Those of you who know me know that I have a 14 year old Jack Russell Terrier named Dudley. I have had Duds since he was 6 weeks old. He and I have been through a lot together. In the beginning, I was a single mother. I would work and come home at lunch and let him out of his crate to run around and take care of his bowel and urinary needs. I would rush home at the end of the work day to once again free him from his crate. I would go out on dates based on whether or not the guy was worth sticking Dudley back in his crate during the time I’d be gone. Most of them were not.
Dudley was seen as part of the package when it came to family gatherings. My sister would bring her husband and her young sons for Christmas. I’d bring Dudley. Cousins would share a bed with their spouses. Dudley and I would spoon in my queen sized bed. On weekends, I’d schedule errands around his schedule. I wouldn’t want to be gone too long at a stretch. I’d make sure it wasn’t too hot when we’d go on walks or play with his racquetballs. I’d talk to him a lot. Sing to him (and change lyrics of songs to make them about him). Cuddle with him a lot. Worry and fuss over him. I loved, loved, loved that dog.
When I started dating my husband, I worried that Dudley would come between us. Mike was not used to having pets in the house - much less a dog curled up in his lap or begging for food at the dinner table. After Mike met me, he confided to one of his friends that he liked me enough to where Dudley was not necessarily a “deal-breaker”. Not a deal-breaker? My sweet Dudley?! Let me tell you something, if anyone’s the deal-breaker it’s YOU! Dudley and I are perfectly happy in our little world and don’t need any disruptions to our little routine, thank you very much.
And Dudley did not like Mike at all, either. Their first few months together were just a disaster. I likened it to a teenager getting a new step-parent and pushing the boundaries with all the angst and resentment they can muster. That was how Dudley behaved. He’d growl and snarl at Mike and whimper so I’d think Mike had just struck him (which he hadn’t… that I’m aware of). He was extremely manipulative like a child would be.
You may think I’m exaggerating but picture this: These two hate each other and then we go to my parents’ house for the dreaded, “this is my new boyfriend” weekend of humiliation and Dudley spends the entire time IN MIKE’S LAP. That’s right. He was perched there every time Mike sat down. Now this was due, in part, to the fact that my parents had several dogs and he was trying to “claim” Mike as his. But it also made it seem to others as though Mike was exaggerating or lying about all of Dudley’s childish (doggish) antics. Thankfully, after a potentially relationship-ending encounter between Dudley and some not-quite-dry cement that Mike got blamed for letting him ruin, Mike and Dudley finally made their peace and actually became little buddies in their own right.
In fact, I dare say that Mike is now more of Dudley’s caregiver than I am. When I was single and used to have to leave him in his crate when I’d go to work, I would tell him that someday he wouldn’t have to sit in a crate all day. That I’d create a better life for him somehow. I felt such guilt about having to leave him in his cramped little crate. Enter Mike who is (or, was at the time) self-employed. Dudley now gets to go to work everyday and earn a living. Mike even made him Director of Employee Complaints. Who could complain around such a cute little face? He was the office mascot. And he and Mike got to spend all day together.
Dudley has always been what you’d call a high-needs dog. From a very early age, he had major separation anxiety. It got so bad that at one point he was Prozac – human Prozac – to try and calm him down. It didn’t even make a dent in his behavior, so I considered just taking it myself so I wouldn’t worry so much about him.
In his younger years, we went through a rough stretch where he was being regularly targeted and attacked by a menacing neighborhood mockingbird. If you’ve ever had a run-in with a mockingbird, you know their chirp immediately. They are aptly named – they truly do mock with their aggressive chirps. This one would fly over to a certain point on my roof and would watch him for a while and then swoop down and fly right into him Kamikaze-style with his beak. It got so bad that as soon as we would hear his chirp, Dudley would tuck his tail and run to me, begging to be rescued and taken inside. In fact, we went though a period where Dudley wouldn’t even go outside to relieve himself anymore because he was so frightened of being hurt. I contacted Animal Control who told me that the bird was probably just protecting his nest and that they’d come over and remove the next once I was able to locate it. Okay, I would think locating the nest would be something Animal Control would do. And anyway, I’ve seen the way this bird treats my dog. I’m not going to go try and piss him off. The problem ended when we left for a week on vacation (Dudley couldn’t come – rental house). I guess the bird got bored with no one to pick on and so he flew off to find his next victim.
So, yes, Dudley has always had some special needs. But, they were cute little quirks. Things that made him uniquely Duds. And I loved him for all of the trouble he was. I still do, although my feelings for him have been changing lately. He is now 14 years old which is hard to imagine as you watch him run, swim and play. He looks much younger and is in great shape. But you are quickly reminded when he… say… pees on the bed. Or…just as an example….poops on the dining room rug so that you can smell a hint of feces as you are eating your savory meal. I know he probably can’t help it, but I already have two children. I don’t need a third one. And he now requires more care than I have the time or inclination to give him. And I feel so guilty for it. He has been my little buddy for 14 years and I am getting so annoyed with him these days. It’s not his fault. It’s his age.
I guess it's his age. but I do look at him differently now than I used to. Where he once once the center of my universe he has become a burden to me. Do I find him expendable because he’s old and no longer capable of things that he once was? My goodness - Is this how my kids will feel about me when I begin to age and become incontinent? Will they resent having to yell things to me because I can no longer hear? Will I get in trouble if I chew up the wooden blinds because I’m upset that I’m alone in the house? Will they be angry when I need a bath because I’ve rolled in something dead because it is in my nature to do so? Hopefully not. So why am I so impatient with Dudley? I really do love him and I will be crushed – a sobbing mess – when he dies. It will be awful. Mike and I get teary-eyed just talking about the fact that he won’t be around forever. To actually be faced with it will be excruciating for both of us.
When these things cross my mind, I feel guilty for being so intolerant of him and I’ll go and cuddle with him or scratch him or feed him a piece of something he likes. In the time he has left with our family, I want try and be sure he knows every day that he’s my little buddy no matter where he pees or poops. I’ve seen a lot of posts on Facebook recently where people have had to put their dogs to sleep after a long, healthy life. That will be me sooner rather than later and I don’t need to take it for granted.
Sorry to ramble, but I needed to express it. I needed to focus again on my love for that doggie. Plus, I got nervous that something tragic might happen to me and my last words to all of you would be a post about feminine odor. Thought this one was slightly more heartwarming. Here's a nice quote for you:
Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.
~Agnes Sligh Turnbull
Monday, August 1, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Yep, I'm Going There
*Guys, you probably don’t want to read this. You’ve been warned.
A lot of what this blog is, is a platform for me to use to complain about things I find annoying (which is a considerable – and ever growing - list). There is one thing that has really found it’s way under my skin (pardon the pun that you don’t really “get” now but will after reading on a little further…) lately that I have been reluctant to address but feel I can avoid no longer. That is, the amount and the content of vaginal product advertisements out there right now. Not only are these ads completely degrading and ridiculous, but they paint a picture that the only thing women do is drip, itch, and stink.
In a previous post, I talked about my fear of flying and how I feel like the whole time we are up in the air, the pilot is wrestling with the controls trying desperately to keep the plane in the air when what it really wants to do is crash. These ads make me feel the same way because they would have you believe that women have to constantly work to keep the itch, stench and general not-so-freshness at bay in order to function normally in their lives. Now, I have noted before that I am not a big feminist. I’m not even a small feminist, really. But I do think that these ads are demeaning and I am tired of being portrayed in this way. Let’s walk through a couple of examples, shall we?
First, we have a commercial where a woman is in her wedding dress with her attentive bridesmaids helping put the finishing touches on her hair on the most important day of her life. The very reasoned and comforting voice-over says something to the effect of this being the very last place you would want your feminine itch cream to stop working. My first problem with this ad is they refer to it as “feminine itch” as though that is supposed to make it sound dainty and delicate. You are talking about someone’s vagina itching, how pleasant is that? My second problem is pretty much everything else about the ad. It’s as though this woman could one day be looking at her wedding photo album and instead of recalling the cutting of the cake or the wedding kiss, she’ll be thinking, “I just wish I hadn’t had such an itchy vagina”. I can assure you that vaginal itch NEVER crossed my mind on my wedding day. Not once. Well, maybe once. But certainly not twice.
Another commercial that is loathsome to me is a tampon ad wherein there is a lady in a white bathing suit doing a flip off of the diving board. They pause her mid-spin and leave her there, upside down. She tells you that this is a time she hopes that she can rely on the strength of the tampon currently collecting what must be a geyser in her vagina. As though the tampon will fail and she will look like one of those old vaudeville clowns that shoots seltzer water at the crowd. Again, it leaves the viewer to assume that women are hyper-bleeders and that at any moment one could blow and we’d all be neck-deep in…well, you get the picture. I mean really, why should we even leave the house when it’s “our time of the month”? It’s much too risky for all involved.
Finally, the commercial that really prompted me to cover this topic in the first place is the one for Vagisil Feminine Wash. In the ad, there’s a girl who seems to be headed into a party or something. She very sheepishly opens the door to enter with a look of nervousness on her face. You see, she is self-conscious because of her “feminine odor”. And who wouldn’t be?
Let me ask this: How little are you bathing if you are concerned that merely walking into a room will reveal your palpable vaginal stench? Based on this, the next scene in the commercial should be her walking by and people collapsing into the punchbowl because the pungent smell has overtaken them. And then, her friend – the only one who hasn’t passed out due to years of building up a tolerance to it after repeated exposure – would walk over to her and say, “Sally, you really must do something about your vagina”. I don’t recall how it actually ends because I change the channel every time it comes on.
Come on, is this product really necessary? Can’t the Dove or Dial I’m currently using keep things ship-shape down there? Do I really have to have a separate cleaner for my crotch? Do men have Scrotophyl Penis Wash? No. So, why is this necessary? And who buys this stuff?
Actually, I can tell you who buys these things. And it ain’t pretty. I was in line at the grocery store behind a woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties a few years ago. It was very troubling to me which is why I still remember it. She was purchasing two items. Bananas and douche. The check-out guy was about 18 years old and was probably thinking the same thing I was: this woman is going to go home, eat a banana, and cleanse her vagina. (At least I hope to God that’s what the bananas were for.) I have no idea why this woman felt she needed a good dousing, but apparently she did. Even if I ever needed a product like that – which, I haven’t so far after 37 years of reasonably decent hygienic practices – I would never buy it. I wouldn’t want someone to be pondering just what in the hell was wrong down there as he or she was ringing it up.
Sorry to be so gross and so negative. I just get riled up about these things. Plus, I get that way when I’m about to start my period. Everyone, seek cover.
