these over-priced "luxuries" to let you ride, drinking your name brand beer and smoking your name brand cigarettes. Why don't you quit and go to work so you can afford utilities? I have a password for a reason, stupid. And no, we're NOT splitting the bill. Get your own Bravo.

6) My kid doesn't HAVE TO be friends with your kid. No, really. It's ok to hate people the first time you meet them. Happens to me all the time. You can't force people to like each other, which means I don't have to be your friend either. There's a reason I book from my car to the door in .02 seconds. It's not zombies chasing me. See #2 above on fake smiling.

7) If you want to leave your plants, dogs, cats, expensive electronics in your house while you go do whatever for whatever amount of time, that's not my responsibility. If I see someone breaking in, I'll call the cops. Mostly because they might try me next. I am not your FREE, automated waterer, feeder and look-out. Maybe my kid will feed and walk your dog if you ask her but you better pay somebody. Really? Not even five bucks, you cheapskate? FUCK YOU THEN. Go see if the doggie hotel will take $0 for a week.

The Code is not difficult. It's mostly common sense with a little "be responsible for yourself" thrown in. Two things some people have in short supply. Love your neighbor!

Who's the Saddest of Them All?

2011-07-24T14:25:00.000-07:00

I have been dismayed to see some snotty remarks about Amy Winehouse on Facebook and some other places. Her death made me re-evaluate some of my thoughts on addiction and mental health and I was really surprised at my own strong response to her passing. I loved her music. I could see the raw talent. We will never hear that smoky, bitchy, kitty cat voice again. It depresses me to see some people, who I know have struggled with the same demons she did, take cheap shots at her. And in the same breath, they were lamenting the innocent victims of the Norway shootings and saying that was MORE important/appropriate to feel sad about. I don't see how one NEGATES the other. I find it offensive that there are people making it into a tragedy contest. I find one person's death sad, I also find many people's deaths sad. I think it is highly disrespectful to play the one up game with death. I don't find it necessary to "pick a side". Should we start berating Amy's family, friends, and fans for mourning her? So if I feel upset about Amy, I am somehow taking something away from the victims in Norway? That doesn't make any sense to me.

Amy Winehouse is not LESS dead than all those people in Norway or any of the other many, many deaths in the world on a single day. I personally felt connected with her through her music and knowing the feelings that addiction can torture someone with. I felt drawn to her because there but for the grace of God went I. When she sang about self-destruction and letting men walk all over her and trying to get back up, I cried from recognition of myself. In some ways, she was every woman. She was human.

When I heard about the shootings in Norway, a feeling of horror swept through me as I imagined my daughter, who is currently at summer camp, facing a madman like this and having no escape. Ok, I have to admit, I only thought of it for a few moments because I couldn't take thinking of it for longer than that. But I did shed a tear for those children and others and their families. I can't imagine what they must be feeling, the same way some mean people on the Internet can't imagine what Amy Winehouse might have been feeling at the time of her death.

I lost someone very dear to me on July 23, 2010. Should I pack away my personal sorrow in the face of mass tragedy? And if I did, what would be the purpose? No one who died in Norway is coming back. And neither is Amy or my grandfather.

May they rest in peace.

Oh My Darling

2011-07-23T12:53:00.000-07:00

You would HATE to be cliche,
You would snarl and swear and spit.
But here you are, painted with that brush.
Talent + pain + demons unfought, dead at 27.
I can only know a tiny corner of you, that scritch-scratchy roar that burrowed in and haunted.
Those clever, hurt words that made me cry and want to hug you hard.
And buy you another round.
Oh honey.
It was bad, wasn't it? It musta been.
It gets bad sometimes.

I'll go back to black someday soon,
And I'll take you with me.

Amy Winehouse 1983 - 2011

It's My Prerogative...

2011-07-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

To blog what I wanna blog. Thank you, Bobby Brown. Not only do you provide excellent crackhead joke material - you and your crazy woman - you also sang a song about the classically "female" trait of the right to change your mind.

And I've decided that I may blog about my continued situation in which I have no one to blame but myself...or I may not. It has occurred to me that on the off chance that someone actually reads this claptrap, why would they want to read about THAT? I wouldn't. I mean, if it was Posh and Becks, maybe. From some random chunky lady in the Lite South, nah.

The problem with making choices is that if you don't make any, someone else does. Yes, I know this is not a news flash. It's the kind of stuff high school guidance counselors practice in mirrors, trying out the concerned face. But as with most trite sayings and cliches, it's totally true. I have been lazing around the house for weeks, not REALLY job searching. Sending out some little feelers here and there. Mostly cruising the Internets and fucking off. The crazy part of my brain (95%) convinces me that if I hold real still, nothing will change and I won't have to do anything. Ever. Again.

I told you it was crazy. Even if I FEEL like a rabbit waiting to get picked off by a passing hawk, that is not what is happening in my life, not even metaphorically. There is no storm passing overhead so why am I sitting in this bunker waiting for it to pass? Life is simply going on calmly and I am hunkered down in AC land. There is no danger except in my mind. I don't know how to convince myself that making a decision will not kill me. It might.

Best Served Cold...Or Not At All

2011-07-14T08:51:00.000-07:00

In examining my reasons for staying in the path of destruction, I watch myself trying to get my revenge. It is a silly, futile gesture when your target is a) oblivious and b) has no heart and therefore can only be hurt in the most superficial manner. I will never be able to hurt him the way I have been hurt for the simple reason that he is not built that way. But, oh, how I wish! It may be unChristian and horrible but I want him to HURT.

There are really only 2 reasons I am still in this. I am afraid I have broken myself and I am afraid (broke). I don't know if I can rock my unstable mental boat and I sure as hell can't keep it above water with no money. He is the only income right now and I am NOT going to put myself and my daughter through the financial hell we have already been through. I have done the math over and over, hoping against hope that I could just do it alone but right now? Impossible. Truly. I would lose more than I would gain, including my car. A bad investment with some concrete return is better than a great investment that has a gossamer return at some unknown date in the future. It's all very well to say "oh yeah get rid of him, God will provide, blah blah" and I hate to sound like a whiny asshole but seriously, who is gonna pay the bills? The Family Resource Center downtown? Nope.

I am only glad I have not been forced to subject anyone but me to this idiocy. We could argue my daughter has been affected, too, but we don't even have the most inane conversations in front of her anymore because I learned quickly that ANY snippet of dissent would turn a reasonable conversation into a critique. So any and all marital discussions we have are in private. Always. I feel horrible enough that I am an idiot and still here so piling on maternal guilt and thoughts of modeling poor relationship behavior just tip me right off the edge. I can't go there right now. Plus she is far away in Maine at summer camp so I'm able to go "full monty" with my emotions, which helps a little. Keeping up appearances is exhausting.

This man doesn't even give me the bare bones basics of a relationship. I spend literally less than 2 hours a day with him due to his need to be out all the time. He only works 6 hours a day. I have started to mentally wean myself off his presence and find that not only does it not bother me to not see him, he seems overjoyed to finally be rid of Needy Wife who wants *gasp* attention, conversation, sex! Let him find out that as SOON as I find employment and am able to support myself again, he will have all the free time in the world. To not miss me. Damn, that hurts.

Monopoly

2011-07-11T13:04:00.000-07:00

Did you ever play Monopoly with a bully? I have. When I was a kid, I played with this boy from down the street who changed the rules or made up new ones to suit himself and stole from the bank as well as from the other players. We argued with him to no avail - it was play his way or go home. We went home. 4 hours later.

There is something fascinating about a situation like this. Even in the midst of being cheated and having tiny houses stolen when we went pee, there was a strange pull towards this boy. If there hadn't been other people caught in his tractor beam, I would have said that it was just my burgeoning hormones or my fledgling tendency to attract abusers. But the other kids stayed, too. I wonder if I asked them today, would they remember this or was he as bad as I recall? Were we so interested in experiencing such a strange thing that we forgot it was hurting us? Were we so indestructible?

This is what it's like to live with someone emotionally abusive. Just when you think your money is straight, they take some of it even when you give it to them freely. You build up your property with tiny red houses and they stomp through them and then ask why you're crying? What's your problem? Why can't you just play by their rules? Rules that change whenever and however it occurs to the banker. A bully will only be nice to you for 2 reasons - because someone is watching them or they want to set you up. You have no other use to them and your feelings are not part of the equation.

I have a clinical interest in this behavior that defies my emotion - in fact, this voyeurism into my own tragedy is at direct odds with getting away from it. Just like that girl who was missing her fives after she got a drink of water, I can't seem to just leave while the game is still on.

Balls and Horns

2011-07-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

Do you grab the bull by the balls or the horns? Neither is really such a great idea but sometimes, these things must be done to keep the bull from breaking everything in sight. The bull is the pressure I live with every day. I am married to an emotional abuser. I choose to stay with him for right now. It's certainly not an easy or popular choice but there it is. I DO NOT expect sympathy, pity or help in getting out. I know that is for me to decide and to do. All are welcome to voice their opinions but please know I've heard it all. This is a decision I am making for reasons I don't want to share right now.

I've decided to blog about it "publicly" (ha ha I have like, 3 readers HI GUYS) partially because the man is getting suspicious of me using "his" computer. I keep my journal on a thumb drive that only works with the PC. I have a Mac. So there it is. One of the first things you learn with an EA is how to manage the trouble. You learn to keep peace by subjugating yourself in order to placate the other person. The other reason I am blogging is the little steam that blows from the bull's nostrils is not releasing enough pressure for me so I am trying this as a way to get it all out.

2 months into our relationship, my husband (then boyfriend) went out with his buddies. He left his phone with me. Because I have SERIOUS trust issues and had recently been burned by a liar, I checked his phone. Hell, yeah, I did. Now comes the chicken and the egg discussion. Well, if you're checking it, that means you are a distrusting pyscho and you deserve whatever you find. That's one side to the story. The point is if you check and you find nothing, you just FEEL like a distrusting pyscho and then you know you betta check ya' self before you wriggedy wreck ya'self. If you do find something, you might have some fortune telling in your blood AAAANNNDD (wait for it..) YOU WERE RIGHT. Now, now- I know being right doesn't seem to matter much when that sinking feeling sets in and you realize he's a dog. However, at least now you know. Guess which team I root for? Here's the thing: You finding out in a sneaky fashion doesn't NEGATE the horrible, disrespectful behavior. IT DOESN'T, no matter how mad he gets, makes the sad face or picks a fight about his precious privacy. All that is smoke and mirrors because....

Something like this is the tip of the iceberg. All the stuff he might do, will do, has done is all under the water just waiting there. Someone who has no moral compass not only rationalizes all their horrible behavior, they believe the "healthy relationship" rules don't apply to them. And if you are like me, you do NOTHING to tell them differently. That's why they keep doing shit and then yelling at you when you find them out.

There seems to be a general opinion among women that the snooper gets what they deserve just for looking!! I vehemently disagree. Yes, if you feel the need to snoop, something is wrong. The question is whether something is wrong with you or him. The reason it's important to find out is so you don't keep dating the same loser. It's important to know if your gut is working the way it should, isn't it? Otherwise how can you trust it?

Can you find me ONE person on this planet who doesn't have some trust issues? If you are the problem, you can get help for feeling like everyone is untrustworthy. But you CANNOT keep from being taken in by some tricky Dick who makes promises and then breaks them. If someone who is usually level-headed and has minimal trust issues goes looking, it's because their gut is SCREAMING warnings. Please, PLEASE can we stop blaming the victim and start focusing on what constitutes snooping and which is more disrespectful - you checking his phone or him taking some girl's number at the club last time he was out.

"The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them". -Maya Angelou

Still Here

2011-07-09T19:11:00.000-07:00

I checked.

DON'T SCROLL DOWN

2011-05-01T05:01:00.000-07:00

No, no not you. I don't mean on this page. I'm talking about the comments section of nearly every online article, blog, or piece of OMG claptrap you know you clicked on just before you came here to read "real" news. I have been noticing that the comments are horrible. Really, truly hate-filled vitriolic spew aimed at the writer of the piece, his or her views, or the subject itself. Many times there is a complete disconnect between what has been said in the piece and the comment left, which is even more boggling. What is this all about?

WHY do so many people post such hateful things? Take any random article - say, a "fluff" budgeting piece written by a housewife. Yes, I've read this same article in magazines, I've heard all this advice before, yada yada yada. Even the writing style is pretty meh. I mean, I know some 4th graders who have written more exciting papers on Thomas Jefferson - and that's without the juicy jungle fever deets. However, I don't feel the need to leave a comment saying that. Or any other number of insulting, passive-aggressive (I totally just cheered that - how else do you spell it?) or political quips. What is the point the authors of these comments are trying to make? Aside from making the original author feel bad, what audience do they think they are reaching with their angry tirade against the president, or in comparing the author to their ex-wife? Is it really just venting? And do they think they are invisible?

If you left a bucket of Sharpies next to a white wall in a semi-private yet public place for one day, who would write? You'd be surprised. This is not limited to age, education level, or gender. We all do it. But why?

I am certainly not immune to the lure of angry righteousness. In fact, it is a daily pill for me to swallow. I get irrationally angry over stupid stuff. I compose rants in my head and edit them in red pen. I am someone who likes to vent - I get it. I don't get the venting to a blind audience, though. I don't get the ranting to empty rooms. I don't get the complete pointlessness of shouting at someone who is not listening. If you cut me off in traffic, I want you to SEE my middle finger. Not that I would do that, just an example, of course.

When I have something to say, I aim carefully. I may not hit and in some cases, I may miss. But I'd like to think that my opinion could at least be a contribution to a larger conversation. I hope that what I say doesn't hurt and maybe might help someone, make them smile. I'd like to imagine that the words I write here, where as far as we know are permanent, may someday give my great-great-greats a smile. The written word has always been a powerful force. It's a shame that the freedom of the web is being exploited this way. It's an opportunity to communicate, not an excuse to abuse each other.

There are millions of comments out there. Sadly, I won't read most of the positive ones because I'm not scrolling down anymore.

Shit Stirrer

2011-04-25T03:57:00.001-07:00

Recently, on my very favorite site, that's right, The DoCo, I simultaneously opened both a large, smelly can of worms and some smaller cans of whoop-ass I had stashed in the back of my closet. The result was...spectacular. I don't mean that in the fabulous way complete with sequins and designer shoes. I mean in the avalanche kinda way.

I posed a question regarding weight and personal responsibility as regards health insurance. I won't go into it the original question again, I promise. I said everything I wanted to say there. I'm more interested in the response/backlash/therapeutic purging that exploded there. Yowza, some people are so frickin' self-centered. I thought I took the cake on that one but really? I've never seen so many people take an academic (ok, yes, and controversial) question and make it ALL ABOUT THEM. Sheesh. There was crying, there was judgment, there were non-judgmentals judging the judgers (ha!), there were some vicious arguments of principle and there were tons of hurt feelings. Did I mention it was a HYPOTHETICAL QUESTION? Oy.

Here's the thing, fat women of the DoCo. It wasn't about YOU. It was not an attack on your crappy sneakers, your lack of gym membership, your secret Twinkie addiction, or your family's mean comments to you. It was not another voice in your head saying "you are a fat, disgusting lump and I hate you". It was not the sense of failure you have every day you are overweight. It was a question on a website. You chose to make it something else. You chose to take it personally and then you blamed everyone else for your hurt feelings.

