Whatever happened to….being polite?

Lately I’ve noticed an increase in rudeness all over the United States. We’ve all seen it with examples like Kanye West at the MTV Video Music Awards and such. When did this all happen?

I really wondered about this today after getting rammed in the calf by a shopping card at my local supermarket. Granted I know it’s crowded and New Year’s Eve and people are doing their holiday food shopping. But an ‘excuse me’ really would have cushioned the blow. Instead I have a nice contusion on my pulpy flesh.

Honestly I’m used to it, living in New York and all, especially when I undertake to gridiron tactics at this particular grocery store. But I’m not going to blame this behavior on the Big Apple. I think this is happening everywhere.

People hit you in the street as they walk by, step on your toes on the subway, the list continues. Yet no one says ‘Sorry’. And the worst part is that it seems like people think this is appropriate behavior. I read recently that the best way to stop this kind of behavior is to be nasty back. I’m not sure if I agree with that tactic. But it sure feels like you have to say something when people are such jerks.

Has anyone else noticed this? Or am I just imagining things?

I'm Dreaming of a White New Year?

Yes, it's snowing again. As much as I love the snow, today, I'm finding it a bit annoying.

In the last month I've seen quite a bit of snow. Almost a foot was dropped here in the city about two weeks ago. Then due to the blizzard in Dallas, my flights to and from Mexico City were either cancelled or delayed. And now, I had to trudge through it carrying extremely heavy groceries in preparation for tomorrow's New Year's Day meal.

Ok ok, it's not really that bad. I'm just in a bad mood today and need to vent somewhere.

Regardless of the powder, I hope everyone has a lovely and safe New Year's Eve.

Where the Streets Have No Numbers

Traveling is so much fun for me because I get to see how people around the world live. It also shows me what they think is important and of value. I enjoy seeing those little things that are often missed on a quick tour but that say so much about the country.

At this moment, I'm writing from Mexico City as I've been spending some time with the Mexican-in-laws. Earlier this week we went to Cuernavaca, a city south of Mexico City to spend some time getting some sun and eating some wonderful Mexican home cooking.

It has been a long day before we arrived. Almost 24 hours in transit from New York, through Dallas, delayed by snow storms in the Lone Star State, only to get to my Mexican-in-laws Cuernavaca vacation home. And where do they live? None other than the "Street with No Name #10." For some reason this really felt like an excellent punctuation mark to this long day. It also told me that it doesn't matter where or what street you live on as long as there is a number involved.

The Best of 2009

Things that happened/that I enjoyed/that I'll remember about this year (in no particular order):
1)Completed my albatross
2)"Unaccustomed Earth" and "The White Tiger"
3)A broken elbow in July
4)A sprained ankle in November in Morocco
5)Pixar's 'Up' and Dug (SQUIRREL!!)
6)The Wedding in Tenerife
7)Liquid Poop
8)Callate Antonio!
9)The Cousins on the Continent - foto, please!
10)"Glee"
11) Michael Emerson and Terry O'Quinn on "Lost"
12)Hi-fiving my co-worker and missing
13)Brian Condon
14)Lucy Orly Toronto Cristol
15)Magnificent Morocco - a.k.a. I love olives
16) My friend's big, fat Greek wedding.
17) Billy Elliot
18) Vermont with the girls
19) Therese Raquin by Emile Zola
20) A day at the zoo in France

I'm sure I'm missing a bunch of stuff but I limited myself to 20 and I'll just have to honor the rest in their own posts.

Strike a Pose

Lately, I’ve had a little time on my hands so I’ve been checking and viewing my friend’s facebook pages. Reading and viewing the pictures and commentaries has been fun since it’s provided another view into my friends’ personalities.

However something I’ve noticed in my viewing of the pictures on these pages has disturbed me a bit. I’ve noticed a lot of pictures of women in groups standing sideways towards the camera. And in this position a number of the women have one hand on their hips. Now, I know this pose. I’ve seen it before….where?? Ah….the super model pose.

I’m baffled by the use of this photographic technique for two reasons:
1) I know magazines say to use it because it makes you look thinner
2) How can it make you look thin if you aren’t a supermodel to begin?

Of course it makes models look thin. They are skeletal at birth. And I’m pretty darn sure photographers make them use this pose so it’s easier for the viewer to actually identify a person attached to the jutting angularity of an elbow. If they were just standing sideways, they would be invisible or a thin line marking the photo.

For normal people, this pose looks ridiculous because it does not make you appear thin whatsoever (especially if you have arm jelly handing in space like that). It makes you look like you are uncomfortable with your body and that you are trying to hide it. Sadly all this very unnatural pose does is point out that you have no self-confidence and that you can’t think for yourself…that you need a magazine’s ideas (or the fashion world’s ideas for that matter) to superficially mask that you don’t like how you look.

Pillow Talk

One think I’ve learned as I’ve grown older is to lighten my load when traveling. Bringing and packing the bare minimum because it makes things easier when you have to get to the airport and when you are in the airport too. There’s nothing more annoying than having heavy things slowing you down.

I also bring a bag that I use as my carry-on that has a change of clothing and some toiletries. After being stuck in some remote place without a toothbrush and a change of underwear, you begin to see the value of that.

Something very common that I’ve noticed over the years is people traveling with a pillow. This strikes me as odd on a number of levels. First of all because no matter how you hold a standard pillow, it’s always bulky and cumbersome. It’s an exasperating thing to carry.

Secondly it’s odd because if you are traveling alone, where do you put it when you go to the restroom? I barely want to step into some airport bathrooms with my feet covered in biologically protected footwear. Why would I want to bring an item that touches my face into an unsanitary place like that?

I know it’s tough to sleep on planes and the daily comforts that we take for granted can play a big part in making these trips easier. But I just don’t think in the long run dragging a pillow around is more of a hassle than it is worth.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...

Chrisnukah!!

What am i talking about now? Well, living in the city all of my life, I've been surrounded by the holidays of both Christmas and Hanukah. They are almost one and the same to me since almost everyone I know celebrates one or the other. So why not blend them together and make one holiday so that we can all:

Decorate a tree
Light a pretty candlebra
Sing carols
Eat pieces of chocolate gelt
Dress up in a red velvet suit and wear a white beard
Spin some dreidels

Sadly, I don't know enough about Kwanzaa but I think it would be great to have one big holiday that lasts 8 days. During this holiday everyone could practice the traditions and ideas of all these spiritual beliefs. Who's with me?

I think we could all do with some more time with friends and family. It doesn't have to be about exchanging lots of big gifts. The biggest gift can just be surrounding yourself with those you love. And I don't mean spending time with people that are related to you that annoy you. I mean spending time playing games with your dearest and closest. Isn't that what a holiday is supposed to be?

Let It Snow

I absolutely love the first snowfall of the year. I don't really know why it is. There is something about the pristine clarity of the morning that makes me so happy to be alive. And then there are the doggies out and about enjoying the fluff. It just makes me feel like I'm a kid again.

What beautiful about this year's first snowfall is that it's close to Christmas so I want to sing. It makes me feel more in the holiday spirit. And this year, I've encountered an awful lot of grinches so it makes it lovelier to just stick it to them all.

As always Foxy was super excited to be bouncing around in the snow. She doesn't care how high the snow reaches, she jumps right in with reckless abandon. To see her doing that makes me so giddy. I get a high just from watching her happiness. I think if more people could feel that joyous about snow, we'd all be nicer people.

Yes, it slows things down. Yes, it's messy after a while. But couldn't we all use a little slowing down every so often? It's a pleasure to actually take my time to get places and enjoy the feel of the snow crunching under my boots.

It's these moments in life that we should embrace. Take a little time to enjoy nature and enjoy our lives. Snow helps us to remember the small details of life we often take for granted.

The Watch

The first time I saw it
Was just after Valentine’s Day
A lovely piece that wasn’t too ostentatious
Simple leather strap with some diamond-like items
Circling the face

It was a bright red color and it looked exquisite
On her delicate wrist
She never showed it off or made a big deal about it
But every day she wore it
And it must have reminded her of the person who purchased it
Could have been her own purchase
Or a gift
The way she took it off and looked at it though
Suggested it was a gift from someone she loved very much

Through the cold and the heat, it was always there.
She would rub it during meetings
Like it was as breakable as an egg.
Imagined that she only took it off to shower
It became like a second skin
Months went by and the piece never moved from
The inside pulse point
Until one day something different took its place
A plastic band of brown that matched her clothing
It stood out though because it wasn’t dainty like the other one
It didn’t blend into her wrist as the earlier piece had
It was a replacement
To tell the time
And chronicle her moments
But not to remind her of the love that was formerly there.

Guilty Pleasures #3

I watch way too much television, it’s true. Our DVR has so many shows on it, I’m not sure when I will ever see the percentage get down to the single digits again. But I can’t help watching some shows. They are schlocky and ridiculous but yet, I’m mesmerized by them and I’m not sure why.

One such show is Gossip Girl. I may not watch it religiously every week but I do marathons and I’m so hooked. It’s not as though I find any of the actors overly attractive and I can’t not watch because they are so yummy (it’s happened before…ahem ‘Smallville’) that my eyes are glued to the tv set. The plots are interesting but slightly formulaic and/or predictable (not like Lost which I confess to everyone is one of the best shows ever!!). Maybe it’s the clothes that the girls wear on the show. I wish I could fit into some of those outfits. Or maybe quite frankly it’s the fact that these people play teenagers and their skin is flawless!! When I was a teenager, please!! Bumps popped up left and right at any given moment….why don’t they have this problem??

Of course I know it’s because the actors are in their 20s so they don’t have teenage acne. But they don’t have adult acne either!! And none of these people have braces which I had in my early teens. And all of these girls know how to put makeup on well. Please, that took somewhere in my mid to late 20’s to get decent (let’s not talk about perfecting..I’m still working on it). Maybe I’m just fascinated by airbrushing…and that’s why I watch the show.