A lot of what this blog is, is a platform for me to use to complain about things I find annoying (which is a considerable – and ever growing - list). There is one thing that has really found it’s way under my skin (pardon the pun that you don’t really “get” now but will after reading on a little further…) lately that I have been reluctant to address but feel I can avoid no longer. That is, the amount and the content of vaginal product advertisements out there right now. Not only are these ads completely degrading and ridiculous, but they paint a picture that the only thing women do is drip, itch, and stink.
In a previous post, I talked about my fear of flying and how I feel like the whole time we are up in the air, the pilot is wrestling with the controls trying desperately to keep the plane in the air when what it really wants to do is crash. These ads make me feel the same way because they would have you believe that women have to constantly work to keep the itch, stench and general not-so-freshness at bay in order to function normally in their lives. Now, I have noted before that I am not a big feminist. I’m not even a small feminist, really. But I do think that these ads are demeaning and I am tired of being portrayed in this way. Let’s walk through a couple of examples, shall we?
First, we have a commercial where a woman is in her wedding dress with her attentive bridesmaids helping put the finishing touches on her hair on the most important day of her life. The very reasoned and comforting voice-over says something to the effect of this being the very last place you would want your feminine itch cream to stop working. My first problem with this ad is they refer to it as “feminine itch” as though that is supposed to make it sound dainty and delicate. You are talking about someone’s vagina itching, how pleasant is that? My second problem is pretty much everything else about the ad. It’s as though this woman could one day be looking at her wedding photo album and instead of recalling the cutting of the cake or the wedding kiss, she’ll be thinking, “I just wish I hadn’t had such an itchy vagina”. I can assure you that vaginal itch NEVER crossed my mind on my wedding day. Not once. Well, maybe once. But certainly not twice.
Another commercial that is loathsome to me is a tampon ad wherein there is a lady in a white bathing suit doing a flip off of the diving board. They pause her mid-spin and leave her there, upside down. She tells you that this is a time she hopes that she can rely on the strength of the tampon currently collecting what must be a geyser in her vagina. As though the tampon will fail and she will look like one of those old vaudeville clowns that shoots seltzer water at the crowd. Again, it leaves the viewer to assume that women are hyper-bleeders and that at any moment one could blow and we’d all be neck-deep in…well, you get the picture. I mean really, why should we even leave the house when it’s “our time of the month”? It’s much too risky for all involved.
Finally, the commercial that really prompted me to cover this topic in the first place is the one for Vagisil Feminine Wash. In the ad, there’s a girl who seems to be headed into a party or something. She very sheepishly opens the door to enter with a look of nervousness on her face. You see, she is self-conscious because of her “feminine odor”. And who wouldn’t be?
Let me ask this: How little are you bathing if you are concerned that merely walking into a room will reveal your palpable vaginal stench? Based on this, the next scene in the commercial should be her walking by and people collapsing into the punchbowl because the pungent smell has overtaken them. And then, her friend – the only one who hasn’t passed out due to years of building up a tolerance to it after repeated exposure – would walk over to her and say, “Sally, you really must do something about your vagina”. I don’t recall how it actually ends because I change the channel every time it comes on.
Come on, is this product really necessary? Can’t the Dove or Dial I’m currently using keep things ship-shape down there? Do I really have to have a separate cleaner for my crotch? Do men have Scrotophyl Penis Wash? No. So, why is this necessary? And who buys this stuff?
Actually, I can tell you who buys these things. And it ain’t pretty. I was in line at the grocery store behind a woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties a few years ago. It was very troubling to me which is why I still remember it. She was purchasing two items. Bananas and douche. The check-out guy was about 18 years old and was probably thinking the same thing I was: this woman is going to go home, eat a banana, and cleanse her vagina. (At least I hope to God that’s what the bananas were for.) I have no idea why this woman felt she needed a good dousing, but apparently she did. Even if I ever needed a product like that – which, I haven’t so far after 37 years of reasonably decent hygienic practices – I would never buy it. I wouldn’t want someone to be pondering just what in the hell was wrong down there as he or she was ringing it up.
Sorry to be so gross and so negative. I just get riled up about these things. Plus, I get that way when I’m about to start my period. Everyone, seek cover.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Kneel Before Zod
For those of you who do not recognize the title of this post, you are either A. too young; B. too cool; or C. both too young and too cool. I however, know exactly what it means since my sister and I proudly work it into at least one conversation every other week. It is a very powerful line from *one of the best action movies ever made, Superman II. I use it as my title today in order to prove how awesome I am and to engage in a little foreshadowing for how my kids will turn out.
Yes, I am slowly ruining my children. I am exposing them to things that I think are funny or interesting or cool and I see them emulating that and it scares the crap out of me. You see, I am almost 38 years old. I can go around quoting Superman II and it could be perceived as ** "funny" or "hipster" or "hey, she's SO cool she can quote a lame-ass movie and still be okay with herself". But if my kids watch, say, *** one of the all-time greatest musical movies ever - The Pirates of Penzance - and walk around singing the songs, the other kids will simply think they are weird. And will most likely stop playing with them.
You know, the older we get, the more comfortable we are in our skin. We know ourselves better. We care less what others think of us. We are fine with our little weird tastes, habits and idiosyncrasies. We are even fine if someone else thinks we're weird because - HEY - maybe they're weird. They don't sing folk songs by The Kingston Trio at the top of their lungs in their car??? What's their problem?!! But when we are kids, we want desperately to fit in. Even before we understand what it means to fit in, we want acceptance from others. We want the same bow so-and-so was wearing in her hair. We don't want to be ****the last person picked for the kickball team. We want others to like us and think we're neat.
That's where this issue with my children begins to get complicated. You see, I have a fairly juvenile sense of humor. I will do anything to make my girls laugh even if I have to talk about boogers and poo-poo to do it. You know they march into their school and tell people what their mother has taught them. They don't dare mention that I also taught them how snap their fingers or to make a ponytail. It's the idiotic things I do that most likely make it to the playground. I dance around like a robot when I give them their weight-gain shake they have to drink so they won't be forever saddled with my childhood body. They laugh. I continue to do it. They have picked up on this little routine and now dance the same way I do. They don't realize they are being taught to dance by a complete moron.
I like Bugs Bunny cartoons. They now watch them, and quote them, religiously. They are really funny - to people in their 60s. Seriously, how many kids nowadays watch those cartoons? Few if any. They are classic. Utter ridiculousness. My sister and I still quote the silly lines to this day. You know what kids are quoting today? Fart jokes. But, I won't let my kids say "fart". We don't fart in the McCallie household. We toot. All of their friends can say "fart". My kids want desperately to say "fart" and will even say it in a hushed tone so I can't hear it. But they know they aren't supposed to and so they usually go with "toot". I fear the labeling of them as weirdos has already begun.
Getting back to Pirates of Penzance, Kate has now proudly proclaimed on several different occasions that this is her favorite movie. MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE TO HER? I love the movie - grew up watching it - and the music is great. And yes, my sister and I still quote it. But no ***** self-respecting person admits this. And certainly no child should admit to this. I am so embarrassed for her that I have begun a process of manipulation to convince her that Despicable Me is actually her favorite. I think it's rated PG (I'm wanting her to be the "bad girl") and it has Steve Carell in it. What could be cooler than that? But no, she insists that Pirates of Penzance is her favorite. And really, what 5 year old wouldn't love the song stylings of Mr. Rex Smith and the incomparable Angela Landsbury? Kevin Kline and Linda Rondstadt are also in it which ******slightly raises the cool factor, but geez, it's still Angela Landsbury! I don't think my kids could identify Justin Beiber or even Hannah Montana. But that lady from Murder She Wrote? They know her. Rex Smith, who hosted Solid Gold in the 80s alongside Marilyn McCoo? Yep, they know him. Kate sings the songs and discusses the various predicaments of the characters all the time. You know the kids on the playground are thinking, "who the hell is the Pirate King?".
And then there's Meg. She is slightly better off because she doesn't emulate things that I do to the degree that her sister does. But I'm afraid I have warped her a bit, too. A good example is this coming Halloween. My kids have been talking about what costumes they want to wear for months now. They both love the movie Annie (Starring Aileen Quinn. You know, Aileen Quinn. Hello? Anyone?) so I suggested to Meg that she go trick or treating as Annie. She happily agreed and now there is no talking her out of it. That's great and all, except it was totally my idea... from 1982!! Other kids will be going as Jessie form Toy Story with their hair braided and their cute cowgirl boots. Other kids will dress up in a pretty dress with long, white gloves and a tiara and go as a princess. Other kids will wear pretty, sheer wings and have glitter in their hair and go as a fairy. Meg will be clomping around the neighborhood wearing a big, red afro.
So what are some other things my children have to *******look forward to? Well, my sister and I happily quote Superman II (as well as the original Superman of course!), The Pirates of Penzance, Looney Tunes, Annie, and scores of other embarrassing, ridiculous movies pretty much EVERY time were speak to or see each other. We do quote a lot of Saturday Night Live, but before you go thinking that somehow ********redeems us, you should know that a lot of it is from the early 80s when people like Tim Kazurinsky were on. (In case you are wondering, her kids are probably no better off than my own. My apologies to them as well as to my kids who are doomed to turn out just like me.)
While I am doling out apologies, I obviously owe a big one to my sister whom I have outed as being as gigantic a geek as I am. I will have to now throw myself at her mercy. I hope she doesn't hit me with a stern, "KNEEEEEL BEFORE ZODDDDD"!!!!
Anyway, if you or your children come in contact with either of my girls, please do your best to undo some of the monumental damage I have done. Please put them in touch with the right movies, music, dancing and popular culture for a child their age. Please intervene as you see fit and they will thank you for it one day when they realize they have forgotten all of the words to "A Rollicking Band of Pirates We".
* No one has ever called Superman II one of the best action, or any other type of movie, ever made.
** It is actually perceived as none of these.
*** The Pirates of Penzance has never been labeled as one of the all-time greatest movie musicals ever. Ever.
**** Say hello to the last person picked to be on the kickball team. :(
***** I have no self-respect.
****** Not nearly enough.
******* Dread.
******** As if anything could.
Yes, I am slowly ruining my children. I am exposing them to things that I think are funny or interesting or cool and I see them emulating that and it scares the crap out of me. You see, I am almost 38 years old. I can go around quoting Superman II and it could be perceived as ** "funny" or "hipster" or "hey, she's SO cool she can quote a lame-ass movie and still be okay with herself". But if my kids watch, say, *** one of the all-time greatest musical movies ever - The Pirates of Penzance - and walk around singing the songs, the other kids will simply think they are weird. And will most likely stop playing with them.
