This has been a huge argument amongst my friends for the past season of football.
I am an advocate, a fan, the only spokesperson left... of the 2-pt conversion, to say the least. Most of my friends believe "the extra point" is always the way to go, as the 2-pt conversion will almost never be successful.
My argument:
1. What is the point of playing the game if you are going to be safe ?
2. If teams consistently practiced scoring with a 2-pt conversion like they practice kicking the extra point perhaps it would be more successful more consistently.
3. Go big or Go home.
My friends argument:
The chances of scoring on a 2-pt conversion is slim to none - the extra point is a given.
This is all.
Mind you, all my friends believe this which questions the guts vs glory feeling deep in my stomach which I hold for some of my friends. How can you patsy out and just take the point b/c it's a given?
Who doesn't go for the gold?
Were we raised to just take a giveaway and not fight for something bigger?
What happened to the passion of the game?
Last night - Idaho vs. BGSU - Roady's Humanitarian Bowl
http://www.bgsufalcons.com/news/2009/12/30/FB_1230091322.aspx?path=football
All I have to say is kudos to a coach who will go down in history not only for winning a great bowl game with a 2-pt conversion but for teaching his team players that "Life does not give you any free points...if you want to win...YOU TAKE THEM."
Bravo Idaho Head Coach Robb Akey - That's how you play the game!!
http://www.2news.tv/news/local/80419527.html
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Urban Living
The best and the worst of any city. Downtown has always been developed into a place where the best money can be made by the industrous and driven and the young party like it's 1999. Yet the cons weigh just as heavily as the pros. It takes a certain mentality to raise kids downtown. You have little to no yard. Rules need to be set about everything, "you can't walk here, you can't talk to them, don't open the door to strangers, etc etc".
It's definetely a lifestyle choice.
For those who choose to live downtown, there are any number of reasons. When I was in Boston, I wanted to be in the epicenter of all the action. I loved going to university in the middle of it all.
In Denver, it has never occurred to me to live downtown because Denver's offerings culturally are so much different than most other cities.
It's a small slice of the American Culture Pie - Plus, you can live in a perfectly good suburb simply 10 minutes in any direction. Why move 10 minutes in town where it is 75% more likely for your car to get broken into? Why bother?
the view from my front porch...
This morning, I was awakened to sirens blaring outside my window. Here is the irony. I lived on a busy corner in the suburb where sirens blew by my home every night, and because I lived on the corner, the traffic sounds cut through my sleep on a daily basis from 5:30a-9a, every day. Again in the evening between 4p and 7p...every single day. But it didn't matter, my kids could walk to the park or the playground. I could rollerblade in my neighborhood. I could run to and from , my local park and jog in peace, without a worry for my safety in the least.
I realized this past week, I can jog to Coors Field and all around downtown. I can run to my friend's downtown loft. I can walk home from any bar/ restaurant I generally had to to drive to in order to frequent. I can walk...but, with more apprehension about my surroundings. The sirens in my old neighborhood never gave me notice because I assumed they were going someplace else. Leaving my neighborhood and headed someplace...not so safe.
This morning at 6a, I looked out the window...wondering if something was going down on my block. Was a home on fire? Had someone gotten stabbed? What was the emergency? Funny. The 1st time in weeks I hear a siren, and I conjur up all sorts of stories about what's going down in my hood. Where in my "safe" neighborhood, the sound of a siren every day gave me no notice at all.
What is wrong with this picture?
Today I am going for a jog downtown to explore my neighborhood and challenge myself to drop some of my concepts about what my new environment means to me.
Also, one of my goals for the new year.
It's definetely a lifestyle choice.
For those who choose to live downtown, there are any number of reasons. When I was in Boston, I wanted to be in the epicenter of all the action. I loved going to university in the middle of it all.
In Denver, it has never occurred to me to live downtown because Denver's offerings culturally are so much different than most other cities.
It's a small slice of the American Culture Pie - Plus, you can live in a perfectly good suburb simply 10 minutes in any direction. Why move 10 minutes in town where it is 75% more likely for your car to get broken into? Why bother?
the view from my front porch...
This morning, I was awakened to sirens blaring outside my window. Here is the irony. I lived on a busy corner in the suburb where sirens blew by my home every night, and because I lived on the corner, the traffic sounds cut through my sleep on a daily basis from 5:30a-9a, every day. Again in the evening between 4p and 7p...every single day. But it didn't matter, my kids could walk to the park or the playground. I could rollerblade in my neighborhood. I could run to and from , my local park and jog in peace, without a worry for my safety in the least.
I realized this past week, I can jog to Coors Field and all around downtown. I can run to my friend's downtown loft. I can walk home from any bar/ restaurant I generally had to to drive to in order to frequent. I can walk...but, with more apprehension about my surroundings. The sirens in my old neighborhood never gave me notice because I assumed they were going someplace else. Leaving my neighborhood and headed someplace...not so safe.
This morning at 6a, I looked out the window...wondering if something was going down on my block. Was a home on fire? Had someone gotten stabbed? What was the emergency? Funny. The 1st time in weeks I hear a siren, and I conjur up all sorts of stories about what's going down in my hood. Where in my "safe" neighborhood, the sound of a siren every day gave me no notice at all.
What is wrong with this picture?
Today I am going for a jog downtown to explore my neighborhood and challenge myself to drop some of my concepts about what my new environment means to me.
Also, one of my goals for the new year.
Monday, December 28, 2009
100 posts... WOW!
Congratulations to myself for reaching a goal...albeit a goal I didn't know I had. I hit 100 posts this weekend.
Note to self: I miss Paris. Not just living abroad. Not living in a big city. I miss cheese, pain and wine everyday and walking past La Tour d'Eiffel every day.
Note to self: I miss Paris. Not just living abroad. Not living in a big city. I miss cheese, pain and wine everyday and walking past La Tour d'Eiffel every day.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Gossip and the downfall of woman
Whoever gossips to you will gossip about you. ~Spanish Proverb
This is something my mother told me a long time ago, "If people are telling you things they have no business sharing, they will do the same thing to you." Which taught me at a young age not to share secrets. Then I became a teenager and within the group of my small handful of friends, we shared everything.
I had to learn the hard way.
I started overhearing things at school that only my small handful of friends knew, and I realized that it didn't matter if people called themselves your best friend or not, they would sell you out for a better opportunity (or simply in a moment of weakness).
I pretty much became a vault in high school - I didn't talk to anyone about personal stuff because I couldn't take the chance of having people know too much about me. When I got to college, I translated that concept into the, "fun girl", just laugh and party and make everyone smile and they won't realize that you aren't sharing personal information. It worked.
It is very easy to imply things without actually sharing anything.
As an adult, I have been told over and over, good girlfriends are hard to maintain. Life gets away from you. People get married and have kids and between family and career, women just don't have the time commitment to friendship that they once had. I got married and had kids and realized that my single friends and I no longer spent as much time together. I attributed this to the fact that I wasn't out drinking and picking up guys 5 days a week anymore. They attributed it to me being serious and boring.
The price of motherhood.
There is an episode of S&TC where the core group of single women go into the suburbs to visit an old friend who used to be the life of the party, and this woman desperately wanted her single life back. As the episode unfolds, this woman gets drunk and naked at a party, where the core group of friends realize how they have all matured and changed on some level, even if they are still single.
And some women never change even when they get married and have babies.
The funny thing about gossip is, no matter whether or not the information is true or not, the intent in spreading it is hateful. The kind of hate that ruins friendships, tears apart realtionships, and spoils good people like old milk. The distrust that forms between people curdles underneath the surface waiting for a new opportunity to stink and taste bad.
There is a great film with Joan Allen called The Contender. In this political thriller, indiscreet sexual photos are released with the Vice President candidate and a group of men, labeling her and her moral values - and she refuses to address the photos. Throughout the film, her advisor cant understand why she will not defend herself, and she explains... "I just can't respond to the accusations, because it's not ok that they are made."
http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi3096838425/
Defending yourself against gossip is the same as adhering to it...and it will never go away. I believe that as humans (and women especially), we tend to want to defend ourselves automatically because we have an innate sense of survival. This movie was a very powerful reminder to me that intellect is a powerful tool - that our emotions don't have to make every chess move for us. The people you care about will stand by you, even in the light of gossip, hate, and classlessness. Belief systems are more powerful than you think - it's like having faith in God. Faith in your own strength will keep you strong.
This is something my mother told me a long time ago, "If people are telling you things they have no business sharing, they will do the same thing to you." Which taught me at a young age not to share secrets. Then I became a teenager and within the group of my small handful of friends, we shared everything.
I had to learn the hard way.
I started overhearing things at school that only my small handful of friends knew, and I realized that it didn't matter if people called themselves your best friend or not, they would sell you out for a better opportunity (or simply in a moment of weakness).
I pretty much became a vault in high school - I didn't talk to anyone about personal stuff because I couldn't take the chance of having people know too much about me. When I got to college, I translated that concept into the, "fun girl", just laugh and party and make everyone smile and they won't realize that you aren't sharing personal information. It worked.
It is very easy to imply things without actually sharing anything.
As an adult, I have been told over and over, good girlfriends are hard to maintain. Life gets away from you. People get married and have kids and between family and career, women just don't have the time commitment to friendship that they once had. I got married and had kids and realized that my single friends and I no longer spent as much time together. I attributed this to the fact that I wasn't out drinking and picking up guys 5 days a week anymore. They attributed it to me being serious and boring.
The price of motherhood.
There is an episode of S&TC where the core group of single women go into the suburbs to visit an old friend who used to be the life of the party, and this woman desperately wanted her single life back. As the episode unfolds, this woman gets drunk and naked at a party, where the core group of friends realize how they have all matured and changed on some level, even if they are still single.
And some women never change even when they get married and have babies.
The funny thing about gossip is, no matter whether or not the information is true or not, the intent in spreading it is hateful. The kind of hate that ruins friendships, tears apart realtionships, and spoils good people like old milk. The distrust that forms between people curdles underneath the surface waiting for a new opportunity to stink and taste bad.
There is a great film with Joan Allen called The Contender. In this political thriller, indiscreet sexual photos are released with the Vice President candidate and a group of men, labeling her and her moral values - and she refuses to address the photos. Throughout the film, her advisor cant understand why she will not defend herself, and she explains... "I just can't respond to the accusations, because it's not ok that they are made."
http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi3096838425/
Defending yourself against gossip is the same as adhering to it...and it will never go away. I believe that as humans (and women especially), we tend to want to defend ourselves automatically because we have an innate sense of survival. This movie was a very powerful reminder to me that intellect is a powerful tool - that our emotions don't have to make every chess move for us. The people you care about will stand by you, even in the light of gossip, hate, and classlessness. Belief systems are more powerful than you think - it's like having faith in God. Faith in your own strength will keep you strong.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Holidays
This is the time of year when families and friends reconnect. When people celebrate the season with good food and cheer. The time of year when all the year's bad things are forgotten and hugs are exchanged instead.
Well, in theory at least.
This is also the time of year when you are forced to hang out with your inlaws and relatives that you can't stand; that smelly aunt, and your drunken uncle. You are forced to sit at the table with your loudmouth cousins and your slutty niece. Some people drive for hours and hours to spend 24-48 hours with those they would rather not spend 15 minutes with during the course of the year.
So, raise your glasses and enjoy this holiday season.
Cheers friends!
Well, in theory at least.
This is also the time of year when you are forced to hang out with your inlaws and relatives that you can't stand; that smelly aunt, and your drunken uncle. You are forced to sit at the table with your loudmouth cousins and your slutty niece. Some people drive for hours and hours to spend 24-48 hours with those they would rather not spend 15 minutes with during the course of the year.
So, raise your glasses and enjoy this holiday season.
Cheers friends!
Friday, December 4, 2009
The Arrogance of Man
Oh, this is going to be a difficult one. I said I was not going to blog on the Tiger "transgression", as he so politically correctly called it. I did not want to be one more person feeding into the PRIVATE lives of a celebrity; the same privacy completely ignored by the media. I knew it would be difficult to remain objective because I am so impassioned and disgusted by American culture and the value given to personal and private affairs of celebrities. I despise celebrity-mongers.
But yes, it burns my butt.
Not that he cheated.
Not that he got caught.
Not that we are invading this man's privacy and affecting his personal plight, and the life of his family, with our judgements.
Not that these aren't all valid issues.
What has been on my mind lately and what is really turning me off is the blatant arrogance of Man. Mankind that is.
I watched Frost Nixon this week, which, if you have not seen it, go rent it...today. Not only is it a poignant reflection of the Nixon Watergate scandal, but a brilliant film put together so well it made my passion for film rise (if that is even possible). The characters are outstanding and it is a great study on politicians, media personalities, and passion for the truth and what is right.
The turning point in the film, for me, was when Nixon called Frost on the telephone to lecture him, and in fact, challenge him to beat him in this interview process. Nixon basically alerts Frost to the fact that Nixon is the most competent adversary, and in this blatant show of arrogance, lets his guard down. It was this slip, this show of weakness, for a split second which allowed Frost to rally up for the most important interview of his life... and catch Nixon off guard.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejvyDn1TPr8
Frost was not smarter, Nixon, in fact, defeated himself with his arrogance and his own ego.
This is the plight of man.
Men cheat, for one reason. Because they can. They think they are smarter. They think they can get away with it. Their arrogance and their ego's lead them down a path of blind surety; destined to fail, because if we are to be reminded of any one thing on a daily basis - it is: we are human.
This voice-mail details the humbleness all men must face when their ego takes over for their sense of self, family and what is right:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/12/02/tiger-woods-voicemail-aud_n_376692.html
Hey Tiger,
Any woman willing to ignore your marriage and show what lack or morality and family value she has not only for you, your wife, and your children, but also for herself, is NEVER going to do you a favor.
But yes, it burns my butt.
Not that he cheated.
Not that he got caught.
Not that we are invading this man's privacy and affecting his personal plight, and the life of his family, with our judgements.
Not that these aren't all valid issues.
What has been on my mind lately and what is really turning me off is the blatant arrogance of Man. Mankind that is.
I watched Frost Nixon this week, which, if you have not seen it, go rent it...today. Not only is it a poignant reflection of the Nixon Watergate scandal, but a brilliant film put together so well it made my passion for film rise (if that is even possible). The characters are outstanding and it is a great study on politicians, media personalities, and passion for the truth and what is right.
The turning point in the film, for me, was when Nixon called Frost on the telephone to lecture him, and in fact, challenge him to beat him in this interview process. Nixon basically alerts Frost to the fact that Nixon is the most competent adversary, and in this blatant show of arrogance, lets his guard down. It was this slip, this show of weakness, for a split second which allowed Frost to rally up for the most important interview of his life... and catch Nixon off guard.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejvyDn1TPr8
Frost was not smarter, Nixon, in fact, defeated himself with his arrogance and his own ego.
This is the plight of man.
Men cheat, for one reason. Because they can. They think they are smarter. They think they can get away with it. Their arrogance and their ego's lead them down a path of blind surety; destined to fail, because if we are to be reminded of any one thing on a daily basis - it is: we are human.
This voice-mail details the humbleness all men must face when their ego takes over for their sense of self, family and what is right:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/12/02/tiger-woods-voicemail-aud_n_376692.html
Hey Tiger,
Any woman willing to ignore your marriage and show what lack or morality and family value she has not only for you, your wife, and your children, but also for herself, is NEVER going to do you a favor.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Perception, value and hot ham sandwiches
Perception is reality.
Value is relative.
Hot ham with melted cheese is good... on toast... with Dijon.
This is all...
Monday, November 16, 2009
Double Standards
I have seen some very intriguing acts by some individuals close to me lately and I want to address the concept of double standards and why some think the world revolves around their needs. Is this a sign of home training - nature vs nurture, or a developed concept in line with self-imposed needs and pure selfishness?
On a day to day basis I notice in traffic, at the grocery, speaking on the phone, even in interviews - people consistently behave in a manner which reminds me to teach my kids the importance of treating people the way you would want to be treated. On one hand, I am glad that I get these opportunities to remember what my role is as a parent, on the other hand, it's so frustrating to have people whine about what they aren't getting and simultaneously deny a common courtesy of others.
I have been on a ridiculous number if interviews lately. Interviews where the business owner states, "I will call you, one way or the other", and they don't. Yet, they complain that the integrity of the applicants or former employees is in question.