Honesty...Best Policy?

Many parents teach their children to be honest and it’s a great lesson. As you get older though, that lesson’s theory becomes quite different in practice. I am a firm believer in being honest but there are times when I’m not so sure if my instinct to do so is such a good idea.

For instance, because I’m a big believe in Murphy’s law, I don’t like to tell the complete truth if I think that it might bring about bad luck. For instance, a friend of mine was interviewing for a position different than the one she was already occupying and she asked my advice. She wondered if she should tell her current boss that she was interviewing. My advice to her was ‘No’. Now some people would say that’s dishonest but I would say it’s better to be cautious. Since you can never tell how a person is going to react when you tell them the truth, it’s sometimes better to just avoid telling them for a while. I know, I’m horrible. But in this instance, what if my friend’s boss got upset that she was interviewing? She could begin to make her current work life a million times more horrible than it already was. Or, what if she didn’t get the job that she was interviewing for and her boss now knew she was interviewing, then the boss might get upset that she was looking to leave and make her current work life a billion times worse than it already was. Plus, by going out there and saying she was interviewing seemed silly if there wasn’t a job offer yet. Don’t count your eggs before they hatch type of deal, you know??

I’m a big believer in treating others as I’d like to be treated. So if one of my employees were to tell me they were interviewing, I don’t think I’d get upset. I might want to know why or how I had failed them as a manager, but I don’t think I would become vindictive. But the problem is that you never know how others will act.

Let’s take an example from the past when I’ve been honest. Long ago I told someone my true feelings for them and they seemed happy with the news at first. But after some time, the person began to be someone other than who I thought they were. And that’s fine and I could say that I finally learned what the person was really like by being honest. But I certainly would have enjoyed not feeling like a big ball of confused poop for that time when they were deciding how to deal with my news.

Basically, being honest in every single action isn’t as easy as the advice to be that way is. Overall, I think it is best to be honest but the fact is that I can’t expect that everyone around me will be as open to honesty and be as mature with the information as I think I am. And that my friend is part of the honesty is the best policy talk that I think every parent and person should pass along.

What’s in a Name?

My man, Bill Shakespeare said that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. He may have had a point there. What Willy Shakes didn’t quite consider is what happens when you mess up a person’s name or give them a completely different name.

My husband has a horrible memory for people’s names. He often decides to christen them a name completely different from the one their parents gave them at birth.

Here’s are a couple of examples:
1) The brother of my good friend has been renamed David by my husband. His Christian name is Joseph. I have no idea why my husband thinks that David fits him better but Gosh forbid I can get him to call him by his real name any more.
2) At a wedding we met a couple whose names were Pablo and Elizabeth. Pretty easy to me. But when we saw them at the airport the next morning my husband claimed ‘Hey there is Mike!’
My response was to look around to see if there was a Mike around that I knew. No Mike!
“Where is Mike?”
“Right there” he pointed to Pablo
“Honey, that’s Pablo. Not Mike.”
“He doesn’t look like a Pablo and his wife doesn’t look like an Elizabeth. Maybe a Carolina but definitely not an Elizabeth.”
I basically just rolled my eyes and continued to wait in the check out line

Now, don’t get me wrong. This kind of thing has happened to me as well.
In the early stages of one of my book clubs, we were meeting at particularly noisy places. We went around introducing ourselves and one gentleman said his name was Devon. And so that his name stuck with me and I would remember it, I repeated it. Later on, I learned his name was Daniel. To this day though, I refer to him as Devon even though I know his name is Daniel.

What I’m suggesting is that no matter what we want, we should try to really learn people’s names, even if they don’t ‘fit’ them.

At a Loss for Words

As I’ve grown older, I am less likely to talk. Yes, I am becoming the curmudgeon I always thought I’d never become. (Well, I guess I’m not really a curmudgeon because they usually yell and rant and rave, right? They are usually men too but you know what, I think curmudgeons can be any gender!) I just feel like people don’t listen so what’s the point in talking.

It’s funny because this has been a constant bone of contention with certain people. They want me to talk more but these are the same people who interrupt me when I talk. Or they squash exactly what I have to say. And whenever I do talk to them, they don’t listen to a single thing I say….So I say why talk when no one is listening?

It gets more and more complicated when you feel like the people who have been listening to you all along have now turned a deaf ear to you. When did it become so difficult? When did people stop listening? I’m sure the need to be heard will not go away. So, my friends, how do we get people to listen?

I’ve been accused of not being a good listener by some but I don’t think that’s true. Perhaps the problem lies in me. In order for more people to listen more attentively, I have to be able to listen more attentively myself.

Useless Information

Pigs, dogs, and some other animals can taste water, but people cannot. Humans don’t actually taste water; they only taste the chemicals and impurities in the water.

As you can tell from scanning my blog, I have this silly gadget called ‘Useless Information’ in the top portion of the page. I pulled this bit from it a while ago. I thought it was quite interesting. I’ve often complained about this very thing to people. How can I drink the recommended amount of water every day when it doesn’t taste like anything but plastic, chemicals and such?

My dogs, they drink up water the way I eat chocolate – with fervor and reckless abandon. I wouldn’t mind doing that. Why can’t they make water taste like chocolate?

Anyway, that’s my input for the day.

Adjustment Bureau

On a recent walk around the block at work, my co-worker and I noticed some signs of a movie being filmed. The name on the signs was “Adjustment Bureau”. This didn’t sound like a decent movie name to me. My co-worker asked who I thought might star in a movie like that. I said ‘No one because it sounds like a fake movie name to me’. My thinking was that if they put the real name up, people would be flocking to these locations to be ‘extras’ on these movies.

My co-worker decided to look up ‘Adjustment Bureau’ on Google. And lo and behold, it’s a real movie. I still don’t think I’d want to see this movie. The title does nothing for me but who knows. Based on the actor, I might go see it.

Goes to show you, you can’t just a movie by its title.

Don't Stop Believin'

A few days ago my husband sent me a video of someone caught dancing at a wedding or some other type of festivity. The dancer was clearly drunk but boy! could this guy move! I mean that sarcastically. I have to find a way to link to the video on my blog so you can see it.

What I loved about this video, aside from its making me cry, is watching the pure joy this person was having while dancing. The creativity alone was something that amazed me beyond the extension of my dumbfounded jaw hanging off my face. Basically, it reminded me that every where you go now, someone has a camera. And if you can't believe how stupid people can be, this one will evoke the title of this blog.

I'm pretty sure my husband has a link to it on his page. It's called Baile Duranguense....enjoy!

Laughter in New York

I’m catching up on a lot of blog writing I should have done a while ago. Every so often my husband and I go to comedy events. After all laughter is the best medicine. Last month we went to see the British comedian, Ricky Gervais, give a show at Carnegie Hall.
It was the second part of a show that he did last year which was on HBO.

Now he’s got something that I find very funny. I’m not entirely sure what it is but he just has a way of putting things that make me crack up. And I know that the job of comedian but it’s sometimes the subject(s) of their routine that make them more memorable than the comedian themselves.

Ricky Gervais likes talking about animals and wildlife and useless fact about animals. I find this very funny and endearing. The best part of his routine was an explanation of the Noah’s Ark story that just made tears stream down my eyes from the silliness of it. It’s what I appreciate about being an adult. You often see and hear things as a child that you take at face value. But as an adult you notice things from a different perspective and you question those ideas/thoughts you once had. I guess that’s what I appreciate about his comedy.

And what made this event even better is that at the end of his act, there was a guest appearance by none other than Elmo, the Sesame Street character. Not only was this to celebrate 40 years of Sesame Street but it was also a way of showing Ricky Gervais in an entirely different and endearing light. He and Elmo belted out “New York, New York” together to much applause. Overall it was a lovely end to a very lively evening.

Reflections on the Past

I’m not sure how I let so much time go by without talking about a recent event. Two months ago I went to see U2 (my super favorite band) in concert. It was a truly magical night even if I can’t say it was their best performance. It’s even hard for me to say that because really every time I see them I am mesmerized. And I was mesmerized but in a very different way than I had been in the past.

A few of the times I’ve seen them they have played arenas and for me that is where they shine. There is a level of intimacy with the audience that is reached in those smaller venues that makes you feel like you are transcending human flesh. This time around, seeing them in a stadium, I was reminded of their creativity. The stage looked like an immense spider with legs located in various points of the globe. The circular stage (what I would call the body of the spider) had a bridge that spun around the whole circle allowing the band members to reach and be seen by all audience members. This design made the group viewed by all – 360 degrees of U2. (That’s pretty much how they got the name of the tour.) I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Part of why I didn’t comment about this earlier is that I was testing a hypothesis. As many of you know, I adore this group – each and every one of them. Of course I think Bono is the best thing since chocolate. But I wanted to see if perhaps I’m not tooting their horn a bit too much. Before their recent album came out I voraciously read every article and review. The band had mentioned how they went to Fez and the music and ambience there had considerable inspired this album.

Having returned from Morocco (a place I’d always wanted to go to anyway), I can and can’t say that I felt this influence. There wasn’t a lot of Muslim musical influence but there was a sense of peace in the album that I definitely sensed in Fez. This is what I was testing out. Were they pulling my leg with that malarkey about Fez? No. Many other people said they felt the same thing and they didn’t mention any appreciation or love of U2.

This made me more convinced of how wonderful this group is. Even though some people say they have sold out, which I can totally see, they have an enormous place in my heart. It’s rare that you find a group whose lyrics and spirit fill you with a sense of pride and emotion. They certainly have not been a flash in the pan. Although some people say they are past their prime, I still think they have a lot left to say and contribute to the world.

Guilty Pleasures Redux

I love the show ‘Glee’. Even though I find a couple of the characters incredibly annoying and grating on my nerves, the rest of the show and characters truly makes up for it. I love the writing as some of the lines make me howl (leading my husband to always ask what I’m watching).