You know, the older we get, the more comfortable we are in our skin. We know ourselves better. We care less what others think of us. We are fine with our little weird tastes, habits and idiosyncrasies. We are even fine if someone else thinks we're weird because - HEY - maybe they're weird. They don't sing folk songs by The Kingston Trio at the top of their lungs in their car??? What's their problem?!! But when we are kids, we want desperately to fit in. Even before we understand what it means to fit in, we want acceptance from others. We want the same bow so-and-so was wearing in her hair. We don't want to be ****the last person picked for the kickball team. We want others to like us and think we're neat.
That's where this issue with my children begins to get complicated. You see, I have a fairly juvenile sense of humor. I will do anything to make my girls laugh even if I have to talk about boogers and poo-poo to do it. You know they march into their school and tell people what their mother has taught them. They don't dare mention that I also taught them how snap their fingers or to make a ponytail. It's the idiotic things I do that most likely make it to the playground. I dance around like a robot when I give them their weight-gain shake they have to drink so they won't be forever saddled with my childhood body. They laugh. I continue to do it. They have picked up on this little routine and now dance the same way I do. They don't realize they are being taught to dance by a complete moron.
I like Bugs Bunny cartoons. They now watch them, and quote them, religiously. They are really funny - to people in their 60s. Seriously, how many kids nowadays watch those cartoons? Few if any. They are classic. Utter ridiculousness. My sister and I still quote the silly lines to this day. You know what kids are quoting today? Fart jokes. But, I won't let my kids say "fart". We don't fart in the McCallie household. We toot. All of their friends can say "fart". My kids want desperately to say "fart" and will even say it in a hushed tone so I can't hear it. But they know they aren't supposed to and so they usually go with "toot". I fear the labeling of them as weirdos has already begun.
Getting back to Pirates of Penzance, Kate has now proudly proclaimed on several different occasions that this is her favorite movie. MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE TO HER? I love the movie - grew up watching it - and the music is great. And yes, my sister and I still quote it. But no ***** self-respecting person admits this. And certainly no child should admit to this. I am so embarrassed for her that I have begun a process of manipulation to convince her that Despicable Me is actually her favorite. I think it's rated PG (I'm wanting her to be the "bad girl") and it has Steve Carell in it. What could be cooler than that? But no, she insists that Pirates of Penzance is her favorite. And really, what 5 year old wouldn't love the song stylings of Mr. Rex Smith and the incomparable Angela Landsbury? Kevin Kline and Linda Rondstadt are also in it which ******slightly raises the cool factor, but geez, it's still Angela Landsbury! I don't think my kids could identify Justin Beiber or even Hannah Montana. But that lady from Murder She Wrote? They know her. Rex Smith, who hosted Solid Gold in the 80s alongside Marilyn McCoo? Yep, they know him. Kate sings the songs and discusses the various predicaments of the characters all the time. You know the kids on the playground are thinking, "who the hell is the Pirate King?".
And then there's Meg. She is slightly better off because she doesn't emulate things that I do to the degree that her sister does. But I'm afraid I have warped her a bit, too. A good example is this coming Halloween. My kids have been talking about what costumes they want to wear for months now. They both love the movie Annie (Starring Aileen Quinn. You know, Aileen Quinn. Hello? Anyone?) so I suggested to Meg that she go trick or treating as Annie. She happily agreed and now there is no talking her out of it. That's great and all, except it was totally my idea... from 1982!! Other kids will be going as Jessie form Toy Story with their hair braided and their cute cowgirl boots. Other kids will dress up in a pretty dress with long, white gloves and a tiara and go as a princess. Other kids will wear pretty, sheer wings and have glitter in their hair and go as a fairy. Meg will be clomping around the neighborhood wearing a big, red afro.
So what are some other things my children have to *******look forward to? Well, my sister and I happily quote Superman II (as well as the original Superman of course!), The Pirates of Penzance, Looney Tunes, Annie, and scores of other embarrassing, ridiculous movies pretty much EVERY time were speak to or see each other. We do quote a lot of Saturday Night Live, but before you go thinking that somehow ********redeems us, you should know that a lot of it is from the early 80s when people like Tim Kazurinsky were on. (In case you are wondering, her kids are probably no better off than my own. My apologies to them as well as to my kids who are doomed to turn out just like me.)
While I am doling out apologies, I obviously owe a big one to my sister whom I have outed as being as gigantic a geek as I am. I will have to now throw myself at her mercy. I hope she doesn't hit me with a stern, "KNEEEEEL BEFORE ZODDDDD"!!!!
Anyway, if you or your children come in contact with either of my girls, please do your best to undo some of the monumental damage I have done. Please put them in touch with the right movies, music, dancing and popular culture for a child their age. Please intervene as you see fit and they will thank you for it one day when they realize they have forgotten all of the words to "A Rollicking Band of Pirates We".
* No one has ever called Superman II one of the best action, or any other type of movie, ever made.
** It is actually perceived as none of these.
*** The Pirates of Penzance has never been labeled as one of the all-time greatest movie musicals ever. Ever.
**** Say hello to the last person picked to be on the kickball team. :(
***** I have no self-respect.
****** Not nearly enough.
******* Dread.
******** As if anything could.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Questionnaire
The other day I was flipping channels as I often do when I should be cleaning my house or interacting with my children. I came across Inside The Actors Studio – a program which I love hosted by James Lipton whom I also love. Mr. Lipton has always seemed to be a neat guy, but it wasn’t until his hilarious turns on Arrested Development (R.I.P., sniff) and Late Night with Conan O’Brien (call me, Sweet CoCo!!) that I discovered how hilarious he is. Of course, many people only know him from Will Ferrell’s spot-on impersonation of him on Saturday Night Live, but I’ve watched his show several times over the years when he’s had interesting guests appear.
My favorite part of his show is not the dreaded Q&A part at the end. I cringe whenever they hand a microphone to someone to ask someone else who is infinitely more intelligent than they are a question. My husband and I went to a John Irving appearance and reading at the Ryman Hall in Nashville a few years back (gosh, that makes me sound so intellectual and stuff) and he (my husband, not John Irving) and I both wanted to just crawl under the seat every time some tattooed, pierced goth girl got up and asked him what advice he’d give a new writer starting out. I don’t know why, I just think the questions people ask end up sounding juvenile and poser-y (it’s a word, I swear). I feel the same way when the ITAS students introduce themselves (I’m a third-year film student…) and ask questions about “the craft”, etc. I don’t want to listen to them. I want to listen to Kevin Spacey, Morgan Freeman and Tina Fey.
No, my favorite part of the show comes right before the Q&A starts. It is a 10 question questionnaire tailored after the Proust Questionnaire (whatever the hell that is). You know each guest has rehearsed his or her answers to these questions prior to coming on the show because Lipton asks them on every episode. They always have these profound answers – actors can be so smug. So, it’s a little annoying that their answers are not spontaneous, but I still like listening to them. I have often wondered how I would respond to the questions. I don’t think I’ll ever be on ITAS for a lot of reasons the main one being that I am not a famous actor. But that doesn’t mean I can’t answer these questions for you, my adoring fan(s). So here goes. And I haven’t rehearsed these answers, I swear!!!
Q1. What is your favorite word?
A1. My favorite word is most likely obsolete by now. It is tocadiscos, the Spanish word for record player. (If you look at the word, it is comprised of two separate words – toca, which comes from tocar which means to play. Then there’s discos, which are records or, I guess now, CDs.) I like this word simply because of how much fun it is to pronounce. If you don’t lose about a tablespoon of saliva when you say it, you’re not trying hard enough. And I always say it as a plural when I say it (which admittedly isn’t very often) which is los tocadiscos. Here is how you want to pronounce it:
First, “Los”: You should drop your chin a little bit and kind of form a square shape with your mouth. Your eyebrows should be furrowed (you’re not angry, you’re just getting a good, guttural drawl going) and your teeth should be showing. You reach deep within yourself and say "lllloooossssss!" And you say it with conviction.
Then there’s “tocadiscos”: You still have the furrowed brows (those are important). The Spanish “T” can sometimes sound like a “TH” and you need to try and get somewhere between the T and the TH when you start off. It packs more punch that way. So, with your jaw semi-clenched, you say “th/tohka”. Of course, following the toca is the best part – the discos! With a little more emphasis than is necessary, you launch into the deeeeeskohs part. It is important to continue to form your mouth into a square during this part as well. And you should try and say it fast. It just comes out sounding more fierce if you say it fast.
So there it is. My favorite word. Tocadiscos.
Q2. What is your least favorite word?
A2. Usually when a celebrity responds to this question, he or she will say the typical bleeding-heart “oppression”, “suffering” or “intolerance”. Mine isn’t quite that deep I’m sorry to say. No, my least favorite word is smear. I just think it sounds gross. Nothing pleasant is ever smeared. If I write a book someday, I’ll never describe someone smearing lipstick on her plump, supple lips. She will have to apply it. Or, God forbid, simply put it on. No smearing. Yuck.
A runner-up would be haberdasher. This isn’t an offensive or even gross word. I just don’t like it. It just sounds so Old English. So snooty. And where does a haberdasher work? A haberdashery? I guess so. I don’t like it.
Q3. What turns you on?
A3. I don’t think this question is meant to have a sexual connotation so, much to your relief, I will not answer it from that perspective. Instead, I’ll assume it is getting at the things in life that interest you and/or make you happy. So, what turns me on is humor. A sense of humor says so much about a person. One, it says that you don’t take yourself too seriously which means you’re generally pleasant to be around. Two, it says that you are reasonably intelligent. People who don’t “get the joke” are not clever or intuitive and so they are not interesting. Three, it makes you more fun to be around than people who aren’t humorous. I’ve met people who aren’t funny. There's a word for people like that. Bland. Can you imagine not laughing everyday? What do these people talk about? Who falls in love with them? What stories do they tell?
Everyone in my family (husband, children, parents, siblings and extended family) is funny. Most of my friends are funny. That’s not an accident. I purposely seek funny people out with whom to surround myself. Life is too hard and too short not to find reasons to laugh.
Q4. What turns you off?
A4. Pretty much all of my previous posts have covered this. My quick answers would be Reality TV, Katherine Heigl, Donald Trump’s hair, Atlanta traffic, anyone with the last name Kardashian, Organic carrot juice with fresh ground ginger, stupid songs, and Kate Gosselin.
Q5. What sound or noise do you love?
