Saturday, May 29, 2010

Friday Confessional (Moved To Saturday)

Since I was too busy yesterday dealing with a messy life, I had to wait until today to do this cherished sacrament.

I want to send a shout out to my girl Glamazon and tell her that I'm sorry I'm late, but being a day late and a dollar short is how I roll!

Today, I'm not just concentrating on my own sins, but on the sins of others as well. (Yeah, I'm being judgmental and that's a big old sin right there, isn't it?) Okay, I never said I was sinless. I may have said on occasion that I was blameless, but that's not really the same thing is it?

* Why are people so up in arms that Miley Cyrus got grown up and sexy? She's 17. That's old enough to have a couple of kids as far as I'm concerned. Every other young lady in the industry is making mega-bucks because they have boobs and show them. Why shouldn't she? Oh, because she's a role model. Excuse me, role models are people like Mother Teresa and Queen Elizabeth or Madonna for goodness sake. If we are showing our kids role models from the entertainment industry, we are badly misleading them.

* Why does Hollywood show scenes of people having sex on the kitchen sink? Or on the kitchen table, for that matter? Now I'm just saying, of all the places in a house to have sex, the kitchen is not up there on my list of top 10 favorites. One scene comes to mind with Michael Douglas and Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction". Right on top of the damned dirty dishes. Excuse me? I'm all for sex in the basement, sex in the garage, sex in the bathroom, sex in the parlor or office, even sex on the front porch, (with the lights out of course), but excuse me, sex in the kitchen is just nasty.

* There was something icky on my facecloth this morning. I don't have a clue what it was. I only know it did not come from me. Unh uh! No way. Now, since only two of us live here, along with our plethora of dogs and cat and fish, who do I get to blame. Nobody, that's who. Alex will look at me with a stupid expression on his face and say, "what did it look like honey?" He must have done it, but he lies. Not all the time, and not well, but he does lie. I cannot shoot him because it would involve time off work for him and God knows we can't afford that. So I'm seething with rage which is probably a sin.

*My neighbor put artificial turf in her back yard. She also put in all these fountains and had the whole area landscaped with plants, flowers, trees, etc. Woman spent a fortune. Makes me mad that someone who has a fortune would put in artificial turf. Again, I am seething with rage, but when she came to ask me to come and see it, I smiled and said "Oh I love it! Gorgeous, truly!" and lied through my little pointy teeth!

* We have a little orange kitty in our neighborhood who Alex has fed a couple of times. He (or she) is just skin and bone. The cat is probably about 5 months old and very friendly. Someone abandoned this cat and I would put that person in prison if it was up to me. The kitty appeared on my front porch yesterday and I fed it and gave it water. I also petted the poor baby. If you can't keep your cat or your dog, take them to the Shelter. Do not leave them to "fend for themselves". Again, this is rage inspiring.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

The Green Eyed Monster And Me

It was 1962 and I was almost 16 the first time I realized there was an "us" and a "them".

I was in high school and there was a group of girls who were the "most popular" girls in the school. Many of these girls were cheerleaders, "most likely to succeed" and homecoming queens! (If the truth be told, I was probably voted "Most Likely To Become a Hooker" but that's another story.)

I had friends, I had boyfriends, but I remember feeling very set apart from this group of girls. "Most Popular" didn't exactly mean they had more friends, but it certainly meant they had more money.

I remember hearing the girls talk about the kind of car they were getting for their birthday. And I clearly remember them bragging about using "Mummy's credit card for a shopping spree". Both of these concepts were beyond glamorous to me!

Our family was not "poor" as the label goes. Mom worked hard to support me and my three younger sisters, and my dad kicked in child support. We always had a roof over our heads, food on the table, and we were probably better dressed than a lot of kids in school. (Mom worked for Koret of California, a sportswear manufacturer, and got all of us fantastic clothing for very little money.)

Still, cars for my 16th birthday and "credit card shopping sprees" were pretty unlikely scenarios in my world. For the first time in my life, I felt jealousy and understood there were "haves" and "have nots".