I’m happy that it’s doing well and that people are watching it. I’d hate to get inspired and enthusiastic about a show again only to see it canceled. (See past blog ‘Idiot Box’) The musical numbers along with it are creative and the story lines are clever. If you haven’t caught the bug, I suggest you give it a try. You’ll probably be pleasantly surprised.

Now I’m going to make my way to another site to see what they said about last night’s episode.

Deja Vu

Different moments in your life play out as if you are experiencing déjà vu. Two instances that are similar enough to seem like you are repeating a pattern or are the exact same in some particular way, yet completely different.

Twice this year I saw the world happening around me pass diagonally in front of my eyes. By diagonally I mean as I fell at an angle to the floor, everything moved by in a range of degrees swiftly from 90 to 0. This particular perspective happened so fast that it was impossible to even stop or cushion the incidents from happening. Yet, when they were completed some of the actions were a carbon copy.

- People circling in to help me
- The question ‘Are you ok?’ being uttered
- The embarrassment of not being able to see a step in front of my eyes
- The frustration moments later of a new injury to my already bruised and scarred body.

Earlier this year, I took a fall before meeting a friend for lunch and I broke my elbow and sprained my wrist. This event had already marked 2009 as a banner year. And yesterday morning I fell again getting off a sidewalk to try to step onto a bus that was going to bring myself, my husband and other to the airport.

I’m certain that I sprained my ankle due to the new second ankle that has seemed to grow on top of my existing angle. I’ve scraped my knee as well. This will serve as a culminating reminder to an otherwise lovely vacation.

These similar moment will be etched into my memory for years to come and will replay themselves if I should ever find myself being clumsy again.

Language Barriers

As some of you know, my husband’s (also known as The Mexican) mother tongue is Spanish. He speaks English pretty darn well but on occasion, we have some interesting examples of miscommunication.

A couple of weeks ago as I was getting ready for work and it was a bit colder than normal.

“Bungle up! It’s chilly outside.”

Yes, he said ‘bungle up’. Despite my correcting him a million times on how he should be saying bundle up, he claims that I don’t know English very well. I’ve also explained that this way of expressing himself is suggesting that getting prepared for the cold makes people clumsy. Yet, there is no chance in a cold hell that he will ever fix this mistake in his verbal dictionary of idioms and phrases.

Another one, which oddly has to do with weather, too, is the popular ‘wind chill factor’ component of temperature in the middle of winter. Often a range of temperatures is given for a cold winter day but an additional feature is mention about what it feels like if there is wind in the forecast. That is known as the wind chill factor. So it could be 20-25 degrees but the wind chill factor will make it seem like it’s perhaps 10-15 degrees. This assists in planning how you will get dressed or just give the awareness of how it really feels like to be outside. Oh but this is not how my husband explains this phenomena. He calls it the ‘wind shield factor’. I’m not sure when he created this new phenomena but it’s obviously what he thought they said. No matter how many times I tell him it’s wind chill factor, he insists that I have a chunk of wax in my ear that blocks my ability to hear what the meteorologists are really saying.

So I’ve stopped correcting him. I just make fun of him about it. And I tell everyone in the hope that maybe one day some one will have a nervous breakdown on his misuse of these common phrases and will make him change his ways. I’m pretty sure that won’t happen but at least now you will know that you didn’t hear my husband incorrectly. He did say ‘bungle up’ and ‘wind shield factor’.

Guilty Pleasures

#1

Almost every Friday I rush home to check my mail. Please, please!! Be there! YES!!! I sit down for a good 20 minutes and devour my Entertainment Weekly with a Cheshire cat smile on my face. Ahh! Such a great feeling.

I’m not entirely sure why I love this magazine so. Perhaps it’s the funny bits of information about celebrities and shows that reminds me of something I would write. Or perhaps it’s how it encapsulates all the important entertainment bits of the week in something only 100 pages long. I just don’t know. But be warned, you should never interrupt my weekly (except for those double issues randomly interspersed) reading.

A couple of years ago, I flipped my lid a bit and realized that my copy was coming every Monday instead of the Friday prior as it had usually arrived. I began to wonder if my mailman wasn’t stealing my copy every Friday and reading it and then returning it on Monday. I’m that obsessed!! I never got to the bottom of that mystery. However, truth be told, mess with my Entertainment Weekly and you mess with me!

Scandalous Headlines

“THEFT!! Sweaty, stinky new sports bra, only used once, stolen!”
It’s a headline you could see on any daily news paper. Or is it? Probably more fitting of some spin off of the National Enquirer. Regardless, it happened and that’s what we need to discuss.

My co-worker told me the other day how she had gone to the gym as part of her usual routine. The details of her workout are unimportant. What is pertinent is that after showering and changing and leaving the gym, she later realized that she had left her sports bra at the gym.

The next day she went to see if anyone had reported a missing sports bra. Sadly, and this really is sad, no one had turned it in. Someone had stolen a worn and used sports bra. Perhaps someone threw it out. Regardless, didn’t anyone think that someone would miss the stench-ridden, sporty, breast-confining exercise necessity?

After my recent postings at the gym, it’s a wonder that I continue to go. But could this be the last straw? Nah. Probably not, but I’m beginning to wonder if there isn’t some crazy stalker who took my co-worker’s sports bra out there. Hmmmm. Something to ponder. Something to ponder. I guess the bigger question is: what is this world coming to when even your stinky sports bras aren’t safe from theft?

Out of Habit

The other day I went to get my teeth cleaned at the dentist. The usual 6 month check up. My teeth felt clean and wonderful and sparkling. I left the office rolling my tongue along my teeth and feeling the smooth surface of my pearly beiges (I just can't claim to have pearly whites and you'll shortly see why). It was great.

Prancing down the block to make it to another appointment, what should I see but STARBUCKS! My second home! I practically dove into the locale and purchased my caramel macchiato with glee. I chugged it down and let out a happy ‘ahhh!’ as if it were the first cup of coffee I’d had since the arabica been was found.

Instantaneously, I became upset because I realized that I had just had my teeth cleaned. Nice and white but only for a few seconds. Addictions are bad….remember that, my friends.

The Importance of Being Learned

I am one of the biggest proponents to getting a college degree and having an education. It’s important to making a life for yourself before ever getting involved in a relationship. I’m probably crazy for that but it seems I am not the only one.

Last night I saw ‘An Education’ by Lone Scherfig. I was delighted to see such a wonderful story that encourages young people to pursue and complete their academic interests.

The movie is set in 1961 so the priorities of young women were a bit different than they are today. Jenny is encouraged by her parents to pursue academic excellence and to apply to Oxford University. Jenny has a great understanding and love of English literature and she intends to continue that love in college.

Along the way life happens and her priorities sway a bit. Ultimately though, she comes back to her starting point – she needs to go to Oxford. I highly recommend this movie. I feel like I might pass the movie along to future generations too.

The Bird

Sadly, I have a lot of joint problems. When I get up from sitting too long, I sound like someone is stepping on bubble wrap. Little pops and cracks sound as I walk. I crack my knuckles and neck often to alleviate the pressure that builds up in those spots. Whenever I do yoga, my body sounds like a bebe gun going off. My mom has rheumatoid arthritis and I’m pretty sure I have it too.

A couple of weeks ago, I felt like a number of my joints has swelled but I couldn’t quite tell because I’m used to looking at them all the time. Nothing looked out of the ordinary to me. My finger joints were especially tender to the touch and hurt more than usual. I decide to ask someone else for an opinion.
My husband was sitting at his computer watching another set of Muppet clips on YouTube when I approached.

“I think my joints are swollen. Can you take a look?”

I stuck up my middle finger for him to look at, because it was the most painful of the bunch.

“Oh very nice. I’m just sitting here bothering no one and you come over here and give me the bird! Very nice!”

I honestly hadn’t even put two and two together. However, I started laughing uncontrollably when I realized what I had done.

I told him that it wasn’t a joke that I was really asking for his opinion. It just happened that the joint that was bothering the most and that I thought was swollen was my middle finger. But he didn’t believe me.

So for all I know, I was going through a brief bout of gout or an arthritic flare up but I’ll never know if he agreed with me because I was not so nice to him. Sometimes pain just makes you do crazy things!

The Box of Chocolates

My husband claims that he doesn’t like sweets. I do occasionally crave them when I’m stressed or just want something to calm me down after a hard day. There isn’t much that comes close to that feeling of satisfaction that one gets after a delicious piece of chocolate. My preference is dark chocolate.

About a month ago I bought a box of chocolate to give as a gift to someone. I hadn’t yet given it to them because I’ve been busy and so has she. Then one day I pulled the box out of the refrigerator to check on it. (I put them in the fridge so that they don’t melt.) The box felt suspiciously lighter than I had remembered when I bought it. And, the plastic wrap that covered the box was gone. I know I put on a quizzical look because I wondered who could have eaten some of the chocolates. I opened the box to find only 3 chocolates left. Could the dogs have learned how to open the fridge door? Could they have been feasting on these luxurious chocolates when I wasn’t in the house?? Hmmmm.

As I normally do, I ask my husband questions when things seem out of place or odd. So, I walked into the bedroom with the aforementioned pilfered piece box of chocolate. I shook it in my hand and said to him “Any ideas about who has been eating these chocolates?’ He blushed and try to avoid my eye contact. RED HANDED!!

“I don’t know!” he mumbled without looking at me.

So then I said “I thought you didn’t like sweets!!??”

“I couldn’t help it. Godiva chocolates are so good!”

I turned around and walked out of the room. It’s nice to know that Godiva makes such good chocolates that it can convert a professed ‘non-sweets’ lover into a cocoa thief. But I was still upset that I’d have to spend the money to buy a replacement box for my friend.
MEN!!