I listened to my son complain that he never has his own money to purchase things for himself (like candy), while his sister gets her own money and always has candy and games and her own "stuff", yet she never shares with him. Then he proceeded to tell me in the next breath how he wanted a spcific game for Christmas, not just because it was fun, but because he would be able to prevent his sister from playing "his" game. His stuff would have greater value to her than it would to himself.
I have a friend in SoCal/Newport Beach who maintains relationships with female friends all over the country. He is somewhat of a flirt (salesman), calling, texting and flirting via social networking sites. He even visits with them when he travels, yet he consistently asks his live in girlfriend who she is texting and calling. He has issue with her dancing and flirting with other men publicly as well.
"Do as I say not as I do."
My mom said this phrase to me once when I was a teenager and I didn't quite understand it at the time. Now, (as a parent) I get it, but wonder how it relates to adults in day to day relationships. If I have friends who never come to my house to visit, but only want me to drive to their house, It grows old quickly. And I have done that. I'm lazy when it comes to driving.
I also prefer to cook rather than go out to eat. I'm cheap and I think I'm a good cook. That doesn't mean that my friends want to come to my house all the time because I want them to. There is compromise.
I used to believe that double standards were acted out by a small portion of the earth, but recently realize that everyone has them.
"Don't talk shit about me, but I'll talk shit about you."
"It's ok for me to go out and chat up members of the opposite sex, but not ok for you."
"Don't eat my donut, but I finished off your ice cream."
Every where I look. It's amazing.
When did we become so self-absorbed?
Maybe as I explain to my son that if he wants his sister to share her toys and her candy, perhaps he should stop stealing her lemonheads and share his toys, maybe she will follow suit and share with him...I hope. Or maybe she will continue to keep her shit and eat his too, because she can and that's the world we live in now.
On a day to day basis I notice in traffic, at the grocery, speaking on the phone, even in interviews - people consistently behave in a manner which reminds me to teach my kids the importance of treating people the way you would want to be treated. On one hand, I am glad that I get these opportunities to remember what my role is as a parent, on the other hand, it's so frustrating to have people whine about what they aren't getting and simultaneously deny a common courtesy of others.
I have been on a ridiculous number if interviews lately. Interviews where the business owner states, "I will call you, one way or the other", and they don't. Yet, they complain that the integrity of the applicants or former employees is in question.
I listened to my son complain that he never has his own money to purchase things for himself (like candy), while his sister gets her own money and always has candy and games and her own "stuff", yet she never shares with him. Then he proceeded to tell me in the next breath how he wanted a spcific game for Christmas, not just because it was fun, but because he would be able to prevent his sister from playing "his" game. His stuff would have greater value to her than it would to himself.
I have a friend in SoCal/Newport Beach who maintains relationships with female friends all over the country. He is somewhat of a flirt (salesman), calling, texting and flirting via social networking sites. He even visits with them when he travels, yet he consistently asks his live in girlfriend who she is texting and calling. He has issue with her dancing and flirting with other men publicly as well.
"Do as I say not as I do."
My mom said this phrase to me once when I was a teenager and I didn't quite understand it at the time. Now, (as a parent) I get it, but wonder how it relates to adults in day to day relationships. If I have friends who never come to my house to visit, but only want me to drive to their house, It grows old quickly. And I have done that. I'm lazy when it comes to driving.
I also prefer to cook rather than go out to eat. I'm cheap and I think I'm a good cook. That doesn't mean that my friends want to come to my house all the time because I want them to. There is compromise.
I used to believe that double standards were acted out by a small portion of the earth, but recently realize that everyone has them.
"Don't talk shit about me, but I'll talk shit about you."
"It's ok for me to go out and chat up members of the opposite sex, but not ok for you."
"Don't eat my donut, but I finished off your ice cream."
Every where I look. It's amazing.
When did we become so self-absorbed?
Maybe as I explain to my son that if he wants his sister to share her toys and her candy, perhaps he should stop stealing her lemonheads and share his toys, maybe she will follow suit and share with him...I hope. Or maybe she will continue to keep her shit and eat his too, because she can and that's the world we live in now.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Homage to the Pittsburgh Steelers
Dear Steelers Fans,
How I love thee in your Black and Gold; waving your yellow towels and your yellow flags - taking over the parking lots of Invesco Field in preparation for the Monday Night Football game of the season. Bronco's vs. Steelers in Denver, Monday, November 9, 2009.
I have to admit, I did not know anything about the rivalry between the Steelers and our Bronco's. I know nothing about the history of the Pittsburgh team. I only know our Bronco's have rocked this season and I had big expectations for our Monday night football game at home.
Tailgating has become part of our fan-appreciation- preparation for these home games.
Standing in parking lots, grilling steaks, munching guacamole and chips, drinking beers and showing our team spirit by playing cornhole, and the such, while screaming about our favorite teams.
I had been told how loyal the Steelers fans are, but I got to see it myself, as I stood amongst a handful of Bronco supporters as the Steeler Nation took over the west parking lots of Invesco field.
It didn't deter my support of the Bronco's as I waited patiently for the game to start. I thought "what a bunch of loud mouths", it's going to suck when their team loses and they have to go home wearing those ridiculous costumes - waving their paltry little yellow towels. Then I noticed a fan in the true Orange and Blue whose bright orange shirt read, "Only bitches carry little yellow towels". And I laughed.
Then the game began, and I watched Denver open it up with a 3 point field goal, and we were off to the races. I was pleased and certain that all the hype about this Pittsburgh mania would be unwarranted and we could go back to praising our Bronco's in peace after all the hoopla.
The Steeler fans were en mass, every where I looked, black and gold, yellow towels....ergh the silly yellow towels, waving waving waving.
The more the Steelers carried the ball, caught the ball, ran the ball...scoring and winning... the insipid yellow towels waved their support. The Steelers were strong. The Steelers brought an amazing game of football to Denver's stadium. The Bronco's were defeated and embarrassed by a humbling Monday Night football loss to the Pittsburgh Steelers.
As a result of this loss I am writing this piece on how great the Steelers are and what a talented team Pittsburgh has...
Much respect,
How I love thee in your Black and Gold; waving your yellow towels and your yellow flags - taking over the parking lots of Invesco Field in preparation for the Monday Night Football game of the season. Bronco's vs. Steelers in Denver, Monday, November 9, 2009.
I have to admit, I did not know anything about the rivalry between the Steelers and our Bronco's. I know nothing about the history of the Pittsburgh team. I only know our Bronco's have rocked this season and I had big expectations for our Monday night football game at home.
Tailgating has become part of our fan-appreciation- preparation for these home games.
Standing in parking lots, grilling steaks, munching guacamole and chips, drinking beers and showing our team spirit by playing cornhole, and the such, while screaming about our favorite teams.
I had been told how loyal the Steelers fans are, but I got to see it myself, as I stood amongst a handful of Bronco supporters as the Steeler Nation took over the west parking lots of Invesco field.
It didn't deter my support of the Bronco's as I waited patiently for the game to start. I thought "what a bunch of loud mouths", it's going to suck when their team loses and they have to go home wearing those ridiculous costumes - waving their paltry little yellow towels. Then I noticed a fan in the true Orange and Blue whose bright orange shirt read, "Only bitches carry little yellow towels". And I laughed.
Then the game began, and I watched Denver open it up with a 3 point field goal, and we were off to the races. I was pleased and certain that all the hype about this Pittsburgh mania would be unwarranted and we could go back to praising our Bronco's in peace after all the hoopla.
The Steeler fans were en mass, every where I looked, black and gold, yellow towels....ergh the silly yellow towels, waving waving waving.
The more the Steelers carried the ball, caught the ball, ran the ball...scoring and winning... the insipid yellow towels waved their support. The Steelers were strong. The Steelers brought an amazing game of football to Denver's stadium. The Bronco's were defeated and embarrassed by a humbling Monday Night football loss to the Pittsburgh Steelers.
As a result of this loss I am writing this piece on how great the Steelers are and what a talented team Pittsburgh has...
Much respect,
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Snow...wonderful snow!
Shout out to the Wash Park Sweetheart with the dog who pushed me(& my car) out of the snow drift in front of Wash Perk - Thank you! Thank you ! Thank you!...and your dog~
Now for some fun pics & Video...enjoy~
Friday, October 23, 2009
the inside of strawberry cake
This afternoon was one of those days when I felt like I had no idea where I was going. Every career opportunity seems to have fallen through the cracks. I have had the roller coaster ups and downs of relationships (friends and love interests), and I have had so many breathtaking moments I would never take it back, but just as many stifling seconds that I wonder, is this what everyone does for love and friendship?
I find when I am overwhelmed with life I talk to my Nana. I find a quiet place, and I ask what to do. What is my next step? Where is my path taking me? I say aloud (putting into the universe and hearing myself speak), “Tell me what to do.”
I wait and I wait for an answer. Today, I thought about all my options; my kids, my lifestyle, rent. I thought about how much tragedy has escaped into the atmosphere because people don’t feel they have an out – a resource – anyone who really gives a shit about what happens to them. I thought about how to let go and how to hang on.
I wondered if any of this would ever make sense.
I decided to bake a cake; a sweet pound cake with fresh strawberries. I thought, at least, I can still make something to give to my family to show them I love them. I mixed it and threw it in the oven. My thoughts were all over the place. I drove to pick up my daughter from high school. Maybe this is the beginning of my midlife crisis. I am over 40. I have a teenage daughter. I am single …again. Perhaps everyone goes through the exact same thing and it’s simply my turn.
When I pulled into the high school parking lot my sweet girl bounced to the car…because that’s who she is – I take full credit for that…and she threw her backpack in, sat down and closed the door. I backed up and held my tongue before I said anything. I always try to think about what I say aloud and what I keep to myself, especially when I’m in a mood. Before we even left the parking lot, she looked at me and said, “You’re doing a great job mom.” I immediately asked what she wanted because generally speaking, the grease comes before the rub. She said, “Nothing, I just wanted you to know I am not ungrateful and you do a good job.” I responded, “A good job picking you up from school and driving you around?” She said, “yes, and keeping a roof over our heads and feeding us. You are a good mom.”
I burst into tears, and she laughed, and I realized once again – she is my daughter. Every time I make her smile or laugh makes me happy. It’s like a drug. Even when she’s laughing at me, it is the best feeling in the world. My teenage daughter thinks I’m a good mom. I thought my life sucked…and it couldn’t be better.
And I burned the cake. When we walked in the door I saw the smoke. I thought I could juggle a bit too much as usual), and as I pulled it out of the oven, and all the smoke wafted up to the ceiling I was bummed, for a second. Then I cut into it and the inside was soft and good and the strawberries were perfectly sweet. Again, even when the outside looks like shit – the inside couldn’t be sweeter.
I find when I am overwhelmed with life I talk to my Nana. I find a quiet place, and I ask what to do. What is my next step? Where is my path taking me? I say aloud (putting into the universe and hearing myself speak), “Tell me what to do.”
I wait and I wait for an answer. Today, I thought about all my options; my kids, my lifestyle, rent. I thought about how much tragedy has escaped into the atmosphere because people don’t feel they have an out – a resource – anyone who really gives a shit about what happens to them. I thought about how to let go and how to hang on.
I wondered if any of this would ever make sense.
I decided to bake a cake; a sweet pound cake with fresh strawberries. I thought, at least, I can still make something to give to my family to show them I love them. I mixed it and threw it in the oven. My thoughts were all over the place. I drove to pick up my daughter from high school. Maybe this is the beginning of my midlife crisis. I am over 40. I have a teenage daughter. I am single …again. Perhaps everyone goes through the exact same thing and it’s simply my turn.
When I pulled into the high school parking lot my sweet girl bounced to the car…because that’s who she is – I take full credit for that…and she threw her backpack in, sat down and closed the door. I backed up and held my tongue before I said anything. I always try to think about what I say aloud and what I keep to myself, especially when I’m in a mood. Before we even left the parking lot, she looked at me and said, “You’re doing a great job mom.” I immediately asked what she wanted because generally speaking, the grease comes before the rub. She said, “Nothing, I just wanted you to know I am not ungrateful and you do a good job.” I responded, “A good job picking you up from school and driving you around?” She said, “yes, and keeping a roof over our heads and feeding us. You are a good mom.”
I burst into tears, and she laughed, and I realized once again – she is my daughter. Every time I make her smile or laugh makes me happy. It’s like a drug. Even when she’s laughing at me, it is the best feeling in the world. My teenage daughter thinks I’m a good mom. I thought my life sucked…and it couldn’t be better.
And I burned the cake. When we walked in the door I saw the smoke. I thought I could juggle a bit too much as usual), and as I pulled it out of the oven, and all the smoke wafted up to the ceiling I was bummed, for a second. Then I cut into it and the inside was soft and good and the strawberries were perfectly sweet. Again, even when the outside looks like shit – the inside couldn’t be sweeter.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Running Naked in the Street
This morning as I drove my daughter to school, I saw a man running butt-ass naked down Alameda in front of Country Club about 3 blocks from the neighborhood elementary school. I drive this route everyday and as I saw him coming towards me, in the center of the road, I noticed he seemed frazzled. This is not a normal activity in my neighborhood. I usually see the same police officer waiting for speeders to blow through the school zone. I see my Starbucks lovers waiting to get a parking space in the lot. I see parents walking their children to school. I generally do not see naked men trotting down the center of the street.
As he got closer, I noticed a bizarre look in his eye. He was also slowing down his pace. I don't know if it was the weather or the hill, but he was coming to the end of his run. Even if he had worn shoes and socks, the 32 degree weather would have eventually slowed his pace. I remembered briefly a naked Halloween run in Boulder where the participants wear pumpkins on their heads and thought maybe this was a college or youthful shoot-off of this activity. But, I saw this "look" in his eye that convinced me otherwise.
This wasn't a college prank. This guy was off.
I continued on to my house - I have 30 minutes to get the 2nd kid off to school.
As I drove the same route, in reverse, to take my son to school, I had a conversation with him about crazy and the people who wear it well. I told him about the guy running and talked to him about a little girl who was snatched yesterday and how her body was found last night and why I warn him not to talk to strangers. I noticed a few police cars in the neighborhood so I slowed and asked one of the officers if they were responding to the "naked guy running down the street" and they said yes. I then asked if it was a prank, or if there was something wrong with him and they responded "bi-polar." I talked to my son about people that are having a hard time functioning right now, not only because of any pre-determined illness, or psychosis, but also because of the state of affairs the world is in right now. People can't afford their medications. People are homeless and jobless. The world is in crisis and people are acting out.
Then I got home and read this:
Taurus (4/20-5/20)
When you're driving in your car, you realize that you are not the only driver on the road -- after all, you must be aware of what other people are doing to be as safe as you can be. This awareness should apply to all areas of your life right now. Take note of who is around you and how they are behaving. Be careful of how others may affect day's scheduled route. Plan a detour, just in case.
I have never had such a literal synopsis of my day (or my morning), but I appreciated the heads up...if only I had read it before I left the house this morning. As usual, I believe the universe is speaking to me and I will detour this afternoon, but I'm glad I got the opportunity to warn my kids to be aware.
As he got closer, I noticed a bizarre look in his eye. He was also slowing down his pace. I don't know if it was the weather or the hill, but he was coming to the end of his run. Even if he had worn shoes and socks, the 32 degree weather would have eventually slowed his pace. I remembered briefly a naked Halloween run in Boulder where the participants wear pumpkins on their heads and thought maybe this was a college or youthful shoot-off of this activity. But, I saw this "look" in his eye that convinced me otherwise.
This wasn't a college prank. This guy was off.
I continued on to my house - I have 30 minutes to get the 2nd kid off to school.
As I drove the same route, in reverse, to take my son to school, I had a conversation with him about crazy and the people who wear it well. I told him about the guy running and talked to him about a little girl who was snatched yesterday and how her body was found last night and why I warn him not to talk to strangers. I noticed a few police cars in the neighborhood so I slowed and asked one of the officers if they were responding to the "naked guy running down the street" and they said yes. I then asked if it was a prank, or if there was something wrong with him and they responded "bi-polar." I talked to my son about people that are having a hard time functioning right now, not only because of any pre-determined illness, or psychosis, but also because of the state of affairs the world is in right now. People can't afford their medications. People are homeless and jobless. The world is in crisis and people are acting out.