I struggle with my weight every day. I have physical symptoms of fatness that would not exist if I weighed 100 pounds less. My feet hurt, my back hurts, I have a poor self-image, and I don't bother to dress well. I refuse a lot of joy in my life so I can keep eating and eating. I spent about half of my tax return on food. That's like 2 grand. Who can I blame for that? Let's see - oh, pretty much everyone ever in my life. Is that gonna make me skinnier? No.

It's still about owning up, it seems, and people just don't wanna do it. Blame your upbringing, blame your genetic makeup, blame the schools, blame the fashion magazines, blame the fast food industry, blame the food deserts. There are so many ways you can NOT take the blame that it's staggering. But if...if you stop blaming and start looking for answers, you'll find some. I will never weigh what I did in 7th grade. I will never get back the semi-flat stomach I had before my kid disfigured me. I will never be taller than 5'2" and will always have short hair. It's all good. You shift gears and decide - NOW what can I be? NOW what can I do to feel good about my body? NOW what changes do I need to insist on to get there? NOW I can act like an adult and DO something instead of whine.

No one said it's easy. Shit, no. Easy is sitting on the couch and eating pretzel M&Ms and getting fatter every year. Easy is cleaning off the kids plates so you don't "waste". Easy is thinking that you will go to the gym tomorrow. Easy is Hamburger Helper, driving .05 miles to the park, and then sitting on a bench watching the kids play. No one said you were WRONG for doing these things. You are not wrong. But you're not happy either. Are you?

Back to Black (The Poetry Slam Post)

2011-04-03T17:21:00.000-07:00

Black is badass. Black don't take no shit. Black will slap you into next week. Black will chew you up and spit you out. Black smokes unfiltered cigarettes and drinks whiskey. Black looks really good with sparkle, sequins, metal and leather. Black is Joan Jett, Amy Winehouse and Peaches (but NOT Ke$ha - she WISHES she was black. She's sort of an unsophisticated indeterminate purple.)

Black is the color of cool. Night and deep, dark, naughty. Black always wears sunglasses and heeled boots. Black wears silver, never gold. Black cries sometimes when no one can hear. Black will have your back.

I used to be a BAD bitch. Black. I need to get back to that girl and grow her into the woman I want to become. Find all the black bits hiding out and drag them onto the front burner. Need to char up some of this pale, pastel nonsense growing on me like a fungus. Cut out these tumors of yellow, sickly green and bruised red.

There is an righteousness slowly simmering in the heart of black. A good, healthy rage towards injustice. Protective, smart and cunning. It tastes like steak and red wine. Tough and tender, rich and fruity, passionate and earthy. I'm gonna suck up every bit and keep going back for blacker. Till I'm all the way back to black.

Exercise is Free! No one said it didn't suck, though...

2011-02-03T04:41:00.000-08:00

So I have a gym membership. And I go. Sometimes. I really MEAN to and then... I always thought people who said they didn't have time just didn't want to go and now I know it's actually a little bit of both. There are big crowds at the gym at 6:30 - I call them the Guilty Parties. They know that evening is the last gasp of the day unless you are single, or love to sweat in the wee hours, or work third shift. Maybe some of them don't want to go home yet and are coming straight from work. Some have been home all day and are here now because they know they are supposed to work out. Some are bound and determined to get their money's worth - I mean, they already paid, right? Some show up to socialize or flirt.

Last time I went, I was in a fight with my husband and I was trying to use the elliptical machine to self-medicate instead of chocolate. Trust me when I say that EVERY. minute. sucked. and I wished I had gone with crying and pretzel M&M's instead. I was sad, tired and forcing myself to do it. And there were tons of people there, which makes me anxious. So I closed my eyes, put on the radio station with the metal, and burned, baby, burned. It takes me almost 30 minutes to reach that "runner's high" where the adrenaline or whatever kicks in. I'm hoping as I get fitter, that number will decrease. It takes a lot of will power to wait that long for that elusive feeling.

I did 32 minutes on that machine. Full on cardio with the heart rate and red face to prove it. I came off that machine with rubbery legs and a kick-ass attitude. I strutted my sweaty self to the car and came home with a spring in my step. The fight was still on, I was still tired and I still wanted to cry. But my attitude had shifted and my body was singing zip pa dee do dah.

Not too shabby for a fat lady with mental problems.

So here's to exercise as a therapy tool. It works. Now if only I could get to my appointments....

Being Kind & Competent is FREE

2011-01-26T08:45:00.000-08:00

I love good customer service. God, I love it like the air I breathe. It is as refreshing as cold hose water on a hot summer day when you are 6 years old and you just ran around the backyard with your friends in your bathing suit. All seems right with the world...and so simple. When you must run an errand that is time-consuming, or boring, or maybe just doesn't have a clear outcome - good customer service can make or break your day. This morning I had to go to the unemployment office (they call it employment security but who are they kidding? No such thing anymore..) because I had been unable to get any answers, or money, from using the website or phone service. I find that usually going in person is what it comes down to in these situations anyway, but I try - I really do try to give technology a chance but it always lets me down. See post on self-checkout. Now when you go to this kind of place, you expect to wait. You expect that there will be some kind of problem, some grumpy nonsense that holds everything up. BUT THEN THERE ISN'T. Is that the best gift ever or what? I asked my questions. I received my answers. A few more Q's and A's and I was on my way, feeling almost like I forgot something. The person at the front counter was pleasant, even though he was training and visibly nervous. He did his job and looked to his trainer for help when he needed to. The customer service person was also pleasant, patient and competent. She gave me immediate answers and even when delivering bad news (oh yes it wasn't that easy) she was poised and calm. It is similar to calming a horse, really. Just keep your cool and the horse will be cool, too. I can't imagine anyone blowing up at this lady although I'm sure it has happened. And I bet she was as cool a cucumber with them as she was with me. I could go on but I won't. I will just say this - the reason that there are no fast-track, money-making schemes being built around customer service training is because it cannot be taught. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I believe it to be an art form. You either have it in your bones or you don't. You either GET what providing good customer service is or you don't. But when it's good, it's SO good. And it's free.

Free Happiness - Alternate Reading

2011-01-21T17:14:00.000-08:00

So if you read it "free happiness!" like it's being held hostage, that's kinda like what the past few weeks have been like. Work has been not working. Literally. No hours . And there's some sort of BULLSHIT going on with unemployment, which translates to that I am not receiving it. BAD, y'all. Not good. That W-2 better be prepared for a dirty French kiss when it gets here.

Yesterday sucked. It was one of those days that those STUPID depression drug commercials cannot accurately portray. Sure, there was some sitting around with greasy hair looking sullen but that is NOT what depression looks like, okay? It's less about winding myself up and more about keeping all the pieces from flying apart. It's about making superhuman efforts to still cook meals and speak civilly to loved ones. It's about getting out of bed bc NOT moving when your mind is racing is even worse. It's about just being sad and then feeling guilty/stupid for being sad about "nothing" and then feeling more sad/guilty/stupid.

Sorry - happiness - yes. Anyway, the darkness passed quicker than I thought and a lot of that was due to having a sweet heart to heart with my husband late last night. Sometimes we both find it easier to talk lying in the dark, under the blankies. We usually have to discuss something more than once and a lot of times the first go round is a fight or a misunderstanding. We are both stubborn and smart so we need a few tries to get down to the meat of a subject. But even though the subject is not yet "resolved", I felt that he was really listening. That's like really good chocolate cake. Nothing compares to it. So YAY! for working on our marriage. It was free and it made me happy.

FH Project - Day 2 - Blogs are Free!

2011-01-19T05:40:00.000-08:00

I am one of those people who has to come to something on their own. I have been told by a few people that I should keep a journal. I always scoffed and pictured my diary from 6th grade, which was filled with the STUPIDEST things imaginable. I mean, really..all those Mrs. Cute Classmate with the hearts. I cringe for my 11 year old self. I was also resistant (who..ME?) to the idea of HAVING to do something but now I'm starting to realize that the point of keeping a journal (or blog) is that it's a discipline. I am NOT good with discipline. It would be easy to blame the ADD or the depression or whatever but that's just excuses. I don't know that it will have any positive effect on me or not - I've never stuck with it long enough to know. I guess I will find out. So today I am going to make some phone calls.. I have a hard time making phone calls involving money. It doesn't matter to whom, or for what reason - it just makes me anxious. Even right now, as I wait for business hours to commence, I am getting knots in my stomach about calling for unemployment. This is money that is owed to me so why am I so tense about it? I dunno. Anyway, I plan on finishing my cleaning that I didn't do yesterday and thinking about how I can add more structure to my days off work. I like to get things done but with the mental issues, it doesn't happen. Lists! Maybe some lists...

the FREE Happiness Project

2011-01-18T08:20:00.000-08:00

I need more happiness in my life. The only one who can change that is ME. So I will be doing everything I can to create more joy EVERY DAY. The challenge is to bring happiness into your life without spending money on STUFF. Today I am going to clean and organize. Then I might sit and read some. I am making a vow that the things I do buy will be useful, beautiful and long-lasting. It's gonna be tough for a sensory addict but I think I will feel more at peace with myself.

Dear Santa

2010-12-20T06:39:00.001-08:00

There is a tiny part of my heart that still believes. A tiny, Cindy Lou Who part that really does believe that there is a jolly Head Elf up there in Northern Siberia, making toys and drinking cocoa and maybe taking a vacation in Fiji in January. So in the spirit of believing, here is my letter this year.

Dear Santa,

Thank you for the joy you bring to children everywhere. I love to see that sparkle in their eyes when they see you. Thank you for representing giving and magic and wonder. I hope you have been well and are rested and ready for Christmas 2010. There are a lot more kids in the world nowadays but I know you can manage. They need you more than ever.

I know I haven't written to you in many, many years but I thought I would just drop a line to ask you for a few small things this year. I appreciate your patience with an old lady like me. I will try harder to get on the Nice List next year, I promise.

This year, Santa, my family won't have our Head Elf. He worked so hard all his life to make us happy, just like you. He gave of himself and never asked for anything in return, just like you. Sometimes, we thought he was magic, too! We miss him so. So this year, give us the gift of remembering him with laughter, with joy and with gratitude. Help us to smile through our tears and to honor him with appreciating each other. Show us through your example how to keep the Christmas spirit alive. Help us also to remember how many freakin' drummers drumming there are.

Thanks, Santa.

Love, Kim

I Miss You

2010-11-04T07:09:00.000-07:00

I lost my grandfather this summer after a battle with cancer. He was also my godfather and my second dad. He taught me how to drive, how to debate without malice, how to be there for your family, how to give with no expectation of return, how to fix ANYTHING, how to live frugally, how to enjoy simple things, how to keep up with housework, how to think before you act or speak, how to be a more gracious, more mindful person. I know that he was not always the man I knew as Bump. He grew into that person and he was not perfect by any means. He was stubborn and narrow-minded sometimes. He was pretty formidable when he was mad. He was an alcoholic. But he was also an inventor, an incredible craftsman, a brilliant engineer, a former Merchant Marine, a loving husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He lost the love of his life but grew as a person and improved his relationships with his family, especially the women and girls, as a result. He showed up to every graduation, wedding, ceremony and as many sporting events as humanly possible. His last holiday this past July 4th, he sat at the parade, quiet with a small smile, with his family when he must have been feeling horrible, in pain and knowing this was it for him. The incredible stamina and fortitude of a man who raised 7 children on a single income. A man who gladly opened his home to family members when they needed it, me included. He even co-parented my daughter with me when she was very small. My Bump loved Colt State Park, liked dogs and children, soup, red flannel nightshirts and wool berets. He loved his family and made sure they knew it, not by speech but by action. He led by example. He loved to tease and the more he teased you, the more he loved you. Sometimes I will see a white-haired gentleman around 5'6", nicely dressed with an older model Volvo and I feel a little stab to my heart. My Bump will never meet my husband, never meet the children we may have. I moved away knowing he was sick and part of me knew that I would not see him again. After a big hug, he stood smiling and waving from the gravel driveway of 12 Sunnyside Ave. He was my Bump and I miss him so.

I Hate Food...Service.

2010-09-23T04:21:00.001-07:00

Getting up at the crack of dawn or working until 2 am. Hours on your feet with no breaks. Cranky customers, managers, and chefs who think they are Emeril. Lifting, pushing, pulling, cleaning, organizing, setting up, breaking down, bickering, in-fighting, gossip, dirty jokes, sexism, racism. The never-ending battle between FOH (front of house) and BOH (back of house). Oh, did I mention lack of appreciation, smelling like a hot dumpster, and SHIT FOR PAY?? I know I am breaking the Almighty Rule of blogging, otherwise known as "The Dooce Rule" - blogging about work. Perhaps I will regret it later but right now I feel the need to vent.

Food service runs on the premise of all creative arts, teaching, and most other service-related careers. You must truly love it and all it's attendant bullshit in order to stay in the game. To excel or achieve anything beyond your own recognition you must be actually crazy. You most certainly will not be compensated for the level of training, professional capacity and sheer work that is expected of you. You will work with those from all walks of life and all age groups, which seems terrific at first until you get into a "discussion" (read=heated argument) over one of the Big Three. Religion, politics and sex. Someone WILL tell you you're wrong about something EVERY SINGLE DAY. Usually loudly. In front of 10 of your co-workers.

While at my current job of one year, I have been told a thousand dirty jokes/perverse personal stories, been asked if I was pregnant (nope, just fat), been hit on by both co-workers and complete strangers, been told I am a racist (my husband is African and my daughter is mixed LOL), had gallons of lemonade/cobbler/etc. fall on me and been laughed at, told to suck it up and stop whining, told to not eat at work (um..we work in food ser..sigh...), thrown under the bus, accused of lying, stealing, not working and deliberately messing up. I have been ridiculed, condescended to and rarely apologized to. I have even had my work shoes stolen, coated in food and then hidden in a room. Explain THAT! During my review I was told I should watch how I speak to others as "feelings have been hurt". Wiggedy wiggedy WHAT?? We are at work - I am not going to PC my opinions for your consumption, especially since NO ONE ELSE DOES. If there was a policy about talking shit that was actually enforced, maybe I would consider shutting up.

I will be leaving there soon. I am only still there because I am old enough ( and smart enough) to realize that walking off a job is not only immature but professional suicide. I need good recommendations and references. Too bad no one can ever figure out the magic equation of how much crap a person is willing to tolerate versus how much they get paid. If we could get that straight, there would be a lot less turn over in food service.

Information Whore

2010-09-20T03:48:00.000-07:00

Can't get enough. Always looking. Never satisfied. I start to question the supposed power one is meant to have with being more informed. I don't feel powerful. Stuffed to the gills with useless trivia and random facts, YES, but powerful? No. What is all this stuff I know supposed to do for me? Does it get me ahead in life? Does it make me smarter than your average bear? It seems sometimes to just serve as a thorn in my side. A needly little voice telling me to be more productive, live up to my potential, DO SOMETHING. If I didn't know about the other side of the world, would I still dream of going somewhere? Do those who know less feel more satisfied and content? Is ignorance bliss? Aahh...see? More stuff I don't know.. Are other people doing the same thing, just living out their lives and slowly crumbling away?