Throwing in the Towel

I’m seriously beginning to wonder why I bother to go the gym at all. In the last few weeks, I’ve noticed that the towels that are distributed at the gym are just smaller than they used to be. As I sweat a waterfall and prepare to take a shower, I wrap a towel around my waist. I should say I attempt to wrap a towel around my waist. Where is the towel? Why is it so small? Have they begun to give out hand towels instead of bath towels?

I can barely stick one end of the towel into the other to cover myself. I have to walk around holding the towel so I wonder what the heck the point is. And then I realized that this might be the club’s way of getting people to feel more confident of walking in the nude. Could it be? I don’t think so. I just think that there is some kind of conspiracy going on. Or, I’m gaining weight instead of losing it. Even Fat Bastard had a towel that covered him. I might have to reconsider my trips to the gym….

Here

Here they tell you

To write differently

To not be you

Here they tell you to act a certain way

A way that is unnatural

To who you are

And what you think

Here they tell you to think out of the box

But when you do they criticize you

Here they tell you to be efficient but

How are bureaucracy and hierarchy a means of progress?

Here they tell you to speak your mind

But when you do, you get crucified.

You get told to control your thoughts, don’t show your emotions.

Become a robot.

Here you need to say yes and never disagree

Here they kill your spirit

Here they make you work long hours

And when you do, they give insincere thanks

And nothing of meaning – no bonus, no constructive criticism.

Feedback is meant to be just feedback

But it kills your spirit and makes you wonder

Why you bother to get up every morning to

Come to a place that doesn’t appreciate you

For the great person you are

If you are intelligent, you won’t get anywhere

Where you get tortured worse than in a prison camp

Because it’s emotional and mental

All there is to know about here is

That it’s time to run far away.

Stress Relief

Almost every morning I drag myself out of bed to get to the gym. I need to pursue this routine to release stress but also for my health. Lately this task is creating more stress than relief.

This morning I got on the elliptical machine with my book in tow. I was climbing, climbing along and sweating up puddles when I heard someone who sounded like they were regurgitating. I wondered who was going through this action and hoped that maybe they had left the gym if they weren’t feeling well. Two seconds later, ‘Hack, Hack!’ again. I looked to see where this noise was coming from and it was none other than the guy on the machine next to me.

I continued my work out and decided that if he did it again, I would say something. And of course he did. Hack! Hack!

So I said, “Excuse me, but you don’t sound very good. Are you sure you should be exercising?”

His response was to ignore me and continue to hack away.

I really wanted to whack him in the face with the tome that I’ve been reading. Instead, I just got off this machine and moved to the one as far from him as possible.

So I asked myself why people insist on being jerks. This, of course, was completely against the reasons I go to the gym. Thinking this way only made my stress levels raise. In order to bring them back down, I decided I’d go kick one of the punching bags and pretend the punching bag was hacking man. I felt better almost immediately.

Great Expectations

You can never expect others to be like you. It might be really cool but actually, it’s not. This immense world is made up of so many unique people that it would be boring to have two people be the exact same. This week’s theme, boys and girls, was expectations of others.

The first time it reared its head was in an argument with my husband. He had said to me many times that I expect him to be like me. For some reason, this week, the accusation finally hit home. I occasionally do expect too much of him where I don’t usually of others. I realized that I needed to take a step back and reevaluate my treatment of him. I’m not entirely sure where this re-focus will take me or us but it was something that had to be done for both my benefit and for us as a couple.

The next time the theme of expectations reared its ugly head had to do with a work situation. Someone accused someone else of something and I didn’t think this accusation was accurate for a number of reasons. 1) The person making the accusation is guilty of the activity themselves. That stuff always bothers me 2) Even if the accusation is true, why can’t people see past certain things to understand what is really going on behind certain types of manifestations? 3) If you give people feedback about their flaws, that doesn’t mean you can’t live with it to some degree and learn to look past them, right?

What bothered me about this second demonstration of expectations is that you can’t change people. You can only change yourself. So, before you go out saying stuff about people, look inward first. Are you complaining about something in another person that you do yourself? If that’s the case, you should probably be the brave person and work on your own issues first before projecting onto others. It seems like a small step but it isn’t. However if more people would do this, then it would save an awful lot of heartache and animosity in the long run.

Leaves of Tea

About a month ago, I co-hosted a baby shower for a dear friend. One of the key parts of this event was a tea leaf reading. I think fortune telling can be great fun. I’ve had my palm read on numerous occasions and have had my tarot cards done as well. However, I’ve never had my tea leaves read.

In hindsight some of the things that were told to me at past fortune telling events have actually come true. I find this fascinating because at the moment when the actual fortune is being told, I think it’s a big bowl of malarkey. Of course everything is a thousand times clearer in hindsight, don’t you know.

My reading contained an awful lot of animals which lead many of the attendees of the baby shower to conclude that perhaps I am moonlighting as a farmer when I’m not working in corporate America. The first animal that was mentioned was the zebra. The explanation of this animal is that I have to accept change because like a zebra “I can’t change my stripes.” So at some point in the next couple months a major event was going to happen that I just had to accept. Hmmmm…

Along with the zebra, there were a number of dogs which made complete sense since I already have two. In the company of these two dogs, I’d be adding another dog in a few short months. The description of the dog was given to me as well. I’ve certainly kept my eyes peeled for this dog.

Then the menagerie became a little odder. Somehow I’m supposed to meet a horse. The fortune teller asked me if I liked horses and I said, “I don’t dislike horses. As long as an animal isn’t a snake, I’m ok with it.”

A couple of weddings are supposed to happen in which I’ll play a big part. I didn’t realize I knew so many people getting married in upcoming months. Fascinating really. The utterance of a cat was conveyed of which I’d have to be most careful because it represented a woman in my life.

The last of the animal kingdom to make an appearance in my fortune was a turtle. The turtle represented calmness because a turtle just floats in the ocean and doesn’t disturb and isn’t disturbed by too many things. Ultimately, things would seem easier in my life by the end of next year.

It was a pretty interesting activity and everyone who had their leaves read discussed their fortunes with the other attendees and some were very funny. Overall, I’m happy with what the fortune teller had to say because at least I won’t be plagued by a pointy-faced man who happened to grace a couple of the other ladies’ fortunes.

Enjoy the Silence

For all the wonders of communication that I proclaim on a daily basis, there is something to also be said about silence. I spend a lot of my work day listening to and engaging in idle chit chat because it’s the polite thing to do. After a while I just want to tell people to pipe down and just keep it to themselves. I don’t care to hear all your shallow breathing and useless words. I don’t care to look at your family pictures or know what you did over the weekend. I know that sounds horrible but there are some people whose mere utterances just drive me up the wall.

You know who they are - people who talk just to hear themselves talking. Yet they proclaim that others do the same thing without once looking at their own behavior. It’s maddening really.

Every so often it’s just nice to hear the clicking of the keyboard and the generation and production of work without being interrupted by some meathead chatting his brain out on the other side of the floor. And, really, do we need to hear this noise? Is it going to fight cancer or stop world hunger? No! So, how about every so often (maybe once a day), why don’t we all just sit in complete silence around other people and just enjoy it. It’s really a very nice thing to do. It could teach us how important words really are when we don’t overuse them. We know we over consume…does it have to be that way with words too?

Celebrity Sightings

The other night I went out to dinner with the Mexican. It’s our little tradition to go out and have a little date night every so often. We sat outside, which I don’t often do, because the Mexican got there before I did. Outside dining is tricky – people gawk at what you are eating, the possibility of bugs landing in your food is higher, and sometimes I get distracted because I’m people watching so I don’t pay attention to my husband. It’s counterintuitive to the purpose of date night. Oh well, these things happen, right?

As my husband spent most of the night watching the people go by, I made cooing sounds at the dogs and babies that pranced or strolled past me. It was a very productive date night for communication between us!

We shared our entrees and made fun of each other as we are wont to do and we finished up. On our way home, we saw a very famous actor. And he was exactly my height! I squeezed my husband’s hand and he squeezed mine back in an understanding of who we had just passed.

Then when the actor was out of earshot I said to my husband, “Maybe I can start my acting career since I’m the same height!” To which my toweringly tall husband said “Yes, honey!”

A few moments later my husband said “Actors really must love living in New York because people just don’t want to bother them.” He’s right! In my decades of living here, I have only gone up to one person and that person is not someone anyone in their right mind would know. I have seen so many celebrities and the most I will do is smile at them in that knowing way but I don’t bother them. I think most people in New York feel the same way. Deep inside New Yorkers and celebrities have the same modus operandi in coming to the Big Apple. We want to make it here and we want anonymity. Those people who act ridiculously in front of celebrities were obviously dropped on their heads in their youth. That’s why they can’t make these coorelations.

Bone Crunching

Falling asleep is sometimes a difficult thing for me to accomplish. Even though I do all the necessary things to help myself naturally fall asleep (except for the tv in the bedroom!! I can’t control that!), it can take a long time to get me snoring. I usually try to read a book to get me sleepy. But with a elephant footed upstairs neighbor, it’s hard to really concentrate.

What I found lately is that one of the best sounds to create soporific effects in me is the sound of my dogs chewing on their rawhide bones. Now, if any human actually chewed like that I would tell them to go back to their mothers and take a refresher course. They chew open-mouthed and full of glee. It’s really delightfully sleep inducing.

I also find the sound of them lapping at their water dish is quite relaxing as well. All of this proves that having a pet is really a very relaxing thing. :o)

Artichoke Hearts

Summer time is one of my favorite times of year solely for the cornucopia of fruits and vegetables that one finds at markets and stores. I love to eat fresh corn, peaches, nectarines and watermelons. But I especially love artichokes. I try to eat as many of them before the cold weather puts a kabash on that.

Recently, I bought a few to make for dinner and I set a pot of water on the stove to boil when I realized that I had forgotten a couple of things at the grocery store. So I told my husband to keep an eye on the boiling pot for the artichokes while I went to get the missing provisions.