A5. I love the sound of my kids cracking up. We laugh a lot in our house. We act silly. We dance around. But when my kids get really tickled at something and just get into a laugh of complete abandon, it cracks me up and warms my heart.
That’s the nice answer. The weird one is that I love the sound of a good congestion-y cough. Love it. I realize that the sound I am hearing is the loosening of phlegm, but the heart wants what it wants. I get so disgusted every time I have one of those dry, irritating coughs. What’s the point? If I can’t hear that exquisite crackling sound it is an utter disappointment. Kids get those good, wet coughs. As much as I hate for my kids to feel bad, I do enjoy listening to that rasp. Love it. Love it. Love it.
Q6. What sound or noise do you hate?
A6. A dry cough, of course. Just a total letdown. But also, a really thick New York accent. Nothing against NY. It’s just such an ugly dialect. I know people think a Southern accent makes people sound stupid (which it does and which many of us are), but a Bronx-ian accent makes someone sound like a shrill, know-it-all, obnoxious ass. Mike and I were in Chicago walking down a crowded street behind these two ladies who were obviously from NY. They were talking about some girl named Ellie or Allie (couldn’t really tell). At one point, one of the ladies, disgusted with the conversation, turned to her friend and said, “Well, theeeaat’s just EEEAAllie. She’s sucha howahh.” (For those of you who need a translation – That’s just E/Allie. She’s such a whore.) Not only is the accent grating, but people outside of the south also are a lot louder and talk more freely than we do here. If I were calling someone a whore, I would do it under my breath and not broadcast it so that everyone on Michigan Avenue could hear me. I would say it, of course. I’m not above that. But I would say it so only my friend would be able to hear it. And since when does the word “whore” have two syllables?!
Q7. What is your favorite curse word?
A7. Motherfucker. Hands down. And I used to NEVER say the “F” word. I thought it was the worst word you could say. Which it is – at least, one of the worst. I thought it was so dirty and so disgusting. And then you add the “mother” to it and it just completely morphs into the worst and most demeaning put-down ever. But, I’m afraid this word has crept into my vocabulary over the years because a few of my friends were able to show me the joys of using it. It just perfectly sums up what you need to say. I use it as an expression if something isn’t going my way. Sometimes I’ll refer to someone as that but usually only if I am joking. Like, I’ll refer to someone’s grandfather as that. It just sounds hilarious to accuse an 87 year old person of being a motherfucker.
I don’t know where the word came from or how it first got its start. You have to think that when a language is developed, one person uses a word and then other people hear it and like it and so they start using it. I’m not sure who the first person was to use the word motherfucker. I imagine it was probably a caveman who was trying to bang out a wheel with some primitive tools and hit his thumb and said, “Well Mo-ther-Fucker!”.
Q8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
A8. A writer for SNL, Conan, or 30 Rock. How awesome would it be to be part of that synergy? Can you imagine how much fun those people have? Can you imagine sitting around a room and coming up with a concept and then playing off of each other trying to make it better and funnier. (I’m not at all sure that this is how the writing process takes place but in my mind, this is how it goes.) That is what I do every day of my life. Wouldn’t it be awesome to get paid for doing that? I’m not funny on my own. I need people to play off of. I need a good audience. That’s why all of my friends are funny. That’s why I enjoy being with my family. They make me funnier. I would love to be funny and write funny things for a living.
Q9. What profession would you not like to do?
A9. Anything in the medical profession; particularly nursing. Nurses have to wipe bottoms and clean up vomit. I do that now for two little girls that I love more than life itself. I would never, ever want to do this for a stranger. And next time you’re in Wal-Mart or the airport or anyplace where large numbers of people gather, take a look around. These are the bottoms nurses are having to wipe. I know that I keep my bottom relatively clean. I can’t say with any confidence that the dude standing in line in front of me at the DMV with 2/3 of his crack peeking out from above the waistband of his pants does the same.
Q10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
A10. This is the hardest one for me to answer. I really don’t know what I’d want Him to say. I’d need to start off by saying, “Sorry I wasn’t really sure this place existed”. I’m afraid He would say, “This is a mix-up. You’re supposed to join the rest of your friends and family who have gone before you in hell.” But, if it does exist and I was forgiven for having doubts, I’d hope He would say, “You were a good person, a good wife and a good mother and you made people feel good about themselves.” I hope I treat people with kindness and sensitivity and help them to laugh. I hope it makes a difference to the people I have in my life. I hope He says, “The people in your life whom you loved, loved you in return”. I also hope He shows me over to where my loved ones have been since they’ve been there. I’d hug my Gannie first.
So there’s my list. It was harder than I thought it would be which is why I am convinced now that all of the guests who come on the show practice it over and over before their appearance. Next time a hoity-toity actor gives a neatly thought out answer, I’ll know that they likely spent hours going over their responses in order to perfect them and sound pompous. Those motherfuckers.
My favorite part of his show is not the dreaded Q&A part at the end. I cringe whenever they hand a microphone to someone to ask someone else who is infinitely more intelligent than they are a question. My husband and I went to a John Irving appearance and reading at the Ryman Hall in Nashville a few years back (gosh, that makes me sound so intellectual and stuff) and he (my husband, not John Irving) and I both wanted to just crawl under the seat every time some tattooed, pierced goth girl got up and asked him what advice he’d give a new writer starting out. I don’t know why, I just think the questions people ask end up sounding juvenile and poser-y (it’s a word, I swear). I feel the same way when the ITAS students introduce themselves (I’m a third-year film student…) and ask questions about “the craft”, etc. I don’t want to listen to them. I want to listen to Kevin Spacey, Morgan Freeman and Tina Fey.
No, my favorite part of the show comes right before the Q&A starts. It is a 10 question questionnaire tailored after the Proust Questionnaire (whatever the hell that is). You know each guest has rehearsed his or her answers to these questions prior to coming on the show because Lipton asks them on every episode. They always have these profound answers – actors can be so smug. So, it’s a little annoying that their answers are not spontaneous, but I still like listening to them. I have often wondered how I would respond to the questions. I don’t think I’ll ever be on ITAS for a lot of reasons the main one being that I am not a famous actor. But that doesn’t mean I can’t answer these questions for you, my adoring fan(s). So here goes. And I haven’t rehearsed these answers, I swear!!!
Q1. What is your favorite word?
A1. My favorite word is most likely obsolete by now. It is tocadiscos, the Spanish word for record player. (If you look at the word, it is comprised of two separate words – toca, which comes from tocar which means to play. Then there’s discos, which are records or, I guess now, CDs.) I like this word simply because of how much fun it is to pronounce. If you don’t lose about a tablespoon of saliva when you say it, you’re not trying hard enough. And I always say it as a plural when I say it (which admittedly isn’t very often) which is los tocadiscos. Here is how you want to pronounce it:
First, “Los”: You should drop your chin a little bit and kind of form a square shape with your mouth. Your eyebrows should be furrowed (you’re not angry, you’re just getting a good, guttural drawl going) and your teeth should be showing. You reach deep within yourself and say "lllloooossssss!" And you say it with conviction.
Then there’s “tocadiscos”: You still have the furrowed brows (those are important). The Spanish “T” can sometimes sound like a “TH” and you need to try and get somewhere between the T and the TH when you start off. It packs more punch that way. So, with your jaw semi-clenched, you say “th/tohka”. Of course, following the toca is the best part – the discos! With a little more emphasis than is necessary, you launch into the deeeeeskohs part. It is important to continue to form your mouth into a square during this part as well. And you should try and say it fast. It just comes out sounding more fierce if you say it fast.
So there it is. My favorite word. Tocadiscos.
Q2. What is your least favorite word?
A2. Usually when a celebrity responds to this question, he or she will say the typical bleeding-heart “oppression”, “suffering” or “intolerance”. Mine isn’t quite that deep I’m sorry to say. No, my least favorite word is smear. I just think it sounds gross. Nothing pleasant is ever smeared. If I write a book someday, I’ll never describe someone smearing lipstick on her plump, supple lips. She will have to apply it. Or, God forbid, simply put it on. No smearing. Yuck.
A runner-up would be haberdasher. This isn’t an offensive or even gross word. I just don’t like it. It just sounds so Old English. So snooty. And where does a haberdasher work? A haberdashery? I guess so. I don’t like it.
Q3. What turns you on?
A3. I don’t think this question is meant to have a sexual connotation so, much to your relief, I will not answer it from that perspective. Instead, I’ll assume it is getting at the things in life that interest you and/or make you happy. So, what turns me on is humor. A sense of humor says so much about a person. One, it says that you don’t take yourself too seriously which means you’re generally pleasant to be around. Two, it says that you are reasonably intelligent. People who don’t “get the joke” are not clever or intuitive and so they are not interesting. Three, it makes you more fun to be around than people who aren’t humorous. I’ve met people who aren’t funny. There's a word for people like that. Bland. Can you imagine not laughing everyday? What do these people talk about? Who falls in love with them? What stories do they tell?
Everyone in my family (husband, children, parents, siblings and extended family) is funny. Most of my friends are funny. That’s not an accident. I purposely seek funny people out with whom to surround myself. Life is too hard and too short not to find reasons to laugh.
Q4. What turns you off?
A4. Pretty much all of my previous posts have covered this. My quick answers would be Reality TV, Katherine Heigl, Donald Trump’s hair, Atlanta traffic, anyone with the last name Kardashian, Organic carrot juice with fresh ground ginger, stupid songs, and Kate Gosselin.
Q5. What sound or noise do you love?
A5. I love the sound of my kids cracking up. We laugh a lot in our house. We act silly. We dance around. But when my kids get really tickled at something and just get into a laugh of complete abandon, it cracks me up and warms my heart.
That’s the nice answer. The weird one is that I love the sound of a good congestion-y cough. Love it. I realize that the sound I am hearing is the loosening of phlegm, but the heart wants what it wants. I get so disgusted every time I have one of those dry, irritating coughs. What’s the point? If I can’t hear that exquisite crackling sound it is an utter disappointment. Kids get those good, wet coughs. As much as I hate for my kids to feel bad, I do enjoy listening to that rasp. Love it. Love it. Love it.
Q6. What sound or noise do you hate?