I got married.

2010-07-08T16:36:00.000-07:00

Okay, so maybe to some people, no biggie. To someone who has struggled with a lot of issues and some really crappy men, BIG DEAL. Meeting this man, falling in love, all of it has completely changed my perspective on EVERYTHING. Except I still use a LOT of caps (and parentheses). I am admittedly a newlywed and don't know jack but I do know this. This man is the one I'm supposed to be with and every cliche applies. He completes me, he makes me a better person (or at least more friggin patient!), I can't explain why I know he's the one, I just do, and he makes me feel like a natural woman. I'm not good at the mushy gushy stuff - mostly because I still have some pretty big trust issues, but he is a reticent guy so see how that all works out? He is reserved where I am boisterous. He is patient where I am GO DOG GO! He is a penny pincher where I will spend rent money on InStyle magazine, shiraz, and chocolate. He can see the future and will plod down the road with unflagging stamina while I am whining about blisters and stopping every 2 yards for water breaks. There are no 2 people more different - we grew up on the opposite side of the world from each other and yet...And yet. Someone asked me last week if I could see him as my husband, if I was sure I should get married yet. I was only sure that he already was my husband. We only needed a piece of paper. And still, funny how that piece of paper makes me feel - chosen, secure, a part of something. BELOVED.

I would like to give an appreciative shout out to TOVA! Thanks for inspiring me to get back to this..I forgot how much I loved it.

Robert Frost wrote other poems, ya know...

2009-11-28T07:13:00.000-08:00

Some days I get sad just thinking of all the things I will never do. Road less traveled and all that. That is not to say that I know what those things are in advance, it's the possibility that I will miss out on something AMAZING that makes me feel melancholy. Do others feel this way? Is this why some people just go off the deep end and start drinking/cheating/shooting up a mall? They start thinking about their sad little lives and lose it? What would be a law-abiding response? Do I make a "bucket list" and go wild trying to check everything off? Do I start taking yoga or go into therapy? One thing I have learned so far is that no one thing works for everyone. If it did we would have a lot of really rich yoga teachers. I'm pretty sure this is what is meant by a mid-life crisis. I am not in the market for hair plugs or a Ferrari so now what? What does a middle aged, overweight single mom do when she sees the rut in her life widening to include cable TV marathons and endless weekends. If you would rather be at work, what does that say about your life? I have a lot of questions today about everything...Is that what a blog is?

still not over it

2009-06-30T10:37:00.000-07:00

Oh, Michael.
God bless and watch over your children in Joe Jackson's house. I am praying for them.

michael

2009-06-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

It doesn't matter who or what you believe Michael Jackson was in his life, he was always a child of God and a hugely talented musician and artist. And now that he's gone, the world will finally give him some peace. That's all he wanted and now God will provide it. Michael, thank you for sharing your enormous gifts with us. Thank you for being the first music I ever fell in love with. From the first moment of "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" on my little cassette player in 1983, I have always loved Michael Jackson and I always will. I have a small hole in my heart now. He was family to me. God bless his children, friends, fans and family.

The Black Dog

2009-06-07T13:21:00.001-07:00

Never give in. Never give in. Never, never, never, never–in nothing, great or small, large or petty–never give in, except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never yield to force. Never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.

~ Winston Churchill

Oblivious

2009-03-27T13:24:00.000-07:00

RANT OF THE DAY: What is UP with guys who start their personal page off with telling everyone how GROWN they are. How much love they have for God and their personal growth. Then you scroll down the page. A fat-assed girl in Daisy Dukes looking over her shoulder is NOT a comment!!! Let me just tell you what that says to others who visit your page. It says you are "friends" with people who don't understand that it is inappropriate to show either your own bare a55 or a depiction of one to anyone but their significant other. It also says that you ( the page owner) also don't understand that it is inappropriate to leave it there. TAKE IT DOWN. If you care AT ALL what opinion a reasonably intelligent, God-loving, DECENT woman thinks of you. What would YOU think when you visit a woman's page (or home) and she's got pics of a shirtless Morris Chestnut or Dwayne Johnson plastered all over. Makes you think she's immature and kinda 5lutty, right? Of course it does. And nine times outta ten, she IS immature and 5lutty. Many people think the point of being grown is that you don't care what others think but the real secret to being grown is that you care what people think without letting it define you. By leaving those pictures on the page, you tell others exactly what to think of you. And we aren't thinking good things....

My New BFF

2009-02-26T17:01:00.000-08:00

I met my new best friend last night. I mean, I've known her for a long time but we never really felt that close and now it's like we clicked. I have to admit that I have always been quite judgemental towards her - second-guessing her decisions, questioning her parenting, not sure if I really wanted to spend the time and effort to get to know her better because sometimes she's WICKED bitchy. She's pretty much textbook tempermental - like Katy Perry says, you're hot then you're cold. I can't tell you what it is that I like so much about her now. Perhaps she has just grown on me and I've come to appreciate her finer points. Such as her constant respect for others in the face of overwhelming evidence that humans (and a few members of other species) are basically all assholes. Or maybe it's her undaunting, never-ending supply of one-liners, pop culture references, and quick-witted repartee. She can fit a song lyric into any conversation. She can make almost anyone smile. She has taken a lot of bullshit in her life but has learned to use it and learn from it. She knows a little bit about a lot of things. She has strong opinions, loves Asian food and can't do math. She is totally hopeless with directions. She ends up loving people who can't seem to love her back. She is crazy about her daughter but tries to play the Tough Mom who doesn't show it too much. I feel really positive about being her friend. She would never intenionally hurt me, although she has a temper and might say some wacked out shit when she's mad. She uses 3 and 4 syllable words when she really wants to put you in your place. It's hilarious. She takes a lot of pride in doing her job well and works hard at growing into a better employee. She is hurt easily but would never admit that to anyone. She masks all her sad feelings with anger and bitterness but she just wants to be understood. I understand her. She is me.

Personal Part Deux

2009-01-17T07:33:00.000-08:00

I posted a previous entry touching briefly on the topic of online personal ads and the websites which host them. There was a deeper tumor of thought in there, though, way down in the gray matter. The premise of a personals website is that the majority of people represent some version of normalcy. So what happens to the rest of us who by accident or design, are nowhere near the accepted understanding of normal? It's like high school again. This is the website for dorks, this one for the BBWs and their lovers, this one for single parents, this one Trekkies (so funny). None of them have figured out that some of us are all those things. I don't want to be pigeon-holed. Plus it cuts down on your dating pool. What happened to opposites attracting? For example, where is the part in the profile where you explain that while you may not be a supermodel, you are a wildcat in bed? You can't write that!! You will have all the pervs knocking down your online door to get to you for one good screw while the other disgruntled guys hound you with "fat cow" and "fat bitch" comments because they are pissed off about the fact that most skinny, pretty girls are shit in bed. Also, where is the section for things you would never admit to anyone, even with red-hot pokers under your fingernails? Like the fact that your grandfather still calls people "colored" and that your family may or may not have been slave owners? How is that gonna fly on Black Planet? That being said, the question of how much or how little to reveal to anyone has always been a fine line, even when your first date is on the Internet. Trust must be earned but then, how can someone trust you in return when they feel you are withholding information, too? Maybe there never is a "right time" and it's best to just let it all hang out. Isn't it game-playing to dole out tidbits of yourself on a time-managed basis? Maybe so, maybe no. One thing I will recommend to all those looking for love, though. READ "He's Just Not That Into You". Trust me, it's the perfect advice book. Funny AND true.

Entitlement Complex or How To Act Like A Toddler

2009-01-16T09:46:00.000-08:00

I am a former. A former smoker, former drug-user, former boyfriend doormat, former user of people. The only one I can really say shames me is the last one. All the other behaviors I have come to terms with and have completely erased from my life. I have to admit to still slipping up on that last one. I really REALLY make an effort, every day, to be aware of my needs and meet all of them myself. In my short and by no means excuse-making defense, I have untreated depression and anxiety. I deal with it the best I can. My previous experience with drugs used for the "management" of depression was not good, to say the least. That said, I have been known to get a little needy/whiny/pity-party on occasion. The thing is that I have been observing people engaging in behavior that goes way beyond your normal range of cutting someone a break and even just plain kindness. I have learned, through some very hard lessons, that the human being is a shameless opportunist. Some to a greater degree than others. I am not so naive as to believe in the goodness of those who no one is watching. What I am talking about is a complete and utter breakdown of laws, values, and appropriate behaviors and the attitudes of those involved in these behaviors. When you cut me off in traffic and endanger my life and my car, I am supposed to just keep calmly driving along? Yes, because if I do something about it, such as calling the police or following you to your destination to give you a piece of my mind, that makes me a tattle or a pyscho. When you "invent" a parking spot closer to the store or pull up into a fire lane for 15 minutes, does that mean that you feel the cold more than me or that you are in more of a hurry? No, you are an inconsiderate jerk who thinks that rules don't apply to him. If you truly needed to park closer for a legitimate reason, you would have a handicapped sticker. When you show up for a 3 PM appointment at 12:30 (true story), am I supposed to skip my lunch and catching up time to accomodate you? Yes, because there are 2 snowflakes outside and you are afraid to drive from your assisted living complex 1.75 miles away. Oh, did I mention that OBVIOUSLY you should do whatever you want, whenever you want because you are a senior citizen? Of COURSE you can be ureasonable and rude, you're 78 years old. What about people who wander into your store at 4:55 pm and loiter for 4 minutes and then want to try something on? Oh, you were at work until 4:30? Oh, you poor thing - let me hold your designer purse while my daughter waits for her dinner so you can try on a clearance rack sweater. SURE, I would love to calculate the clearance price for you off the top of my head at 5:17 pm. I know that taking 50% of the last price on the tag is VERY taxing for someone who is using all their energy being selfish, inconsiderate and ignorant. I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate my alternate answer of "I'm sorry, I am closing, we're open 7 days a week, Thursdays until 8 pm." I'd much rather you ditch your 2 year old in the middle of my store with a poopy diaper and a serious tantrum brewing while you run next door to another store to browse on your own. You're welcome. Oh, you didn't say thank you? Of course you didn't. My mistake.

Snow Flake

2008-12-20T10:06:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning to a snow lover's fantasy and realized that my dream of moving somewhere South will probably never come true. Now don't be sad..the truth is that I love snow. In the corniest, most romantic, lovey-dovey way. I look out my window and feel the glee of a school age kid who will be staying home while all the adults grumble off to work. I relish the frosted trees, the flakes drifting softly in the air, that squeaky crunch under your boots, and the unidentifiable smell (yes, smell) of snow. I cannot quite pinpoint the reason why snow gives me such a warm feeling. Am I associating it with a more innocent time in my life? Does fresh fallen snow make everything all right with the world? Is it Christmas, Norman Rockwell, and all New England winter cliches rolled into one? YES. It is also the graphic starkness of the dark branches covered in white powder, the tunnel feeling when driving down a street lined with such trees, the silliness of a daschund in a red sweater plowing through a snowbank, the possibility that you may HAVE to stay home all night and watch movies. Snow is a great equalizer. We all have to dig out, scrape off, stamp feet, thaw cheeks, and drive slowly. Some driving a little more slowly than needed (SNOWPOKES!!) It forces all of us to switch things up a bit. I was huffing and puffing after digging out and scraping this morning. Snow - my trainer. And in defense of snow, to all those grumbling and moaning about the minimal 2-3 feet we got here in Rhode Island, there's always Florida. Move there and stop grousing already. TEAM SNOW FOREVER!

Hi -FRICKIN- larious!!!

2008-12-11T05:21:00.000-08:00

"All white people believe that they prefer listening to jazz over watching television. This is not true."

-from a blog called Stuff White People Like

I want to be this blog when I grow up, along with White Trash Mom & Dooce.

Poor Economy

2008-11-30T15:28:00.000-08:00

It's a funny thing that happens when you are poor and have been for a while. You learn to do without and to be creative with your money. Not terrible skills to have. So when the economy of the nation takes a dive, your life doesn't really change that much. I have not lost anything in the stock market, I have no property that is losing value by the day, I use public transportation sometimes and when I don't, I have a crappy imported car (that I own) with the best gas mileage in it's class. I have always shopped at resale stores and Dollar Tree. I don't buy steak and aged wines. I don't throw parties or buy elaborate gifts. I don't spend my entire year's earnings on Christmas and then spend the next year trying to play catch up. My job is secure because my career is in resale, which is only getting better due to those who ARE affected by the poor (ha ha) economy. Those who maybe would not consider resale are now in a position to think again. It is kind of like being the guy who already knows all the tricks. It's hard not to be smug and self-satisfied. I am poor because I value other things over money, which sounds really smug and self-satisfied but it isn't. It's something I just have become accustomed to. Like the poor economy.

Oh No You Di'in't Part Two

2008-10-24T15:56:00.000-07:00

I met the most miserable woman in America on Wednesday. She could have knocked Kathy out of that Misery role in half a sec. She even looked miserable. Have you ever taken one look at someone and said to yourself...Oooh, shit. Yeah, that kind of face. Well, I work in a clothing consignment store. A large part of my job involves looking through other people's clothes and deciding which to accept for the store. It is interesting to note that the ones with the most tasteful clothes are the ones who bring everything in impeccable condition, leave you alone to look, don't question you on your choices and are generally pretty agreeable people. I never knew you could judge PEOPLE by their covers. So this horrible woman shows up and immediately gets bent out of shape that I cannot attend to her FIVE MINUTES AGO. She came early, which as I recently learned, is the norm for this business. Side note: Emily Post states that those who show up early for appointments must not expect to be served UNTIL the time of the appointment. Misery Lady did NOT read Emily Post. So after interrogating me on whether I remember setting the appointment with her, I try to explain politely that we book as many as 5-8 appointments a day as well as calling back to confirm, I don't remember her specifically. She insists she spoke to me and it seems REAALLY important to her to be right so okay, you talked to me. I am already exhausted. So we walk over to take a look and I notice right away that most of her items are wrinkled. We ask for everything to come in washed, pressed, on hangers because we put everything out right away, no steaming, no pressing. She argues that she just tossed it all in the back of her car. Not your best idea, probably. So after rejecting a good 3/4 of her stuff for various reasons (mostly wrinkles from being tossed in the back of the car), she starts pushing me about why am I not taking this and this and this. I explain about her womens' suits, that we aren't selling them very quickly and have decided to stop taking any for the moment. She then explains to me that the reason that we are not selling suits is (direct quote) "Rhode Island is a blue-collar state and none of the women here are educated". First of all, WHAT?? Secondly, YOU live here, you idiot. No, really, it gets better. She then yanks out a pair of pants. High-waisted, tapered leg, SILK pants. With belt loops. And wrinkled. I try to keep a straight face as I explain that we are trying to stay with current fashions within the past 3 years. She looks me up and down (I am not kidding) and says: (direct quote) "Where do YOU shop?" Did your jaw drop yet? This lady was for REALS, y'all. She was NOT PLAYIN'. Would it surprise you to know that while she was explaining that she is a lawyer (shocker!) she also stated that she had gained weight after an accident. She looked at me when she said "gained weight". (I am a big, curvy woman.) I swear this was a test from GOD. I was waiting for the little devil from Hell Date or maybe Ashton to come tell me I was being Punk'd. I wish... So after finally convincing her that 4 pieces of clothing and 2 tiny Coach bags was all I wanted from her, she then stood there taking mental note of what I took. Then she asked me when she could pick up the unsold items. That would be NEVER. Because when you made the appointment with ME (YES!! VICTORY IS MINE!!) I read you the policy which states that any unsold items after 90 days get donated to charity. After another argument in which she tried to convince me that she should be the exception and I told her this may not be the right place for her (Oh yes, I did!), she finally took back the 2 tiny Coach bags (the kind cheap people obsessed with labels buy to make you think they are not cheap and obsessed with labels)because GOD FORBID someone from a charity should get Coach, even though she doesn't want them because (direct quote) " They are my daughter's - My daughter is a Goth". I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. I forgot to mention to her that we have MANY Coach lovers who would have snapped those babies up at the first price, the first day they were on the floor. Oops! So sorry. Then I had to ask her 3 times to come sign the contract and when she finally saunters over to the desk, she tells my boss (loudly) that the only suit I took was the cheapest one she brought. Hilarious moment for me because my boss didn't hear us earlier and Misery had to listen to the no suits reason AGAIN. Nanny nanny boo boo.. So she signed the contract for her 4 measly items (which is under our minimum but please God, make it stop) and then I went to label her things to be put away. She was in the middle of reading the contract (oh yeah) and says to my boss "I want to see her do it -I want to make sure she is taking the right things." As my friend Lori would say, is she kidding herself? Lady, I ALREADY rejected all your ugly, wrinkled stuff. Do you really think I'm going back for the MC Hammer pants and try to sneak them in with the cheap suit? Yeah, I'm drooling over your dumb little Coach mini-bag. I'm gonna try to steal it from you AT MY PLACE OF WORK IN FRONT OF YOU AND MY BOSS. AS you can see, I am still in recovery from the PTSD this Person gave me. If God has any sense of humor at ALL, he will make this lady gain way more weight so she will be forced to shop at Lane Bryant for cheap suits with the rest of us uneducated women in RI AND when she ends up in the ER for stress-related heart failure (from being such a BITCH all the time), her attending nurse will be someone she treated just like me, with a looong memory for faces.