Until then, I think I had been pretty insulated and I figured everybody was just like us. None of my friends were given cars, and nobody's parents handed them credit cards (if they even had credit cards in those days.)

I got through high school without the car or the credit card that I wished I had. I do remember feeling a little deprived since I was not in the group of girls who drove their own cars, and spent money on shopping sprees! (I know, poor me, huh?)

Years passed and the realities of life came down on me as a single mother with 2 babies and no particular work skills. I worked in menial positions to support my kids. I really didn't have time to feel jealousy or much of anything else for that matter!

About 20 years ago, I invited a woman friend to come over and told her I wanted to check out a sale at a very exclusive shop that was closing in my area. My friend said that sounded like fun and so we went to the sale. I think I got a pair of lined wool trousers. My friend went into a frenzy and spent about $4,000 on clothing. I watched as she tried on item after item, some things that didn't even fit her correctly ("oh, I can get this altered" she said) and piled them on the counter. A very slight twinge of the old green eyed monster paid me a visit.

I had to laugh at myself. I was feeling a spot of envy for a woman who was spending money like it was water on things that she would most likely regret buying. I was in a financial position that I could be foolish too if I chose to.

The fact is, I no longer feel like I'm missing out by not shopping frivolously. I've come to value experiences much more than material objects. I have no hesitation spending money on a trip to Italy, but I balk at buying a lot of "stuff" that catches my eye.

Don't get me wrong, the Prada pumps, and the Gucci bag are still calling my name. But the days of 'shopping sprees' are over for me now, unless I'm taking one of my grandchildren. And that is an experience!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Truth Will Set You Free


I usually try to tell the truth.

This is so NOT my bathtub. I wish it was though.

I find telling the truth is the simplest way to keep things straight. There are exceptions however. When someone asks me if I like their new dress, suit or shirt, I will almost always say yes. I may not really like it, but I'd rather lie than hurt someone's feelings. If I go shopping with someone, I will give a more honest answer about what I like on them. The deal is, sometimes we do lie for a good reason.

In the past, I might have told a lie or two to benefit my personal safety. ("He's my cousin, you fool!", might not have been exactly honest, but it was a better explanation than, "This is the guy I've been seeing behind your back, Darling.")

What always amazes me is people who will construct complex and convoluted stories for no real apparent reason. I have always shaken my head in wonder when I hear how far they go for some obscure rationale that totally escapes me. I know a couple of people who have told me totally outrageous lies and I have very seldom pointed out that I knew that what they were saying wasn't true. If it's important for them to believe that I believed them, it's kinder to let that assumption lie. Still, why one would do it is a mystery to me.

In my book, there are two good reasons for lying; one reason is kindness, and the other reason is self preservation. Period.

That said, I have been gifted by a couple of people with a lovely award called "Creative Writer, Blogger Award". I am honored that Nicole at "How Much Longer Till Friday" and my dear OOdozo at "When I Reach" both gave me this interesting and novel award. Both of these women are in my top 10 of favorite bloggers in the world so if you don't know them, please go check them out.

Now most of you know I have trouble following directions. The award asks that you list six things about yourself that are true and one thing that is a lie. In the alternative, you can post six lies about yourself, and one thing that is true.

So far, I'm with the program, so let's see how this goes.

1. I wanted to be a Catholic nun when I was between the ages of 7 and 11.

2. When I was 16, I had a Chinese boyfriend.

3. When I was 19, I was at my mother's house and my sister's date showed up to pick up my younger sister to take to his junior prom. My sister had gone out with someone else for the evening and stood him up. He was 16. I hurried up and got dressed and told him that I would go to the prom with him. I gave him the full prom experience and he later said it was the best night of his life. (Yes, his friends were envious.)

4. The first time I bathed my son in a little tub, he flipped over and landed face down in the water. I was too stunned to move for a moment. Thinking I had killed him, and my husband would be furious, I turned him back over to see. He was alive but somewhat pissed off.

5. I had two professional athletes and two fairly well known singers as boyfriends when I was young.

6. I got breast implants when I was 34.

7. I left my children and my neighbors children with my husband while she and I went out to dinner and a movie. I didn't mention to my husband that we were flying to Los Angeles from San Francisco for dinner.