A6. A dry cough, of course. Just a total letdown. But also, a really thick New York accent. Nothing against NY. It’s just such an ugly dialect. I know people think a Southern accent makes people sound stupid (which it does and which many of us are), but a Bronx-ian accent makes someone sound like a shrill, know-it-all, obnoxious ass. Mike and I were in Chicago walking down a crowded street behind these two ladies who were obviously from NY. They were talking about some girl named Ellie or Allie (couldn’t really tell). At one point, one of the ladies, disgusted with the conversation, turned to her friend and said, “Well, theeeaat’s just EEEAAllie. She’s sucha howahh.” (For those of you who need a translation – That’s just E/Allie. She’s such a whore.) Not only is the accent grating, but people outside of the south also are a lot louder and talk more freely than we do here. If I were calling someone a whore, I would do it under my breath and not broadcast it so that everyone on Michigan Avenue could hear me. I would say it, of course. I’m not above that. But I would say it so only my friend would be able to hear it. And since when does the word “whore” have two syllables?!
Q7. What is your favorite curse word?
A7. Motherfucker. Hands down. And I used to NEVER say the “F” word. I thought it was the worst word you could say. Which it is – at least, one of the worst. I thought it was so dirty and so disgusting. And then you add the “mother” to it and it just completely morphs into the worst and most demeaning put-down ever. But, I’m afraid this word has crept into my vocabulary over the years because a few of my friends were able to show me the joys of using it. It just perfectly sums up what you need to say. I use it as an expression if something isn’t going my way. Sometimes I’ll refer to someone as that but usually only if I am joking. Like, I’ll refer to someone’s grandfather as that. It just sounds hilarious to accuse an 87 year old person of being a motherfucker.
I don’t know where the word came from or how it first got its start. You have to think that when a language is developed, one person uses a word and then other people hear it and like it and so they start using it. I’m not sure who the first person was to use the word motherfucker. I imagine it was probably a caveman who was trying to bang out a wheel with some primitive tools and hit his thumb and said, “Well Mo-ther-Fucker!”.
Q8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
A8. A writer for SNL, Conan, or 30 Rock. How awesome would it be to be part of that synergy? Can you imagine how much fun those people have? Can you imagine sitting around a room and coming up with a concept and then playing off of each other trying to make it better and funnier. (I’m not at all sure that this is how the writing process takes place but in my mind, this is how it goes.) That is what I do every day of my life. Wouldn’t it be awesome to get paid for doing that? I’m not funny on my own. I need people to play off of. I need a good audience. That’s why all of my friends are funny. That’s why I enjoy being with my family. They make me funnier. I would love to be funny and write funny things for a living.
Q9. What profession would you not like to do?
A9. Anything in the medical profession; particularly nursing. Nurses have to wipe bottoms and clean up vomit. I do that now for two little girls that I love more than life itself. I would never, ever want to do this for a stranger. And next time you’re in Wal-Mart or the airport or anyplace where large numbers of people gather, take a look around. These are the bottoms nurses are having to wipe. I know that I keep my bottom relatively clean. I can’t say with any confidence that the dude standing in line in front of me at the DMV with 2/3 of his crack peeking out from above the waistband of his pants does the same.
Q10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
A10. This is the hardest one for me to answer. I really don’t know what I’d want Him to say. I’d need to start off by saying, “Sorry I wasn’t really sure this place existed”. I’m afraid He would say, “This is a mix-up. You’re supposed to join the rest of your friends and family who have gone before you in hell.” But, if it does exist and I was forgiven for having doubts, I’d hope He would say, “You were a good person, a good wife and a good mother and you made people feel good about themselves.” I hope I treat people with kindness and sensitivity and help them to laugh. I hope it makes a difference to the people I have in my life. I hope He says, “The people in your life whom you loved, loved you in return”. I also hope He shows me over to where my loved ones have been since they’ve been there. I’d hug my Gannie first.
So there’s my list. It was harder than I thought it would be which is why I am convinced now that all of the guests who come on the show practice it over and over before their appearance. Next time a hoity-toity actor gives a neatly thought out answer, I’ll know that they likely spent hours going over their responses in order to perfect them and sound pompous. Those motherfuckers.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
WHY; Vol. 2
So, it’s been about a year since my first WHY post, so I thought perhaps I should revisit the idea. What I did was pose some questions that had been gnawing at me to see if you, my loyal reader(s?), could help explain them. I got 5 comments out of it – sadly that’s a personal best for me – so I thought perhaps you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. No? Well, let’s try it again anyway.
1. WHY is it that Donald Trump is trying to run for President?! Does he really believe he has a shot in hell of being elected? He’s not used to people telling him no. How would that go over in dealing with Congress? Other world leaders? Would he simply “fire” Ghadhafi and expect all of those problems to go away? He’s not qualified to be our president. He’s not reasonable enough to be our president. And if, for no other reason, I would not vote for him because he doesn’t have sense enough to abandon that ridiculous hair. That, more than anything else, proves he is incapable of leading this country.
2. WHY are people buying tickets to Charlie Sheen’s Torpedo of Truth tour? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?? It is bad enough that we must be kept abreast of his every move via the media, but for people to actually be interested in what this man has to say – it’s ludicrous! Last year I was ranting about being disgusted that Kate Gosselin was all over the place and that we were all expected to care about her. The interest in her has (thankfully) waned, but unfortunately has been replaced by interested in him. And he’s CRAZY. Or high. Or both. We shouldn’t listen to him. We should shut him up and hope that someone gets him some help. The fact that Japan could have a tsunami that could kill thousands of people and he would make the cover of People Magazine is a sad, sad commentary on what we think is worth our time and attention.
3. WHY is every song now sung by someone and “feat.” someone else? Half of the top 10 songs on I-Tunes are sung by one artist but “feat.” someone usually with a completely ridiculous name. All these hip-hop artists have the most absurd names. Big Boi, Mista F.A.B, Sista Soulja, Ludacris (which I actually think is clever since his actual name is Chris), Acafool (that is not a typo), Sticky Fingaz, Flo’Rida (he’s actually from Florida! Who knew?!) Killa Priest, etc. Then there’s C-Murder. This guy’s not even trying. No clever innuendo. No double entendre. He just goes straight to C-Murder. Perhaps we don't have long to wait before becoming acquainted with MC-Drugs or J-Gun Violence. C-Murder?! That’s not clever at all. It’s not a witty pun. It’s not a krazy spelling. It doesn’t mean anything – just… C-Murder. Sounds like a charming young man. Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, C-Murder.
I think these names are so silly and in a lot of cases so violent. Their names need to evoke more positive images than murder and mayhem - especially during these tough times that are upon us. Here are some of my suggestions:
Skippy Meadows
C-Kittens
Chair I Tee
Mista Rogers
Sunny Fancypants
Anything but C-Murder. What a downer!
4. WHY is everyone so fascinated by the upcoming royal wedding? Newsflash people: They are not our royal family. And monarchies are silly and archaic anyway. What do we care about Prince William and Kate Middleton? I hope they have a happy marriage, but I hope that for anyone getting married. Aside from that, I don’t much care about it. I don’t want to know her wedding workout regimen. I don’t want to buy a commemorative plate with their faces on it. I don’t want to win a replica of her ring. I don’t plan to watch it on TV. I plan to wake up that day and go through my normal routine. My life won’t change when they get married. Will yours? And if it will, what is wrong with you?!
5. WHY do I always have to pee ten times before going to bed? I think it’s a mental thing – this irrational fear that as soon as I get comfortable and on the verge of sleep, I’ll have to pee. So instead of ever getting comfortable, I just have to get up and pee several times. It also happens whenever I go snow skiing. I’ll get all bundled up in my 17 layers of clothing and then have to take it all off (or pull it down – whatever) and go to the bathroom. Very annoying. Another weird fact about my bladder (since you asked and all…) is that whenever I am hiding from someone, it instantly makes me have to pee. Not that I hide from people regularly (that kind of makes me sound like a freak) but even as a kid if I was playing hide and seek, I would go hide in the closet and almost wet my pants. It happens today if I am playing with the kids. Does that make me weird? Have I over-shared?
6. WHY is it that when I give up chips (except for chips in a Mexican restaurant – I have to have an “out”) for Lent as I have done this year, every room I walk into smells like Fritos? Or Cheetos? Or Doritos? Or tasty Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles? Or Barbecue Lays? Or Funyuns? I can smell these beautiful smells everywhere and yet, I cannot indulge. After Easter, I know it will go away and every room will begin smelling like stale breath and/or feet again. Isn’t that how it always works?
7. WHY are so many people still being diagnosed with and, in many cases, dying of cancer? One of Mike’s friends has Stage 4 cancer; one of my friends has Stage 2 colon cancer. Two of my work friends have very close family members who are incurable. And, of course, you all know a person or people who have it or have had it. So many young people are being diagnosed, too. What is going on? And all of these people who are stealing identities and creating super viruses that can make your computer explode – what would happen if they used their brains for good instead of evil? Might we be closer to a cure if the number of bad people out there made choices to do something positive for someone else? I hate people who are smart enough to make a positive contribution and then do the opposite. I hate them.
8. WHO (oops! Not a WHY question, but important nonetheless) creates all of the Apps (I hate that word, but I’d sound like a geek if I called them Applications) available for your I-Phone? Who has that kind of time? Who thought, “Dammit! I’m going to create a game where you use a slingshot to hurl a bunch of pissed off birds toward some pigs so they can blow them up!” We haven’t cured cancer but we have Angry Birds. Not that Angry Birds is completely unnecessary. It is nice to have some mindless entertainment. But who thinks of these things? I have no idea why these things are necessary, but apparently to millions of people (myself included) they are. How did we ever survive before Doodle Jump?
9. WHY do people seem to always create a walkway right in front of me when I’m standing in a line? It never fails. If I am in a large crowd and people are trying to push their way through, they will always walk over to where I’m standing and squeeze in between me and whoever is standing next to me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m fairly small and people assume they can just bulldoze right past me and I won’t be able to do much about it, but whatever it is, it’s annoying. I will purposely not make eye contact with people because I know they’ll think it gives them license to use me as a walkway. Even without acknowledging me, they’ll still choose either right in front of me or right in back of me to make their way to wherever it is they are going. Every time.
10. WHY are so many air traffic controllers falling asleep on the job right now? I work for a manufacturing company. If you are caught sleeping, you get fired. There’s just too much machinery and too many dangers to yourself and to others if you sleep. The odds of a person falling asleep and something horrible happening are obviously extremely low, but it’s important to note nonetheless. Now, if your job is solely to keep things flowing safely and smoothly – arrivals, departures – and keep the air traffic… well, controlled, then I would think you would also be fired for falling asleep on the job. These people who have been in the news lately for doing just that are being suspended when they get caught. Suspended! That’s it! If I’m an air traffic controller and I fall asleep, I am risking the lives of at least one entire plane full of people, people on the ground, etc.