Selfish AND Stupid

2008-10-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

If that uninformed, undereducated, fake smiley, redneck BITCH Sarah Palin had even an ounce of integrity, self-respect, dignity, or class, she would have already stepped down from her "appointment" as John McCain's VP. Of course, if she HAD any of those qualities, she would be a Democrat.

Personal

2008-10-04T13:14:00.000-07:00

The other day I came across a Dear Abby type letter in the local newspaper from a woman who was looking for advice on how to answer people who ask her how she and her fiance met. She met him online and doesn't want to tell anyone that. There is an astonishing mix of weird stuff going on here. Firstly, if you don't want to tell, then don't, you big baby. In the words of Napoleon Dynamite, GOSH! Okay, Item 2, who cares where you met the guy, stop being such a whiner, you are fucking engaged!!(And, um...I'm not.) Item 3, who in 2008 thinks it shameful to post a profile online and meet someone? It's not in the same category as pole-dancing, ya know. Item 4 is sort of a longer train of thought. Here goes. Personal websites operate on the principle that you are average. That you embody normalcy. There are no boxes to check for "has road rage over non-usage of blinker" or "sometimes plays Mystery Science Theater 3000 with Spanish soap operas". These sites are for boring people. People who decorate out of Target, have cats named Fluffy and go see blockbuster Hollywood movies on the weekend. So just the fact that you, Miss Boring, found Mister Boring is not really news to anyone. It's sad and cliche, really. I would be way more interested in hearing how the Cray-cray meet each other. How Farrah Fawcett hair with more jewelry than Mister T met short, pinky ring, too much cologne. I wanna see THAT Love Connection, Chuck Woolery. What keeps them together? What do they fight over? Where is that bar and when does it open? I'm there.

Matt Lauer, Alpha Male?

2008-10-02T06:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, so WHAT was THAT this morning, Matt Lauer? Why did you have to be such a tool to that nice lady talking about going green? Are you suddenly AGAINST the green movement? Where did your pleasant manner go, sir? You also seem to have left your sense of humor in your other slacks. I was shocked, really. I mean, it would be like Al Roker suddenly just losing his shit and calling Ann Curry a cunt - yes, THAT word - that is how weird it was. The poor woman wrote a book about being greener at home and Matt was interrogating her like they found 50 people steaks in her freezer. Her son went to the hospital, for goodness sake. Give the lady a break. For those who didn't see this, try youtube or maybe NBC.com. He went after this lady like he was a pit bull and this lady was tearing out the throats of his young. He interrupted, he badgered, he raised his voice multiple times, he was openly hostile. I just can't fathom what the issue was. I know he is pissy lately because Meredith is stealing his thunder and asking for more money but taking it out on the guests is just unreasonable and unprofessional. Shame, Matt Lauer, shame on you. Please go back to bed and get up on the other side tomorrow. Thank you.

Oh No You Di'int

2008-09-29T15:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Overgrown Boy- Yes, you, sitting next to me at the public library. The same guy that gave me an up and down when I approached the computer next to you and then made the annoyed face at me when I sat down. What POSSIBLE problem could you have with me? You look vaguely familiar...have we both been to this library before? Well, anyway, what I have to say is this. I was just minding my bee, reading passive-aggressive notes.com, and I had a small, library-type snort over a comment posted there. I will admit, it grew into a slightly uncontained giggle but I got it under control. It was not truly disruptive, nor did it cause multiple head turns. So why the dramatic sigh? I know that sigh very well. I have a 12 year old who thinks she is GOD. It is the sound of someone completely fed up with you and your antics, thank you very much. Someone NOT amused. Dear Public Library Man, no need to hate. I can recommend some very funny websites if you have lost your sense of humor today. Or perhaps we could share a moment of solidarity about Heavy Typer in the next cubicle, shaking our whole table unit with his emails. Whaddya say? Friends? Don't make me write another blog entry about assholes again, okay? Thanks.

Project Runway, Season BORING

2008-09-24T17:02:00.000-07:00

Maybe it was too soon, producers. Maybe you got lucky with Christian and his fierce geniusness. Maybe I already KNOW that geniusness is not a word but somehow genius just doesn't quite satisfy. It's a half a sandwich word. It's kinda snotty and fake British sounding, too. Okay, on topic. It's okay with me that Joe went home. Joe is a very nice man with a mullet who is stuck in the eighties. I almost heard Miami Vice theme music every time I saw him. Plus he has no fashion sense and can't sew. And I was really, really over his ogling of Heidi. Yes, we KNOW...she's a supermodel. Does that mean that she needs to endure the up and down from you every time she is within 25 feet of you? Jesus, man, get over it. Buy a Playboy. It's also okay that Blayne went home and took his extra-crazyliciousness with him. To paraphrase "Television Without Pity", what casting genius put him on the show? Oops! I have no use for Suede. No talent, no skills, no connection with reality. He doesn't even have a personal style. Um, that might be a hint that he shouldn't be dressing other people? Heidi hates Kenley. We all kinda do at this point. Would someone please invent a female equivalent to TOOL because that is what Kenley is? Even her name sounds like some kind of pretentious penny loafer. Oh, these?, tra la la, these are just my old Kenleys for kicking around the cottage in Newport. Whiny, obnoxious, one hit wonder. Korto and Jerell are pretty decent designers but they both suffer from a lack of personality. Lighten up, it's just fashion! Sad to say but this season has been so disappointing, I'm not even that sorry I don't have cable. When is Top Chef coming back?

Moving In & Moving On

2008-09-08T14:22:00.001-07:00

There are few things in life more difficult, time-consuming and never-ending than moving. It is a process that takes weeks, sometimes months to accomplish and then, more weeks and months to settle in. My recent move was the most bittersweet one I've ever experienced...and this is saying something because I have moved A LOT. 4 times in the past year alone. Mostly due to a problematic landlord and financial woes. Anyway, I am someone who is both horrified and excited by change. I dislike the whole idea of change because change usually involves some kind of nasty surprise, if not MANY. Seriously. Then there is the part about letting go of the old and ushering in the new. For someone with financial woes, ushering in the new always involves ushering out way too many twenties for my taste (or budget!) But the letting go of the old...aaahh..hurts so good. Finally, an excuse to stop seeing a certain person because I don't live 5 minutes away anymore. It is more difficult (and more costly) to visit this person who is toxic. There are also boxes of items I haven't seen in over a year. It is easy to discard these items knowing that if they were really beloved, I would have missed them earlier than now. Also that if they are discarded, that is (in theory) one less box next time I move. Which will be never. (ha!) I really REALLY miss the city. More than I thought I would. I am not the same person here in polite small town world. I spend more on everything, I turn my music down, I feel uprooted and isolated. I am not with my people. My people meaning people of color. I know, I know, not supposed to go there but it's true. Too many white people make me nervous and I find them really, really BORING. It will change, of course, but I can't help feeling deja vu. I felt this way before living in a small town. I hope that it will improve. Somehow I turn into an introvert here, when I am by nature an extrovert. Perhaps that is something else that needs to change. Was I more "me" in Providence? Where is that woman now? Maybe when I am done moving in, I can move on and she will appear. Here's hoping...

Dear Old Man

2008-08-29T05:57:00.000-07:00

Your opinion does not matter to me anymore. I don't care if you think I am a loser or stupid or fat. I am not angry that you could not love me, I am angry that you could not show compassion for someone who loved you. You have no love for yourself so you love no one else. I have lived with anger and sadness so I know how it feels. The difference between you and me is that I am interested in learning, growing, changing, moving on. You are interested in remaining where you are and thinking others should mold themselves around you. You are interested in abusing others to make yourself feel bigger. I am glad that you are no longer in my life. I hope that someday a light comes on in your heart and you can be happy.

City Mouse, Country Mouse

2008-08-18T14:31:00.001-07:00

I have been living in the big, bad city of Providence for a few years now. I grew up in and then lived in a series of unremarkable small towns. I've noticed some interesting differences in behavior. When in line(any line will do -bank teller, grocery store, getting gas) there is a certain protocol to the city line as opposed to the country line. In a city line, someone WILL BE standing too close, yelling swears/sex details into their cell phone, or beating their unruly kids - the ole turn around and stare/glare move will not work at all and in some cases, may be a VERY, VERY bad idea. This is because their business is their business and also, they could have a gun. When driving in the city, go where you need to go, don't f#$% around about it, watch out for kids and strollers and just move your ass. Other rules include tail-gating, really good speakers and barely missing the parked cars as you whiz by. Country drivers are uh..polite? -stopping at crosswalks on green lights, pulling in front of you and then going 15 mph, weaving out 2700 feet over the yellow line for a kid that's taller than the car, letting others into a huge line of traffic (on a green light!!) and stopping (full stop) on Main St. to talk to Betty from next door. I tell you what - you try that shit on my city street, your life will be OVER. After you lose your hearing from the horns and the curses in 3 languages. I recently discovered that I am a true city person after an incident at a small town gas station. This gas station has been the cheapest gas around for weeks now and always has a line. WE city folk are good at lines - we are patient because we practice all the time, but no cutting and no sob stories. Save it, sister, we were here first. So I pull in and park strategically, making it clear that I am next for pump 1. I had pulled over to the side enough that, if needed, an emergency vehicle or some alpha type who couldn't get out the other exit could get by. This is also a part of "city thinking". Suddenly, on my left, between me and the pump, looms a huge red pickup with a boat trailer. He's shouting something and gesturing. Um, hi...can I explain sumsing to joo, senor? I was here first. It is not my problem you have a giant vehicle with another giant vehicle strapped on behind it and you decided you would pull those things into a crowded gas station where there was not room for you. This is called bad judgement on your part. Now you expect me to back up so you can pull up to the front pump, effectively blocking both pumps with your big penis attached to another penis...oh,I mean, TRUCK & BOAT. Which basically is the same thing as cutting me in line. Um, no. Not happening, pal. Which I explained to him in some subtle sign language involving pulling up and cutting him off as soon as my spot opened up. Now in the city, someone trying this bullshit would have let it go, realizing he was in the wrong or maybe just wondering if I had a gun..hee hee. You know what penis-puller did? That's right. He roared into position at pump 3 in front of me, not only blocking me in (with my 9 gallon tank which takes 5 minutes to fill) but also blocking the other end of the pump island, which is the only other exit. JACKASS!!! I did what any self-respecting city-dweller would do. I strolled to the cashier, paid for my gas, pumped, got in my car, did a 17 point turn to get out (thanks a lot, old dude behind me with the frickin' DeVille) and pulled in front of him with an inch to spare..nice and slooooow. With Spanish music playing LOUD, sipping leisurely on my water, arm out the window. Waiting. 'Cause we city folk are experts at waiting (see above). But then, there was break in traffic and I had to get to work anyway. So he yells at me to have a nice day and I tell him to shove his sarcasm up his ass (sorry small kids and elderly). And then I went on with my day...that's the other thing the city teaches you. Get over it quick, 'cause there is always another asshole around the next corner ready to mess with you.

Update on Self-checkout

2008-07-23T12:55:00.000-07:00

I used self checkout to buy a banana for 29 cents. I am ashamed and contrite.

Self Checkout

2008-06-23T15:01:00.000-07:00

There are few things in the world that throw me into an immediate, irrational fit of rage than self-checkout. I truly believe that not only is it economically unsound (replacing people with machines) but also, PURE EVIL. Yes, I have some tendencies toward the dramatic but this is really how I feel. The premise seems really, really GREAT! No more lines. No more check-writing grannies. No more whiny toddlers teetering dangerously out of the cart for c-a-n-d-y. No more Pimply Goth Boy with Eye-hiding Bangs ignoring that you are standing there AND have a pulse, yet keeping up a non-stop dialogue with Muffin-Top WAY Too Much Eyeshadow Girl who is supposed to be bagging. Right? WRONG. None of these things have actually gone away - they are right over there on aisle 2 and to me, comforting and familiar after the horror of self-checkout. I will take the Retard Checker over self-checkout any damn day of the week. Why, you ask? Because self-checkout is not only NOT any easier than the Dueling Teens on aisle 2, it's actually HARDER. That's right, harder. There are never any lines for them because they SUCK!! First, you have to juggle where to put all your stuff while attempting to begin your transaction. REMOVE ALL ITEMS FROM THE SCANNER SCALE!!! Jesus, lady, okay! Is there anything more humiliating than having a machine reprimand you? I'll put all my shit on the floor..the single dirtiest place in here. I don't have my "savings" card so now I have to wait for the "attendant" (insert irony here) to punch in a number for me. Here's a bright idea - attach a card on a string right next to the scanner. Or even better, automatically give EVERYONE harassing themselves with self-checkout a freebie. I know, rocket science. Okay. Now. I am purchasing plantains. REMOVE ALL ITEMS FROM THE SCANNER SCALE!! WTF? Doesn't produce get weighed? Hello? The attendant is giving me a dirty look from under her highlighted Claw Bangs. Oh, sorry, these are plantains, not bananas. CAN I GET A PRICE CHECK? AND A VOID? I am biting my tongue. Oh, they are priced per each. Great. So, now something with a barcode. Yes! Or...no. Won't scan. I am doing the Hokey Pokey Bar Code dance with my Oreos. Put the right corner in..put the left corner in and you shake it all about.("Should that fat lady even be buying those?" - thinks the next victim in self-checkout breathing down my neck). PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE. Gee, thanks, scarily pleasant-voiced automated lady, I'll do that. Claw Bangs scans it in one swipe. Of course she does. Then she just does the rest of my order to save the person on my neck from a heart attack. Because we all know self-checkout is FASTER. PLEASE INSERT COINS, THEN INSERT BILLS. Okay, that's just ass-backwards and no one can deny it. If I tried that shit in a regular retail situation, you would assume I am a) retarded or b) from somewhere in Eastern Europe that doesn't use money. Claw Bangs has put my 14 items into 14 different plastic bags and is staring at me. Um, I brought my own reusable bags but now I am afraid to use them for fear that Claw and Mouth-Breather will tag-team me to the ground for wasting more of their precious seconds. Okay, finish and pay. Finally. REMOVE ALL ITEMS FROM THE SCANNER SCALE! What? Oh. I have rested the tiniest, teensiest corner of my purse on the scale. Holding my purse in mid-air, I forage for my wallet, then my EBT card, then (gasp!) I have bought something that requires cash. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! A two-headed transaction. Blink. Blink. Self-checkout is actually a MASTER at this. The one thing at which self-checkout excels. Praise God. I walk down to my 14 bags and sigh with relief. Oh, shit, my receipt. I glance back, consider my health, and keep on walkin'. This, my friends, is a true story. Since my first foray, I have never used self-checkout again. It does tempt me on occasion and I have even been recruited by well-meaning supermarket staff but alas , I cannot succumb. I just know it would never work between us.