I will tell you that I am also supposed to pass this award on. I'm only going to suggest to a couple of people that they might like to do this, but it's totally up to them. In some cases, I realize that people do not enjoy awards. Personally, I love them. If you want to play, please do, and if not, it won't hurt my feelings in the slightest!

I'm sending a shout out to Nicky, Mike, and Jepeto at "We Work For Cheese". Another to the beautiful Melissa at "Glamazon Mormon Mom", as well as to Peedee at "Queen of the Dogs", and last, but certainly not least, to Ziva at "Ziva's Inferno". If you guys would like to participate, please do so!

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

I Am So NOT A Southern Belle


Alex is leaving next week for Georgia again. This got me to thinking about the huge differences between me and women from the South.

Southern belles have big hair. I have very small hair. Most of the women in my family have big hair.

My mom and her sister had downright "huge" hair. They both were very blond (aren't all Southern Belles blond?), and the hair was large and hairsprayed to absolute shiny gold perfection. The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders had nothing on my mom and my aunt. Mom's family is from Oklahoma, and I think Oklahoma is second only to Texas for big hair.

Southern Belles fry fish. I have never fried a fish in my life. I can't even imagine frying a fish. I have baked, broiled, barbecued and sauteed fish, but never fried it or even eaten it fried. For that matter, I've never fried a chicken either. In fact, I don't fry. That has to be a Southern thing too.

Southern Belles think "Gone With The Wind" was a great movie. I think it was overly-long, cliched, and boring.

Southern Belles are gentle, caring and sweet, and usually quite beautiful. I am inconsiderate, loud, and demanding and frequently a total physical mess.

Southern Belles' are quietly conservative. I am a registered Republican, fiscally conservative, but otherwise socially liberal in almost all instances. I am not quiet over any of my views either.

Sometimes, I wonder if Alex would rather stay with the Georgia Peaches! Sometimes I'd rather go to Georgia and be with the Peaches!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Home Sweet Home

I used to dream of travel. Heck, I used to love travel! I've been to Europe, Mexico, Canada, many of the states in the US including several trips to Hawaii.

At this point, I really dislike going anyplace for more than a day trip. (Let me come home and sleep in my own bed.)

I hate restaurant food served on plates with pieces of parsley for decoration, along with that dumb slice of melon. I don't want anybody walking up to me and saying "How are you folks doing today/tonight?" Or, even worse "I'm Jody and I'll be your server."

If I'm going for decoration, I make something attractive to eat. I'll put jasmine rice in a cool shaped pyrex cup that has been lightly oiled and turn it out like a jello mold and top it with black sesame seeds, but I will not lay a sprig of parsley on a plate to make it "fancy". Parsley is not fancy. I'll stand ribbed chops against the rice and wrap bacon around the bone if I'm going for fancy! I'll stick an edible orchid on the sauteed spinach if I'm going for fancy!

I don't like air travel. I suppose if I was flying first class or on a lear jet, I might like it a little better, but not by much. I find myself eyeballing other passengers on planes wondering which one has the bomb and where they've got it. Also, if it's a long trip, you start actually thinking about eating something that might be brought to you, not because you are hungry, but because of boredom. This, I might add, is always a mistake of sometimes tragic proportions. Even if you are flying first class, the food is a nightmare.

If there is anything I think I would hate more than a long boat trip, I can't imagine what it would be. If I want to look at water, I'll go to the beach. A lot of my friends swear by cruises. I'd rather be shot dead.

Long car trips make me tired. No matter how big the car is, there isn't enough room for comfort if it's over a two hour ride. And sure as shooting, if it takes you two hours to get there, it's going to take you two hours getting back.

Now a 20 minute trip with the top down on a sunny day is different. No packing, no eating in restaurants that have signs like "Mom's Home Cooking", or "Fine Eats", no scratchy hotel/motel sheets, no wondering who else has slept on that pillow, no pay per view soft core porn!

The one travel experience that I always thought I might like was the "Orient Express", and it isn't running any more. Pity!