Then I got home and read this:
Taurus (4/20-5/20)
When you're driving in your car, you realize that you are not the only driver on the road -- after all, you must be aware of what other people are doing to be as safe as you can be. This awareness should apply to all areas of your life right now. Take note of who is around you and how they are behaving. Be careful of how others may affect day's scheduled route. Plan a detour, just in case.
I have never had such a literal synopsis of my day (or my morning), but I appreciated the heads up...if only I had read it before I left the house this morning. As usual, I believe the universe is speaking to me and I will detour this afternoon, but I'm glad I got the opportunity to warn my kids to be aware.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
School Nurse Humor
Yesterday I received a call from my son's school. It was shortly after 10a, so I wondered what could have happened so quickly in the day. It was the school nurse who had my son in her office with a note from his 3rd grade teacher. She wanted to let me know that my son had ingested a go-gurt from last week's lunch and his tummy didn't feel well.
I was a bit confused.
How did my son get a go-gurt from last week's lunch?
Did I need to pick him up from school?
How sick was he?
The nurse informed me that she simply read the note from the teacher and gave my son a lecture on dairy products and refrigeration. Something I had apparently overlooked. She then went on to say that I didn't need to come get him, she just wanted to give me a heads up. So, I asked again, how did my son get a dairy product from last week's lunch when he had a perfectly good, fresh lunch packed for him this morning. She asked, "Would you like to speak to him?"
Saunders answered, "hello." I repeated my question to him. "Why did you eat a go-gurt from last week when you had a fresh snack/ lunch today...and how did you get it - where did it come from?" He began to explain to me how, on Friday, he wanted to save the go-gurt for after school, but forgot it, and by chance, left his lunchbox in the lunchbox bin in the classroom over the weekend, so when snack time arrived, he thought he would take the opportunity to devour last weeks snack first. I think I threw up a little in my mouth. I asked him, "why?"
He simply responded, "I don't know."
I have a boy.
We had a conversation on the difference between refrigerated items and food items which are stored in the cabinet when he got home.
I was a bit confused.
How did my son get a go-gurt from last week's lunch?
Did I need to pick him up from school?
How sick was he?
The nurse informed me that she simply read the note from the teacher and gave my son a lecture on dairy products and refrigeration. Something I had apparently overlooked. She then went on to say that I didn't need to come get him, she just wanted to give me a heads up. So, I asked again, how did my son get a dairy product from last week's lunch when he had a perfectly good, fresh lunch packed for him this morning. She asked, "Would you like to speak to him?"
Saunders answered, "hello." I repeated my question to him. "Why did you eat a go-gurt from last week when you had a fresh snack/ lunch today...and how did you get it - where did it come from?" He began to explain to me how, on Friday, he wanted to save the go-gurt for after school, but forgot it, and by chance, left his lunchbox in the lunchbox bin in the classroom over the weekend, so when snack time arrived, he thought he would take the opportunity to devour last weeks snack first. I think I threw up a little in my mouth. I asked him, "why?"
He simply responded, "I don't know."
I have a boy.
We had a conversation on the difference between refrigerated items and food items which are stored in the cabinet when he got home.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
On the topic of being a single Mom...
I realize, or I should say I notice lately that the bulk of my friends are single and childless; most by choice, some just by timing. The friends I do spend any amount of time with that do have kids are single dads. This in itself is a societal change that makes the stereotype of being a single mom more of a common, and being a single dad more the new selective point of interest in modern society.
And still single dads are looked upon as some sort of hero. Single moms have been doing the same thing for decades upon decades, yet the stereotype moved from “poor her” to simply being a substantial part of the mainstream. The stereotype of single dad moved from, “what horrible woman would leave her kids to a man” to “what an amazing father”.
Makes me want to puke.
My mom was a single mom and I remember times when she worked 3 jobs to keep our house running. My Nana was a widow and I remember her cleaning houses and going to nursing school full time while raising me. She raised 4 kids and a few grandkids. Women have been taking care of children, making a home while working and educating themselves for years. Our strength as women has allowed society around us to forget the challenge of remaining a woman and an individual outside the stereotype. And, I believe, because we spend so much time catering to men, we have put them on a pedestal for doing the same thing we have been doing all along. I think about how to address certain discussions with my son on being a man and doing the right thing in life, but it’s expected. My single dad counterparts have the awkward task of explaining menstruation to teenage girls and teaching them how to put on makeup and NOT dress like a hoochie. What man wants to have the discussion with his daughters about why her best friends from school last week are so mean to her at school this week? Does he even know?
I don’t believe it’s any easier for a woman to be a mom (much less a single mom), it’s just come to be expected. Women are expected to run the house, raise the kids, make lunches, balance the checkbook, get the cable turned off/on, get a job, feed the dog, register for school/soccer/swim team/etc etc etc, drive carpool, plan play-dates, do the grocery shopping, show up for all the games/awards ceremonies/recitals/etc etc etc, man up for sex, while working on her Master’s thesis and look beautiful while doing it. While a dad (single dad or otherwise) gets a break simply because he’s a man. Really?
Yet another point to be debated on the list of, “equality vs. inequality” of the sexes.
In the end we don’t get paid as much for being mom’s either.
And still single dads are looked upon as some sort of hero. Single moms have been doing the same thing for decades upon decades, yet the stereotype moved from “poor her” to simply being a substantial part of the mainstream. The stereotype of single dad moved from, “what horrible woman would leave her kids to a man” to “what an amazing father”.
Makes me want to puke.
My mom was a single mom and I remember times when she worked 3 jobs to keep our house running. My Nana was a widow and I remember her cleaning houses and going to nursing school full time while raising me. She raised 4 kids and a few grandkids. Women have been taking care of children, making a home while working and educating themselves for years. Our strength as women has allowed society around us to forget the challenge of remaining a woman and an individual outside the stereotype. And, I believe, because we spend so much time catering to men, we have put them on a pedestal for doing the same thing we have been doing all along. I think about how to address certain discussions with my son on being a man and doing the right thing in life, but it’s expected. My single dad counterparts have the awkward task of explaining menstruation to teenage girls and teaching them how to put on makeup and NOT dress like a hoochie. What man wants to have the discussion with his daughters about why her best friends from school last week are so mean to her at school this week? Does he even know?
I don’t believe it’s any easier for a woman to be a mom (much less a single mom), it’s just come to be expected. Women are expected to run the house, raise the kids, make lunches, balance the checkbook, get the cable turned off/on, get a job, feed the dog, register for school/soccer/swim team/etc etc etc, drive carpool, plan play-dates, do the grocery shopping, show up for all the games/awards ceremonies/recitals/etc etc etc, man up for sex, while working on her Master’s thesis and look beautiful while doing it. While a dad (single dad or otherwise) gets a break simply because he’s a man. Really?
Yet another point to be debated on the list of, “equality vs. inequality” of the sexes.
In the end we don’t get paid as much for being mom’s either.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Is society failing men?
I had an interesting conversation with a really charismatic man over the weekend, and he brought it to my attention that he noticed the lack of Rites of Passages for men these days. He had the opportunity to train and work as a firefighter/ EMT in his youth. During the course of this training he also had the opportunity to grow up, be hazed properly, and in fact be inducted into manhood by his peers. His comment to me was society as a whole is failing men as they don't have these traditional rituals which raise men to be men. In fact, these rituals which make men hard and strong. Hard being equivalent to powerful in a society where power is equated with success.
It was quite intriguing to hear someone in my same age range discuss subjects which I ponder as a single mom. I think often, it's hard to raise a man. I don't want my son to be soft. I hear myself telling him to "man up". My favorite is when he tells me, "it's not fair" and I respond, "life's not fair, get used to it". It breaks my heart sometimes to push him a little harder, to expect a little more, but I realize, if I don't, who will? I want him to spend as much time with his father as possible, to learn "man things". When it was time for him to be potty trained, I sent him to his dad. I don't know how to show a man how to pee while standing. Would that not be the greatest trick ever? I know when it's time to talk about the birds and bees, I would love to pass the baton on that one as well. There are some things men need to learn from other men.
I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by amazing women in my life. Smart, funny women who empower each other for the most part. At the least, great examples of what socializing and friendships should look like. But men...that's more challenging. I have great male friends; friends from college, my best friends boyfriends, even relatives that I don't see that often but show up just in time for some man-ley advice sometimes. I generally don't have men that I date spend time or offer advice to my children. But, I think often that there are always good qualities one could pass on to a child if the situation were different.
One of my male friends has confided in me that he would like to study nursing - pediatric nursing actually. My response at the time was "don't you need to be nurturing to have that career?" He was actually offended. Then in explaining my judgement of what I thought the definition of nurturing looked like and what I see in his personality as fun and smart, and moreso a man's man, I just didn't get it. I didn't feel he had ever shown me a nurturing side, and he almost yelled at me that I didn't need to be nurtured, as if he would be wasting that side of his personality on me. I had to contemplate this for weeks before I realized I put off the air that I don't need to be nurtured. My friends don't nurture me because of who I am not because of who they are. Yikes.
This led to the realization (again) that peception is reality. We put out into the Universe what we believe to be true. I treat men as the non-nurturers of society because my perception dictates that. I see this correllation between the downfall of strength in our society dictated by the over-exasperation of what is politically correct vs. what is base truth. I am certain I am doing a fine job raising my son...to be my perception of what a strong male figure looks like. But what stands to integrate these above mentioned traditions vs. my point of view?
I am interested in what my readers (males in particular) think about this topic and how they see the generation of men being raised in our society today being scutinized for their lack of traditional training.
It was quite intriguing to hear someone in my same age range discuss subjects which I ponder as a single mom. I think often, it's hard to raise a man. I don't want my son to be soft. I hear myself telling him to "man up". My favorite is when he tells me, "it's not fair" and I respond, "life's not fair, get used to it". It breaks my heart sometimes to push him a little harder, to expect a little more, but I realize, if I don't, who will? I want him to spend as much time with his father as possible, to learn "man things". When it was time for him to be potty trained, I sent him to his dad. I don't know how to show a man how to pee while standing. Would that not be the greatest trick ever? I know when it's time to talk about the birds and bees, I would love to pass the baton on that one as well. There are some things men need to learn from other men.
I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by amazing women in my life. Smart, funny women who empower each other for the most part. At the least, great examples of what socializing and friendships should look like. But men...that's more challenging. I have great male friends; friends from college, my best friends boyfriends, even relatives that I don't see that often but show up just in time for some man-ley advice sometimes. I generally don't have men that I date spend time or offer advice to my children. But, I think often that there are always good qualities one could pass on to a child if the situation were different.
One of my male friends has confided in me that he would like to study nursing - pediatric nursing actually. My response at the time was "don't you need to be nurturing to have that career?" He was actually offended. Then in explaining my judgement of what I thought the definition of nurturing looked like and what I see in his personality as fun and smart, and moreso a man's man, I just didn't get it. I didn't feel he had ever shown me a nurturing side, and he almost yelled at me that I didn't need to be nurtured, as if he would be wasting that side of his personality on me. I had to contemplate this for weeks before I realized I put off the air that I don't need to be nurtured. My friends don't nurture me because of who I am not because of who they are. Yikes.
This led to the realization (again) that peception is reality. We put out into the Universe what we believe to be true. I treat men as the non-nurturers of society because my perception dictates that. I see this correllation between the downfall of strength in our society dictated by the over-exasperation of what is politically correct vs. what is base truth. I am certain I am doing a fine job raising my son...to be my perception of what a strong male figure looks like. But what stands to integrate these above mentioned traditions vs. my point of view?
I am interested in what my readers (males in particular) think about this topic and how they see the generation of men being raised in our society today being scutinized for their lack of traditional training.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Competition and Men's Luck
If you have seen the Chris Rock standup routine where he talks about men being pet projects of women and how other women aren't even thinking of looking twice at some men until their new woman cleaned them up, gave them a tic tac and basically "trained them" - now these men are getting random booty calls mid-week asking for "freaky-stuff".
Chris Rock has a way of bringing the funny to the table, no matter what the situation. The reality of this schtick is the true competitive nature of women. Men seem to be under the impression that if they smile and swagger, women will drop at their feet. Well, some women, yes. What I have learned (as a wingman for most of my male friends) is that men who are surrounded by beautiful women pull more beautiful women. There is a competitive instinct amongst women that rivals that of most men.
Where does this desire to win man's affection come from? Is it instinctual? Is it hormonal?
Or is it not as much about competition as it is about pheramones? Men who have a woman in their life tend to put off a sexier air. Their confidence is higher. They are more secure. Perhaps these things are more appealing to women, and lead
Is it as simple as caveman days, updated by the power struggle women have had to gain what we perceive as a society as strength. My cave needs to be bigger, I need to win the stronger of the species to procreate and make a master race. Is it simply a Darwinistic approach to social structure which is as obvious as the need to breathe oxygen and drink water?
This is an ongoing discussion that will be updated sporadically as more info and commentary are submitted...
Chris Rock has a way of bringing the funny to the table, no matter what the situation. The reality of this schtick is the true competitive nature of women. Men seem to be under the impression that if they smile and swagger, women will drop at their feet. Well, some women, yes. What I have learned (as a wingman for most of my male friends) is that men who are surrounded by beautiful women pull more beautiful women. There is a competitive instinct amongst women that rivals that of most men.
Where does this desire to win man's affection come from? Is it instinctual? Is it hormonal?
Or is it not as much about competition as it is about pheramones? Men who have a woman in their life tend to put off a sexier air. Their confidence is higher. They are more secure. Perhaps these things are more appealing to women, and lead
Is it as simple as caveman days, updated by the power struggle women have had to gain what we perceive as a society as strength. My cave needs to be bigger, I need to win the stronger of the species to procreate and make a master race. Is it simply a Darwinistic approach to social structure which is as obvious as the need to breathe oxygen and drink water?
This is an ongoing discussion that will be updated sporadically as more info and commentary are submitted...
Monday, September 28, 2009
NO Bitch!
So, this is one of my favorite phrases. And why you ask?
Well, to begin it is well known that if you need to add the word "Bitch" to the end of any statement or phrase it immediately adds the impact and knowledge of "I think you're a dumbass". Not that the word "No" has any other connotation than the direct meaning, but for some reason people tend to act as if they don't understand the word whenever it is directed at them. Thus the reason for, "Just say No", and "No means No" campaigns. We have to train ourselves to hear the word and embrace the meaning as truth.
So when placing the words No Bitch together in a sentence, this is a radical statement of, "I know you understood what I said, and not only that but apparently you think I have the patience for your dumbass today." Yeeeess!
Needless to say, I am a fan of the direct.
Today, I was milling through some reviews on the website Yelp - just catching up on what's going on in different cities with my friends and reading some truly funny snippets. I came across this little gem, and I just had to share:
http://www.yelp.com/biz/triple-r-repair-service-chicago#hrid:FbsMIX9mS45lpqnLMZgd7w
My friend Tina is also a fan of the "No Bitch" phenom and I gotta say I laughed out loud and almost peed my pants. Yeah Tina...review of the day!
Well, to begin it is well known that if you need to add the word "Bitch" to the end of any statement or phrase it immediately adds the impact and knowledge of "I think you're a dumbass". Not that the word "No" has any other connotation than the direct meaning, but for some reason people tend to act as if they don't understand the word whenever it is directed at them. Thus the reason for, "Just say No", and "No means No" campaigns. We have to train ourselves to hear the word and embrace the meaning as truth.
So when placing the words No Bitch together in a sentence, this is a radical statement of, "I know you understood what I said, and not only that but apparently you think I have the patience for your dumbass today." Yeeeess!
Needless to say, I am a fan of the direct.
Today, I was milling through some reviews on the website Yelp - just catching up on what's going on in different cities with my friends and reading some truly funny snippets. I came across this little gem, and I just had to share:
http://www.yelp.com/biz/triple-r-repair-service-chicago#hrid:FbsMIX9mS45lpqnLMZgd7w
My friend Tina is also a fan of the "No Bitch" phenom and I gotta say I laughed out loud and almost peed my pants. Yeah Tina...review of the day!
Friday, September 25, 2009
3 years and 1 day
This video has been circulating around FB on the topic of, "If you're not married, you're single".
http://www.facebook.com/ihustlenation
The host makes some valid points about acting like you're married when you're not (and letting someone use you up), and I have been that person, so I had to nod.
The part that made me stop and think was when he states, if you make a commitment to someone - "I am not going to see other people" - and then that commitment is broken - someone cheats - that person simply broke their word. They didn't break the law. They simply broke their word.