Still

2008-06-10T11:11:00.000-07:00

"Still is still moving to me.
I swim like a fish in the sea all the time,
And if that's what it takes to be free, I don't mind.
Still's still moving to me. -Willie Nelson

I would certainly post the rest of this song if I could remember all the words...and didn't think I would lose my reader. (Hi, Jim!) I've actually never heard the original song and I hope that I'm crediting Willie correctly. The version I have is on a Toots & The Maytals CD - Toots and Willie together - it's awesome. The amazing thing about music is that it can mean something different to each person who hears it but also, that even though you may hear a different song (and maybe a different message) we can still agree that it's a great piece of music. That's really f@#$ing cool! This particular song is my shout-out to all those who insist that things are only done one way. That there IS only one way - all other "ways" are not ways at all and also, AGAINST GOD. Really, this kind of rigid thinking is responsible for how many horrible things in the world now? I've lost count. This song also means that sometimes action is not really necessary or advised - it's just working up a sweat. You may argue (for health reasons) that working up a sweat is not a bad thing. Okay, but have you ever seen a toddler on a sugar rush? Is anything constructive coming from all that energy? No. Those people who are "rushers", they flit about like birds in a hedge, they are HERE, they are THERE, they can't sit still. If you don't have a structured purpose or you are feeling confused, action only makes you tired. Some of us "mullers" (you know, those who mull) would argue that preserving our energies for later decisive use is more prudent. And we would be right..know why? Because we mullers do things differently! (gasp!) (I do enjoy a nice set of parentheses...yes, I do.) Increasingly, it seems, mullers are becoming more and more extinct. Amongst the multi-taskers of the next few generations, I'm a freaking brontosaurus - using my cell phone to....make a phone call. There is something to be said for slower progress, taking your time to decide, using your past experience to guide you. I am feeling more and more able to relate to my older family members. In this world of quick fixes and cheap, disposable material goods, I stand alone with the Depression years folks and the immigrants...waiting patiently in lines without throwing a tantrum, cooking a meal from scratch and enjoying it at a table without TV, using the last teaspoon of shampoo, reading books and watching sunsets. It is hard for me to be thoughtful and frugal if I am rushing. You call it wasting time - I call it placing value on my time. Just because I am still doesn't mean I am stagnant. Run your race, rabbits...we turtles will be along later. See you there.

Knowledge

2008-06-04T10:46:00.000-07:00

It's not unconditional love I'm after. It's unconditional knowledge. I want someone to know me so well that it doesn't matter what I say or do - they will know the truth of me anyway. They will know me well enough to see that my anger is fleeting but not my memory. They will know that I never feel like I belong, that I fit in anywhere. They will know that I love fashion magazines but having a subscription takes all the fun out of spending the gas money on them. They will know that I don't sleep at night because I worry that I have done, will do (always) everything the wrong way. To show the ugly, scared and maybe dishonorable things inside yourself is not love - it's a very precarious kind of trust. Some say trust and love are the same. They are not. Many people in my life I have not trusted but have loved, and because I loved them, I only showed them what they could handle. I only gave them what they wanted so they would feel comfortable. I do not trust them to know me unconditionally. I don't think they are up to the task. I'm not sure I am either.

Green Grass

2008-06-04T10:40:00.000-07:00

When I see you (ugly) with your..
BOYFRIEND!
I want to pull your (long) straggly hair from your dirty scrunchy.
I want to tell you what I really think of your stretch pants (screaming, spit flying).
I want
SO BAD!
To understand how YOU! (??!!)
You
HAVE (!!) a boyfriend
and I do not.

Former Smoker

2008-05-15T08:45:00.000-07:00

You know how they say (and it's sometimes true) that former smokers are the most self-righteous, the most vehement, the most serious opponents to smoking? Although I happen to be a former smoker, I don't go there. If asked about quitting and/or my experience with it, I will advise one thing. USE THE DRUGS - all of them, as many as you can safely take at once! My daughter still gets a scared look on her face when asked how I was when I quit - cold turkey, no drugs, no patch, nothing but a handful of tea tree oil toothpicks. It was not pretty. I will never smoke again because I would never quit again. Hands down, hardest thing I've done so far and that's including childbirth. Point is, it's always easy to tell someone how to do stop doing something. From the safe, smug vantage point of having done it already. That's why I do not point fingers. Even when the words "I told you so" are burning craters in my tongue. People will learn things in their own time, their own way - or they won't. You will have nothing to do with it. I had the recent glorious experience of an old friend tell me I had been absolutely right about some advice I had given him. There was certainly a moment when I could have looked him in the eye and took the credit - but I didn't. I was genuinely happy for him because HE was so happy. He chose to change for the better. He did it because it was the best thing for him, not just because I told him to. The same goes in reverse - you cannot give advice and then get mad when it isn't taken. If I had a penny for all the well-meant pieces of advice given me, let's just say - I would have a lotta pennies. A person in a difficult situation must want to change the situation. They must want it more than anything else. Sometimes you have to stand aside and watch someone pull themselves out of a hole and if it is someone you care about, it's excruciating. I give my family and friends a lot of credit for their distance and detachment. It's a funny thing to thank someone for but it has helped me to stand alone and to learn to do for myself. That is an invaluable gift. So I say thank you...And to those who think I will be doing their work for them, living their lives for them, helping them out of a tight spot - sorry, ain't happenin, sistah. This girl knows how to fish - get your own pole.

Jealous

2008-04-15T12:28:00.001-07:00

I don't call you a skinny bitch in my head. (sometimes)
I don't envy you your thicker hair and smaller boobs. (Tuesdays)
I don't covet your designer shoes, credit card, cushy job, new car. (middle of the night)
I am jealous of your faith. (how can you believe?)
I envy your innocence, your belief in goodness. (why do you believe?)
I covet the way you can still think everything will be okay. (when will it be okay?)
I am jealous of you because I cannot imagine those things today. (where will it be okay?)
Or most other days. (never)
Sad, jaded, with an breath of hope (wheezy and smoke-filled)
That you will not become (ever)
Like me. (who)

The Answer

2008-04-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

The answer is that there is no answer. Just like the phone of someone who you REALLY wanted to speak to...it just keeps ringing and ringing and ringing. So the next thing you do is....something else, right? Because no matter what you do, you are not getting the answer. Why is it so hard to accept no answer? Is it an American thing? We, who are obsessed with quick fixes and instant gratification? Who are also obsessed with making things ten times harder than they need to be and refusing to admit our mistakes? Is it cultural influence or is the blaming of our own flaws on our culture the problem itself? Okay then. What next? It seems that many, many people (scientists, pyschiatrists, religious figures, my mom) seem to think that they have the answer. Specifically, the answer to why I can't find any answers. Seems that the problem is, well, me. That I am who I am. They all agree that if only I was someone else, things would be fine. Yes, that DOES sound ridiculous but don't tell them that - this is serious business here. Just wipe away your depression with a clean sponge and/or some expensive drugs and all will be well. Just join Weight Watchers and your life will magically repair itself. Just change every single thing about yourself because obviously, "you" is not working out. They would love to downsize me in every way possible and make room for someone else. OUCH! Nothing like rejection to make you re-evaluate EVERYTHING. The question then becomes, do you change and if so, are you really doing it for yourself? Isn't changing yourself to avoid rejection from others the same thing as conforming to a standard that others set? If you are truly comfortable with yourself, then you won't care if others reject you....I wish it were that simple. I wish that was an answer.

Yes, I'm Still Angry

2008-04-10T09:30:00.000-07:00

A few years back, I was in a business relationship with a certain high quality food company. I was the go-to artist when the company needed something new, was updating something old, or generally just wanted feedback/art direction. Unfortunately, I was so happy to be creating artwork for this or any company and *gasp* getting paid for it that I lay down and became the art doormat. Or bent over and took it up the ass. Whichever image makes you more uncomfortable, that's the most accurate one. I still cringe when I think of my puppy eagerness and desire to please. I became the artist equivalent of the battered wife. I said yes to everything, I lowered my artistic standards in favor of "marketing", I took snarky, mean-spirited comments from people who wanted to be me but couldn't, I offered advice that was sneered at and ignored, I took the blame for poor decision making and mismanagement of projects, I repainted, reworked, gave away free design advice, art direction, copywriting and food critique. Worst of all, I did everything on the honor system. No contract, no down payment, no guarantee whatsoever that any of my artwork would be used at all, much less paid for. I know! I'm shaking my head, too. What was I thinking? Well, I was thinking- these people are family friends, they won't dick me over. WRONG!! ANYONE will do whatever they can to get something they want from you and if they think they can get it free - well, that's all good, isn't it? I should clarify. ANYONE meaning people who have no conscience, no character, no integrity. Long story short, the last straw was when I painted a series of new product paintings "on spec" - which in our dysfunctional relationship meant that whatever I did was great, let's use it, sight unseen! You know the part in Cat in the Hat where the cat balances everything on his tail. Of course it will fall - how ludicrous to think otherwise. Lo and behold, I painted something this lady didn't like. By this lady, I mean the founder of the company, funny how some people have marketing people for managing art projects, can anyone say control freak? Here's the funny part though. This lady expressed her vehement disapproval of the artwork, decided that she would pay me "what she thought they were worth", which was far less then I normally charged, then goes ahead and uses the artwork anyway. Of all the sneaky, underhanded..I'm still speechless. Now this all happened years ago, as I said, but what do you think I found today? A complete re-design of the site, using MY ARTWORK all over the home page. Hmm. And under the FAQ's, no mention by name of ANY of the many, many artists who have contributed to their look over the years. Instead the founder states herself as a collaborator with the artist(s). Bitch, please. I don't consider being ripped off and plagarized as a "collaboration". So you know what? Lollipop Tree, you wrong, you know you wrong, and God doesn't sleep.

for Justin...

2008-04-04T08:15:00.000-07:00

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;
and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you
are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart
(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

Justin - You still speak to me and I am grateful every day for all you have given me. I have learned so much from you about the power of love. This poem reminds me of the way your mom always carries you with her. I cannot know how hard it is for her - I only know how much she loves you still. See you at the next rainbow! Love, Kim

happy freakin birthday to me

2008-04-01T08:29:00.000-07:00

Turning 34 scares the shit out of me. 34 is somehow WAAAY older than 33. 34 is too old to learn skateboarding. 34 is too late to have completely inappropriate younger boyfriends. 34 has the burden of knowing what you don't want but not quite getting what you do want. 34 looks different on a woman than on a man. (why?) 34 is probably never getting married. Even if that doesn't really bother you, it's there. 34 is looking like a candidate for What Not To Wear. 34 is not understanding the programming on MTV anymore. 34 is sometimes taking things too seriously because sometimes things are serious. 34 is one year away from life as a "young person" being so over. 34 is being "Ma'am"ed, if it hasn't happened already. 34 is lipstick bleeding outside of the lipline and wrinkly eyelids and hoping yesterday's eye makeup is still there because no makeup does NOT fly anymore. 34 is skin treatments, SPF 30 and skirted bathing suits. 34 is when high school kids look like babies. 34 is knowing that good food or a good career is not found at Dunkin Donuts. 34 is understanding exactly where a lack of education will get you. 34 references pop culture from the 80's in a pathetic way. 34 is insane, irrational, emotional statements about aging which are only partly, but heart-breakingly often enough, true.

Since When?

2008-03-14T08:46:00.000-07:00

Since when is it okay to swear in public? LOUDLY. Have I finally turned that corner from fresh, hip older-ish person to senior citizen complete with crepey eyelids and a serious attitude problem with EVERYONE? Seriously, though...People are cussing left and right, in the grocery store, walking through the mall, waiting to get Chinese food, on the street. I am astounded by the sheer volume and variety of offenders. I am not really surprised by the language issuing from 15 year-old Homie McDroopyPants at the mall, however, I have to wonder - does his mother know about it and if she did, would she even care enough to address it? I am much more surprised by the people of my generation committing this act of rudeness and indecency. Yes, I said indecency. How is it we still consider it indecent that young girls wear short skirts and too much makeup, yet it's okay that their mothers fling the F-bomb around in Dollar Tree for no apparent reason other than for emphasis. The only way you would EVER hear me drop that kind of language in a public place, in the presence of the elderly and children, would be if my legbone suddenly snapped, or the entire building caved in on my head. Are these adults doing this to appear younger? Are they simply ignorant of the ramifications of this behavior? Here's the thing: what's next? If this is now allowable, how long before people start throwing feces at each other and copulating in public, too? It has always been a fine line here in America, between brash and plucky to just plain asshole. The truth is that people will do exactly what they can get away with - no more or less. They will behave in the manner that others allow them to. I do not allow it - in my home or elsewhere. I speak up because I believe I have a right to NOT hear that kind of "free speech". Don't care if you agree with me... I'm brash and plucky like that.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2007-12-21T08:42:00.000-08:00

1) My kid's holiday concert has been scheduled for 10:00. PM. On Christmas Eve. Dear God. I was not informed of this until yesterday. See #7 below.
2) I have not done ANY shopping yet.
3) I can't drink to dull the pain because I have to drive all over God's creation.
4) My aunt will probably ask me when I'm going to lose the baby weight. My daughter is 11.
5) Everything has cheese in it. I am lactose intolerant.
6) I found myself laughing with glee when the Grinch stole the roast beast.
7) I can't sleep.
8) I want to strangle Anne Murray.
9) Caffeine is not working anymore, except at night. See #7.