I mustn’t have been gone for more than 15 minutes when I came in and saw whole artichokes bobbing in the boiling water. Yes, my husband had tried to help but ….ah if only cooking artichokes were as easy as popping them in the boiling water. I explained to him that you have to cut them in half and take all the thorny insides out and such. He pouted and walked away saying ‘I didn’t know. I was trying to help.’

If you look at an artichoke, it’s hard to know that you have to do so much preparation. So I giggled at him, not because he was dumb but because he was very cute. The intentions were there and that’s really what makes all the difference.

Getting My Goat

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who contact you only when they need something from you. I really want to tell them to shove it! A former collegue who I checked up on a while ago just to see how they were doing, didn’t reply back. It was a simple note to just say hi. I like to do that kind of thing, darn it. Months went by, no reply. I brushed it off as an ‘oh well’ event.

Then this week out of the human sludge, came an email asking how I was and if I could write them a recommendation. Hello!! No!! Now that you need something from me, you contact me?

Ok, so I am a wuss. I wrote a recommendation but I didn’t bother to answer any of their small talk email chatter. I believe in karma. God knows that I am seriously being punished for some horrendous tragedies that I’ve committed in a past life. I hope people will be a little more conscientious that it’s nice to contact people even if you don’t need something from them.

Little Mismatched

There is this young adult clothing shop called Little MissMatched where all the accessories are colorful and mismatched. It’s quite adorable. However this entry refers to some of my recent clothing faux pas. (Reminder to self to look up how to make a foreign word plural when used in English.)

At my dearly beloved cubicle, I tend to sit with my bare feet swinging from my chair. Whenever I get up to go to the pantry or bathroom, I put on my shoes that are just underneath my desk. Of late, work has been incredibly chaotic so I’ve not been able to place my rotation of work shoes in my closet. So, the other day, I got up to go to the bathroom, put on a pair of shoes and walked down the aisles.

I noticed a couple of people looking me up and down and thought to myself ‘I know this sling (recent elbow fracture) sure is weird. No wonder they are looking at me’. I also thought maybe I just looked cute in my skirt. Oh no, dear reader, that was not why they were looking at me. As I walked into the bathroom stall and squatted to do my business, lo and behold, I had two completely different shoes on. Fantastic stuff! So, I did what nature called me to do and then I pulled off my shoes and walked back to my desk barefoot. (Thank goodness for carpeting!). I preceded to tell my co-worker who said she would cover my back next time by looking at my feet whenever I walked by to ensure that this wouldn’t happen again.

Ah but if it’s not for shoes, then it’s something else. Today, I went to the gym dressed in my sweats and followed my usual morning routine. I could tell it was going to be an interesting day because I had left my book at home. (I usually read a book while I do cardio.) I worked up a sweat listening to my ipod, went to the locker room, undressed, showered and prepared to get dressed in my work clothes when….I realized that I didn’t pack a regular bra in my bag. All I had was my clothes, underwear and that’s it. No bra! Since I couldn’t go braless without falling chest first all day long, I decided I would have to wear my sweaty sports bra under my blouse. And to cover up the black sports bra peeking out of my transparent blouse, I had to wear a sweater in the humidity. Lucky that I usually bring a sweater with me in the heat and humidity. Sometimes Antarctic temperatures at work can work to one’s advantage.

Yes, I know. I’m a mess but if I weren’t would I be sitting here typing my escapades. No, I wouldn’t.

Divine Comedian

A couple of months ago, I went to see Roberto Benigni give his first American show about none other than Dante’s Inferno. Ok I know…this is just too much highbrow for everyone but I love Dante’s Inferno. I love the whole Divine Comedy. It’s exquisite and people just don’t have feelings like that any more. Not to mention to hear it read by someone in the original language will just make you quiver.

However, before Benigni jumped into a recitation of a Canto, he did his usual thing. He was the energetic comedian that Italy knows and loves. (Of course some Americans know him too because of the movie “Life Is Beautiful”). He was bouncing around and sweating and just being his charming self. I felt like bouncing around along with him. After about a half hour of his commentaries on the world, he dove into a specific canto of the Inferno that he explained to us in English. This was a pretty funny task since some of the canto involved some history that was happening at the time that Dante had written the work. He compared these pieces to modern day event which was very funny.

After going through this canto, he finally read the canto aloud by memory in Dante’s original Italian. I got goose bumps. The previously hot performance center made my tingle with cold. My husband thought it was equally amazing to hear this silly man take a dramatic turn. I was awestruck.

If I hadn’t already thought he was wonderful, that performance would have done it. Now I just think he’s a god. A truly divine comedian.

Scar Tissue

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/21/health/21case.html?ref=health

I always say that scars build character and that each scar is a story. The NY Times thinks so too. Well, Dana Jennings does. He talks about the many scars that he has and a little about how he got them.

Scars are an enormous part of my life. My body is pocked with scars like a treasure map. I used to be very embarrassed of my scars but now I realize there are more important things than being self-conscious about a stitch.

I got my first scar, at least the first one I recall, when I was 5. I had a bone infection but doctors were quite sure what I had. They performed a biopsy on my leg and that’s the first of the many scars I’ve gotten in my life. When doctors finally figured out what was wrong with me, I was awarded a long scar down my left shin. I was 6 and I remember having to wear a cast for 3 months in the middle of the summer. I missed out on a lot of the summer fun but have interesting memories from that time as well, which I’ll talk about in another blog eventually.

And then the list just kept growing and I’ve forgotten when and how I got many of my scars. In a strange way, I am proud of my scars. They are reminders of tests that I have been put through where I came out with a few battle wounds.

My scars often remind me too that if I didn’t have those scars, my life could have turned out very differently. I could have passed away during some of my surgeries, but I’m here. I am incredibly happy to be alive and I’m so ecstatic that my body allows me to do what I do. Often too many people complain about their bodies and I think if people were reminded on a daily basis of how lucky we are to be alive, then maybe they wouldn’t complain about such ephemeral stuff like their looks and being thin.

The Big Screen

Last Friday I went to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. The film itself was wondrous and beautiful in many scenes. Kudos to cinematography! The acting as usual was stupendous especially Alan Rickman’s portrayal of Snape.

However, I could have done without the company in which I found myself. #1) I went to see it alone which was not as fun as the big group viewing that I’ve planned with my friends on previous releases. #2) Someone bought a tiny baby to the theatre and it started to cry. This resulted in a number of people telling the parent/babysitter to get the heck out of the theatre. That was resolved pretty quickly. #3) (This is the real zinger that aggravated me through the whole film) The meathead sitting next to me shoveled a large popcorn, a large soda and an enormous bag of Twizzlers into his mouth before the film. He then proceeded to burp through the WHOLE MOVE!

I don’t care if you burp. Really, I don’t. It’s a normal bodily function. I just have a problem with you burping through the whole movie and never saying ‘Sorry’ or ‘Excuse Me!’ Is that too much to ask? I think not!

Why should every bit of dialogue be punctuated with the gurglings and noises coming from your stomach?

What’s more annoying is how a number of times I actually said ‘Excuse me!’ to the guy and he was clueless that I was referring to him. Once again, what is wrong with people?

If you have any clue, please let me know.

Contradictory Characteristics #1

One of my favorite things to do is watch people committing contradictory actions. This is not to say that I don’t commit such actions. It’s just something I find comical.

For instance, this morning in the elevator the doors were about to close and a person screamed out ‘Hold the Door!’ I walked up to the panel and pushed the ‘door open’ button and a gentleman walked onto the car. He said ‘thank you’ but then proceeded to press the ‘door close’ button. He pressed it a number of times actually. I thought this was very funny and laughed to myself.

Here’s this guy who got into the elevator by the skin of his teeth and yet, he doesn’t want that anyone else should have that luck? Isn’t that weird to you?

Coffee Break

Sometime after lunch
But before the end of the day
A moment
To take a quick
Breather
From the work
From the aggravation
To discuss
Politics
Family
Sociological Quandaries
Work
A walk around the block.
A journey to the local
Coffee purveyor.
Chocolate for a weary soul.
All an excuse to vent
And talk to each other
One-on-one
Away from the eavesdropping
Ears
In a more private place.

The routine is established
The invitees can change but
Are usually the same duo.
Those few moments become more
Important than
The eight plus hours
In a cubicle
In front of a computer.

Never Trust a Man Who…

Waxes his eyebrows. I know that seems completely random. But it’s not. Let me explain how I’ve come to this philosophy.

The Mexican (a.k.a. my hubby) once mentioned this guy in the neighborhood who he talked to almost every day. He had said that his guy was friendly and nice. And he certainly seemed that way through my husband’s descriptions and through the retelling of their conversations.

Said person gave my husband some advice too. This guy seemed nice and all. One day the Mexican told said person to watch out for someone. At this point I was a little wary. I’m of the opinion that you can’t always warn people about others. They may or may not take your advice. Or they could simply have a different relationship with that person. You just can’t ever really tell where someone’s sympathies lie. Regardless, things were fine and dandy.

Then the day finally came where I met said person. My first impression was ‘I can’t trust a guy who waxes his eyebrows’. A man who takes particular pains to make sure his eyebrows are perfectly waxed is not a person who is looking out for anybody but themselves and their appearance. The description that my husband had created was completely shattered the minute I met this guy. That doesn’t sit too well with me.

Of course later that night I told the Mexican to chill on the friendship a bit. I could really see this guy stabbing my hubby in the back just so that mr. eyebrows (f.k.a. said person) would get ahead. Mind you, no one should look like Bert with unyieldy eyebrow hair that creates bridge across one’s forehead. But either you tweeze them or trim them…severly waxing them seems odd and untrustworthy. So, that’s my lesson for the day.

Circus Act

I’m sure you were thinking with a title like this that I would go into a rant about work. But no! I’m actually going to talk about the circus. Talking about work is more ridiculous than the circus.