Also where I work, good attendance is a requirement for your job. A colleague of mine was in an Unemployment hearing for an associate who we had terminated for poor attendance. The hearing officer actually asked my colleague if the terminated employee had been made aware that attendance was a requirement of the job. We all joked about it at the time – if a person doesn’t realize that showing up is a crucial part of the job, what is the world coming to?! Similarly, if I’m an air traffic controller, I’m thinking at the very least I should be awake. I mean, these people don’t seem to have an attendance problem. But the problem is, they are not conscious when they are on the job – another crucial piece to, I dare say, just about any job out there. What is going on? And why were these people merely suspended? If they have no more regard for the lives in their care, they don’t deserve to have their jobs. What I want to know is, why this happening so much right now? Are these air traffic contollers just inexplicably passing out on their jobs or has this been happening all along and the media is only now becoming aware of it?
11. WHY do kids instinctively know that "potty words" as we call them in our household are so funny? My kids talk and giggle about their bottoms/hineys, poop, their ba-ginas, their beeboos (boobies), tee tee and tooting ALL THE TIME. We've tried to not draw attention to these words for fear of giving them a stigma and making them more attractive to our girls, but that doesn't seem to matter. They proudly use those words - in mixed company or not - and just laugh their little bottoms/hineys off. They'll ask to see my bottom (big mistake, girls, for this is a preview of what yours will look like one day and it aint pretty) and want to touch my beeboos because they know its silly and naughty. How did they turn out this way? When does innocence go away? Apparerntly as early as age three.
And finally...
12. WHY is it that at a time when I am focused on how much money I am spending I choose that exact moment to wreck my car? (Let me clarify here – it’s not that I normally just wildly spend money. I don’t at all. But, I am more tuned in to what we are spending these days because we have made a few renovations to our lake house and we have to furnish a couple of new rooms, etc.) I was driving on this little country road on the way to go get supplies from Lowe’s on Saturday when out darts this ratty looking cat. I don’t even like cats (except Lola, Mary) and yet my instinct was to do a hard swerve to avoid hitting it and ran into a construction sign on the side of the road demolishing my front right tire and side mirror and tearing a huge gash in the body of my car. This (probably) stray cat – whose life is probably worth less than $10 – will now cost us who knows how many thousands of dollars in repairs. And all while I am trying to be contentious of money. That’s what I get for worrying about what I’m spending. I won’t make that mistake again.
A funny side note – My three year old asked me where my car was since I was driving her daddy’s car. I told her I had had an accident in mine and couldn’t drive it. She turned to me and asked, very concerned, “Did you tee tee in your car?” I guess to a three year old, that’s what it means to have an accident. If only I had tee teed in my car. Would’ve been a lot cheaper.
1. WHY is it that Donald Trump is trying to run for President?! Does he really believe he has a shot in hell of being elected? He’s not used to people telling him no. How would that go over in dealing with Congress? Other world leaders? Would he simply “fire” Ghadhafi and expect all of those problems to go away? He’s not qualified to be our president. He’s not reasonable enough to be our president. And if, for no other reason, I would not vote for him because he doesn’t have sense enough to abandon that ridiculous hair. That, more than anything else, proves he is incapable of leading this country.
2. WHY are people buying tickets to Charlie Sheen’s Torpedo of Truth tour? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?? It is bad enough that we must be kept abreast of his every move via the media, but for people to actually be interested in what this man has to say – it’s ludicrous! Last year I was ranting about being disgusted that Kate Gosselin was all over the place and that we were all expected to care about her. The interest in her has (thankfully) waned, but unfortunately has been replaced by interested in him. And he’s CRAZY. Or high. Or both. We shouldn’t listen to him. We should shut him up and hope that someone gets him some help. The fact that Japan could have a tsunami that could kill thousands of people and he would make the cover of People Magazine is a sad, sad commentary on what we think is worth our time and attention.
3. WHY is every song now sung by someone and “feat.” someone else? Half of the top 10 songs on I-Tunes are sung by one artist but “feat.” someone usually with a completely ridiculous name. All these hip-hop artists have the most absurd names. Big Boi, Mista F.A.B, Sista Soulja, Ludacris (which I actually think is clever since his actual name is Chris), Acafool (that is not a typo), Sticky Fingaz, Flo’Rida (he’s actually from Florida! Who knew?!) Killa Priest, etc. Then there’s C-Murder. This guy’s not even trying. No clever innuendo. No double entendre. He just goes straight to C-Murder. Perhaps we don't have long to wait before becoming acquainted with MC-Drugs or J-Gun Violence. C-Murder?! That’s not clever at all. It’s not a witty pun. It’s not a krazy spelling. It doesn’t mean anything – just… C-Murder. Sounds like a charming young man. Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, C-Murder.
I think these names are so silly and in a lot of cases so violent. Their names need to evoke more positive images than murder and mayhem - especially during these tough times that are upon us. Here are some of my suggestions:
Skippy Meadows
C-Kittens
Chair I Tee
Mista Rogers
Sunny Fancypants
Anything but C-Murder. What a downer!
4. WHY is everyone so fascinated by the upcoming royal wedding? Newsflash people: They are not our royal family. And monarchies are silly and archaic anyway. What do we care about Prince William and Kate Middleton? I hope they have a happy marriage, but I hope that for anyone getting married. Aside from that, I don’t much care about it. I don’t want to know her wedding workout regimen. I don’t want to buy a commemorative plate with their faces on it. I don’t want to win a replica of her ring. I don’t plan to watch it on TV. I plan to wake up that day and go through my normal routine. My life won’t change when they get married. Will yours? And if it will, what is wrong with you?!
5. WHY do I always have to pee ten times before going to bed? I think it’s a mental thing – this irrational fear that as soon as I get comfortable and on the verge of sleep, I’ll have to pee. So instead of ever getting comfortable, I just have to get up and pee several times. It also happens whenever I go snow skiing. I’ll get all bundled up in my 17 layers of clothing and then have to take it all off (or pull it down – whatever) and go to the bathroom. Very annoying. Another weird fact about my bladder (since you asked and all…) is that whenever I am hiding from someone, it instantly makes me have to pee. Not that I hide from people regularly (that kind of makes me sound like a freak) but even as a kid if I was playing hide and seek, I would go hide in the closet and almost wet my pants. It happens today if I am playing with the kids. Does that make me weird? Have I over-shared?
6. WHY is it that when I give up chips (except for chips in a Mexican restaurant – I have to have an “out”) for Lent as I have done this year, every room I walk into smells like Fritos? Or Cheetos? Or Doritos? Or tasty Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles? Or Barbecue Lays? Or Funyuns? I can smell these beautiful smells everywhere and yet, I cannot indulge. After Easter, I know it will go away and every room will begin smelling like stale breath and/or feet again. Isn’t that how it always works?
7. WHY are so many people still being diagnosed with and, in many cases, dying of cancer? One of Mike’s friends has Stage 4 cancer; one of my friends has Stage 2 colon cancer. Two of my work friends have very close family members who are incurable. And, of course, you all know a person or people who have it or have had it. So many young people are being diagnosed, too. What is going on? And all of these people who are stealing identities and creating super viruses that can make your computer explode – what would happen if they used their brains for good instead of evil? Might we be closer to a cure if the number of bad people out there made choices to do something positive for someone else? I hate people who are smart enough to make a positive contribution and then do the opposite. I hate them.
8. WHO (oops! Not a WHY question, but important nonetheless) creates all of the Apps (I hate that word, but I’d sound like a geek if I called them Applications) available for your I-Phone? Who has that kind of time? Who thought, “Dammit! I’m going to create a game where you use a slingshot to hurl a bunch of pissed off birds toward some pigs so they can blow them up!” We haven’t cured cancer but we have Angry Birds. Not that Angry Birds is completely unnecessary. It is nice to have some mindless entertainment. But who thinks of these things? I have no idea why these things are necessary, but apparently to millions of people (myself included) they are. How did we ever survive before Doodle Jump?
9. WHY do people seem to always create a walkway right in front of me when I’m standing in a line? It never fails. If I am in a large crowd and people are trying to push their way through, they will always walk over to where I’m standing and squeeze in between me and whoever is standing next to me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m fairly small and people assume they can just bulldoze right past me and I won’t be able to do much about it, but whatever it is, it’s annoying. I will purposely not make eye contact with people because I know they’ll think it gives them license to use me as a walkway. Even without acknowledging me, they’ll still choose either right in front of me or right in back of me to make their way to wherever it is they are going. Every time.
10. WHY are so many air traffic controllers falling asleep on the job right now? I work for a manufacturing company. If you are caught sleeping, you get fired. There’s just too much machinery and too many dangers to yourself and to others if you sleep. The odds of a person falling asleep and something horrible happening are obviously extremely low, but it’s important to note nonetheless. Now, if your job is solely to keep things flowing safely and smoothly – arrivals, departures – and keep the air traffic… well, controlled, then I would think you would also be fired for falling asleep on the job. These people who have been in the news lately for doing just that are being suspended when they get caught. Suspended! That’s it! If I’m an air traffic controller and I fall asleep, I am risking the lives of at least one entire plane full of people, people on the ground, etc.
Also where I work, good attendance is a requirement for your job. A colleague of mine was in an Unemployment hearing for an associate who we had terminated for poor attendance. The hearing officer actually asked my colleague if the terminated employee had been made aware that attendance was a requirement of the job. We all joked about it at the time – if a person doesn’t realize that showing up is a crucial part of the job, what is the world coming to?! Similarly, if I’m an air traffic controller, I’m thinking at the very least I should be awake. I mean, these people don’t seem to have an attendance problem. But the problem is, they are not conscious when they are on the job – another crucial piece to, I dare say, just about any job out there. What is going on? And why were these people merely suspended? If they have no more regard for the lives in their care, they don’t deserve to have their jobs. What I want to know is, why this happening so much right now? Are these air traffic contollers just inexplicably passing out on their jobs or has this been happening all along and the media is only now becoming aware of it?
11. WHY do kids instinctively know that "potty words" as we call them in our household are so funny? My kids talk and giggle about their bottoms/hineys, poop, their ba-ginas, their beeboos (boobies), tee tee and tooting ALL THE TIME. We've tried to not draw attention to these words for fear of giving them a stigma and making them more attractive to our girls, but that doesn't seem to matter. They proudly use those words - in mixed company or not - and just laugh their little bottoms/hineys off. They'll ask to see my bottom (big mistake, girls, for this is a preview of what yours will look like one day and it aint pretty) and want to touch my beeboos because they know its silly and naughty. How did they turn out this way? When does innocence go away? Apparerntly as early as age three.