If anyone has any helpful suggestions other than calling me a Scrooge, please tell me before I go completely over the edge.

Small Things, Large Package

2007-11-26T13:36:00.000-08:00

While spending time at my sister's house over Thanksgiving, I was browsing unashamedly through her mail. Hey, I'm allowed mail access because my sister and I share a love of catalogs & magazines - those addictive, glossy volumes of mostly ads with sometimes helpful fashion and other assorted tips thrown in. The smell of the paper, the risque ads selling drool-for shoes, the celebrity gossip, aaahh...As Miranda once said on Sex and the City, "it's my thing - get over it". Mixed in with my paper drugs of choice is the monthly newsletter from our old prep school in NH. Yes, I said prep school, not perp school. It's a truth I don't always share - kinda messes up my street cred. Prep school and I were not good friends. Let's just throw that out there now. Many of my experiences there we can file under "ugly and excrutiatingly painful teen angst" - as a result of not only being a "fac brat" (a child of a faculty member) but also a "rebel" and "different" - meaning that I did NOT wear Lilly Pullitzer, have expensive blonde highlights, a house in the Hamptons, or my own BMW nor did I ever wish for those things. I had piercings and listened to the Cure. I did not fit in and was fine with it. The WASPs have a very insidious way of making someone uncomfortable without overtly insulting you. It is somehow both underhanded and obvious. It is a gift they learn from their parents and you can't ever accuse them of anything. Very frustrating. So as I am opening the cover, preparing to be NOT surprised at the accomplishments of my fellow classmates, I find myself reading a really great article about a former teacher and friend of my father's. He is retiring from both teaching and coaching. A large man whom most would assume is just your average former football star and nuthin' special...he is special. He writes poetry. Good poetry. He loves his wife and family. He worked hard all his life and gave all of himself to others. An admirable man. But what struck me the most and I am ashamed to say, surprised me the most, was something he said to his team when he first started. He asked them for their respect and their obedience. Then he went on to say that he expected them to give that same respect to the people who cleaned their dorm and made their food. How clever and thoughtful to remind a group of kids who probably had their own invisible bevy of servants at home that everyone deserves respect, not least those who serve others. I see that I underestimated Norm Walker probably as much as many other people did. And for that, I have learned that it is the small moments like that where a person's character truly shines. I'm sure Mr. Walker would not want any kudos for who he is or what he does, but great people never do. Thanks, Mr. Walker, retired or not, you will always be a teacher.

Definition of Me

2007-11-08T13:06:00.000-08:00

I don't like being defined. I wonder why the high school clique thing continues to adulthood. Is it just human nature to group ourselves into categories? To feel like we are part of some kind of soccer mom tribe, complete with traditional clothing and catch phrases? Is it just my rebellious nature that rejects this? My avoidance of other parents could be misconstrued as unfriendliness when it is actually a desire to be seen as an individual instead of a certain kind of mom. Don't get me wrong - I love to be MOM. It has been the best part of my life so far. But why can't a mom have tattoos, wear wacky clothes, and listen to metal without feeling like a comparision to Britney is a breath away? Why do I have to subscribe to either the ghetto or the WASP mentality that have both been huge influences in my life? I'll tell you why...Because I have discovered that by not picking a camp to belong to, I have been voted off the island by other moms. They don't know what to do with me - I can't stand the entitlement complex that many "economically challenged" moms have but I also can't stand the "educated" moms who think they are better than others and take things WAY too seriously. I fall into so many categories it's mind-boggling. This may sound like bragging but really, it's lonely. I don't mean to be picky but who has time to spend with people who make you feel like you are wearing a wool sweater with no undershirt? AAGGH... Someone should start a website for non-lesbian women seeking other women.. I know, there is this cool thing called the Interent but where to start? Any tips would be appreciated. Please send all replies to: Single White Mom of Multi Racial Child with Artistic Tendencies who Loves Music, Magazines, Cooking, Comedy, Books, and Has Tattoos. Also file under "overweight", "dates black men" and "lives in bad part of town". Oh, and don't forget sarcasm and can laugh at herself.

Red Sox Scrooge

2007-10-29T13:27:00.000-07:00

If I have to listen to "Sweet Caroline" one more freakin' time..... sigh*

You Can't Win Them All

2007-10-24T13:04:00.000-07:00

So I was trolling the Internet at work (grin*) and came across www.passiveaggressivenotes.com (I totally had to say that cheer-style to check my spelling - be aggressive! B-E aggressive! B-E-AGG...okay.) This is one of "those" sites. You know, the ones where people make snarky comments and then disappear into the great unknown of another website where they will do the same thing. Does anyone else see the irony of that ESPECIALLY on a site that is all about passive aggressive behavior? HA! Admittedly, I am one of those people. I rarely check back to see what kind of response I get from my psuedo-clever comment, not because I'm not curious, (oh you don't even know - I AM the proverbial dead cat and the term is "interested", not nosy, okay?), but mostly because I can't always remember what the site was and what page of the archives my comment was on. See? Just that last sentence was exhausting. I am all A.D.D. today. Unfortunately, there are those "regulars" whose latch onto a few different sites and really stick with it - responding to each and every comment someone makes in response to theirs, refreshing the page every 2 seconds, and generally making a Dwight Shrute (kiss -ass annoying pest) of themselves. So the passive - agressive note of the day was a work-fridge police kinda thing. Like, bring your stuff home, no large shopping bags, old food is not sanitary, etc.. The usual passive-aggressive M.O. - trying to boss everyone by "addressing" an issue that "affects everyone". You know these whiners are up at night composing these kind of things in their pointy heads. I am in full agreement with policing the fridge, by the way, it's a necessary evil which I was personally saddled with at one of my illustrious places of employment - I did it well, I might add - I threw away a very expensive Tupperware once with nary a wince - TOO BAD, old lunch forgetter!!Rules is rules and it's 4:35 on Friday, SUCKA!!. Ahem. One poster responded by complaining that the problem was all due to fat women who bring in all sorts of healthy produce on Monday and then cheat by going to a fast food place every day and leave their sad arugala to rot. Now we all know there are women, fat AND thin, who definitely do this. They do it at home, too. So this loser just pumps out this obnoxious remark and THEN, get this - throws in some kind of urban legend where some sicko at his (yes, of course it's a man - sheesh) work was caught dipping his junk into attractive womens' lunches. Sadly, the ball-dipper was let go. NO ONE says a thing for 5 more posts until some FEMALE (I find that term offensive so that's what I call these kind of women) not only agrees with the idiot about the fat lettuce avoiders but also comment-flirts/sucks up to him by remarking that maybe the sicko should work where there are all fat women and/or black women who will set him straight "because you know those black women don't take any shit". Wiggedy WHAT??!!Have you ever felt such a level of anger/disbelief/frustration that you wanted to bite someone while simultaneously cussing them out?? Which is more wrong - the fact that this dumb bitch thinks that fat women deserve to have grimy balls dipped in their pasta primavera, or that the sicko wouldn't bother because they are fat, or the out of the park RACISM/stereotyping involved in that last bit? Talk about exhausting. I sat there thinking "How do I fulfill my duty as a humane person and set these 2 asshats straight?" And then it hit me - all Moses on the mountain, hallelujah! - I don't HAVE to. These kind of idiots are a lost cause and it's okay. Truly, you can't win them all. There are stupid, stupid people out there and it is sometimes better to just let them make their own shit pile to lie in. Now I must get back to making snarky comments on websites.

Multiple Choice

2007-10-23T12:39:00.000-07:00

Please choose (ONE) from the following menu before you come into my workplace and chew me out for something that is YOUR OWN FAULT:

A) old
B) cranky
C) unreasonable
C) smells BAD

Please be advised that more than one choice will cause unpleasantness.
Please make sure you never come in here again.
You DID say you wouldn't be back on your way out.

Thank you.

Nuthin' but LOVE, Dooce!

2007-10-12T12:08:00.000-07:00

So...here I am with Santino Syndrome again - thinking if I don't have something clever to say today, I might as well just throw myself under a bus and call myself a complete blogging failure. I'm not hatin', Heather Armstrong, just a little jealous!
She beat me to the punch writing about road rage this week. I love when you read something you can instantly relate to and it feels like that person just crawled into your brain and started taking notes. Guess THAT'S why she has a big ole' sponsored blog! LOVE LOVE to read her juicy stuff. I'll just go ahead with my road rage blog today and try not to feel small and insignificant... It seems that many people drive with their emotions instead of their brains. I've noticed an alarming parallel between a person's attitude and the way they drive. Example: The other day I saw a HUGE SUV, driver decides that the concrete island in the road is of no concern to her, drives to the left of it(illegally) and bangs a left into a busy shopping plaza. Proceeds to blast through 2 stop signs for pedestrian crosswalks, parks almost sideways in a handicapped spot(NOT a handicapped vehicle, I checked), slides out while yelling into her cell, yanks 2 kids out by their arms, then pokes half her body back into the truck for the next five minutes. So let's see: Britney Spears Senior here obviously thinks that traffic laws don't apply to her, talks too loudly in public, endangers her kids by leaving them unsupervised in a parking lot, and parks in a spot meant for someone who can't park anywhere else. What do you think this person's social skills are? How do you think she views the world? I can tell you right now. She thinks she is owed something by everyone. She thinks her children will raise themselves and if they turn out badly, it's someone else's fault. She doesn't care that her giant vehicle is polluting us all, nor that she doesn't NEED that much room for driving around 2 toddlers. Maybe all that space is for her giant designer knock-off purse? She wears too much lip gloss and if you see her from 25 feet away, she looks 22 - she's 32 but looks 40 from too much drinking, smoking and self-induced stress. She spends more on hair products and getting her nails done than on her kids but if her daycare overcharges her for being 10 minutes late she throws a tantrum. You know this woman. We all do. And she drives just like her personality. Keep your eyes on the road, fellow drivers. Be safe out there.

Whipped Too

2007-10-07T09:37:00.001-07:00

I was reading Blog-o-licious (a "blog mom" from Canada) and she had written about an incident that happened at her son's school. She writes: "Yesterday Avery buried a classmate's hat and mitts in the snow. Then he couldn't find them. His teacher sent home a note to tell us this. She made him write a note to his classmate and classmate's mother apologizing. And he can't go out for recess for the rest of the week." I hope I don't sound too aggressively American but....WHAT??! This kid is six! He played a harmless and silly prank on a buddy that went awry. First of all, something like this is so miniscule in comparision to some of the truly tragic things that go on in some schools, especially in larger cities and poorer areas. The teacher handled the situation in the most wrong way possible. What SHOULD have happened is this: The teacher pulls aside both the hat hider and the hat owner. The teacher then gives a short speech focusing on the practical aspect of respecting (not touching) other students' belongings and the fact that the hat owner will now be cold. THAT is what the hat hider should be apologiziong for, as a six year old to another six year-old, NOT to the parent. Never in a million years would I expect someone else's child to apologize to ME for something they did to my child. I believe it is more important for a child to take responsibility for his actions and to feel empathy for his peer than it is to placate another parent and/or the teacher. The teacher should have sent a note to both parents calmly explaining the facts and inviting the parents to iron out the replacement of hat & mittens between themselves, thus allowing the adults to act as such. Mary, Michael, and Bride, I can get a damn hat and some mittens at the frickin' dollar store! If I was either parent, I would NOT appreciate so much time and effort taken away from academic work to deal with such a small problem. I would NOT appreciate the teacher taking this learning opportunity away from my child and making it into a ridiculous, overblown parody of a REAL disciplinary problem. It is a scientific, accepted fact among educators that you never use writing as punishment - because then it takes on a negative aspect. Writing=Punishment. DUH! Staying in for recess ALL week? That's just excessive compared to the "crime". There are children selling drugs, carrying weapons, engaging in sexual acts, and using school to get away from abusive home lives. People, please! I do have a bias, I admit. My educational process was a nightmare. I was (and still am) most likely both ADD and OCD with a probable severe math disability. I am also gifted and have a high IQ. In the late 70's and early 80's, there were no IEPs, literacy tutors, referred testing, or child advocacy laws. Basically in your normal, everyday school, my need for (and lack of) challenging work and my different learning style turned into behavior problems and eventually, oppositional defiance. I became a behavioral legend because I was bored!! So I have a leetle issue with this kind of nonsense BULLSHIT being perpetuated in any educational setting. I am NOT understanding WHY the administrators, the teachers, and most of all, the parents, are so goddamned whipped! I cannot understand the thinking behind an incident like this AT ALL. Teachers should be using every second of school time to further their students' learning, not lecture them over trivial social incidents. One Good Thing: My daughter got my sense of humour, dark and silly. Thank God! Prayers: for all other insomniacs, I feel you tonight... OH YES I CAN so there

Stop Mass Harassing My Ass

2007-07-07T06:09:00.000-07:00

Now I know all you ladies are familiar with this phenomenon. You are just minding your own beez, checking your emails when lo and behold...you get what looks like a genuine, sincere, i like you kinda email. You open it and...tada! It's a mass mailing from some TOOL who is too stupid to realize how offensive it is to mass mail a woman...EVER. Listen up, guys. This idiocy is the fishing of the dating world...you throw your line out, hope to get a bite and reel it in to take a peek. If it's the wrong size, shape, color or whatever, you throw it back. I AM NOT A FISH, goddamit. I don't motherfather CARE if you are busy, you are a firefighter, you serve our country, you give your spleen to cancer kids. Grow some sensitivity, please. Take the time to scroll through the choices and choose a woman based on more than just gender. I'm sure there will be some asshats who will just HAVE to argue that "what's the harm?" and "But women do that, too" and "But I met my wife that way". I have this to say to all of that claptrap: Shut the hell up! The harm is in making someone feel for two seconds that they matter in some way and then they realize that you also wished eleventy thousand other women God's blessings on their lives and that you are SURE you would be perfect for each other. Insincerity is not only rude, it's tacky and unattractive. Point #2 of the devil's advocate: Women who are doing mass mailings are insecure, attention-starved WHORES who just want to show you their used and abused bits and pieces. Do you really want to be associated in the same category as that? If yes, there is a page in the back of a magazine waiting for you with your skanky nastiness. Point #3. If you really did meet your wife that way, she is either DUMB or literally a saint for ever speaking to you and you should be making ritual sacrifices to Jehovah every day for the great honor bestowed upon you. Okay, I believe I have vented my frustration now. I repeat, I am not a fish and I am seriously considering doing a pop quiz based on my personal info before I send a response. Am I being too harsh? NAAAHH.... :)

It's True...