He likened this act to someone borrowing a pen and never bringing it back. That person simply broke their word, and you didn't get your pen back.
This is one way to look at it.
And this, my friends, is why people cheat.
I know there are some countries where if you steal a pen, they will chop off the thiefs hand. Where has our sense of personal integrity gone?
This is plain and simple greed. I want my pen and your pen too. I have a pen at home, but I'll just use this pen while I'm out...or travelling...or drinking. I can't just write with one pen at a time, I need a pocket full of pens so when I want a red letter then a blue letter, I can write in every color of the rainbow. Like a kid.
I'm not saying what is right and what is wrong. When I am in a monogamous relationship I appreciate that intimacy. When I am dating for sport, I appreciate the fun and simplicity of not having that intimacy. But, have some personal integrity. Every man who has said to me, point blank, this is what I want, this is what I need...blah blah blah, I have, at times, been shocked initially, but I appreciated the opportunity to decide (my personal choice) whether or not I wanted to participate.
We as human beings (especially Americans) tiptoe around each other, afraid of hurting each others feelings, when life would be so much easier to just state the obvious.
"This race has run its course."
"I'm bored with you."
"I'm not going to marry you, so let's part ways."
"You're an idiot."
Whatever it is you need to say to move on.
I have found, as a woman in my 40's, it is much easier to just state the facts. I don't find that people "get it" when you try to explain feelings, so like a journalist, simply state the facts. We have been taught to tell people, "I feel this" and "I feel that", in an attempt to make others feel better about what they aren't doing for you. "When you do that, it makes me feel like this". Who cares?
What if we just stopped putting so much energy into what we feel like, admit it doesn't feel good, and press on.
Fact: The way we interact makes me feel like shit. Goodbye.
Wouldn't that be so much simpler?
I was in a 3 year long relationship, and I honestly felt like I wasted 3 good years of my life, but who could I blame? Only myself. I let him take 3 years. I gave up 3 years when I could have been with someone that made me feel amazing. Then a friend said to me, just be glad it wasn't 3 years and 1 day. And I am.
Then I thought about Chris Rock, who I always turn to when I need a good honest guffaw.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6X0Qqxx3f0
http://www.facebook.com/ihustlenation
The host makes some valid points about acting like you're married when you're not (and letting someone use you up), and I have been that person, so I had to nod.
The part that made me stop and think was when he states, if you make a commitment to someone - "I am not going to see other people" - and then that commitment is broken - someone cheats - that person simply broke their word. They didn't break the law. They simply broke their word.
He likened this act to someone borrowing a pen and never bringing it back. That person simply broke their word, and you didn't get your pen back.
This is one way to look at it.
And this, my friends, is why people cheat.
I know there are some countries where if you steal a pen, they will chop off the thiefs hand. Where has our sense of personal integrity gone?
This is plain and simple greed. I want my pen and your pen too. I have a pen at home, but I'll just use this pen while I'm out...or travelling...or drinking. I can't just write with one pen at a time, I need a pocket full of pens so when I want a red letter then a blue letter, I can write in every color of the rainbow. Like a kid.
I'm not saying what is right and what is wrong. When I am in a monogamous relationship I appreciate that intimacy. When I am dating for sport, I appreciate the fun and simplicity of not having that intimacy. But, have some personal integrity. Every man who has said to me, point blank, this is what I want, this is what I need...blah blah blah, I have, at times, been shocked initially, but I appreciated the opportunity to decide (my personal choice) whether or not I wanted to participate.
We as human beings (especially Americans) tiptoe around each other, afraid of hurting each others feelings, when life would be so much easier to just state the obvious.
"This race has run its course."
"I'm bored with you."
"I'm not going to marry you, so let's part ways."
"You're an idiot."
Whatever it is you need to say to move on.
I have found, as a woman in my 40's, it is much easier to just state the facts. I don't find that people "get it" when you try to explain feelings, so like a journalist, simply state the facts. We have been taught to tell people, "I feel this" and "I feel that", in an attempt to make others feel better about what they aren't doing for you. "When you do that, it makes me feel like this". Who cares?
What if we just stopped putting so much energy into what we feel like, admit it doesn't feel good, and press on.
Fact: The way we interact makes me feel like shit. Goodbye.
Wouldn't that be so much simpler?
I was in a 3 year long relationship, and I honestly felt like I wasted 3 good years of my life, but who could I blame? Only myself. I let him take 3 years. I gave up 3 years when I could have been with someone that made me feel amazing. Then a friend said to me, just be glad it wasn't 3 years and 1 day. And I am.
Then I thought about Chris Rock, who I always turn to when I need a good honest guffaw.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6X0Qqxx3f0
Friday, September 18, 2009
Pancake Friday
I love Fridays and my kids love pancakes.
School is out today - teachers planning day - Man I'd love to have Fridays off to plan some stuff.
So, we are having pancakes then moseying tothe library to have a study day. Reading and Writing an 'Rithmatic. And me, well, I get to play Mom, all day long ;)
Happy Friday my friends - Enjoy!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Combustion: The Hypocrisy of Race Relations as portrayed by the media
http://www.stltoday.com/stltoday/news/stories.nsf/illinoisnews/story/60D37B6EC5FF4711862576320011605B?OpenDocument
My Hot-Lanta Correspondant via Facebook alerted me to this media story this morning and I will start by saying how disgusted I am. Everytime I see a video of a violent incident being encouraged by a weak, mindless, herd makes me sick.
This type of mob mentality - this pure ignorance is still rampant in every state. No exceptions. America has a history of hatred, built on the foundation of racial inequality and bias (based on our differences). Our country has exploded into a chasm of violence and spontaneous outbursts with no feeling or remorse.
Nature v Nurture?
Where is Jesse today?
My Hot-Lanta Correspondant via Facebook alerted me to this media story this morning and I will start by saying how disgusted I am. Everytime I see a video of a violent incident being encouraged by a weak, mindless, herd makes me sick.
This type of mob mentality - this pure ignorance is still rampant in every state. No exceptions. America has a history of hatred, built on the foundation of racial inequality and bias (based on our differences). Our country has exploded into a chasm of violence and spontaneous outbursts with no feeling or remorse.
Nature v Nurture?
This has always been the question scientists pose regarding our state of welfare. Why do kids act the way they do? Why do certain races behave in the manner they do? Men, women, and the social breakdown goes on. My question to science is, does it really matter? In theory, the purpose of breaking down the reasons why, is to find a solution, but hundreds of years later, and many theories later, there is still no solution.
My theory: Plain old energy. Basic combustion.
The pure oxygen (that we breathe in everyday) = the knowledge of our historic wrongdoing of each other as a community.
Fueled by the heat of the media, whose job it is apparently to rile people up. Sex sells. Violence sells. Happiness is for the weak and disillusioned.
This video will probably make the rounds of every internet news feed. Happy stories will get buried next to the obituaries.
And here's the rub:
The question has been posed, if this was an African American kid getting the beatdown by a group of white kids with more white kids promoting the ass-kicking, the community would be in an uproar. Scheduling marches, getting Rev Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson on board; screaming at the world for justice. This story would have surfaced on every national morning news show.Where is Jesse today?
Monday, September 14, 2009
Loyalty and Integrity
Where do I start?
This morning? This month?
I have been struggling lately.
My family is struggling with one another. My friends are struggling...with each other. My relationship w/ a boy has struggled. My kids seem to be struggling. I have struggled financially and on the career front. I heard that Pluto is in Mars or something wacky, which is causing everyone to be agitated and combustive. I have tried to lay low and let everyone work out their own issues, knowing in my heart that this will level out. That one weekend coming up soon, this will all just dissipate and things will appear normal again.
These are the thoughts that cross my mind because I understand loyalty and integrity. I have friends I have had for 25 years. Friends that, no matter how much time passes between us, we can pick up where we left off because we have this commonality of respect for one another. I believe that the people I have chosen in my life maintain some form of this same value system.
This morning I woke up with a sense of something great in the air. This actually happens quite often for me, but today it seems odd because I am not in an amazing position in life right now. Like I mentioned, I see relationships crumbling around me. I feel very alone as I sit patiently waiting for the chaos around me to subside. My job situation has improved only in theory as the 1 opportunity which has been presented to me won't begin for another 6 weeks (changing nothing about my current financial debacle). Yet, still I have that powerful sense of energy bursting from my heart.
Then I read my horoscope:
"Talk about high energy. You're ready to take on the world -- and anyone in it who gets between you and your dear ones. That goes double for folks you're not fond of. You're already as loyal as a friend could possibly... be -- but now? Now you're armed and ready to fire. Heaven help anyone who decides it might be fun to see just how far you can be pushed." (courtesy yahoo)
I know where this sense of energy and power comes from. It occurs to me that certain traits are learned, and some people don't get the opportunity to have a great mentor. I have worked recently for a woman with very little integrity. I have seen friendships fall apart because of a simple lack of loyalty. I have watched men throw away good women because they have not yet been taught (by example) loyalty, and/or how to behave when you have it. I realized what gives me the power to get up every day and press on; to move forward in life because I believe in something.
I had the opportunity to meet someone with a kindred spirit. Someone who lived freely. Someone who had a set value system. She knew who she was and no one could take that from her. She befriended me in a time of my life where I believed no one. Everyone was a liar. Men cheated. I had grown to understand this was just the way it was. She understood this as well, but taught me to realize even though the outer circle functions like that. It is not right. It is not good. Your inner circle should represent your beliefs, not mirror the negative that is out there. We did not have to be the so-called, "screw you before you screw me" herd.
This thing...this power that lets me smile even when shit has not only hit the fan, but is all over the walls, stuck in the blades, and seems to be covering everything of value - this thing is the knowledge in my soul that I am living with integrity. That my loyalty is unwavering. Even though someone may do me wrong - I am living right.
This is powerful.
I also realized that this was a gift given to me by an amazing woman who took the time to nurture this gift...for a lifelong friend. It's my turn to give this gift back. To teach loyalty to my friends. To show people through my actions what integrity looks like and demand it in return.
It is my turn to exchange this gift with the Universe, so this feeling I have in my heart is something I see in my friends and lover as well. I made a mistake by hiding out and letting chaos usurp my relationships during this difficult time. This is the time I should be gearing up like a warrior and making my inner circle face their challenges head on, because they can, and they have loyal friends here to help them not only get through but be successful as well.
"Love is, above all, the gift of oneself." ~Jean Anouilh
This morning? This month?
I have been struggling lately.
My family is struggling with one another. My friends are struggling...with each other. My relationship w/ a boy has struggled. My kids seem to be struggling. I have struggled financially and on the career front. I heard that Pluto is in Mars or something wacky, which is causing everyone to be agitated and combustive. I have tried to lay low and let everyone work out their own issues, knowing in my heart that this will level out. That one weekend coming up soon, this will all just dissipate and things will appear normal again.
These are the thoughts that cross my mind because I understand loyalty and integrity. I have friends I have had for 25 years. Friends that, no matter how much time passes between us, we can pick up where we left off because we have this commonality of respect for one another. I believe that the people I have chosen in my life maintain some form of this same value system.
This morning I woke up with a sense of something great in the air. This actually happens quite often for me, but today it seems odd because I am not in an amazing position in life right now. Like I mentioned, I see relationships crumbling around me. I feel very alone as I sit patiently waiting for the chaos around me to subside. My job situation has improved only in theory as the 1 opportunity which has been presented to me won't begin for another 6 weeks (changing nothing about my current financial debacle). Yet, still I have that powerful sense of energy bursting from my heart.
Then I read my horoscope:
"Talk about high energy. You're ready to take on the world -- and anyone in it who gets between you and your dear ones. That goes double for folks you're not fond of. You're already as loyal as a friend could possibly... be -- but now? Now you're armed and ready to fire. Heaven help anyone who decides it might be fun to see just how far you can be pushed." (courtesy yahoo)
I know where this sense of energy and power comes from. It occurs to me that certain traits are learned, and some people don't get the opportunity to have a great mentor. I have worked recently for a woman with very little integrity. I have seen friendships fall apart because of a simple lack of loyalty. I have watched men throw away good women because they have not yet been taught (by example) loyalty, and/or how to behave when you have it. I realized what gives me the power to get up every day and press on; to move forward in life because I believe in something.
I had the opportunity to meet someone with a kindred spirit. Someone who lived freely. Someone who had a set value system. She knew who she was and no one could take that from her. She befriended me in a time of my life where I believed no one. Everyone was a liar. Men cheated. I had grown to understand this was just the way it was. She understood this as well, but taught me to realize even though the outer circle functions like that. It is not right. It is not good. Your inner circle should represent your beliefs, not mirror the negative that is out there. We did not have to be the so-called, "screw you before you screw me" herd.
This thing...this power that lets me smile even when shit has not only hit the fan, but is all over the walls, stuck in the blades, and seems to be covering everything of value - this thing is the knowledge in my soul that I am living with integrity. That my loyalty is unwavering. Even though someone may do me wrong - I am living right.
This is powerful.
I also realized that this was a gift given to me by an amazing woman who took the time to nurture this gift...for a lifelong friend. It's my turn to give this gift back. To teach loyalty to my friends. To show people through my actions what integrity looks like and demand it in return.
It is my turn to exchange this gift with the Universe, so this feeling I have in my heart is something I see in my friends and lover as well. I made a mistake by hiding out and letting chaos usurp my relationships during this difficult time. This is the time I should be gearing up like a warrior and making my inner circle face their challenges head on, because they can, and they have loyal friends here to help them not only get through but be successful as well.
"Love is, above all, the gift of oneself." ~Jean Anouilh
Saturday, September 12, 2009
10 Signs He's Not Good Enough For You
After reading this article (Thanks Larry), I had some tips of my own to share~
http://www.askmen.com/top_10/dating/top-10-signs-youre-too-good-for-her_1.html
courtesy askmen.com
The preceding article was funny enough and I'm sure very useful to men who haven't grasped the concept that they deserve someone cool and funny, as well as good looking and whatever other traits they so desire. But, as I read it, I was inclined to think women have the same issues if not moreso defined by the fact that this is not the 50's anymore. Perhaps there is an abundance of women's mags that tell us how to catch the right man, how to be amazing in bed, and how to do all the right things to be appealing. Yet, I hardly ever read an article that says once you've caught this great guy, what that means, and even more important, how you know when to throw it back.
For women, the subtext of most of these articles is, "just be happy you have a man".
Booooo!
"Here are all the right things to do to capture this elusive, fantastic creature".
Booooooo!
How about, what that fool needs to do to catch and KEEP you!
My girlfriends are fabulous women. They are Doctors and Lawyers, and Renaissance Women, Rockin' the Free world. ANY man lucky enough to date one of my friends should count his lucky stars. So, as I read this piece on askmen.com I had to say to myself, Men who are still dating these mindless, blowupdolls; albeit gorgeous, deserve what they end up with because they are simple enough to think that was appealing or engaging in the first place. In response to the askmen.com article:
For my girlfriends out there who are wondering...
Here are 10 Signs He is NOT Good enough for YOU Baby!
10. You find yourself staring into a blank look as you tell him about your life.
It doesn't matter what you are talking about, he just can't listen. You have to repeat yourself over and over again. You find yourself telling the same story 3 sentences after someone else tells it because somehow he missed it. He is always confused about what you're doing and where you're going and swears you never told him.
9. He wants you to have a threesome.
Enough said.
8. Your friends do not like him.
This seems to be a standard for both sexes. If your friends don't like your man, you need to reconsider seriously why you like him. You picked your friends. You've had them for years. You trust them...so trust their judgement.
7. You find you have become a professional ego stroker.
No matter what he's up to in life (or not up to) you are required to make him feel like he's the most awesome at it. "Baby, I didn't know burping could be so girthy. You are the best internal air excretionist ever." Really? Men that are doing great things in life, know it, and don't need you to tell them. This is why they are successful in life. It's called "self-motivation".
6. He always expects you to go "Halfsies".
Call me old fashioned but men need to pay for the 1st date. Period. How you construct your relationship needs after that, based on income, need, lifestyle... whatever, is up to you, But know that whatever you give up in the beginning will set the pace for the rest of your relationship. If you "show him the money" and he takes it, this is what he will expect for the remainder of your time together. And it will get old.