I love Cirque du Soleil. I’ve seen a number of their shows and find them mesmerizing! I’m astounded by the contortionists being able to move their bodies in various poses without the sound of snapping bones. It’s incredibly intriguing. I always find these acts to be the most painful and yet I can’t help but stare at them. It’s the morbid fascination of the human body.

There are those acts that seem to exist solely to make me nervous:
The High Wire People
The Balancing on a Stack of Chairs Guy, etc.
I watch them and bite my nails with the hope that they will not fall.

Then there are the jugglers. I am utterly awestruck by them at times. How they can train their hands to follow their eyes and never let anything fall? I can barely walk on my two feet without crashing into something and getting a bruise.

But the people I love the most are the acrobats. The people who fly through the air with sticks attached to their feet or from seesaws. The freedom they must sense that I can never feel. I used to be a gymnast and I only got so far. But the feeling of having the wind flow through your hands and having your body twist and turn in mid-air must be exhilarating. I guess part of the beauty of the circus is wishing you could do what they do. At least it seems that way for me.

And which act does my husband love the best? The clowns! Why? Because they make him laugh. His laughter at watching them is very contagious. I think he likes them best because he’s a clown as well. He enjoys making people laugh.

So while he invigorated by the laughter he produces in others, I think of the freedom of the flight of those acrobats.

Amazing

Staring at him
While he sleeps
I’ve looked at that
Same face
For years
Almost every day
And behind it
All
I have no clue
What goes on in
That head
In his mind.
There are times
When this unknown
Makes me want to kill
Him
And other times
When I don’t care
The creases
In his face
The wrinkles
Why are they there?
When he doesn’t
Seem to care about a thing
What put them there?


Does he realize the
Trouble
He creates for me
At times
The confusion
The insecurity
The frustration
I must do the same to him
So maybe I’ve
Created those
Creases
Wrinkles
In his face
As he’s created them in
Mine.

The Visitor

My mother-in-law (m-i-l) just spent 3 weeks visiting. I know, I know. Most of you are probably squirming at the thought; while others bristle at the idea of having any house guest for 3 weeks. Luckily it was a pleasant visit for the most part.

My m-i-l is a very thoughtful and wonderful house guest. She came for a vacation and did her best to go out and enjoy herself in the Big Apple. We had an occasional planned event with her, a dinner here and there but mostly she is very independent. I find that I can talk to her more directly than I can my own mother. She’s a very funny and smart woman and I totally respect her.

That said, 3 weeks is a long time and I’ve been thinking of all the conversations and happenings now. I find that I can’t even recall a lot of what we talked about and it’s important to do so. Why you might ask? It’s helpful to figure out some things about relationships – namely between me and my husband. But also, to help my husband understand his family and their relationships.

I suppose as usual that I spend a lot of time thinking about relationships in general. I think it’s important because you can always learn a lot about yourself by looking at how you handle/deal/relate to others.

What the best part of having my m-i-l come to visit? Getting a thank you card, sneakily left on our table as we left for the airport, thanking me for being me. It’s something my mom would never have the guts to tell me in spoken or written form. She’d rather just make me feel like a horrible person.

Dental Hygiene

Recently I went to the dentist to get some fillings fixed. I know, you are all very interested in this post because dentists make everyone happy! Skip onto something else if you need to but bear with me because I’m pretty sure my opinions are shared by many.

In this technological day and age, I find it incredibly hard to believe that dentistry still hasn’t advanced much. Drills are the same as they used to be. They are still these little metal tools that rip away at your enamel. Perhaps the way to numb the tooth is a little different now but the essential dental implement is the same. You’d think by now that they could drill through teeth with lasers or something? What about those weird picks to take away tartar? Scrape scraping away at the gums. Shouldn’t there be a simpler way to take care of that?

It seems so odd to me because my dentist (who I happen to really like a lot) has all these nifty gadgets to tell me about my teeth but the tools to take care of them are still very much the same as when I was a youngling. Why is that?

And most importantly, why does Novocain taste so horribly? After all these years of flavoring toothpaste and floss, why does Novocain still taste like a poisonous old sock? Can’t they find a way to make that more pleasant since the rest of the dental visit hasn’t changed much since the dawn of man??

Lost and Found

You probably can’t tell from my blog but I love dogs. I have two of my own and often contemplate adding to my canine joys. Almost every weekend I make time for my doggies by bringing them on a long walk and taking them to the local dog run. Sometimes both of them come along but most of the times, it’s just Foxy (the bigger and younger of my two dogs).

Usually when I go to the dog run I stand around and watch her play with her doggie play friends. But one particular day, I decided to sit on one of the benches on the side because I was very tired. We walked into the dog run and Foxy went to play and I made my way to relaxation. After a bit, Foxy started to look for me and she couldn’t find me standing around. She began to walk around the dog run looking for me but never completely noticing where I was. I assumed she was looking for a stray squirrel so I had no idea what she was up to. As she continued frantically to look at all the human faces and not seeing a familiar one, I realized she thought she lost me.

So I gave her the ‘come-to-momma’ cue and she placed the sound to the location. Upon seeing me, she charged towards me and jumped on top of me that I fell back on the bench. She proceeded to kiss my face and paw me all over. It was a bit insane but sweet. Every other owner noticed this and laughed and awed at the vision. From that moment on, Foxy didn’t let me out of her sight. When the other dogs came looking for her, she didn’t want anything to do with them. She only wanted her momma. She sat at my feet and didn’t budge. I petted her and kissed her knowing how much she loved me.

This was definitely one of those moments when I was truly impressed by the love that dogs have for their masters. I’ve seen moments when both my dogs have known that either my husband or I were sick and they sat by our side for companionship. Often my dogs will get a jealous streak if I pay attention to one more than the other. But I’d never seen such panic on a dog’s face such as what Foxy experienced that day when she lost and then found me again. It goes to show you that animals have complex emotions too.

Alphabet Soup

Recently I got an email at work that was signed by the sender and attached to his name were a bunch of letters. Now if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this guy had his pet cat walk on the keyboard when he wasn’t looking. Luckily I knew what these letter combinations meant since they are used on a regular basis in the daily business jargon with which I work.

But what if I didn’t know what they meant? What would I surmise by looking at AVP, MBA, PMP after someone’s name. Absolutely Valuable Person, Mighty Big Airhead, Please Meet Pat?? I mean, really? What does this combination of letters really mean to me, regardless of whether I am familiar with the acronyms or not? It means you are a pompous self-absorbed jerk.

Have a great day!

Balancing the Scales

Staring at the cold metal
Will this be bliss or
Another letdown?
Depression
Needing to eat massive amounts of food
To calm the sadness deep
Inside of my bones.

How can those numbers be true?
It just doesn’t seem likely
That those digits
Correspond to me.
That they equal me!
I don’t see that immense
Number
When I look
In the mirror.

What is going on here?
Is that why he looks
At others?
Why I feel so horrible
About myself
At times.
That I’m not
Good enough
Pretty enough
Sexy enough
To be on this planet.

Ah no,
It’s not the scale.
It’s the broken glasses
On the lens through
Which the world sees
Women.

Follow the Leader

I have a problem with authority. I’ve always suspected this about myself. However, it was confirmed during a recent crash course in Argentine Tango.

Due to an overabundance of women to men in the class, many of the women had to play both the part of the leader and the follower at different instances. Needless to say, when I lead, everything was ok. When I was the follower, many people told me that I had to wait for them to act first. Well, I thought to myself “then do something!!!” I wasn’t in the class to stand still.

Then there were others who told me not to do stuff and I got annoyed with that. See, I pay the teacher to correct me. I didn’t pay them to criticize me. You know??

I also don’t think that men (who get to be the leaders in this situation all the time) know what it’s like to be a follower. If you can’t figure out what I need to do, how I will respond to your cues etc, then maybe you shouldn’t be a leader!

I’m sure I have more to write about this topic but I’m just too annoyed right now.

Racial Tension

People can be incredibly stupid. I’m sure you will agree with that to some degree. I always find that just when I begin to have hope for the human race, someone does something that makes me wonder if abandoning all hope wouldn’t be a better course of action.

For instance, I walked into a hotel while in Paris to ask for the room key for my non French speaking cousin. The front desk clerk was an African man. I might have hesitated in asking for the key because it was hot and I had no saliva left in my mouth. However what came out of his mouth completely baffled me.

He asked me if I was American, which I denied because I wanted to see what he was going to say. He said that I acted like I’d never seen a black man from Africa before. I really wanted to grab him by the collar and punch him in the face because obviously this guy has never been to America. I told him that I was out of breath from the heat so he should just calm down.

I got the key, gave it to my cousin and said goodnight. I walked outside and began a tirade to my husband about how ridiculously dumb people can be. Why would he even say something like that considering that Americans have a Black president and have had race issues since its early history? I really think I should have punched that guy for his stupidity. But what would that have accomplished. I don’t think he would have gotten my point regardless of what I said or did.

Color Your World

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/06/science/06color.html?_r=1&emc=eta1

This article talks about the differences in tasks when they are associated with backgrounds of red or blue. They say that for certain tasks red works better than blue and vice versa. Does this kind of thing get applied to politics, I wonder? If you are in a blue state are you calmer than you are in a red state? Hmmm.

Authority Figure

Parenting always amazes me. What some people choose to teach their kids and how they decide to enforce rules just fascinates me. My parents, especially my mom, was of the ‘look of fear’ parenting school. If I ever did anything in public, my mom would give me a special look that would make me shiver with fear. I was always afraid of what would follow that look. Even if it wasn’t a spanking, it most certainly result in some kind of punishment that I could never really foresee. Whenever she gave me that look, I just stopped what I was doing that might have been annoying and became quiet. Usually, this was the only thing that my mother really wanted from me. And it worked! Sometimes, the look would result in a talk with my dad. Regardless, punishment wasn’t always a given so the unpredictability of it sort of kept me in line.