2007-07-03T06:09:00.000-07:00

July 3, 2007 - Tuesday

I had someone tell me a few months back that if I was gonna talk shit, I better be able to back it up. While I agree with this statement in theory, reality is not so simple. I can sho' nuff back my shit up...the question was having the choice to keep it at just words instead of physical confrontation. Is that maturity or cowardice? It's a frustrating truth that while there is always a good reason to back down from a fight or even a challenge, there is also always a good reason not to. Some days you need to start something on purpose just to prove that you can still back your shit up. I have been accused in the past of starting something just to be argumentative or because I was in a bad mood or some other patronizing reason. I beg to differ. Many times I can recall just needing to back up my shit. Just wanting to express my opinion without being scoffed at, put down or simply looked at with pity and disdain. I did something very stupid when I was eleven. It was meant to get my parent's attention and to blackmail them into giving me what I wanted. It was the type of incident that nowadays would land a kid in therapy in 5 seconds. But in 1985, it got me exactly the result I was going for. I got my way. You could debate for days about lenient parenting, bad seeds, and the squeaky wheel. The point is that my extreme behavior got me not only a definitive result, as you would expect, but the exact result I wanted. So who is to say that it was a "crazy" thing to do? Why insist on achievement only by socially acceptable means wearing pristine white gloves and keeping your legs crossed at the ankle? More than one way to skin a cat is a horrible, disgusting metaphor but there are no other closer ones in the English language to describe that sense that you are actually skinning a cat just because you choose to do things a different way. And that word, CHOICE, is the key. I am not a victim. I am not a good person that bad things happened to...I am a good person who made some decisions that others feel were wrong. Sorry but I am not sorry. I refuse to take responsibility for your feelings about my choices. I have HAD IT with those who constantly and very vocally disapprove of my choices in life. Get your own life and leave me alone. Unless I break a law with my "unorthodox" way of living, keep your trap shut. Thank you infinitely to Lori, who is the only person I have ever met who can simultaneously disagree with my choices and accept them and mind her own business and support me totally all at the same time. My own family can't even manage the minding their own business part. A small prayer today for my two grandmothers who both passed this time of year and are surely watching over me.

Played...well played

2007-04-30T06:20:00.000-07:00

April 30, 2007 - Monday

Well, I have been played. In the most CLICHE, obvious, put me on the floor and walk on me sad excuse for a human way. Been "seeing" this guy since last November, on again off again, whatever again. Anyhoo, had some very honest (OUCH!!) conversations during this time period and also more recently, regarding what we expect from each other, how we both want just a friend with benefits, no, wait, relationship, no, just a booty call, oh jeez. You get the point. I would like to state for the record that what I expect from a friends with bennies situation is sadly, not that much, due to my lack of faith in 98% of men on this planet to act semi-human. Here it is: be reasonably attractive and/or sexy (in my opinion, those 2 things are not always the same- example; my honey Snoop Dogg- ugly but sexy as hell), be reasonably intelligent (tried the "dumb but cute" guy, couldn't take it, wanted to staple his mouth shut), have basic manners (what? are you surprised? have you met Kim?)and very good hygiene, give me the courtesy of immediate knowledge of any and all other current partners (for obvious health concerns), have adequate equipment and know what to do with it (you'd be surprised how many men lie about this - I WILL kick you out of my house, trust me) and before now, I thought that was it. I was wrong. Yes, unbelievable as it seems. There are some people who must be told right from wrong even for a simple booty call. Who doesn't know that when someone is expecting you at their house and you can't make it, you call them and let them know?? If anyone I called a friend had mistreated, disrespected, or simply abused me the way I have let this recent mistake do to me, I would NEVER speak to that person again. Why do women allow men to do this to them?? Why did I? Let's just touch on the basic manners/calling back thing. Man is driving back to RI after extended visit to family in New York due to death in family, Woman has been supportive friend through hard time, Man states on his own that he will be arriving in RI on Sunday, Man asks that food be cooked (danger, Will Robinson), Woman agrees (bad to worse) and asks for general time frame of arrival, Man refuses to answer, Phone call ends. Fast Fwd to Sunday afternoon around 1:30 pm. Man calls from Pennsylvania (!!??!!) visting daughter (strangely, no mention of this was made on Sat...hmmm) Woman is startled and tentatively asks for new time frame, Man asserts will return to RI that night, Woman suspicious but agreeable. Well, guess what? Woman cooks nice meal, eats some, puts leftovers away, watches TV, finally falls asleep at midnight after restricting herself to 2 polite phone calls (no answer) stating worry and request for call back to confirm Man is alive. No response. Woman opens eyes at 6 am, calls Man for update. Man answers and explains that he (get this!!) FELL ASLEEP. In Pennsylvania. At his ex's house. (Silence prevails) So Man knew Woman was waiting for his arrival (after over 2 weeks of not seeing one another), knew she had cooked a meal, knew she would be worried, but doesn't BOTHER to call. HMM, Man has such a "good relationship" with his ex that he can sleep there (in her bed, probably, that asshole) and yet can't ask to use the landline phone to call Woman?? Man gets mad (!!??!!) about being questioned and hangs up on Woman. Wow. This Man has 5 kids - don't tell me nothing happened. An even by some remote chance that it didn't, do you expect me to believe it? What if I had done the same thing and tried to play it off like nothing? Please. The man had a warm bed and a hot meal waiting and chose to stay where he was instead so obviously, I wasn't good enough to rush home for. This is just one example of his behavior - there's more I am embarassed to say I tolerated. Some may say it is a lack of self-esteem...good point. Some may say it is just not wanting to be alone....could be. I know myself well enough to know that a good portion of it is not wanting to admit that I was wrong about this guy. That I was SO wrong to assume that good looks, nice smile, a few good qualitites translates into someone worth spending time with or even sleeping with, to be blunt. It SO doesn't, ladies. An abuser is an abuser and always will be. Someone who cannot compromise and be accountable for their actions at 50 years old is a loser, no matter how sexy they are. I am sad that he is not who I wish he was. But he is not worth my time and energy. Now if only I could convince my softie heart of that. Shit.

Friday the 13th is a bunch of whooey....

2007-04-13T11:51:00.000-07:00

April 13, 2007 - Friday

Okay, so I am full of shit and I DO believe in superstitious crap. I lied. It's funny...I make the statement to people all the time that I rarely lie because I am a bad liar. Somehow, even though I CAN lie when needed, or more often, provoked, it's mostly true. I do not lie to get myself out of sticky situations, I don't lie to protect others' feelings, I don't ever lie to the man I am currently seeing, but mostly, I just don't lie. Now give or take the occasional white lie, such as the obligatory "your ass looks great in those white pants" or " I truly DID want your unwanted Christmas gifts regifted to me for my birthday, thank you!!" kinda deals, I keep it to the minimum. I recently had to break the news about E.B. (Easter Bunny) to my daughter, who is 10 and old enough. While the incident came about by accident, the look of relief coupled with the twinkle in her eye when she was informed that she would still be receiving her basket full of sugar was enough to clue me in that my unliar gene did NOT pass into the child. The little stinker already knew there was no gay rabbit prancing around the country with baskets of CVS candy for all good little girls and boys. She was playing me, that little player. Sadly, I fear she is very good at the type of lie I like to call "the Bambi lie". I call it this for two reasons: One, it is usually accompanied by wide eyes, fluttering lashes, and a ridiculously innocent expression, and Two, it is usually brought into play as a last resort, like the moment on Friends when they had to tell Phoebe that Bambi's mom got shot. It must be reserved for special occasions when you have gone beyond the believable. Like my kid who is taller than me, wears a bra, and thinks I buy that she still believes in Santa. Puhleeez! Who is she kidding? She is all about double presents!! As I said, she is as capable of the lie as I am not. I am an omitter - I omit. Such as, I don't answer the phone if I don't have the answer you want to hear. Is that still lying? Recently unemployed and in possession of a large and talkative family, does it count that I haven't spoken directly about it with anyone but my sisters and mother? How about I keep it to myself that I did NOT look for a job today? I personally would prefer to just not talk about it if that's the only subject that people want to discuss with me. Let a girl collect her thoughts (and unemployment) for a minute, okay? If I sound cranky, it's because my bills are behind and that is always worrisome. I find that being truthful with utility companies can actually hurt your chances for a payment plan but of course, I tell them the truth, too. I am hoping that one day I will be rewarded for my integrity (ha!) but also, it's interesting to note that as usual, I do it for me. I do it to make myself more comfortable. As always, dear readers (who don't exist) I do it all for me. Have a great weekend!

fooling around

2006-11-12T11:53:00.000-08:00

November 12, 2006 - Sunday

Don't let the absenteeism fool ya', I always have plenty to say. I am unsure whether a certain person will be reading this or not but I have tip-toed around the subject long enough. This is gonna be a soul-baring, messy, and self-aggrandizing blog so if that makes you feel nauseous or whatever, get out now while you still can. I go into these moods on occasion (like, every other day, kinda) where I become convinced I am the SHIT. Now, all evidence points to the contrary but there it is. I am admittedly self-centered most of the time. What blows me away is people who claim to know me well but somehow miss this tiny aspect of my nature. Um, have ya' met KIM?? (yeah, sarcasm is part of the package, too). One of the many benefits of being all about Number One is the fact that being misunderstood rarely bothers me. I shrug. What does hurt, however, are people who claim to be my friends, family, like-me-a-lot types, ACCUSING ME OF BEHAVIOR THAT I DO NOT ENGAGE IN. There, I said it. Yes, I do get obsessive. Yes, I do sometimes have some communication gaps. No, I do not need others' approval of my relationships. When the misunderstanding occurs as a result of wrongdoing on my part, I can stand up right now and tell you that I NEVER shy away from owning up. If I have done something wrong, I admit it. When I am wrongfully judged for something I didn't do, my old M.O. was to rant and rave and generally cause a major fuss and MAKE SURE that the other person(s) fully understand my non-wrongdoing. Now - don't care. That's right. Don't care. I have wasted YEARS of my life being worried about whether other people understand me and/or agree with my decisions, small and large. Ever since a fateful phone call early fall of this year, I no longer respond to bitchy accusations of things I am NOT doing. Long story short - I was in a difficult time in my life, had limited means of communication, and was spending every waking hour attempting to resolve said difficult time. Asked a certain "friend" to call me so as to reserve my resources (read: pre-paid phone). Certain friend responds by rushing me off the phone when I called her and then not calling ME back so I stopped calling, leading to the call that accused me of being too focused on a new relationship to call her back. Besides being ridiculously untrue, it was petty and unnecessary and extremely the opposite of being supportive. That new relationship was already over by the time she made that call, which she would have known if she had called me sooner. I didn't return that call - don't plan to either. I don't know what to do about it - I only know that for me to make contact means I lose somehow. Sounds irrational but that's the way I feel. This person is the equivilant of family and I miss her a lot. Her son sends me little nudges almost every single day (she'll know what that means) but I just can't bring myself to call. It's not that I expect her to either, I guess I see her as a part of my life that is now over and maybe I'm afraid spending time with her will throw me back to that old life. I just don't know. Maybe if someone has an answer for me they can let me know. Sorry about the mess and thanks for listening.

Forgive...Forget. Not a Team.

2006-06-03T11:54:00.000-07:00

June 3, 2006 - Saturday

Yeah, so I was watchin' Madea with my girl and laughing my ass off (you know that's funny) but I was also paying close attention to the spiritual messages, too. One of the themes was forgiveness. Now I've heard this before...Forgive others for yourself, lay that burden down, it will make me feel better, etc. I could disregard that because it just didn't resonate with me. Then I heard it spoken in a new way: the people you need to forgive? They are not losing any sleep over what they did so why are you? That made so much sense to me I almost had to stand up and shout AMEN! Serious. There was another part that really hit me, too. Forgive, yes. Forget, no. All this time I thought that was a package deal...turns out - not so much. Never forget what you have allowed someone to do to you so that you will never allow it again. True that. So next time I'm feeling down about my well-intentioned but certainly not perfect life, I will remember all the people who are SO ready to give advice but can't get themselves straight. SO ready to judge others when they are so messed up themselves. SO ready to prove they are better that they push you down to build themselves up. It would be easy to start pointing back at them. So easy! The most difficult people to forgive are the ones who think they are helping. The ones who don't KNOW they have done anything to be forgiven for and wouldn't believe you if you told them. Those are the people I pray for along with many prayers for help. To all those who think I need or want your opinions, advice, and your judgements, how about you get your life right first? God will help me and he does not judge. He will not ask me to divulge my secrets. He will not get all up in my business. He will not disrespect my intelligence. He will ALWAYS be there - even when I am ugly in my mind. Those who think they are too cool for faith in God (LOVE) are the ones who need Him the most. I know I do. Thank you, Tyler Perry, for the message.

Collectibles are STUPID!

2006-04-28T18:46:00.000-07:00

I could start by saying "I don't mean to complain" but I'd be lying. I definitely mean to complain. I just read an advice column dealing with a grandfather who wanted to give his grandaughter expensive "collectible" dolls. That is the dumbest idea in the world and yes, I'd be happy to tell you why. Let's just break down the timeline of this brilliant plan and look at both the practicality (zero) and emotional health (zzzip!). Gramps buys some cheeseball, shmaltzy, cliche-cutesy but somehow always ugly & usually scary, signed and numbered piece of over-priced CRAP that someone is trying to pass off as "collectible" and also, a doll. Said doll/figurine then goes into a dark closet somewhere until Lil' Susie grows up. Or even more ridiculous, the dumbass parents put it on a shelf in her room, in plain view, while explaining that Lil' Susie cannot play with it or touch it or even breathe next to it because it is special and expensive and collectible. Lil' Susie grows older...all the while wondering about, and maybe awed by, the untouchable freak on the shelf. She starts to think it really IS special, giving it a certain sheen in her mind and dreaming of the day when she can touch it and play with it. Here comes the first part of the kicker, though. By the time she could possibly be allowed to even touch it, she will be too old for dolls and won't care. From there she will become savvy enough to be conned into it's supposed "value" as a "signed and numbered" piece. But watch out, Susie! Here comes the second, and most devastating part....it has no value. That's right. No one wants it....not even you. Because that is the cruel nature of a collectible.

I work in a consignment store so I know EXACTLY what a collectible means. It means a money-making scheme used to bilk seniors and bored wierdos out of their cash. The ONLY way a collectible is successful is if LOTS of people not only like it, want it, buy it, love it, but also if other dumb seniors and rich wierdos love the same stuff IN THE SAME SHORT PERIOD OF TIME!! Hello, TY Beanie Babies anyone? What a joke. It reminds me of the enigmatic world of fashion...who makes the rules this season? Who says shrugs are hott? Who decided low-rise pants were a smart idea? (People who have Marlboros and water for lunch, that's who!!) Anyway, back to topic...Who in the world makes up these wierd characters/series of dolls/figurines and then tries to pass them off as ART??! BAD artists and con men who refuse to make money legitimately doing a little thing the rest of us call WORKING.

So poor Susie is left with a worthless, ugly doll, and a resentment of Gramps and parents for perpetuating the whole situation. So she thinks, okay, this thing is a COLLECTIBLE. Someone must love this thing. She places an ad in the paper...nothing. She puts it on Ebay...nothing. She brings it to a consignment store...where, of course, we LOVE these kind of items and the bad karma they bring with them. She bitches about the pricing because she has been lied to her whole life about its value. Finally the item is priced, WAY below it's "normal" price, of course. The rat-faced doll now sits on a shelf in my store staring at me and taunting me with its beady, hand-painted eyes. Some people look at it..."ooh, Martha, look at the little dolly, how sweet!"....but there is always a problem with the price, the number, a slight, miniscule chip on the heel of the left foot, Great-Aunt Edith already has that one. After the consignment period ends, it's even sadder. Susie's attitude towards this thing has hit ground zero. She takes it outside with every intention of bringing it to the Salvation Army...suddenly, in a fit of rage, she throws it to the pavement and calmly starts her car, crunching Cutesy Collectible under her front wheels with a satisfied grin on her face.