5. He always seems surprised that you've been somewhere or know how to do anything.
He travels for work, but seems shocked that you rented a boat in Italy and sailed around Europe for an entire summer after college. The fact that you speak 3 languages amazes him. Your car beaks down and as you retell the story of how you changed the tire, he asks, "Don't you have AAA?" These men have a low intelligence capacity and even lower concept of what women these days are up to.
4. His mom still does his laundry.
Unless you are 19 and live in a dorm, this is unacceptable.
3. He is jealous.
This is a sign of immaturity, and unless you have done something directly to make him distrust you, this is a passive aggressive sign that he is unable of coping with a mature women who has an active lifestyle. Now if all your friends are men... and they sleep over sometimes... and you drink to blackout stage... and can't tell your new man what you did last night - you are the exception.
2. He has Baby Mama Drama.
If your new man has even one woman in his past that he has a child with, and they cannot have a civil conversation together, this is a huge red flag. As crazy as he says she is, he picked her. Not only did he pick her, but he slept with her..OH, and they had a baby together. Not the best judgement here. Pass.
If he has more than one Baby Mama, and they are all "crazy", RUN.
1. His best asset is the size of his shoe (if ya' know what I mean).
If the only reason you keep going back is because you love the sound of your own voice screaming at the top of your lungs, perhaps you should look into voice lessons. Hot sex does not make a relationship. No matter how you look at it.
http://www.askmen.com/top_10/dating/top-10-signs-youre-too-good-for-her_1.html
courtesy askmen.com
The preceding article was funny enough and I'm sure very useful to men who haven't grasped the concept that they deserve someone cool and funny, as well as good looking and whatever other traits they so desire. But, as I read it, I was inclined to think women have the same issues if not moreso defined by the fact that this is not the 50's anymore. Perhaps there is an abundance of women's mags that tell us how to catch the right man, how to be amazing in bed, and how to do all the right things to be appealing. Yet, I hardly ever read an article that says once you've caught this great guy, what that means, and even more important, how you know when to throw it back.
For women, the subtext of most of these articles is, "just be happy you have a man".
Booooo!
"Here are all the right things to do to capture this elusive, fantastic creature".
Booooooo!
How about, what that fool needs to do to catch and KEEP you!
My girlfriends are fabulous women. They are Doctors and Lawyers, and Renaissance Women, Rockin' the Free world. ANY man lucky enough to date one of my friends should count his lucky stars. So, as I read this piece on askmen.com I had to say to myself, Men who are still dating these mindless, blowupdolls; albeit gorgeous, deserve what they end up with because they are simple enough to think that was appealing or engaging in the first place. In response to the askmen.com article:
For my girlfriends out there who are wondering...
Here are 10 Signs He is NOT Good enough for YOU Baby!
10. You find yourself staring into a blank look as you tell him about your life.
It doesn't matter what you are talking about, he just can't listen. You have to repeat yourself over and over again. You find yourself telling the same story 3 sentences after someone else tells it because somehow he missed it. He is always confused about what you're doing and where you're going and swears you never told him.
9. He wants you to have a threesome.
Enough said.
8. Your friends do not like him.
This seems to be a standard for both sexes. If your friends don't like your man, you need to reconsider seriously why you like him. You picked your friends. You've had them for years. You trust them...so trust their judgement.
7. You find you have become a professional ego stroker.
No matter what he's up to in life (or not up to) you are required to make him feel like he's the most awesome at it. "Baby, I didn't know burping could be so girthy. You are the best internal air excretionist ever." Really? Men that are doing great things in life, know it, and don't need you to tell them. This is why they are successful in life. It's called "self-motivation".
6. He always expects you to go "Halfsies".
Call me old fashioned but men need to pay for the 1st date. Period. How you construct your relationship needs after that, based on income, need, lifestyle... whatever, is up to you, But know that whatever you give up in the beginning will set the pace for the rest of your relationship. If you "show him the money" and he takes it, this is what he will expect for the remainder of your time together. And it will get old.
5. He always seems surprised that you've been somewhere or know how to do anything.
He travels for work, but seems shocked that you rented a boat in Italy and sailed around Europe for an entire summer after college. The fact that you speak 3 languages amazes him. Your car beaks down and as you retell the story of how you changed the tire, he asks, "Don't you have AAA?" These men have a low intelligence capacity and even lower concept of what women these days are up to.
4. His mom still does his laundry.
Unless you are 19 and live in a dorm, this is unacceptable.
3. He is jealous.
This is a sign of immaturity, and unless you have done something directly to make him distrust you, this is a passive aggressive sign that he is unable of coping with a mature women who has an active lifestyle. Now if all your friends are men... and they sleep over sometimes... and you drink to blackout stage... and can't tell your new man what you did last night - you are the exception.
2. He has Baby Mama Drama.
If your new man has even one woman in his past that he has a child with, and they cannot have a civil conversation together, this is a huge red flag. As crazy as he says she is, he picked her. Not only did he pick her, but he slept with her..OH, and they had a baby together. Not the best judgement here. Pass.
If he has more than one Baby Mama, and they are all "crazy", RUN.
1. His best asset is the size of his shoe (if ya' know what I mean).
If the only reason you keep going back is because you love the sound of your own voice screaming at the top of your lungs, perhaps you should look into voice lessons. Hot sex does not make a relationship. No matter how you look at it.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
One more reason people should be required to have a license to have kids
photo courtesy of peopleofwalmart.com
I run my local park every day. Today I noticed tons of strollers blocking up the paths. My fault, I ran later in the morning than usual - the demographic changed. It won't happen again.
Most of the parents pushing strollers have sleeping babies, completely unaware of their morning ritual to get them to nap while mommy or daddy works out. These kids have it made. Enjoying the last of summer, and don't even realize it.
As I approached a mom and grandmom, I noticed the mom was struggling as she carried a large child. Gramdma pushed an empty stroller while this cute, chubby kid gave mom a serious workout.
I stopped carrying my kids when they were about two years old. I am strong, but my kids were big and I am fairly thin. Damn kids are heavy. My ex chose to tote Saunders around even when he was 5 and 6. I discouraged it, for my own health really. When dad wasn't around, Saunders still thought he should be carried. Yeah, NO.
But, to each his own. I thought maybe the kid got tired...oh yeah, he has a stroller. Then I got close enough to pass, and realized 1) this kid was about 2/3rd's the size of mom, quite capable of walking on his own, even if he didn't want to ride in the stroller, and 2) this kid was carrying, and drinking, a diet Mountain Dew.
I'm not even going to get into the whole kids and soda conversation. I just have two words: caffeine and aspartame. Why not just give him a red bull while you're at it?
But, it occurred to me why kids act the way they do in today's society. I mean if my mom carried me around 'til I was 5 years old while I sipped on a mountain dew, why shouldn't you kiss my ass too?
I run my local park every day. Today I noticed tons of strollers blocking up the paths. My fault, I ran later in the morning than usual - the demographic changed. It won't happen again.
Most of the parents pushing strollers have sleeping babies, completely unaware of their morning ritual to get them to nap while mommy or daddy works out. These kids have it made. Enjoying the last of summer, and don't even realize it.
As I approached a mom and grandmom, I noticed the mom was struggling as she carried a large child. Gramdma pushed an empty stroller while this cute, chubby kid gave mom a serious workout.
I stopped carrying my kids when they were about two years old. I am strong, but my kids were big and I am fairly thin. Damn kids are heavy. My ex chose to tote Saunders around even when he was 5 and 6. I discouraged it, for my own health really. When dad wasn't around, Saunders still thought he should be carried. Yeah, NO.
But, to each his own. I thought maybe the kid got tired...oh yeah, he has a stroller. Then I got close enough to pass, and realized 1) this kid was about 2/3rd's the size of mom, quite capable of walking on his own, even if he didn't want to ride in the stroller, and 2) this kid was carrying, and drinking, a diet Mountain Dew.
I'm not even going to get into the whole kids and soda conversation. I just have two words: caffeine and aspartame. Why not just give him a red bull while you're at it?
But, it occurred to me why kids act the way they do in today's society. I mean if my mom carried me around 'til I was 5 years old while I sipped on a mountain dew, why shouldn't you kiss my ass too?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
School drop off and Dangerous Mommies
The last week or so I have been getting back into the groove of school drop off and pick up. High School and Elementary school - and this is not something new for me. I have been taking my daughter to and from school or about a decade now. Juggling an early drop and then the later drop for my son before I even begin my day can be kind of stressful, but in relation to the entire world...not so much.
Last week, I picked up my son and noticed in the parking lot the abundance of cars parked illegally and dangerously, blocking emergency exits, using handicapped spaces, etc. I thought, "what a bunch of inconsiderate people". Early this week, as we drove home from school, one of these working Mom's pulled out of traffic, to the side of the road and whipped her door open, then screamed, "Watch where you're going" to me as I tried to manuever past her open car door. I stopped and looked into the rear view mirror, a tad shocked, while contemplating waving my middle finger at her. I proceeded on, glad that I wasn't such a raging Bitch.
This morning, I pulled to the side of a curb as I approached the school, let my son out, and waited patiently to pull back into the carpool lane of trafic which was growing in front of the school. I noticed a gap in the traffic and before I pulled back into the flow, I noticed in my rear view this screaming Mommy, on her cell phone, waving her hands frantically at me to "get it moving", apparently my concept of safety first in a school zone was taking way too long for her to get her kid out of the car.
To think these women are on their way to or from work, their kids are in the car and can see their madness (and by madness I mean crazy, not anger), and we are talking about driving in school zones, not on the Autobahn.
What in the world is wrong with these bitches?
Last week, I picked up my son and noticed in the parking lot the abundance of cars parked illegally and dangerously, blocking emergency exits, using handicapped spaces, etc. I thought, "what a bunch of inconsiderate people". Early this week, as we drove home from school, one of these working Mom's pulled out of traffic, to the side of the road and whipped her door open, then screamed, "Watch where you're going" to me as I tried to manuever past her open car door. I stopped and looked into the rear view mirror, a tad shocked, while contemplating waving my middle finger at her. I proceeded on, glad that I wasn't such a raging Bitch.
This morning, I pulled to the side of a curb as I approached the school, let my son out, and waited patiently to pull back into the carpool lane of trafic which was growing in front of the school. I noticed a gap in the traffic and before I pulled back into the flow, I noticed in my rear view this screaming Mommy, on her cell phone, waving her hands frantically at me to "get it moving", apparently my concept of safety first in a school zone was taking way too long for her to get her kid out of the car.
To think these women are on their way to or from work, their kids are in the car and can see their madness (and by madness I mean crazy, not anger), and we are talking about driving in school zones, not on the Autobahn.
What in the world is wrong with these bitches?
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Indifference
Synonyms: 1. Indifference, unconcern, listlessness, apathy, insensibility all imply lack of feeling. Indifference denotes an absence of feeling or interest; unconcern, an absence of concern or solicitude, a calm or cool indifference in the face of what might be expected to cause uneasiness or apprehension; listlessness, an absence of inclination or interest, a languid indifference to what is going on about one; apathy, a profound intellectual and emotional indifference suggestive of faculties either naturally sluggish or dulled by emotional disturbance, mental illness, or prolonged sickness; insensibility, an absence of capacity for feeling or of susceptibility to emotional influences. (Dictionary.com)
In working on a collaborative project about the approach to relationship via man and woman, the topic of love/ hate came up. My partner in the project noted, "hate is not the opposite of love, indifference is". I immediately remembered dating a guy in college who told me one night about another girl he had dated briefly. His mom asked him why he treated her so poorly, and he responded, he wasn't treating her poorly, he just wasn't treating her at all. The comment by my friend which jarred this memory from 20 years ago stuck out because even 20 years ago, I realized the impact on any human soul by someone who just doesn't have any emotional connection to the "relationship".
I thought about my own relationships. The past relationships that impacted me when I would still feel passionately about the man; passionately enough to be emotionally traumatized by his indifference. Then I remembered the relationships where I just couldn't care less. Everyone has been on one or both sides of this concept.
Indifference states, in a very proper tone, "I don't give a fuck." We have all seen the Hollywood movies where a couple has fallen out of love and one declares, "I hate you", and the next scene shows the couple making out furiously and declaring how much they love each other. This is the catalyst for most chemistry driven relationships. The passion is defined by the conflict. The conflict is the catalyst for the sexual tension. And we are so stimulus-manipulated up to believe this is healthy.
In watching Duplicity this weekend it occured to me why we enjoy films like this. Outside of the sexy leading characters which Directors use to titilate our senses, we are manipulated into believing relationshps like this might actually work out. Really?
"You think I'm playing you?"
This is not a phrase that should ever be heard in a healthy relationship, yet these two characters end up together...in Rome. Sexy, romantic Italy (preface, in bed for three days earlier in the film). Again, the catalyst for their highly sexually charged relationship relied highly on the duplicitous nature of their relationship.
Had Julia Roberts character been indifferent to Clive Owens character this film would have been boring and less-than-impassioned. Had Clive Owens character been indifferent to Julia Roberts character, the concept would not have worked at all.
Which brings us back to the concept of energy...neither created nor destroyed, exists to contwine us via feelings...emotions... passion. The stuff that makes people want more. And when that energy is transferred? What then?
Indifference?
"I've been you."
In working on a collaborative project about the approach to relationship via man and woman, the topic of love/ hate came up. My partner in the project noted, "hate is not the opposite of love, indifference is". I immediately remembered dating a guy in college who told me one night about another girl he had dated briefly. His mom asked him why he treated her so poorly, and he responded, he wasn't treating her poorly, he just wasn't treating her at all. The comment by my friend which jarred this memory from 20 years ago stuck out because even 20 years ago, I realized the impact on any human soul by someone who just doesn't have any emotional connection to the "relationship".
I thought about my own relationships. The past relationships that impacted me when I would still feel passionately about the man; passionately enough to be emotionally traumatized by his indifference. Then I remembered the relationships where I just couldn't care less. Everyone has been on one or both sides of this concept.
Indifference states, in a very proper tone, "I don't give a fuck." We have all seen the Hollywood movies where a couple has fallen out of love and one declares, "I hate you", and the next scene shows the couple making out furiously and declaring how much they love each other. This is the catalyst for most chemistry driven relationships. The passion is defined by the conflict. The conflict is the catalyst for the sexual tension. And we are so stimulus-manipulated up to believe this is healthy.
In watching Duplicity this weekend it occured to me why we enjoy films like this. Outside of the sexy leading characters which Directors use to titilate our senses, we are manipulated into believing relationshps like this might actually work out. Really?
"You think I'm playing you?"
This is not a phrase that should ever be heard in a healthy relationship, yet these two characters end up together...in Rome. Sexy, romantic Italy (preface, in bed for three days earlier in the film). Again, the catalyst for their highly sexually charged relationship relied highly on the duplicitous nature of their relationship.
Had Julia Roberts character been indifferent to Clive Owens character this film would have been boring and less-than-impassioned. Had Clive Owens character been indifferent to Julia Roberts character, the concept would not have worked at all.
Which brings us back to the concept of energy...neither created nor destroyed, exists to contwine us via feelings...emotions... passion. The stuff that makes people want more. And when that energy is transferred? What then?
Indifference?
"I've been you."
Monday, August 31, 2009
Melting down
I have had a pretty interesting weekend. Lots of ups and downs - generally the normal roller coaster of life. I got to see the effect of balance in full effect.
I have numerous questions floating around in my head. Work related, life choices, relationship stuff - the normal day to day, year to year stuff that keeps us growing and living. What I noticed this week, was an intolerance for my "me time" - my thinking, percolating time so to speak.
We are so conditioned to react to one another, sometimes we just can't BE.
Change is good.
Life is an ever changing module.
We are creative interesting beings that have so much to give back. Yet we spend inordinate amounts of time worrying about random shit. I am guilty of this too. I have wasted hours, days even worrying about things I have no control over. I have tried to focus on relativity to production value, and usually that works. Emotionally, I think it's difficult to focus on pushing past feelings.
I have been overwhelmed with my own shit and even in the midst of my biggest meltdown, I try not to engage other people. This is how I function. I like to think maturity is part of my growth process. It's difficult. It doesn't feel good. But, it strengthens the soul. I tried to put myself in other people's shoes to try and understand how we get so far away from being selfless, and the love we are supposed to share with one another - how do we become so desperate to cling to "stuff" to prove a point. I have been called a martyr in past relationships because I would rather just accept responsibility and let it (an issue) go. Do we need to be right all the time?