As I’ve grown up, I’ve seen different methods of punishment or admonishment. There is the ever famous ‘time out’. Not sure that really works. There is the grounding school of punishment which can be useful, I think. There is the humiliation train of thought. I’m not entirely certain that works because I think the child ends up having horrible self-esteem because of it. But the most baffling of techniques is the Antonio technique. (I’m most certain my husband will talk about this on his podcase so tune into that at www.mac.com/memouribe.)

This Antonio technique came about on a flight in Spain. For two and a half hours, the spawn of Satan himself sat behind my husband and me and screamed his lungs out - the highest pitched screech that I’ve ever heard – the kind that makes nails scratching a chalkboard, chewing aluminum foil and the likes seem like a calm ocean wave hitting the sand.

Normally I’d overlook this if it came from a baby but this child was at least 3 or more. And his name was Antonio. We both knew this because his father kept threatening him by saying:

Antonio, stop doing that or I won’t feed you lunch.
Antonio, be quiet or the captain will come here and scream at you.
Antonio, when we get home, you can’t use the pool.
So on and so forth.

None of these ‘threats’ shut this boy up. The reason why is that the father’s voice was annoying and not firm or strict. Obviously this father had no idea of the power of ‘that certain look’ that my mom and probably every Italian mother has mastered.

I’m pretty darn sure that if I have children and use the Antonio technique, I’m going to end up tied to a chair and gagged while my progeny runs wild.

Language Barriers #2

Medically Speaking

Despite what I’ve written before, there are some words that are very similar from one language to another. Most specifically this is the case with medical lingo. It might be pronounced and spelled slightly differently but it’s pretty much the same word.

For instance, during a recent conversation with a French friend, he wasn’t sure how to say a certain phenomenon that makes you visit the bathroom with great swiftness. So he described it in a different way. Although the creativity of it made me laugh, I told him that the true English word wasn’t very different from the French medical term. Now he knows. However, I’m sure he will continue to use the euphemism so that I will giggle like crazy.

It’s funny though how a euphemism will make you laugh whereas the true medical term will get more compassion.

Language Barriers #1

The Wonderful World of Disney

I love going to Europe especially France because I find I have very deep conversations with people there that I might not necessarily find so quickly here in the states. I definitely talk about more politics in Europe than I do in the States and it’s a very clear understanding that everyone has an opinion and that all entities involved can agree to disagree.

It’s really refreshing. However, there are times when things just can’t be translated or understood in the translation from one language to the next. For instance, after going to EuroDisney, my husband, my cousin and a good friend got into a deep discussion on the names of Disney characters and what they are in each language. The gist of the conversation was pointed around the names of Donald Duck’s nephews.

Basically, what came out of our discussion is that their names are as follows based on the country:

U.S.: Huey, Dewey and Louie (respectively)
Italian: Qui, Quo and Qua
French: Riri, Fifi and Loulou
Spanish (Mexico): Hugo, Paco and Louis.

What I found most interesting about this discussion is that the Mexican versions of the names just didn’t rhyme or ‘fit a pattern’ as they did in the other names.

This just shows one of the wonderful differences that arises when different languages try to express the same thing.

More to follow…..

Meeting Minutes

I spend far too many hours of every day, week, month and year in meetings. It drives me completely insane. I find it even more annoying that fingernails scratching across a chalkboard, chewing on aluminum foil and all those other irritating things.

Don’t get me wrong. Occasionally meetings can be incredibly productive – things get discussed, people walk away with things they need to confirm or do and everyone feels warm and productive (fuzzy and squishy are not adjectives that can be applied to this topic, no matter how much you can convince me!).

However, the majority of the meetings I’ve attended are absolutely painful! To the point that I’d rather get a spinal tap. I honestly think there has to be a better way to get work done than to have all these meetings.

On one occasion, my collegue and I were in a meeting with a number of attendees. But, only she and I were talking to each other and discussing the issue. So we decided to continue to conduct the meeting as if I were just a conversation between us. The reason these people were on this meeting was because they ‘had’ to…How obnoxious and ridiculous was that?

Many times meetings end up being just like this, except that it’s other people just talking to each other and not listening to each other. And nothing gets done. Occasionally, what drives me most insane about these meetings is how people multi-task through them and so you end up having to repeat yourself a number of times.

Let me tell you, there really isn’t a better feeling than repeating yourself a number of times to someone who doesn’t even have enough consideration to put you on mute and you have to listen to their nails clicking the keys of their keyboard. Here’s to hoping you have fewer meetings in your life than I do.

I hate Murphy

We are all aware of a wonderful law created by a guy named Murphy. Apparently, I must have really pissed Mr. Murphy off because his law follows me around like lint.

“Anything that can possibly go wrong, does”

Like today for instance, I really wanted to go to the gym this morning to do some reading on the stationery bike but also to get rid of some stress that had accumulated since yesterday. I was all decked out in my gym clothes. I got off the train and approached the gym door to find a note saying “Our apologies but due to a plumbing problem, the gym will not be open”. The little excitement I had to get to the gym was immediate quashed thanks to this polite note. So I had to walk around lower manhattan in my gym clothes to get to my office. I swiped into my office building and went straight to the bathroom to change into my work clothes.

So, I got to start the day in a really crappy mood and on top of that, got a number of annoying emails that just made my aggravation a million times worse.

There you have it. Just another horrible example of my man Murphy getting on my nerves.

Doubtin’ Donuts

Every so often I really crave a horribly sweet thing for breakfast. Usually by the end of a terribly hectic and horrific week, I want to hold up the closest Mrs. Fields Cookies or Godiva Chocolate and ask them to fill a bag with ‘unmarked’ goodies. I had just such a day this past Friday.

I usually go to Dunkin’ Donuts to get my coffee in the morning and as I was standing on the ludicrously long line, I decided I’d treat myself to a French Cruller. Why a French cruller? Well, I’d recently read that of all the donuts in the universe, they were the least amount of calories. And since I’ve been working out I thought I could treat myself and still not feel too guilty.

As I got closer to the cash register, I took a look at the caloric signs near all the donuts. (In NYC all fast food establishments need to show the calories of all their meals.) My contacts must have been deceiving me. There was no way that a French Cruller, which I’d seen in a health magazine as 170 calories, could be 250 calories. I refused to believe my eyes. I kept rubbing them. I asked someone in the line in front of me if they could confirm what the calories on the F.C. were. Oh what a horrible day!! They really were 250 calories, more than glazed donuts!! Even more than vanilla frosted.

What was this world coming to? Was everything that I’d been reading completely wrong? If donuts were the beginning where did this insane path of lies end? What else was total falsehood?

Needless to say, I didn’t get any donuts. Just my regular coffee at 5 calories. I informed my co-worker and she was just as shocked as I was because she too had heard that a F.C. was lower in calories. Guess it goes to show you, you can’t believe what you read when it comes to calories and the dearly delectable donut.

The Amazing Spiderman

As most of you know, I love New York. I was born and raised in the city that never sleeps. If I were ever to leave, I don’t think I could truly ever leave the Big Apple.

One of the reasons I love NY is that it keeps me on my toes. You always have to be hyper alert and aware of your surroundings. It’s definitely honed my observations skills. I see things in the smallest instant and it gets lasered into my brain almost instantaneously.

For instance last night I walked by a woman who looked like she was talking to a tree. My friends and I thought perhaps she just happened to be facing the tree and might have had a Bluetooth phone thingamajig but when we looked more closely, she was just talking to herself. Seeing this made me realize that even when I think NY is getting better, it’s really still a little crazy.

As if this observation hadn’t been enough to convince me of NY’s quintessential craziness, as we turned the corner we were met by a man sauntering down the street with a cat perched on his head. That pretty much cemented it for me. Ahhhhh how I love NY.

But nothing could beat my walk around Battery Park today. My co-worker and I decided to kick some energy back into our day by taking an invigorating walk around the tip of Manhattan. Who should I spy on my walk? None other than the Amazing Spiderman! And he was nice enough to wave at some tourists, too!

With daily occurrences like this, can you see why I am so enamored of this city?

ADDENDUM
Not sure how I forgot this but before we even were graced with Peter Parker's presence, we noticed a wild turkey lurking in a field of tulips. A wild turkey in the midst of Manhattan, now don't tell me that isn't cool?

Mixed Messages

Along with my growing list of pet peeves is the ever popular of late –mixed messages. I deal with it a lot on a daily basis at work but I’ve seen it everywhere. For instance, this morning, I was at the gym and I was watching a morning talk show program. One of the anchors of this show was grilling a model who recently encountered a lot of controversy as being too skinny. (Now, the irony of this whole situation isn’t lost on me but neither here, nor there.) The anchor woman showed her a normal portion of food and asked her to point out how much of this normal portion the model ate. The woman pointed to half of the portion. I’m not surprised in the least.

But here’s what annoys the crud out of me. So, the media (same morning show for instance) is always saying how we should lose weight and not be obese because it’s bad for our health. And now, they are saying this woman is too skinny. How is a poor impressionable young person supposed to know which of these categories is correct if the messages are different from day-to-day? I know parents should be telling their children this kind of stuff. But I just have this feeling that kids don’t listen to their parents too much. They believe their friends and tv/movies more. What kinds of messages are friends/tvs/movies sending to children…don’t be fat, be skinny. People like skinny people because they are more likely to get hired. People find skinny people more attractive, etc.

Is it just me? Am I the only one that sees that this is a problem? There is a lot of stuff that could get my goat but this is the one I decided to focus on for today.

Positively Outlook

Does the title of this blog sound weird to you? It should! I’m sure some people might think it has to do with the Microsoft application and how much I love it. But it has nothing to do with that. It has to do with adjectives and adverbs.