And finally...
12. WHY is it that at a time when I am focused on how much money I am spending I choose that exact moment to wreck my car? (Let me clarify here – it’s not that I normally just wildly spend money. I don’t at all. But, I am more tuned in to what we are spending these days because we have made a few renovations to our lake house and we have to furnish a couple of new rooms, etc.) I was driving on this little country road on the way to go get supplies from Lowe’s on Saturday when out darts this ratty looking cat. I don’t even like cats (except Lola, Mary) and yet my instinct was to do a hard swerve to avoid hitting it and ran into a construction sign on the side of the road demolishing my front right tire and side mirror and tearing a huge gash in the body of my car. This (probably) stray cat – whose life is probably worth less than $10 – will now cost us who knows how many thousands of dollars in repairs. And all while I am trying to be contentious of money. That’s what I get for worrying about what I’m spending. I won’t make that mistake again.
A funny side note – My three year old asked me where my car was since I was driving her daddy’s car. I told her I had had an accident in mine and couldn’t drive it. She turned to me and asked, very concerned, “Did you tee tee in your car?” I guess to a three year old, that’s what it means to have an accident. If only I had tee teed in my car. Would’ve been a lot cheaper.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
I Hate Atlanta
Damn you, Atlanta. You with your smug arts and never-ending assortment of things to do. And damn your constant road work and crazy drivers. For they make it impossible for me to make good time while traveling.
As if there wasn’t already enough to do in Atlanta, they just had to go and build an enormous aquarium that makes Chattanooga’s look like a project I could have done for a middle school science fair. Why? Why would they build the one thing that actually draws people to Chattanooga (other than the underwhelming Choo-Choo and Ruby Falls) and do it bigger and better? Do you realize that all we have now is Rock City? And if you’ve seen Rock City once (as countless billboards and painted barns along the interstate advise you to do), you’ve seen it 100 times. Big whoop.
I went to Atlanta (I refuse to refer to it by the hipper, more popular “the A-T-L” that the cool kids use) this weekend with one of my daughters to meet up with my sister and her son who was in a hip hop dance competition (Go, Jack!). We decided to spend our afternoon Saturday doing something Atlanta-ish. We’d not been to their aquarium before so we decided we’d go.
The aquarium was, of course, fine. It was big and nice and had a better diversity of things to see than does the one in Chattanooga. They had whales – whales! – and all kinds of neat things that Chattanooga’s doesn’t… blah, blah, blah. But I was completely irritated before we ever even got there because…well, because I was in Atlanta.
I was driving along minding my own business enjoying a nice, sunny day on the open road. Kate and I were excited to see Mary and Jack. Spring was in almost full bloom around us. It had the makings of a nice day. I even began to think that perhaps I’d get through Atlanta without getting held up in any typical Atlanta crazy traffic.
Wrong.
As I began to descend on the city, there was a lighted billboard that advised that up ahead on 75 South – right where I was going - there was road work that had closed three left lanes (a city is too damn big if there are three left lanes, by the way). My cheerful mood began to dissipate as I saw the sea of red tail lights I was headed straight toward. So, as it usually goes whenever I have to go to or through Atlanta, I got stopped and I sat. And I waited. And I sat. And I waited. And I sat. And I cursed – but internally so Kate wouldn’t learn any new colorful words.
One of the most telling things about Atlanta traffic is a story I like to tell about my experience there several years ago. I was on Peachtree Road over by Lenox Mall and it was just bumper to bumper with nobody moving and everyone getting frustrated. As we inched along, I noticed the entire front bumper (including a UGA license plate) of a car, just sitting there in the road. What that tells me is that someone was involved in a fender-bender in which the front half of their car fell off and they simply said, “to hell with it” and kept driving just so they could get home. I mean seriously – would you not get out of your car and survey the damage? Of course you would. But this was Atlanta. This guy just made an executive decision to leave half of his car in the road just so he could get the hell out of the traffic. Aaaaah, Atlanta.
Of course, on the interstate you had the typical people who thought they were somehow exempt from the road signs who just kept barreling on ahead to try and sneakily merge into the right lane at the last minute. Who are the idiots who let these obnoxious people over? I have a rule that if I leave room for you to get over and you pass it by thinking you’ve got a better deal up ahead, I will do everything within my power to see that you are afforded no such opportunity again. If you pass me when I’ve offered you a coveted spot in front of me, then as God as my witness you are NOT going to try and get in front of me when you run out of road, you selfish bastard. I get so annoyed when people let these people in at the last minute. It doesn’t even register with these do-gooders that they are enabling these inconsiderate drivers to continue to do this in the future.
Then you had the constant lane-changers who kept darting back and forth between lanes thinking they’d somehow get to the next mile marker faster if they could just identify the winning lane. At the rate we were going (which was 5mph), we were all pretty much going to get there at the same time. We didn’t all need to live in fear that someone was about to zip out right in front of us and cause an accident. Had these people not been to Atlanta before? Were they not expecting massive gridlock? Did they not realize that when they dashed into the other lane causing four or five cars to slam on their brakes that they were actually slowing the entire process down? Morons.
So, I finally got through the road work and came upon the exit that was supposed to take me right to the Aquarium. I can see a light change up ahead and only about 3 cars manage to get through before it turns red again. I’m thinking there must be a wreck ahead. But then I see another billboard. Apparently the WWE was having some kind of major event right next to where I wanted to go. While I was appreciative to not have this gathering of rednecks in Chattanooga, WHY did it have to be going on in Atlanta the one day I was there? Atlanta has a bazillion things to do - why on earth is it necessary to have the WWE in town? But in town they were, so it took another 20 minutes just to turn right off of the interstate. My blood was boiling at this point because for much of the past 45 minutes to an hour I could see exactly where I needed to go up ahead, I just couldn’t get there. I wanted to scream but had to stifle it so Kate wouldn’t learn any of the aforementioned colorful words.
So, we went to the Aquarium and it was bigger, newer and nicer than the one we have in Chattanooga. I was annoyed because people didn’t need another reason to go to Atlanta. There's already plenty to do there. There was no need to compete with Chattanooga. You won. We get it. What’s next? “Boulder Town” to rival Rock City? “Red Waters” to rival Ruby Falls? Grrrr. Why couldn’t you have just left us alone? What have we ever done to you?
The ride home on Sunday was just as bad. We got caught in the same construction going north so it took us forever to get out of the city and on our way back to Chattanooga. The good news is that because the traffic happened early in our trek, I was over being angry and irritated about an hour into the trip. The rest of the ride home was fairly uneventful – since not very many people were trying to get to Chattanooga (they were all going to Atlanta where there are neat things to do!). And just when I was thinking how nice it was to be back in a city that was more reasonably sized with the right amount of people (and left lanes), we got stuck in standstill traffic. For almost 45 minutes. Grrrrr.
As if there wasn’t already enough to do in Atlanta, they just had to go and build an enormous aquarium that makes Chattanooga’s look like a project I could have done for a middle school science fair. Why? Why would they build the one thing that actually draws people to Chattanooga (other than the underwhelming Choo-Choo and Ruby Falls) and do it bigger and better? Do you realize that all we have now is Rock City? And if you’ve seen Rock City once (as countless billboards and painted barns along the interstate advise you to do), you’ve seen it 100 times. Big whoop.
I went to Atlanta (I refuse to refer to it by the hipper, more popular “the A-T-L” that the cool kids use) this weekend with one of my daughters to meet up with my sister and her son who was in a hip hop dance competition (Go, Jack!). We decided to spend our afternoon Saturday doing something Atlanta-ish. We’d not been to their aquarium before so we decided we’d go.
The aquarium was, of course, fine. It was big and nice and had a better diversity of things to see than does the one in Chattanooga. They had whales – whales! – and all kinds of neat things that Chattanooga’s doesn’t… blah, blah, blah. But I was completely irritated before we ever even got there because…well, because I was in Atlanta.
I was driving along minding my own business enjoying a nice, sunny day on the open road. Kate and I were excited to see Mary and Jack. Spring was in almost full bloom around us. It had the makings of a nice day. I even began to think that perhaps I’d get through Atlanta without getting held up in any typical Atlanta crazy traffic.
Wrong.
As I began to descend on the city, there was a lighted billboard that advised that up ahead on 75 South – right where I was going - there was road work that had closed three left lanes (a city is too damn big if there are three left lanes, by the way). My cheerful mood began to dissipate as I saw the sea of red tail lights I was headed straight toward. So, as it usually goes whenever I have to go to or through Atlanta, I got stopped and I sat. And I waited. And I sat. And I waited. And I sat. And I cursed – but internally so Kate wouldn’t learn any new colorful words.
One of the most telling things about Atlanta traffic is a story I like to tell about my experience there several years ago. I was on Peachtree Road over by Lenox Mall and it was just bumper to bumper with nobody moving and everyone getting frustrated. As we inched along, I noticed the entire front bumper (including a UGA license plate) of a car, just sitting there in the road. What that tells me is that someone was involved in a fender-bender in which the front half of their car fell off and they simply said, “to hell with it” and kept driving just so they could get home. I mean seriously – would you not get out of your car and survey the damage? Of course you would. But this was Atlanta. This guy just made an executive decision to leave half of his car in the road just so he could get the hell out of the traffic. Aaaaah, Atlanta.
Of course, on the interstate you had the typical people who thought they were somehow exempt from the road signs who just kept barreling on ahead to try and sneakily merge into the right lane at the last minute. Who are the idiots who let these obnoxious people over? I have a rule that if I leave room for you to get over and you pass it by thinking you’ve got a better deal up ahead, I will do everything within my power to see that you are afforded no such opportunity again. If you pass me when I’ve offered you a coveted spot in front of me, then as God as my witness you are NOT going to try and get in front of me when you run out of road, you selfish bastard. I get so annoyed when people let these people in at the last minute. It doesn’t even register with these do-gooders that they are enabling these inconsiderate drivers to continue to do this in the future.
Then you had the constant lane-changers who kept darting back and forth between lanes thinking they’d somehow get to the next mile marker faster if they could just identify the winning lane. At the rate we were going (which was 5mph), we were all pretty much going to get there at the same time. We didn’t all need to live in fear that someone was about to zip out right in front of us and cause an accident. Had these people not been to Atlanta before? Were they not expecting massive gridlock? Did they not realize that when they dashed into the other lane causing four or five cars to slam on their brakes that they were actually slowing the entire process down? Morons.