My horoscope today read "It's the right day for any power struggles-- you're clear-headed and there is no way that you can lose a fight! Just make sure while you're busy fighting for what you want, you aren't losing focus on the more important things around you. Other people, not power, should be your top priority right now. So only get into it if you have to -- as skilled as you are besting the competition. At heart you're a lover, not a fighter!"
Yes, I am, my friends, yes I am.
My sister reminded me last night that "other people" often are the cause of drama, and self-preservation should be the task at hand. I reminded her that we have been expert self-preservationists our entire lives. I am clear headed today, and the 1st thing I realized was I hate fighting. If it's that important to you - do it. What is there to fight about? Life is short...how did I overlook this the last few weeks? My life is precious. My time is valuable. And you are lucky ;) so lucky.
I woke up with strange energy, cleaned my house...I should say began to "clean house". I feel empowered and rejuvenated.
I am in flux in relationship.
I am trying to change who I am in my day to day to accomodate my new growth spurt.
I also just want to be happy. I want my friends and lover to be happy. As a parent, I believe you learn how to give up your own happiness for others sometimes at the concept of the greater good. I will struggle for as long as it takes if my kids have a better life. I will end a relationship if I see a more wonderful future for someone without me. It isn't about being a martyr, it's about sharing love. And it's hard.
Love is a brilliant tool, and hard to come by, and usually it's when you witness a melt down right before your eyes that you have the opportunity to give all your love selflessly to see a better world. Yes, I want to be happy. Yes, I want to see my friends and family happy. Yes, I want to grow. My choices don't make who I am; they indicate the paths I have chosen, and the growth I have had, and the potential I have coming.
I have numerous questions floating around in my head. Work related, life choices, relationship stuff - the normal day to day, year to year stuff that keeps us growing and living. What I noticed this week, was an intolerance for my "me time" - my thinking, percolating time so to speak.
We are so conditioned to react to one another, sometimes we just can't BE.
Change is good.
Life is an ever changing module.
We are creative interesting beings that have so much to give back. Yet we spend inordinate amounts of time worrying about random shit. I am guilty of this too. I have wasted hours, days even worrying about things I have no control over. I have tried to focus on relativity to production value, and usually that works. Emotionally, I think it's difficult to focus on pushing past feelings.
I have been overwhelmed with my own shit and even in the midst of my biggest meltdown, I try not to engage other people. This is how I function. I like to think maturity is part of my growth process. It's difficult. It doesn't feel good. But, it strengthens the soul. I tried to put myself in other people's shoes to try and understand how we get so far away from being selfless, and the love we are supposed to share with one another - how do we become so desperate to cling to "stuff" to prove a point. I have been called a martyr in past relationships because I would rather just accept responsibility and let it (an issue) go. Do we need to be right all the time?
My horoscope today read "It's the right day for any power struggles-- you're clear-headed and there is no way that you can lose a fight! Just make sure while you're busy fighting for what you want, you aren't losing focus on the more important things around you. Other people, not power, should be your top priority right now. So only get into it if you have to -- as skilled as you are besting the competition. At heart you're a lover, not a fighter!"
Yes, I am, my friends, yes I am.
My sister reminded me last night that "other people" often are the cause of drama, and self-preservation should be the task at hand. I reminded her that we have been expert self-preservationists our entire lives. I am clear headed today, and the 1st thing I realized was I hate fighting. If it's that important to you - do it. What is there to fight about? Life is short...how did I overlook this the last few weeks? My life is precious. My time is valuable. And you are lucky ;) so lucky.
I woke up with strange energy, cleaned my house...I should say began to "clean house". I feel empowered and rejuvenated.
I am in flux in relationship.
I am trying to change who I am in my day to day to accomodate my new growth spurt.
I also just want to be happy. I want my friends and lover to be happy. As a parent, I believe you learn how to give up your own happiness for others sometimes at the concept of the greater good. I will struggle for as long as it takes if my kids have a better life. I will end a relationship if I see a more wonderful future for someone without me. It isn't about being a martyr, it's about sharing love. And it's hard.
Love is a brilliant tool, and hard to come by, and usually it's when you witness a melt down right before your eyes that you have the opportunity to give all your love selflessly to see a better world. Yes, I want to be happy. Yes, I want to see my friends and family happy. Yes, I want to grow. My choices don't make who I am; they indicate the paths I have chosen, and the growth I have had, and the potential I have coming.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Any publicity is good publicity, but free publicity is even better~
I received an interesting link via Twitter 2 days ago which linked me to a blog regarding criminal activity/domestic violence. Upon reading this blog I realized A) the blog was a personal dissertation on someone's ex-husband, alleged criminal and deadbeat, and B) the writer of the blog had linked my social web sites to her ex-husband as a "recent romantic interest".
Interestingly enough, although briefly acquainted with the blog writers ex-husband, I have had no romantic link to this man at all. To my knowledge he lives 2000 miles from me, and I'm not even clear on how I am a subject matter at all in this drama. After reading the story of Mary T. McKnight of Kissimmee, Fla. I extended my sympathy for her misfortune and explained that I don't know her ex that well, have never dated him, and the information pertaining to me on her blog is innaccurate at best. I then contacted my sister, who is a slammin' lawyer (if you don't know, now you know) who proceeded to file action against the slander/ libelous remarks and forwarded said letter to Ms. McKnight.
Now, those of you who know me personally, know I am not a fan of celebrity propaganda. I do not read trash mags. I "don't believe the hype", to say the least, BUT, I DO live by the Samantha Jones PR philosophy, "Any publicity is good publicity". So, a formal thank you to Mary T.
McKnight who has posted my blog info, FB contact and Twitter contact info on her blog as well!
I'm not famous but people talk about me like I am~
Interestingly enough, although briefly acquainted with the blog writers ex-husband, I have had no romantic link to this man at all. To my knowledge he lives 2000 miles from me, and I'm not even clear on how I am a subject matter at all in this drama. After reading the story of Mary T. McKnight of Kissimmee, Fla. I extended my sympathy for her misfortune and explained that I don't know her ex that well, have never dated him, and the information pertaining to me on her blog is innaccurate at best. I then contacted my sister, who is a slammin' lawyer (if you don't know, now you know) who proceeded to file action against the slander/ libelous remarks and forwarded said letter to Ms. McKnight.
Now, those of you who know me personally, know I am not a fan of celebrity propaganda. I do not read trash mags. I "don't believe the hype", to say the least, BUT, I DO live by the Samantha Jones PR philosophy, "Any publicity is good publicity". So, a formal thank you to Mary T.
McKnight who has posted my blog info, FB contact and Twitter contact info on her blog as well!I'm not famous but people talk about me like I am~
Thursday, August 13, 2009
8 Minute Workout - an original short story
I woke up this morning with good intentions. Isn’t that always how it works? Good intentions. The alarm rang at 6:40 which gave me 40 minutes to work out in my loft with the new equipment I bought with good intentions. I researched online; I found the least expensive, quality equipment which I believed would give me the best workout ever. I wanted to buy the ProCor equipment, but it was out of my price range now that I was under employed and out of money. I wanted to look forward to 40 solid minutes of riding, or air walking, or stair-stepping my way to a better body; (and by all standards of American society) a better me.
Bigger tits, tighter hips;
smaller ass, fuller lips.
The reality was, I was still pissed that I could no longer afford what I wanted.
I spent the last 10 years doing what everyone told me was the right thing to do. I went to school every day. I worked hard. I got into a great college. I graduated and got a job in my field directly after the summer I traveled Europe to enlighten myself spiritually and learn about other cultures. I did charity work and truly believed in the system. Then I walked into my office one morning, like I always did; with coffee for my boss and a big-ass, greasy smile, happy to bust ass for ten to twelve hours that day because I was single and didn’t have the excuse of leaving promptly at five to pick up my kids. On my desk that morning was a note to come into the Director’s office. I was the Director’s Assistant, so realistically speaking, I should have typed up that note, but obviously I hadn’t. I put my blazer back on and set my coffee on the desk. I walked into my boss’s office to find her and the Assistant Director having a severe discussion over her huge, Texas sized desk. Her desk only stood out as so huge, because she was so tiny. Standing at about four feet eleven inches, I was sure if she laid down on the desk, from end to end, it would be at least one inch above and below her person.
I excused myself into the room and the Director motioned for me to sit down. There had been rumors of a transition coming soon, but everyone had brushed it off, “Even when that does happen, this office will not be affected directly. It will take years to change all the primary affected areas. There are too many principals in this geographic area.” And so on.
Today the principals must have been a bit more expendable. The Director pointed at my seat as I somehow still hadn’t found it. I sat down and prepared myself for the axe. What she said, draped in a coat of corporate b.s., was that due to the preeminent merger, our offices in Denver were being closed and all our positions moved to Houston, Texas. I didn’t hear much of what she said after that because I don’t do Texas. I knew my single life was not going to get any better in a state that was so proud to have the biggest everything. I was certain that for me that would mean the biggest ass, the biggest ego, and the biggest hair. Not so hot. To quote some brilliant superhero, my work here was done.
The reality for me; I loved my job, but not enough to move. I loved my personality and my city more. I loved the mountains. I loved skiing. I loved that I could walk from my job to my loft and to any Happy Hour within a 2 mile radius, and I could take the 16th Street Mall bus home if I needed to. My life was simple and I liked it that way.
This day changed my outlook. It didn’t matter that I took every right step to get here. It didn’t matter that I did everything right on the road to my career success. It simply didn’t matter because one guy, and a panel of his peers, decided my fate in a merger of equals. Move to Texas or your career here is over. Now the only thing I had control over was my stuff; my body, my mind, my hair, my breath. Through my actions I could take back a little bit of me every day. I controlled my workout, and if I didn’t feel like it I didn’t have to. But if I woke up with a second ass because I chose not to work out (and eat those extra helpings of mashed potatoes with butter and garlic that I loved so much), that was on me too. Maintaining control – that was my job now.
I wake up with overwhelming feelings of desire for the perfect body and the perfect smile, as if this would get my career back. These unrealistic requirements floating through my conscious being before I even smell my morning coffee…
Every
Single
Friggin'
Morning.
I looked forward to the morning when I could acknowledge the daylight sun before the words started coursing though my head – Just 40 minutes right now, an hour tomorrow. Just 100 sit ups right now – if you can just get out of bed. Turn on the fitness channel – you don’t have to go up to the loft yet. Just watch some other people exercise. You will be inspired. It’s too cold to work out. If it wasn’t so cold I’d be running right now. The clock reads 6:46. You’ve wasted 6 minutes thinking about bullshit. Get your uninspired, lazy ass out of this bed. I longed for the day I didn’t open my eyes and immediately touch my midsection. It always feels good to squeeze the middle section between the belly button and the hairline. It reminds me I’m not perfect. Everyone has imperfections. Compared to most, at least in this country, I have a great body. For my age and height, according to the American perception of what is acceptable for body fat, I’m just fine. The day I didn’t feel the compulsive need to touch it though, that would be a great day. When I didn’t have to prove to myself my imperfections made me lovable.
I hate when people tell me, “you have a great body for someone your age” – that’s too much like, “you’re the prettiest Black girl I know.” My high school days were filled with comments like this. Today, my initial response to these comments isn’t always so pleasant. Screw you! Bullshit superior fascists. Who told these self-appointed, commentators of life it is ok to classify, stereotype, and actually speak aloud – spewing vile, ignorant statements within earshot of other human beings? My favorite judges are the old men with short legs and pot bellies that hang over their tiny, shrunken, wanna-be penises that say, “Have you ever thought about getting your tits done?” Why yes, I think about it every single day I have to look past the perfectly fine tits I do have and can still see I’m getting less than five inches from you. At least if my tits were bigger, my view would be blocked, and I could fantasize about any one of my well-hung ex’s while rubbing myself to get off. Rubbing myself, only because I know in the back of my mind that time is limited before you pull out and I am left with nothing except the memory of you telling me that my tits are inadequate… even for you.
6 minutes have now passed and I’m still in bed. I reach under my head in search of the cool side of the pillow. I never felt the need to linger in bed until I started having sex. When I was in college I leapt from bed. I was super happy to be alive; happy to have awakened (away from home), without my parents asking me if I’ve had breakfast yet. I didn’t have to eat breakfast. No one cared. Thus, I did. One of the most important things I learned in college was no one cared what you did. If you didn’t show up for class, eventually you would get sent home, and then someone might care, but would the university? Nope, they had your money. If you developed anorexia, would anyone notice? Not unless you stopped paying your food bill or you ended up in Student Health and couldn’t pay for the over-apparent diagnosis. It all came down to the dollar. Did you have it or not? The almighty dollar; so important in the world and I knew nothing about it until I got to a place where that’s all anyone cared about. This is where I learned to appreciate our currency. Up until then my parents and grandparents made it so I never had to think about the dollar. It just was. I didn’t have to get up to worry about earning one.
Now, I felt the cool side of the pillow and once again realized I had no reason to get up. I wasn’t getting laid, and I had no purpose today, except to keep my body healthy and sexy. Healthy and sexy – that seemed like a blatant example everything that was wrong in our world. How could healthy be compared to sexy when sexy was stick-thin, in panties on the cover of a magazine? Healthy was apples and broccoli for kids who had nothing to eat. As thin as they were, the visual of a small child who had nothing but a grain of rice, but needed an apple, looked the farthest from sexy. Six feet tall with ribs showing, strapped in a lacy, black push-up and a thong vs. four feet tall with ribs showing in a pair of dirty underwear covered in flies. What’s healthy? Or sexy?
I rolled over - 9 minutes have passed and as the clock ticks I think about my day. One more job interview after 50 resumes that week. This had been my routine for 4 months now. I spent day after day networking, sending out resumes, and trying to set up meetings. Impressing people with my college education, I thought. Week after week went by with one interview here and there. The pillow was getting warm again. Reality was becoming clearer and clearer.
The phone rang. Who the hell calls anyone before 7 a.m.? It is an unidentified number so I don’t answer. It is now halfway feasible to get out of bed. Apparently other people are awake and somehow they know I am awake, so I must get out of bed to justify why I woke up so early. You had to have that third glass of wine. Today I will stop drinking. Well, I will stop drinking during the week. I will stop drinking more than one glass of wine with dinner. That’s it – one or two glasses of wine with dinner and that’s it - except for the weekends.
As I walk into the kitchen and start water for coffee I turn on the fitness channel. Tight little birds with great asses and perfect tits – I despise them and their early morning energy. If I was on an island in the Caribbean with a purr-fect little body, I might have the energy to jump up and down in the sand while smiling and never breaking a sweat. Not likely. Every time I have been on a sandy beach with a smile on my face it wasn’t because I woke up at the crack of dark to work out. More than likely, it was because I didn’t have to wake up until after 10 a.m. and my hangover from the ten glasses of sangria the night before was quickly relieved with a mid-morning Bloody Mary followed by a tall, cold foreign beer. Yes, and even better while lying on this heavenly beach, my smile grows as I still feel the throbbing between my legs from the hot vacation sex which lasted until 5 a.m. Yes, and now I can sleep peacefully knowing it will happen all over again when this sizzling, natural sun, which browns my body like French Toast with honey, sets again. Encore. Two more minutes have passed.
I turn on the water and walk back into my room where my equipment waits patiently. I can see the stair-stepper, shiny with new shocks, twinkle at me just wanting me to step on. If I step on once I will have to keep stepping. One step is all I need to get it going. The treadmill is folded up, as it has been since the day I brought it home. I unfolded it once to make sure it would fit into my room, then placed it gently up against the wall where I could look at it admiringly and think about all the great workouts I would have in the future. Always in the future. I love to run outdoors and it is subsequently disappointing to have to run indoors because of the cold air or the altitude – whatever my excuse is for not running outside in the winter. Alas, there sat the elliptical bike – this bike I have ridden one time and decided it was too boring to maintain my attention. I initially thought I would be able to read books and magazines as I rode, and even transported my Health and Fitness magazines up to the loft where this would be more feasible for me to remember to read while I worked out. Bring some enjoyment to my workout, or at least inspire myself with the hot bodies of other women who seemed to find the time to work out every day, and their bodies showed it. I could do it – I just needed motivation.