I can't tell you how many times this will happen in the world. I wish I had one of those "tragedy clocks" people use to make Public Service Announcements. You know, like every 15 minutes, a misguided grandfather will buy his beloved grandchild a meaningless gift instead of investing in her future.

I tell my daughter all the time how lucky she is. She has a family that supports her in ways that will be beneficial to her long-term. Her time spent with her great-grandfather now will always be important to her. He is one of her heroes. Time spent together and love shared will have greater meaning to her when she is older than all the toys and gifts that break and fade away. It is our jobs as parents to promote this attitude in this time of consumerism and lack of family time. Hey, I try.

Africa

2006-04-27T20:00:00.000-07:00

I am only some white girl
I don't know shit about any of it
but tonight
I cry for Africa

I mourn for Africa
I'm sure it sounds condescending
because I'm not black...or Oprah

oh Africa the world abandoned you
how could we?
how could we be so disgustingly white? (blind)

I am ashamed of the human race
and so sad
I cry for Africa
I just cry

Comedians Save Me..All the Time.

2006-04-05T11:58:00.000-07:00

April 5, 2006 - Wednesday

Comedians Save Me..All The Time.

I don't know how some people live without the wonder that is Will Ferrell. The man is fucking hilarious. That is all.

Sorry, just to clarify..the scene from SNL where he yells at a couple to shut the hell up and talks to Beverly about a palomino. He lost their baby. I've seen it a few times now but I still laugh every time.

Lazy Parenting

2006-03-22T06:24:00.000-08:00

This morning, while browsing through entertainment news, I came upon an article regarding a release of new DVDs for babies and toddlers. That's right, I said babies and toddlers. Now, I could give you the gist of the argument going on between outraged children's health professionals and the marketing geniuses trying desperately to defend their unsubtle greediness for MORE of our money but I think you probably can figure that out for yourself. Unlike some of these LAZY PARENTS, you don't need to be told the obvious - such as that TV for anyone under 2 years old is unhealthy. The American Academy of Pediatrics agrees. Why? Common sense. If you have that much free time with a baby or toddler in your house, you are doing something wrong. You should up to your eyeballs in poopy diapers, crusty onesies, piles of laundry, dishes falling out of the sink, one leg shaved and bed head, eating Swedish fish and Diet Coke for lunch. You should be lying on the couch at 6 am, one eye propped open, watching your baby play with age-appropriate plastic nonsense while a thin stream of snot rolls peacefully down your sweet child's upper lip. You should be shelling out that hard-earned cash on Mommy and Me "classes" or bribes to the nearest Montesorri to get Junior in "early decision". Or if you are the slightly more ghetto mom, buying tokens at the local arcade and taking Baby Bubba on the simulated snowmobile game or treating him to a large fries at McDonald's. These activities are sanctioned by other parents everywhere because we've all done it. Nod along with me now. Yup, you, too, perfect mom, admit it. Having said all that, does that mean it was right? In the best interests of our children? Eh, maybe..maybe not. The point is what is done once in a while out of sheer boredom or insanity is acceptable and endearing as human frailty. To feed into that frailty and go completely over the edge into a total breakdown of values is not. One of the arguments made by the people hawking the DVDs was that today's parents grew up with TV and don't see it as a great evil. I take offense at being lumped into that category. I thank God (and my mom) that I watched public TV ONLY (and a very limited amount of it) until age 11. I never heard of MTV until 1985. Really. I am so grateful to my mom for not allowing my little brain to get TVed at a young age. Am I that strict with my daughter? No. I try my best and I do stick to one hour a day on school days. Not only do I question the programming she watches but I also forbid certain shows. The dangers of too much TV are prevelant and real. Short attention span, weight gain, inability to entertain oneself, looking like Gollum from being inside too much - the list goes on. It is never easy to make her shut it off. Of course it isn't. But who is the boss of her? That's right. To be an effective boss (parent), you can't be nice. You gotta be a bitch. So when your darling screams for Baby Elmo on DVD, just say no. She might thank you someday. Thanks, Mom!

Oh The Humanity...

2006-03-19T21:01:00.000-08:00

A woman in Romania had an enormous, life-threatening tumor on her body. Because of her condition, she needed a massive amount of blood for transfusions on hand while the doctors operated and removed the tumor. 600 people donated their blood to save this one lady. She is not the president, nor his wife. She is not a celebrity, nor is she some kind of Romanian socialite. She is just an average person with a family. I am astounded and humbled by the thought that all those people gave such a gift to this woman - just because. Because it was kind, or because her story touched them somehow, some perhaps in hopes that someone would do it for them if need be. Whatever the reason, they gave. What a gift. How wonderful that humanity and goodness are not dead yet.

**this was a true story I saw on Discovery Health Channel, BTW. :)

Sore Winner....Or the Tale of the Backstabbing Bizotch

2006-03-10T09:34:00.000-08:00

I've heard it said there is nothing worse than a sore loser. I beg to differ. An ungracious, dispassionate, unappreciative winner is three times as revolting. Yes, Chloe Dao, I'm talking about you. To win a competition with 80's Texas prom dresses/ couch slipcovers, no matter how well sewn they were, was bad enough but then for you to badmouth your peers....""I can only say that I guess you're wrong!" Dao told the AP. "I can't help it if I had skills, honey." FIRST of all, DROP the quasi-street talk, HONEY, you are not from that place so don't even try. You live in a beautiful home, you have the full support of a large family, you already have an established business, you certainly have some money, especially now that you only spent, maybe, 30 bucks out of the 8 grand on all that hideous fabric in your "collection", and now you have a new car, a plush mentorship at Banana, and well over 15 minutes of fame. And what did you do with all those gifts? You trash the other designers, make statements about keeping your life the same (??), and AGAIN, show yourself to be completely robotic and insincere in your "passion" for design. I doubt we will even know who you are 2 months, no, 2 weeks, from now. YOU didn't even believe you had won..how revealing is that? What a waste! What a shame for Santino and even Daniel, who are both so talented, creative, grateful, and truly passionate. Who both could have taken this gift and really used it to further themselves as artists. Santino, especially, has really shown himself to be a really admirable person in so many ways. He has sacrificed himself on the altar of reality TV and hasn't complained. He has been portrayed as a villian, ridiculed, humiliated and misunderstood. And through it all, he has not only been painfully honest but also worked with his whole heart. I find it interesting that although all the contestants were willing to laugh at his jokes and use him to bolster their spirits, not one has stood by him when he's gotten kicked, except Andrae. Cheers to Andrae! Santino has been more than gracious in his statements regarding the outcome of the show. (Check out his website santinorice.com) How ridiculous that his remarks have been so edited that they are portrayed as petty bitchiness instead of blunt truth. Chloe probably IS a brilliant pattern-maker. What is so insulting about that? Isn't that what her degree is anyway? There are so many ways that her collection was weak. Immature taste level, garish color palette, unwearability, no cohesiveness (discount store tablecloth print dresses that match do not count) and only "evening" wear? Come on. The only thing she HAD was construction. Daniel had some issues with taste and cohesiveness as well but at least his were wearable! Maybe the POINT of the collection was that it was separates - didja think of that, Michael Kors, you queeny narrow-minded twit? The camel dress, the purple sweater, those pants, that FAB print blazer - I could see someone wearing those. I find it HILARIOUS that the judges tried to take Santino down with a ridiculous comment about fit, of all things! Not only did his models not show up for fittings, none of them HAD any boobs to BE in the "wrong place". His collection was so beautiful, I still can't believe it. His color palette was so sophisticated, thoughtful and flattering. Browns, earthy greens, purples and gold metallics, that is what is in the magazines right now. Santino proved once and for all that he has the ability to marry his genius to what people want. I watched Project Runway Season Two hoping against hope that artistry, passion, and personality would FINALLY be rewarded in America, where often those things are taken for granted and almost expected from the nation in love with reality TV. Santino said it best himself when he said, "I'm not just good TV, I'm a great designer!" I was so caught up in the stories of the designers and enjoying watching them create and work that I forgot that the brown-noser, goody two shoes is ALWAYS rewarded, while the more talented but perhaps not as easily palatable are ALWAYS punished. I feel better now that I have vindicated Santino in my own head. He will always be the Winner in my book. Best wishes, Santino! And much respect to your mama, who made you into such a fine human being. Oh, and BOO to Tim Gunn for succumbing to typical gay man bitchiness in his recent blog where he said something about if Santino had won, they would have to rename the show "Project Freakshow". How stupid! As if not only should Santino be responsible for Jay McCarroll's behavior and vice versa, but that charismatic personality is a negative attribute in a winner. Two words, Tim - Oprah Winfrey. Today's Shouty #1: Inconsiderate, ignorant men GOTTA go! No matter how much they might flatter me and think I'm the shit. I have to learn to validate myself. Less messy. One Good Thing: My sister M is so good to me - Thanks, Fajita! Prayers: for Santino, of course and for AM, who also got a second chance like Chloe and didn't use it wisely. Sorry, no time for true losers. OH YES I CAN so there

First Communion...And Whores at the Mall

2006-03-07T09:33:00.000-08:00

One of my fave blogs is White Trash Mom. She is having a problem with buying her daughter a First Communion dress. Seems that the ones her daughter likes are all a teensy bit pricey. As in one hundred dollars for one dress. $100 bucks??!! Now, I know Catholicism is emotionally expensive but this is ridiculous!! I remember my First Communion( long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away)...I wore a simple white dress, white tights and white Mary Janes. My grandmother made me a wreath of baby's breath to wear in my hair. I looked ten times nicer than all the little Jon-Benets in my class and was WAY more comfortable. No scratchy taffeta, no tutu petticoats, no rhinestones on my tights (yes, people, rhinestones), no salon updo so tight that it made me look Asian, no 2 inch heels on open toe shoes, no lip gloss, eyeshadow, or vaseline on my eyebrows (although that mother could be excused, her daughter had a unibrow that just wouldn't quit!) My mother is to be commended, in the age of old-school Madonna, for keeping her little girls just that. Little girls. In some ways, it wasn't that difficult, given that we lived on a prep school campus, were only allowed to watch public television, wore corduroy pants and oxford shirts when we weren't in Catholic school uniforms, and a shocking hairstyle meant changing my part from the side to the middle, which, by the way, was EXTREMELY unattractive. (I have since gone back to the side part). We lived in a bubble of our parent's making and we didn't know anything else. But don't mistake me, not in a Carrie kind of way. No prayers in closets or deadly fear of menstruation. Just a careful, thoughtful tending of us - kind of like plants that would not grow properly outside of a greenhouse environment. I don't know how my sisters feel about it but I can appreciate now the care that was taken in my upbringing. Especially in protecting our innocence, dressing us appropriately, teaching us the facts of life in a respectful, informative way, and shielding us from simple things like foul language and sexuality. The first time someone said "fuck" to me I didn't know it was a real word. Or a verb. I have tried to do the same for my daughter. I insist that she dress for her age, regardless of her height, weight, shoe size and development, which are closer to a 11-12 year old than a 9 year old. It's going to be an uphill battle. She already wears a bra and not the cutesy, fake kind, either. She is almost as tall as me and will certainly hit other puberty checkpoints way earlier than her peers. The danger I see does not come from her or me, or even her relatively innocent peers. The danger I see is at the mall. The mall is full of whores. They just don't know they are whores. You know the ones I mean. Those girls with the low-rise jeans, belly shirts, heels, fake nails, fake tans, BIG earrings, BIG sunglasses, BIG purses, cell phones and enough makeup to cover most of New England. These girls are 12. They are 13. They are CHILDREN. Some of them don't even menstruate yet. But they LOOK like grown women. Whorish, tacky, minimum wage grown women. Actual grown women who look like them (barflies) are made fun of by classier women and get screwed over by only slightly smarter men. WHO in the name of HOLY CHRIST lets them dress this way? Who thinks it's appropriate to not only view the cleavage of a 14 year old but her thong, too? Who is buying her a thong??? The outfits on these girls can be easily put together - Wal-Mart, Target, Macy's, Chi-Chi Expensive Store I Don't Know Exists - it's not socio-economic at all - just the names on the clothes and purses are different. All the stores are carrying this "look". There are marketing geniuses somewhere thinking up more ways to get more teenage girls to look like prostitutes. How FUCKED up is that? We cry and moan over 20/20 stories about child sex slaves inThailand. Oh, boo frickin' hoo - GO LOOK IN THE MALL! How do you think these girls view themselves? More dangerously, how do their male peers view them? They are all looking at porn by that age group.Then they see the same "styles" on their classmates. How are they going to treat them? Hmmm, like objects, maybe? Like SEXUAL objects? DUH!! These girls might as well be sex slaves, too, for all the "help" their parents are giving them in the self-respect department. I would go so far as to say their parents might as well be their PIMPS. They are allowing it, in some cases, encouraging it. How sad and disgusting. So my point is...when and if my daughter catches sight of this hopefully short-lived "trend", she will be given a short speech on why it is just as bad to LOOK like you sell your body for money as it is to actually DO it. She will then be shown ways to express her creativity and sense of drama through her wardrobe in appropriate ways. She will NOT hang out at the mall, she will be too busy doing something worthwhile with her time. I am her mother and I say so. It's not that hard to say, "No, dear, tanning and fake nails are an indulgence that you are welcome to pay for when you have a paycheck. Those clothes do not fit you properly, I'm not buying them. No cell phone until you have a driver's license and/or leave home. No makeup until you can learn to apply it gently and with regard to your age". This is not rocket science. It's parenting. It's not supposed to be a goddamn picnic. By the way, WHAT are they putting in those enormous purses anyway? They don't even have any keys. OH YES I CAN so there

Thank You

2006-02-13T09:32:00.000-08:00

Thank you to those of you in my life trying to sincerely help and support me. Those who can be objective and loving at the same time. Those who do not judge and make comparisions, criticize my choices, or insult my intelligence. To those people who only want to bring me down and stomp on my spirit, please don't be offended if I ignore you and continue living my life MY WAY. It is your choice whether you want to help someone or not. When you offer a person help, it is a gift. When you give a gift, you DO NOT get to decide ANYTHING about how that person uses that gift. You don't get to make a gift conditional AT ALL. Otherwise it is not a gift - it is a guilt trip. I do not ACCEPT guilt trips anymore. Thanks anyway. My daughter has taught me the most about the value of a gift. I did not truly understand the definition of a gift until this year. She makes the most creative, detailed, wacky presents for everyone - usually of found objects and paper. They are a true expression of her heart and her feelings for that person. Are they always what that person wanted? No. Are they sometimes very tacky? YES. But I cherish each and every gift she has ever given me, including the ones I can't pack away in a box. I can't say to her "Don't you dare treat that expensive doll that way". That would be a guilt trip, not a gift. There is learning for her and for me in that situation. I learn to let go and let it be her gift. She learns to treat her belongings with more care if she wants them to last. A special thank you goes out to VV and AM - for listening without prejudice, for supporting without interference, and for sharing your own flaws to make me feel less alone. I will always appreciate your friendship and support. Thank you. OH YES I CAN so there

I Just Love Him

2006-02-12T09:29:00.000-08:00

THAT IS ALL.