Adjectives are modifiers - meaning they describe nouns. They tell us the colors, shapes, textures, etc. of nouns. And adverbs modify verbs – telling us how an action is completed. It drives me a little nutty when people use these very helpful tools incorrectly.

For instance, many years ago a big computer company had a slogan that said “Think Different” and it just made my butt boil!! What is wrong with this, you might add. To think is a verb. I know it seems weird because you aren’t doing any action, which is what verbs usually do. But it is! So if you need to describe a verb, what do you use? An adverb. That’s right! Very good! Different, my friends, is not an adverb. It’s an adjective so this phrase is grammatically incorrect. I really wanted to run around the country with a can of Krylon spray paint adding ‘ly’ to different to correct this travesty! Thank goodness they got rid of that campaign soon after. Otherwise, I would have gone insane or gotten a number of frequent flyer miles.

I was prompted to write this because the other day someone told me to think positive about a certain frustrating and unchanging situation (ahem work) and not only did I want to tell them to shove their malarkey down someone else’s throat. But I also felt the steam coming out of my ears from the horrible usage of an adjective to describe a verb. What the person should have said was ‘Think Positively”. Mind you, this person probably will never get this right in a million years but whatever. I need to get this off my chest. I wish people would just pay more attention to these things. It really makes them sound so crass and uneducated. I do suppose though that if there weren’t people out there making these mistakes, then I’d have no topics for my blog.

The Albatross

As many of my good friends know, I have spent a long time in graduate school. I pretty much started right out of college. I knew I wanted to continue my studying so I applied immediately after graduation while working at a full time job. I was accepted and then the problems started. I had to work; there was no way around it. But graduate school is a full time job in itself.

I somehow managed to get all my school work done even though I worked and I still have no idea how I did it. But then in 2001, I ended up in corporate America (long story for another blog). Then various events around September happened and my priorities changed. I worked insane hours because that was what was needed. Slowly but surely, only 1 course and a thesis away from graduating, I stopped going to graduate school.

For the longest time, the incompleteness gnawed on my soul. I was so worried about going back – what was I going to do with that Master’s degree in nothing practical? Certainly didn’t get me the jobs I had. I decided to pursue a certification in English Language Teaching along the way and I taught and I loved it. But once again, due to monetary constraints, I had to return to the financial world.

Finally last year, I decided to just finish my masters. I was more aware that my job was not fulfilling to me but that it provided me with the time and money to do the things I wanted to do. So I had to reapply to the original program that I started. And I had to retake my GREs and write another essay and see how many more classes I needed to take in order to finish. Luckily, I only had to take 2 classes and finish my thesis and I’d be done. It seemed easy enough.

But then the economy tanked and lay-offs happened and I got stuck working insane amounts of hours. Somehow, (yet again), not sure how, I got it all done. And officially on Wednesday at 9:47 am, my husband delivered my thesis to my department. I have removed the albatross from my neck!!

Or so I thought. In going over my thesis with my advisor, he suggested, actually he stated, that the concept of my thesis and the research were amazing but that the writing was not on the same level. I always knew my writing took a beating being in the business world but it never really sank in as much as his comments did. I feel like now I have a new albatross on my neck and how I plan to tackle that is yet to be decided. Stay tuned...

Shuffleboard

As I’ve grown older many things have really grown to annoy me. I didn’t think I would become a curmudgeon like this but it’s happening. And as hard as I try to break this horrible pattern, it just keeps happening.

I used to have maybe two pet peeves for the longest time. One of my current annoyances is people who can’t seem to lift their feet when they walk. It irritates me like nothing else lately. I’d rather that you scratch your nails down a chalk board or even eat aluminum foil (mind you I’m cringing thinking about those two beautiful disturbances) than shuffle your feet. PICK THEM UP! What the heck is wrong with you that you can’t just lift them off the ground? Perhaps you have an anemic condition, check it out. Go to the doctor, eat some more spinach. But for the love of pretty flowers, just get it fixed! It is insanely irritating! It suggests to me that you have no energy and obviously no consideration for others to make this totally controllable noise stop!

I can understand that years ago, foot binding was common so some things I can understand. But now-a-days medicine is fantastic and podiatrists have all kinds of tricks up their sleeve. For the love of humanity, please do something about this!

I’ve also found that a certain type of shoe makes this more common than necessary. So to those of you that wear certain shoes I call ugglies….stop wearing them. You are driving a whole lot of people up a walk. It’s not just me. I can almost guarantee it.

Daily Routine

Every weekday a great many of us get up and head to our place of work like programmed DVRs recording our daily trials and tribulations. There is no thought around this; it’s done. It is to some degree called ‘flow’ – we don’t think, we do.

There is something nice about this routine. The same person, who hands you your cup of coffee, says hello and asks you a question about your life. Or a common person that you see on your commute who nods at you to let you know that you are in it together. These little moments can mean a lot to some people. You count on them because there is so little out there to control or count on any more. The global markets are a mess and the job stress just gets worse. It’s these friendly faces that give you some hope/strength and reassurance that this too shall pass.

It’s not just these individuals that make you feel better. Occasionally you get the same support from a co-worker. You get a feeling of camaraderie with one or two people that you see every weekday. Most of you know how this is. You have an unspoken communication with them – they understand how you feel and vice versa. You talk to them about anything and everything and you get into a groove with them. You become each other’s cheerleader in some ways. You push each other to be better and to give the best possible example of their work in every situation. It’s really a lovely feeling when you achieve this with someone.

And as this grows, you come to see this person as the sunshine of your work day. They become the sounding board to your complaints, the confidant to whom you describe your doubts, your coach while you train to do something, a mentor while you learn something and you become that for them. In many ways, this person’s smile, voice or personality makes it worth going to work even if everything else absolutely goes wrong.

All this is wonderful and fantastic. Sadly like all good things, these relationships sometimes come to an end. Since change is a constant, you know it’s going to happen. However, when this moment does come, you go through a feeling of lose and grief almost as profound as if the person has passed away. The only comfort is the knowledge that you have had this connection with someone and to treasure the memories and discussions that you have had with them. In an ideal world, this connection never fades. So as long as the daily routine doesn’t drastically change, an ideal world is still a possibility.

Forgetfulness

Many years ago I was diagnosed with a disorder that I keep under control to some degree through medication. It’s very difficult because without the medication, I’m all over the place and I tend to forget things because I’m not fully engaged in that one thing, but on many things at once. It is mind-numbing for me but I imagine it’s hard for those around me to understand this problem.

Regardless, there are certain things that I cannot forget. The things people say to me…the things certain people say to me. And this has had me in a quandary for some time. A few months ago, a family member said some things to me that I just keep replaying in my head. However, I recently found out that they don’t remember having said these things to me. Actually, if it weren’t for one other person to be a witness, it almost could have happened in a vacuum. It would have been my word against theirs. The problem with this situation is that you could say I was the one who is forgetful but I’m not entirely so.

My problem is a chemical one and the said person’s problem is chemical as well. It’s called alcohol. I’ve had to deal with this all my life. People forgetting promises, stories, dates because they were under the influence. To some degree, I am the way I am because I had to live with this. It really makes me mad.

Many times I’ll get into a fight with one of the various people I know who have a substance problem and they blame my ‘lie’ on my disorder. But the truth is they conveniently forget a lot of stuff because they drink. And it’s easier to use my disorder as an excuse than for them to seek help for their issue.

The best part of all this forgetfulness is that I’ve repeatedly told these people how much I hate that they drink .Yet, when I get angry about seeing them that way, they conveniently forget how many times I’ve told them that their being drunk pisses me off. How there is no point talking to them in any positive way because they will just forget it the next day. I wish I could just forget how much this behavior annoys me but this is one area where I have the brain of an elephant.

The Eye of the Beholder

Being a woman is a supreme pain in the posterior for so many reasons. The list is so long that I’m not going to entertain it here. I’ll just talk about one aspect – hair.

I have the fabulous genetic blessing of being prematurely grey thanks to my parents. So from early in my teens, I’ve been struggling with covering my grey hairs. And as I grow older, the grey overtakes the chestnut more and more. My husband says I have a lot of stories to tell and that’s why I have all these grey hairs. It’s really sweet of him but no one else in this damn world sees it that way, I can assure you.

Now, I’m also blessed with hair that’s thick and grows inordinately fast. This is actually something I’m really happy about. Aside from my grey hairs, I’ve never complained about my hair. I have tons of it and I love the texture of it. The only problem is that with the kind of hair that I have and the speed with which it grows, means I have to visit the salon at least every 4 weeks to get the roots colored to hide the grey.

Ok, yes, so what’s the big deal? Well, one time I went to a different hairdresser than the one I’m used to visiting. And she kept telling me how lucky I was to have the hair I did because she had thin hair and had some bald spots and she had to get extensions to cover those patches. Now, normally I would feel bad but I kind of got annoyed because….as she’s complaining about her hair, I’m frustrated with my greys poking out from every angle. I just couldn’t see why I was blessed. I often have people stare at patches of my grey hair for moments that I have to wave my hand in front of their face!! What’s also annoying is that my face and my hair tell conflicting stories about my age, which is also annoying. I’m sure people look at her patches of baldness but I don’t think those go as noticed and grey. There is no way for me to comb or do my hair to hide them once the roots show! In the line of work that I’m in, grey hairs signify inability to handle stress and that’s not acceptable. But if a man has grey hair, he’s distinguished. How about you shove that in the garbage? That’s totally not fair! So if a guy has grey hair, he’s sexy…but if I have grey hair, I’m a basket case that can’t handle stress. Something is so rotten in that logic is smells like a backed-up sewer. Why am I not distinguished when I do twice or three times the stuff any man can do and I do it better and get paid less for it? I’ve never heard a bigger crock of poop in my life.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that no matter what…all women hate what they have. But I hate it more for how society makes me feel about my issue than I normally would with anything else. Stupid society!