12 minutes have passed and I was still wandering around my condo looking for a reason not to work out. The water was boiling and I needed to pour my coffee, or maybe I’d have tea today – yes a chai latte, then I could save the $4 I usually spend every morning at Starbucks. This is why I bought the tea, so I could save some money. Then it became an issue wherein I reminded myself that I made enough money now to splurge on coffee and tea, so why shouldn’t I? Because it’s ridiculous, I tell myself again. I bought an entire box of Chai tea for $2.50, that’s about 10 or 12 servings, with non-fat milk that adds about $3 for a months worth of servings. Now it has become an issue of principle.
I opened up my laptop and ventured into my old routine. I signed into Instant Messenger, and then checked my emails and bank account. I then checked Facebook which was my favorite new addiction. Every since my roommates, the flight attendants that I lived with 2 years ago got me into this website; I couldn’t help logging on every day. I checked their pages for new information and pictures. It was a fabulous way for us to keep in touch without spending money on phone calls and travel. We could drop each other one-line notes without the hassle of an entire email. We have conned ourselves into believing that you aren’t always able think of enough things to say to require an entire email message and eventually figure it isn’t worth the effort of writing an email at all. One more depiction of where society has taken us. From visiting each other on Sundays, to horse drawn letter carriers, to email letters and forwarding news (and jokes) to the convenience of a single “comment”; it was the trendy new hotness. I loved the fact that I could pull up my friends site and toss a one liner on their front page which let them know I was thinking of them; kept them up to date on what I was up to, yet at the same time made me always unattainable; as everyone is in this world today, as we are all so damned busy.
Now that 15 minutes had passed and I realized the 25 minute workout I might get would, at most, be sub-standard, but it was better than nothing, I tossed on some shorts and a t-shirt. I then poured my tea and moved towards my CD collection. I needed some inspirational music to get me going; anything with a beat. I needed to buy one of those pre-made compilation tapes with 15 different songs all smoothed together to make the best workout tape ever. Maybe I should go online and sign up for one of those online music sites where I could download as many songs as possible and put them in a file strictly for workouts.
Note to self: find better workout music this week.
Young Jeezy or Fifty Cent – these are my options today. Bitches and Ho’s, money money money money. I have only recently started to pay attention to the words of these songs. I hear them over and over on the radio and in clubs. Usually so distracted with traffic… or a phone call… or getting a drink at the bar… or screaming over the music at my friends, I never really pay attention to the words. While working out I’ve become bored with the repetition of the movement, I start to listen to the lyrics and I begin to wonder…are these stories true? How much gangbanging and pimp-slappin’-a-bitch is really going on? Or are these just the grimy stories we need to hear to make the beat believable? Hip Hop had accomplished for music what the bad boy illusion had destroyed for good men. A rap sheet is not attractive. Yet, somehow we have duped ourselves, as a generation, into believing that overcoming a hard life, and having street cred(ibility) is equivalent to good music. Artists like Kurt Cobain tried this in the eighties with Grunge music, but being dirty isn’t very hot. Hip Hop artists got it right when they added champagne dreams and bling. The new formula for sexy seemed to be Bad Boys plus money – now this is what women like. Bad Boys have always had an appeal to women. From James Dean to Sean Combs, the concept of getting an unattainable man is what seemed dangerous yet so appealing. Women know they can’t change a man, but their egos won’t let them believe that this actually applies to them personally. The sizzle factor comes with believing that you are hot enough, smart enough, and sexy enough that even the most unattainable, aloof criminal could be yours. He represents the cool guy in school. He might as well be gay – that’s how unattainable this man is. To top it all off, we women actually have visions of changing them into suburban fathers and husbands. Yes, this is what’s tempting. What is wrong with us? Rap is the same notion. Bad Boys. To this I give credit to P. Daddy, Puff Diddy, whatever he’s calling himself these days. He’s hot. He represents a smooth businessman, but with Street Cred. He has built an empire on what’s appealing to women, to America. Talk about the dream.
I subliminally remind myself that I still have 20 minutes to “Bigger tits, tighter hips; smaller ass, fuller lips”.
20 minutes until I absolutely had to get ready for work. What if I went in a half hour late today? No one would probably even notice. I could stand to lose the extra money. For my health, yes, my mental health. I have to run to keep my head on straight. If I don’t work out I will go nuts. Me time is always valuable. My tea is getting cold. I wonder what the weather will be today. It looks kind of chilly. I’d love to wear a strapless dress today with a hot little sweater over it. I’ll just check the weather real quick on Good morning a.m. or whatever morning show has the tickertape weather running. Here was yet another indicator of the pace of our society. We can’t even sit down for a five minute weather report. We need a running ticker tape that we can peek up at while we talk on the phone, as we dress, and stuff our pie-holes in an attempt to squeeze in as much personal daily commitment into the smallest amount of time before being required to jet off to, no personal phone call, no personal email, no personal remnants of unique personality land. Eight to ten hours a day - pretending that the 9 to 5 is the only real thing in anyone’s life.
Traffic alert – good thing I turned on the TV, I wouldn’t have known to take Happy Canyon Road instead of the freeway today. Whew. 15 minutes until I have to jump in the shower. Maybe I could just do some squats right here in front of the television. One Two.. Damn, that kind of hurts. I need to stretch. Yeah, a good stretch is what I need. Just breathe in, breathe out. Stretch. Then I can do some squats. Or at least some sit ups while I’m down here. I have time for a hundred crunches. Then I’ll get up and do some squats.
The alarm on my cell phone reminds me that today I must meet with my mentor for lunch today to talk about his manuscript. I can’t wait to read it. He has been talking about writing again for the three years that I’ve known him and now he has a new book. I can barely wait. I love reading the work of my friends, not necessarily because I know it will be brilliant, but because they trust me to read it. But, this I know will be brilliant. There is a missed call and a voice message. I will just listen to this quickly before I get back on the floor and resume my workout.
My local movie rental company calls to remind me that I have a movie which has not been returned and in order to avoid being charged for the film, they would like to give me a couple more days to return it. How sweet. What movie? I forgot I rented a movie. Now I have to search for this movie before I get dressed so I don’t forget to take it with me to work. Oh, wait, I took this movie out to the car a couple days ago. It must be on the car. I will look when I leave for work. Note to self, if movie is not in car, find by tomorrow to return immediately.
12 minutes and counting – why bother? How about jumping rope? Jumping rope burns about 600 calories an hour, so I should be able to knock out 12 minutes and still burn about 150 calories. I’ll jump rope 12 minutes now and run for a half hour after work. I’ll still get 45 minutes of exercise in and that will be plenty. Tomorrow I’ll start all over. Where was my jump rope? If it was in the loft I can rotate between jumping rope and biking – that should make the biking part less boring. I will only do it for two to five minutes then I’ll switch back to the jump rope.
I ran towards the loft stairs and as I jumped on the second stair, eager now to get my 12 minutes of exercise in, I stubbed my toe on the stair and caught my big toe nail on the edge. “Faack ME!”
What else? I grabbed my toe and afraid to look at it because the pain was so intense, I hopped on one foot holding my toe tightly preventing any massive loss of blood which may have been imminent. I sat on the corner of my bed grimacing and holding, still terrified to look. Would my toenail fall off? This was one of my biggest fears. The chick without a nail on her big toe. I know there are worse things out there – being blind, deaf, dumb, but losing a big toenail seemed so devastating because it was so gross, and perhaps preventable. People had sympathy for those who were born or tragically afflicted with blindness or something as serious. A missing big toe nail with that gross, bumpy pink skin showing, which was usually hidden by the big toe nail, was neither anything that would invoke sympathy or something considered catastrophic. It was simply gross. At most it produced a feeling of stupidity for the imbecile who was dumb enough to do whatever it took to lose their big toe nail. That was me right now. The pain was starting to subside so I peeked slowly under my hand as I showed myself the toe. The nail was still there. The toe was beginning to purple under the nail, but it was still there. Thank God.
9 minutes and counting.
I went down to my car with my mental note at the forefront of my headspace, and looked quickly for my overdue video which had been tossed into the back seat. I reached to pick it up as I tossed my jacket and I could have thrown up as the title of the video stared my straight in the face. The title, “8 minutes to a perfect you” laughed at me as I started my car. So, I threw it back in the rear of the car where I would forget about it again for at least 24 more hours.
Bigger tits, tighter hips;
smaller ass, fuller lips.
The reality was, I was still pissed that I could no longer afford what I wanted.
I spent the last 10 years doing what everyone told me was the right thing to do. I went to school every day. I worked hard. I got into a great college. I graduated and got a job in my field directly after the summer I traveled Europe to enlighten myself spiritually and learn about other cultures. I did charity work and truly believed in the system. Then I walked into my office one morning, like I always did; with coffee for my boss and a big-ass, greasy smile, happy to bust ass for ten to twelve hours that day because I was single and didn’t have the excuse of leaving promptly at five to pick up my kids. On my desk that morning was a note to come into the Director’s office. I was the Director’s Assistant, so realistically speaking, I should have typed up that note, but obviously I hadn’t. I put my blazer back on and set my coffee on the desk. I walked into my boss’s office to find her and the Assistant Director having a severe discussion over her huge, Texas sized desk. Her desk only stood out as so huge, because she was so tiny. Standing at about four feet eleven inches, I was sure if she laid down on the desk, from end to end, it would be at least one inch above and below her person.
I excused myself into the room and the Director motioned for me to sit down. There had been rumors of a transition coming soon, but everyone had brushed it off, “Even when that does happen, this office will not be affected directly. It will take years to change all the primary affected areas. There are too many principals in this geographic area.” And so on.
Today the principals must have been a bit more expendable. The Director pointed at my seat as I somehow still hadn’t found it. I sat down and prepared myself for the axe. What she said, draped in a coat of corporate b.s., was that due to the preeminent merger, our offices in Denver were being closed and all our positions moved to Houston, Texas. I didn’t hear much of what she said after that because I don’t do Texas. I knew my single life was not going to get any better in a state that was so proud to have the biggest everything. I was certain that for me that would mean the biggest ass, the biggest ego, and the biggest hair. Not so hot. To quote some brilliant superhero, my work here was done.
The reality for me; I loved my job, but not enough to move. I loved my personality and my city more. I loved the mountains. I loved skiing. I loved that I could walk from my job to my loft and to any Happy Hour within a 2 mile radius, and I could take the 16th Street Mall bus home if I needed to. My life was simple and I liked it that way.
This day changed my outlook. It didn’t matter that I took every right step to get here. It didn’t matter that I did everything right on the road to my career success. It simply didn’t matter because one guy, and a panel of his peers, decided my fate in a merger of equals. Move to Texas or your career here is over. Now the only thing I had control over was my stuff; my body, my mind, my hair, my breath. Through my actions I could take back a little bit of me every day. I controlled my workout, and if I didn’t feel like it I didn’t have to. But if I woke up with a second ass because I chose not to work out (and eat those extra helpings of mashed potatoes with butter and garlic that I loved so much), that was on me too. Maintaining control – that was my job now.
I wake up with overwhelming feelings of desire for the perfect body and the perfect smile, as if this would get my career back. These unrealistic requirements floating through my conscious being before I even smell my morning coffee…
Every
Single
Friggin'
Morning.
I looked forward to the morning when I could acknowledge the daylight sun before the words started coursing though my head – Just 40 minutes right now, an hour tomorrow. Just 100 sit ups right now – if you can just get out of bed. Turn on the fitness channel – you don’t have to go up to the loft yet. Just watch some other people exercise. You will be inspired. It’s too cold to work out. If it wasn’t so cold I’d be running right now. The clock reads 6:46. You’ve wasted 6 minutes thinking about bullshit. Get your uninspired, lazy ass out of this bed. I longed for the day I didn’t open my eyes and immediately touch my midsection. It always feels good to squeeze the middle section between the belly button and the hairline. It reminds me I’m not perfect. Everyone has imperfections. Compared to most, at least in this country, I have a great body. For my age and height, according to the American perception of what is acceptable for body fat, I’m just fine. The day I didn’t feel the compulsive need to touch it though, that would be a great day. When I didn’t have to prove to myself my imperfections made me lovable.
I hate when people tell me, “you have a great body for someone your age” – that’s too much like, “you’re the prettiest Black girl I know.” My high school days were filled with comments like this. Today, my initial response to these comments isn’t always so pleasant. Screw you! Bullshit superior fascists. Who told these self-appointed, commentators of life it is ok to classify, stereotype, and actually speak aloud – spewing vile, ignorant statements within earshot of other human beings? My favorite judges are the old men with short legs and pot bellies that hang over their tiny, shrunken, wanna-be penises that say, “Have you ever thought about getting your tits done?” Why yes, I think about it every single day I have to look past the perfectly fine tits I do have and can still see I’m getting less than five inches from you. At least if my tits were bigger, my view would be blocked, and I could fantasize about any one of my well-hung ex’s while rubbing myself to get off. Rubbing myself, only because I know in the back of my mind that time is limited before you pull out and I am left with nothing except the memory of you telling me that my tits are inadequate… even for you.
6 minutes have now passed and I’m still in bed. I reach under my head in search of the cool side of the pillow. I never felt the need to linger in bed until I started having sex. When I was in college I leapt from bed. I was super happy to be alive; happy to have awakened (away from home), without my parents asking me if I’ve had breakfast yet. I didn’t have to eat breakfast. No one cared. Thus, I did. One of the most important things I learned in college was no one cared what you did. If you didn’t show up for class, eventually you would get sent home, and then someone might care, but would the university? Nope, they had your money. If you developed anorexia, would anyone notice? Not unless you stopped paying your food bill or you ended up in Student Health and couldn’t pay for the over-apparent diagnosis. It all came down to the dollar. Did you have it or not? The almighty dollar; so important in the world and I knew nothing about it until I got to a place where that’s all anyone cared about. This is where I learned to appreciate our currency. Up until then my parents and grandparents made it so I never had to think about the dollar. It just was. I didn’t have to get up to worry about earning one.
Now, I felt the cool side of the pillow and once again realized I had no reason to get up. I wasn’t getting laid, and I had no purpose today, except to keep my body healthy and sexy. Healthy and sexy – that seemed like a blatant example everything that was wrong in our world. How could healthy be compared to sexy when sexy was stick-thin, in panties on the cover of a magazine? Healthy was apples and broccoli for kids who had nothing to eat. As thin as they were, the visual of a small child who had nothing but a grain of rice, but needed an apple, looked the farthest from sexy. Six feet tall with ribs showing, strapped in a lacy, black push-up and a thong vs. four feet tall with ribs showing in a pair of dirty underwear covered in flies. What’s healthy? Or sexy?
I rolled over - 9 minutes have passed and as the clock ticks I think about my day. One more job interview after 50 resumes that week. This had been my routine for 4 months now. I spent day after day networking, sending out resumes, and trying to set up meetings. Impressing people with my college education, I thought. Week after week went by with one interview here and there. The pillow was getting warm again. Reality was becoming clearer and clearer.
The phone rang. Who the hell calls anyone before 7 a.m.? It is an unidentified number so I don’t answer. It is now halfway feasible to get out of bed. Apparently other people are awake and somehow they know I am awake, so I must get out of bed to justify why I woke up so early. You had to have that third glass of wine. Today I will stop drinking. Well, I will stop drinking during the week. I will stop drinking more than one glass of wine with dinner. That’s it – one or two glasses of wine with dinner and that’s it - except for the weekends.
As I walk into the kitchen and start water for coffee I turn on the fitness channel. Tight little birds with great asses and perfect tits – I despise them and their early morning energy. If I was on an island in the Caribbean with a purr-fect little body, I might have the energy to jump up and down in the sand while smiling and never breaking a sweat. Not likely. Every time I have been on a sandy beach with a smile on my face it wasn’t because I woke up at the crack of dark to work out. More than likely, it was because I didn’t have to wake up until after 10 a.m. and my hangover from the ten glasses of sangria the night before was quickly relieved with a mid-morning Bloody Mary followed by a tall, cold foreign beer. Yes, and even better while lying on this heavenly beach, my smile grows as I still feel the throbbing between my legs from the hot vacation sex which lasted until 5 a.m. Yes, and now I can sleep peacefully knowing it will happen all over again when this sizzling, natural sun, which browns my body like French Toast with honey, sets again. Encore. Two more minutes have passed.
I turn on the water and walk back into my room where my equipment waits patiently. I can see the stair-stepper, shiny with new shocks, twinkle at me just wanting me to step on. If I step on once I will have to keep stepping. One step is all I need to get it going. The treadmill is folded up, as it has been since the day I brought it home. I unfolded it once to make sure it would fit into my room, then placed it gently up against the wall where I could look at it admiringly and think about all the great workouts I would have in the future. Always in the future. I love to run outdoors and it is subsequently disappointing to have to run indoors because of the cold air or the altitude – whatever my excuse is for not running outside in the winter. Alas, there sat the elliptical bike – this bike I have ridden one time and decided it was too boring to maintain my attention. I initially thought I would be able to read books and magazines as I rode, and even transported my Health and Fitness magazines up to the loft where this would be more feasible for me to remember to read while I worked out. Bring some enjoyment to my workout, or at least inspire myself with the hot bodies of other women who seemed to find the time to work out every day, and their bodies showed it. I could do it – I just needed motivation.
12 minutes have passed and I was still wandering around my condo looking for a reason not to work out. The water was boiling and I needed to pour my coffee, or maybe I’d have tea today – yes a chai latte, then I could save the $4 I usually spend every morning at Starbucks. This is why I bought the tea, so I could save some money. Then it became an issue wherein I reminded myself that I made enough money now to splurge on coffee and tea, so why shouldn’t I? Because it’s ridiculous, I tell myself again. I bought an entire box of Chai tea for $2.50, that’s about 10 or 12 servings, with non-fat milk that adds about $3 for a months worth of servings. Now it has become an issue of principle.
I opened up my laptop and ventured into my old routine. I signed into Instant Messenger, and then checked my emails and bank account. I then checked Facebook which was my favorite new addiction. Every since my roommates, the flight attendants that I lived with 2 years ago got me into this website; I couldn’t help logging on every day. I checked their pages for new information and pictures. It was a fabulous way for us to keep in touch without spending money on phone calls and travel. We could drop each other one-line notes without the hassle of an entire email. We have conned ourselves into believing that you aren’t always able think of enough things to say to require an entire email message and eventually figure it isn’t worth the effort of writing an email at all. One more depiction of where society has taken us. From visiting each other on Sundays, to horse drawn letter carriers, to email letters and forwarding news (and jokes) to the convenience of a single “comment”; it was the trendy new hotness. I loved the fact that I could pull up my friends site and toss a one liner on their front page which let them know I was thinking of them; kept them up to date on what I was up to, yet at the same time made me always unattainable; as everyone is in this world today, as we are all so damned busy.
Now that 15 minutes had passed and I realized the 25 minute workout I might get would, at most, be sub-standard, but it was better than nothing, I tossed on some shorts and a t-shirt. I then poured my tea and moved towards my CD collection. I needed some inspirational music to get me going; anything with a beat. I needed to buy one of those pre-made compilation tapes with 15 different songs all smoothed together to make the best workout tape ever. Maybe I should go online and sign up for one of those online music sites where I could download as many songs as possible and put them in a file strictly for workouts.
Note to self: find better workout music this week.
Young Jeezy or Fifty Cent – these are my options today. Bitches and Ho’s, money money money money. I have only recently started to pay attention to the words of these songs. I hear them over and over on the radio and in clubs. Usually so distracted with traffic… or a phone call… or getting a drink at the bar… or screaming over the music at my friends, I never really pay attention to the words. While working out I’ve become bored with the repetition of the movement, I start to listen to the lyrics and I begin to wonder…are these stories true? How much gangbanging and pimp-slappin’-a-bitch is really going on? Or are these just the grimy stories we need to hear to make the beat believable? Hip Hop had accomplished for music what the bad boy illusion had destroyed for good men. A rap sheet is not attractive. Yet, somehow we have duped ourselves, as a generation, into believing that overcoming a hard life, and having street cred(ibility) is equivalent to good music. Artists like Kurt Cobain tried this in the eighties with Grunge music, but being dirty isn’t very hot. Hip Hop artists got it right when they added champagne dreams and bling. The new formula for sexy seemed to be Bad Boys plus money – now this is what women like. Bad Boys have always had an appeal to women. From James Dean to Sean Combs, the concept of getting an unattainable man is what seemed dangerous yet so appealing. Women know they can’t change a man, but their egos won’t let them believe that this actually applies to them personally. The sizzle factor comes with believing that you are hot enough, smart enough, and sexy enough that even the most unattainable, aloof criminal could be yours. He represents the cool guy in school. He might as well be gay – that’s how unattainable this man is. To top it all off, we women actually have visions of changing them into suburban fathers and husbands. Yes, this is what’s tempting. What is wrong with us? Rap is the same notion. Bad Boys. To this I give credit to P. Daddy, Puff Diddy, whatever he’s calling himself these days. He’s hot. He represents a smooth businessman, but with Street Cred. He has built an empire on what’s appealing to women, to America. Talk about the dream.
I subliminally remind myself that I still have 20 minutes to “Bigger tits, tighter hips; smaller ass, fuller lips”.
20 minutes until I absolutely had to get ready for work. What if I went in a half hour late today? No one would probably even notice. I could stand to lose the extra money. For my health, yes, my mental health. I have to run to keep my head on straight. If I don’t work out I will go nuts. Me time is always valuable. My tea is getting cold. I wonder what the weather will be today. It looks kind of chilly. I’d love to wear a strapless dress today with a hot little sweater over it. I’ll just check the weather real quick on Good morning a.m. or whatever morning show has the tickertape weather running. Here was yet another indicator of the pace of our society. We can’t even sit down for a five minute weather report. We need a running ticker tape that we can peek up at while we talk on the phone, as we dress, and stuff our pie-holes in an attempt to squeeze in as much personal daily commitment into the smallest amount of time before being required to jet off to, no personal phone call, no personal email, no personal remnants of unique personality land. Eight to ten hours a day - pretending that the 9 to 5 is the only real thing in anyone’s life.
Traffic alert – good thing I turned on the TV, I wouldn’t have known to take Happy Canyon Road instead of the freeway today. Whew. 15 minutes until I have to jump in the shower. Maybe I could just do some squats right here in front of the television. One Two.. Damn, that kind of hurts. I need to stretch. Yeah, a good stretch is what I need. Just breathe in, breathe out. Stretch. Then I can do some squats. Or at least some sit ups while I’m down here. I have time for a hundred crunches. Then I’ll get up and do some squats.
The alarm on my cell phone reminds me that today I must meet with my mentor for lunch today to talk about his manuscript. I can’t wait to read it. He has been talking about writing again for the three years that I’ve known him and now he has a new book. I can barely wait. I love reading the work of my friends, not necessarily because I know it will be brilliant, but because they trust me to read it. But, this I know will be brilliant. There is a missed call and a voice message. I will just listen to this quickly before I get back on the floor and resume my workout.
My local movie rental company calls to remind me that I have a movie which has not been returned and in order to avoid being charged for the film, they would like to give me a couple more days to return it. How sweet. What movie? I forgot I rented a movie. Now I have to search for this movie before I get dressed so I don’t forget to take it with me to work. Oh, wait, I took this movie out to the car a couple days ago. It must be on the car. I will look when I leave for work. Note to self, if movie is not in car, find by tomorrow to return immediately.
12 minutes and counting – why bother? How about jumping rope? Jumping rope burns about 600 calories an hour, so I should be able to knock out 12 minutes and still burn about 150 calories. I’ll jump rope 12 minutes now and run for a half hour after work. I’ll still get 45 minutes of exercise in and that will be plenty. Tomorrow I’ll start all over. Where was my jump rope? If it was in the loft I can rotate between jumping rope and biking – that should make the biking part less boring. I will only do it for two to five minutes then I’ll switch back to the jump rope.
I ran towards the loft stairs and as I jumped on the second stair, eager now to get my 12 minutes of exercise in, I stubbed my toe on the stair and caught my big toe nail on the edge. “Faack ME!”
What else? I grabbed my toe and afraid to look at it because the pain was so intense, I hopped on one foot holding my toe tightly preventing any massive loss of blood which may have been imminent. I sat on the corner of my bed grimacing and holding, still terrified to look. Would my toenail fall off? This was one of my biggest fears. The chick without a nail on her big toe. I know there are worse things out there – being blind, deaf, dumb, but losing a big toenail seemed so devastating because it was so gross, and perhaps preventable. People had sympathy for those who were born or tragically afflicted with blindness or something as serious. A missing big toe nail with that gross, bumpy pink skin showing, which was usually hidden by the big toe nail, was neither anything that would invoke sympathy or something considered catastrophic. It was simply gross. At most it produced a feeling of stupidity for the imbecile who was dumb enough to do whatever it took to lose their big toe nail. That was me right now. The pain was starting to subside so I peeked slowly under my hand as I showed myself the toe. The nail was still there. The toe was beginning to purple under the nail, but it was still there. Thank God.
9 minutes and counting.
I went down to my car with my mental note at the forefront of my headspace, and looked quickly for my overdue video which had been tossed into the back seat. I reached to pick it up as I tossed my jacket and I could have thrown up as the title of the video stared my straight in the face. The title, “8 minutes to a perfect you” laughed at me as I started my car. So, I threw it back in the rear of the car where I would forget about it again for at least 24 more hours.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Interviewing
I played a game this weekend called "Apples to Apples". I had no idea how to play it, had never even heard of it before, yet after this game, I knew this game was to be a staple in my household. It's funny and inventive - the premise being a verb or adjective is pulled from a stack of cards and each player, who is holding 7 nouns at all times, must place the noun they feel best fits the verb (or adjective) in a pile. The player whose turn it is then decides which noun best fits the verb (or adjective).
Now there are some very funny ways this could go down, some very silly combinations, and some just plain sick.
I have been in the process of interviewing for numerous jobs lately, and this has weighed heavily on my mind. During the game, the verb "forgettable" came up and I immediately remembered I had the noun combo "job interview" in my hand. I giggled at first, then I became sullen as I realized how many interviews I had been on already and how many were, in fact, already forgotten.
Urgh, then I wondered if any of these people ever thought about me again after I walked out that door.
I won that hand.
Now there are some very funny ways this could go down, some very silly combinations, and some just plain sick.
I have been in the process of interviewing for numerous jobs lately, and this has weighed heavily on my mind. During the game, the verb "forgettable" came up and I immediately remembered I had the noun combo "job interview" in my hand. I giggled at first, then I became sullen as I realized how many interviews I had been on already and how many were, in fact, already forgotten.
Urgh, then I wondered if any of these people ever thought about me again after I walked out that door.
I won that hand.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Setting the Pace
This morning on my daily run, I followed behind a couple in their late 60's early 70's as they ran the same trail I run. They had a solid pace and as the gentleman set the pace, his wife kept up, although I could tell at times it was a bit of a challange for her. They would run side by side, then she would drop back a bit, then she would catch up and run at his side, but he always maintained the stride to match.
I thought, this is probably a great indication of their relationship.
This is indeed the concept of any solid relationship. Each person has their role. There is a pacesetter on each team. Someone has to be responsible for setting the pace or the action will remain stagnate. I believe when the original vows for marriage were constructed, this was the ideal meaning. The truth behind, "Do you GROOM take BRIDE to be your wife – Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?" Then the BRIDE is requested to repeat the same, yet also include "to obey" the GROOM, for as long as they both shall live.
Nowadays, women don't obey anyone. We're all about equality and power.
This has to be one of the largest reasons for the high divorce rate in this world today.
I am a huge advocate for equal rights, don't misinterpret what I am saying here, but I do believe there has to be a pacesetter in every relationship.
If a woman does not trust her man to be the pacesetter in their relationship, why get married? Why commit your entire life and future to someone you don't trust to guide you through your life together? There is always room for discussion. There should be a mutual respect and commaraderie amongst every couple, but when it comes down to it, why do we as women have to take away the pride men have? Why don't we honor their role and just let them be a man? Under the guise of some sort of stand for equality, why must we twist every natural instinct between man and women and turn it into a pissing match? Equality and marriage do not have to go hand in hand. Companionship and relationship have individual spirit. In every circle of friends there is indeed a leader of some sort, someone who plans outings (gets people motivated), someone who communicates with the circle, someone who brings the food. It is a collaborative effort based on every role. A strong woman exists outside of her relationship with her man. We maintain a home, we work outside the home, we raise kids, we give men reason to make a home. Part of being a strong woman in a relationship is letting your man be a strong man. Emasculating men has become a symbol of women's rights. Is it really? Do we really need to shit on someone else to make ourselves feel better, or indeed stronger?
There is room for strengthening one's self and raising up those around us. All teams function this way...all winning teams that is.
I have struggled with this concept of independance and equality in many aspects of my life. I grew up believing if I wanted something done right, I have to do it myself. This doesn't work so well in relatioship. I don't offer up the opportunity of taking care of any of my needs to another person. I don't give men the opportunity to fail on their own. Or to succeed.
I made choices based on principles and an ideal, when in fact these perceptions do not exist without the belief that they exist.
I passed on a relationship that was "marriage material" because I knew in my heart that this relationship would not measure up to my ideal of what a marriage looked like. Loyalty and integrity were not at the top of this potential partner's priority list. His career was at the top, followed closely by his family, and then his associates. I knew that if I wanted to be in this relationship I would have to sacrifice everything I believed a relationship was supposed to look like. Long lasting love. Companionship. Solidarity and Monogamy. These were things I could not, or would not give up. And I struggle. I look at my life, which is happy and fulfilling and think about how much more financially easy it would be had I sacrificed my emotional stuff in lieu of a "nice" life.
As the couple in front of me progressed further and further ahead of me it occurred to me that perhaps they don't have this ideal either, that this is my story for them. It also occurred to me that perhaps I just needed someone to run with, that this in itself might be a good start. Someone to set the pace.
I thought, this is probably a great indication of their relationship.
This is indeed the concept of any solid relationship. Each person has their role. There is a pacesetter on each team. Someone has to be responsible for setting the pace or the action will remain stagnate. I believe when the original vows for marriage were constructed, this was the ideal meaning. The truth behind, "Do you GROOM take BRIDE to be your wife – Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?" Then the BRIDE is requested to repeat the same, yet also include "to obey" the GROOM, for as long as they both shall live.
Nowadays, women don't obey anyone. We're all about equality and power.
This has to be one of the largest reasons for the high divorce rate in this world today.
I am a huge advocate for equal rights, don't misinterpret what I am saying here, but I do believe there has to be a pacesetter in every relationship.
If a woman does not trust her man to be the pacesetter in their relationship, why get married? Why commit your entire life and future to someone you don't trust to guide you through your life together? There is always room for discussion. There should be a mutual respect and commaraderie amongst every couple, but when it comes down to it, why do we as women have to take away the pride men have? Why don't we honor their role and just let them be a man? Under the guise of some sort of stand for equality, why must we twist every natural instinct between man and women and turn it into a pissing match? Equality and marriage do not have to go hand in hand. Companionship and relationship have individual spirit. In every circle of friends there is indeed a leader of some sort, someone who plans outings (gets people motivated), someone who communicates with the circle, someone who brings the food. It is a collaborative effort based on every role. A strong woman exists outside of her relationship with her man. We maintain a home, we work outside the home, we raise kids, we give men reason to make a home. Part of being a strong woman in a relationship is letting your man be a strong man. Emasculating men has become a symbol of women's rights. Is it really? Do we really need to shit on someone else to make ourselves feel better, or indeed stronger?
There is room for strengthening one's self and raising up those around us. All teams function this way...all winning teams that is.
I have struggled with this concept of independance and equality in many aspects of my life. I grew up believing if I wanted something done right, I have to do it myself. This doesn't work so well in relatioship. I don't offer up the opportunity of taking care of any of my needs to another person. I don't give men the opportunity to fail on their own. Or to succeed.
I made choices based on principles and an ideal, when in fact these perceptions do not exist without the belief that they exist.
I passed on a relationship that was "marriage material" because I knew in my heart that this relationship would not measure up to my ideal of what a marriage looked like. Loyalty and integrity were not at the top of this potential partner's priority list. His career was at the top, followed closely by his family, and then his associates. I knew that if I wanted to be in this relationship I would have to sacrifice everything I believed a relationship was supposed to look like. Long lasting love. Companionship. Solidarity and Monogamy. These were things I could not, or would not give up. And I struggle. I look at my life, which is happy and fulfilling and think about how much more financially easy it would be had I sacrificed my emotional stuff in lieu of a "nice" life.
As the couple in front of me progressed further and further ahead of me it occurred to me that perhaps they don't have this ideal either, that this is my story for them. It also occurred to me that perhaps I just needed someone to run with, that this in itself might be a good start. Someone to set the pace.
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