So, I finally got through the road work and came upon the exit that was supposed to take me right to the Aquarium. I can see a light change up ahead and only about 3 cars manage to get through before it turns red again. I’m thinking there must be a wreck ahead. But then I see another billboard. Apparently the WWE was having some kind of major event right next to where I wanted to go. While I was appreciative to not have this gathering of rednecks in Chattanooga, WHY did it have to be going on in Atlanta the one day I was there? Atlanta has a bazillion things to do - why on earth is it necessary to have the WWE in town? But in town they were, so it took another 20 minutes just to turn right off of the interstate. My blood was boiling at this point because for much of the past 45 minutes to an hour I could see exactly where I needed to go up ahead, I just couldn’t get there. I wanted to scream but had to stifle it so Kate wouldn’t learn any of the aforementioned colorful words.
So, we went to the Aquarium and it was bigger, newer and nicer than the one we have in Chattanooga. I was annoyed because people didn’t need another reason to go to Atlanta. There's already plenty to do there. There was no need to compete with Chattanooga. You won. We get it. What’s next? “Boulder Town” to rival Rock City? “Red Waters” to rival Ruby Falls? Grrrr. Why couldn’t you have just left us alone? What have we ever done to you?
The ride home on Sunday was just as bad. We got caught in the same construction going north so it took us forever to get out of the city and on our way back to Chattanooga. The good news is that because the traffic happened early in our trek, I was over being angry and irritated about an hour into the trip. The rest of the ride home was fairly uneventful – since not very many people were trying to get to Chattanooga (they were all going to Atlanta where there are neat things to do!). And just when I was thinking how nice it was to be back in a city that was more reasonably sized with the right amount of people (and left lanes), we got stuck in standstill traffic. For almost 45 minutes. Grrrrr.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Food, Glorious Food!
Here it is the end of March and I haven’t updated this silly thing all year. The truth is, there has been NOTHING to write about. No funny stories. No interesting observations. No witty sarcasm. But Maggie, you may be thinking, you’ve never written about any of that stuff before either. How right you are! Things around here have been pretty dull since the weather has been so slow to change to spring. It’s been cold and rainy/snowy and no one has really done much of anything. But I now have something that I feel may make for decent reading. So here goes.
Since the last week of January, I have been following a newdiet nutrition plan. I refuse to call it a “diet” because I do not believe in diets. I think most if not all diets are unhealthy in some way (Eat tons of fat but no bread! Only eat grapefruit! Only sniff ketchup as your breakfast!) They just seem to set you up for failure because you are cutting something totally out of your diet. And obviously you liked eating it because it wouldn’t have been in your diet otherwise. So, you cut it out and lose a few pounds. Then once you hit your target you start eating it again and wonder why you’ve gained all of your weight back. I just think you can only be successful if you eat the things you want in moderation and make more positive than negative choices.
So, here we are on March 30th, 9 weeks into this exercise and I have lost a total of twelve pounds (and a few ounces!!). I have surpassed my original goal of ten pounds. My husband, who has done this with me, has also gotten down to his goal. Now for me, weight loss is not the ultimate goal. Yes, I needed to lose some weight. But the real goal is to be healthy and not eat a bunch of junk. I also have had high cholesterol for about five years no and I know it is due to the stuff I eat. So, at work, there is a program that others have had long-term success with, so I thought I’d give it a shot. The upside to thisdiet nutrition plan is that there are classes each week that teach you how foods break down in your body and how to pair foods together to maximize fat burning. The other plus for this diet nutrition plan is that it is a program which understands that you like pizza. And tacos. And cheeseburgers. And bacon. And potato chips. And beer. And sausage. And ice cream. And ribeyes. And fried chicken. And cookies. And… you get the point. It allows you to have days where you blow your diet to hell for roughly two days a week which, frankly, is the only way I’d ever be successful.
Now, I am not writing this to be an advocate for this particulardiet nutrition plan or to detract from any other program you may be on. I’m just telling you it’s the only diet nutrition plan I have ever heard of that actually appears to be healthy and actually gets sustainable results. If any of you want to talk with me about my experience I’ll be glad to do that, but I’m certainly not trying to drum up business for them. They can do that on their own.
What I do want to tell you about is what I have discovered about my relationship with food. That relationship is, in a word, unhealthy. I never knew how much I think about food, plan my meals, go out of my way for something good to eat, and associate “fun” with eating until I began limiting the bad things I was eating. I learned this because the first week of thisdiet nutrition plan is fairly restrictive. You basically only eat lean proteins and fibrous carbohydrates for 7 days before you begin adding back in the other things. So, I was staring down 7 days of eating nothing but chicken, fish, salads and vegetables. How did it go?
Well, on day two, I considered going out into the woods to hunt down and kill a wild boar, feast on his sweet, juicy meat, and then pick my teeth with one of his ribs. Not because I was hungry. I really wasn’t. The protein was filling me up. But I just missed the gluttonous meals to which I had become accustomed. I mentioned earlier that thisdiet nutrition plan allows you to blow it two days a week. As it turns out, I was blowing it two times a day.
My old way of doing things was that I would start out with my very healthy breakfast of yogurt and a piece of fruit. Then, if I was at work, I would start emailing people around 9:30 to firm up my lunch plans. I looked at lunch as my most important appointment of the day. It was a win-win: I got to eat a bunch of yummy food and hang out with my friends. I used to be so annoyed with my friends who were following thisdiet nutrition plan when I would ask them to lunch and they would decline because they had brought their lunch. Or even worse – if they accepted and then ate fish and steamed vegetables while I drenched my chicken fingers in ranch dressing. What were they trying to prove, anyway?
If I wasn’t at work, it meant I was at home with my daughter running errands and usually grabbing something to eat while I was out. She likes grilled cheese and chicken nuggets and quesadillas and such, so we’d always go somewhere where she could get that. And if I’m out, I’m going to order something good, so I’d eat like that, too. In fact, I’d plan my errands around what restaurants they were close to. I never realized I did that until I decided I wouldn’t eat like that anymore. You know what happened? I lost all interest in running errands. Even fun errands like clothes shopping. What’s the point if I can’t go to Moe’s after I buy a pair of pants to replace the ones I’ve grown out of?
So that would be lunch on any given day. For dinner, we’d eat out a lot. My husband would joke that if I told him it was time to eat, he’d start loading the kids into their car seats. The truth was, we would eat out a lot. I discovered through thisdiet nutrition plan that one of the reasons we’d eat out so often is because at around 2:00 in the afternoon, I’d start thinking about pizza or Mexican. I’d begin to crave it and before I knew it would have committed myself to a plan that involved either picking it up or going out and eating it. It was strange that I’d even be thinking of food so early because I would have stuffed myself at lunch and still be miserably full at that time. My portions were not what a reasonable person would or should eat. They’d serve me my lunch at a restaurant and I’d think Oh my goodness that’s way too much food. Yet, I’d clean my plate every time.
On the rare occasion that I would actually cook something for dinner, it was usually something unhealthy. If I made it, it was convenient to make. If it’s convenient to make, odds are it’s full of things that are very unhealthy. Sometimes, though, I would decide that I should be sure my children had not lost their ability to recognize vegetables and I would fix “chicken and vegetables”. When I decided to fix this for dinner, I’d get depressed about it as soon as I’d finish my lunch. Nothing to look forward to for dinner… And I’d always be sure that chicken and vegetables included a corn casserole or some kind of side dish that was full of butter, or cream-of-whatever soup or something fatty to make it tasty. So even on the nights we were eating in and eating "healthy", we weren’t eating healthy. And on top of that, I wasn’t satisfied because what I really wanted was a chili dog.
So going back to that first week, it was a shock to me how bummed I was because I knew I wasn’t going to get to eat anything I wanted until the weekend. (I had decided to allow myself to blow it on the weekends from the beginning.) Food consumed my every thought. And when I say “consumed”, I am well aware that I have chosen a word that is very closely identified with food. I was at work one day and we were throwing out ideas about how to get some members of our team more engaged. I started thinking to myself about having roundtable meetings for these associates early in the morning. Before I knew it, I was thinking about getting Chik-fil-A to cater breakfast biscuits for everyone. My mind immediately went to the social nature of eating and how that was the glue that would hold us all together. I was so fixated on food that I was using it as a means to have a meeting. Forget the content of the meeting. I really wasn’t thinking about that at all. I was thinking about and salivating over chicken biscuits. In the early days of following thisdiet nutrition plan, I found myself doing that a lot. I discovered that I largely associate food with EVERYTHING. And I did it all the time.
On the second day – the please let me kill and eat a wild boar day I like to call it – if my husband had said, “let’s quit” I would have in a minute. I was almost depressed about not being able to eat something big and nasty. We had a sitter for the kids one night and my thought was, well what’s the point of going out? We can’t eat anything good… And in my mind, I was struggling with thoughts of I’m never going to enjoy food again!!!!.
But as I stuck with it – and I’m proud of myself for sticking with it; it’s very un-Maggie-like – I began to notice that if I could make it through the week on healthy foods, I’d be okay and would celebrate on the weekends. As more time passed, I celebrated less on the weekends. Now, I didn’t cut out the burgers and junk food altogether on the weekends. But I also wasn’t doing that at every meal. In other words, I began to feel a little guilty for just going hog (there’s that wild boar again) wild on Saturday and Sunday. I was getting results (didn’t have to stuff myself into my pants and squat for several minutes at a time as much) and so I wanted that to continue.
As things stand today, I have dropped two pants sizes and have lost more than 15 inches all over my body. My entire family is eating healthier foods on a regular basis. My kids like squash and broccoli. Who knew?! And that’s just since the last week of January. I’ve seen thisdiet nutrition plan work for others and I can attest to the fact that it does work if you are committed to it. I am not as tired. I am more alert. I am exercising more (healthy patterns tend to develop when you are getting results in one area). And I’ve been able to go out and get some new clothes and not feel guilty about it – I can’t wear many of my old clothes!
So, what is the lesson here? Well, there’s not one. I’m not here to educate you. I’m here to entertain you (in case that wasn’t obvious). But I will say that I don’t think I’m the only one obsessed with food. Most TV commercials are about restaurant offerings (and erectile dysfunction remedies, but I can't help ya there). There are billboards everywhere picturing plump, glistening cheeseburgers. Food is everywhere. And our country is fat. No one has time to commit to changing their lifestyle. But I’m here to tell you that I changed mine. And I’m not one to commit to anything that requires a lot of work. Or thought. Or energy. Or time. Or planning. And other than that second day, it has been relatively easy. And I’ve been satisfied with what I’m eating as well as the results I’ve seen.
I weighed in today just to see how it was going. The last time I weighed, I had lost almost 10 pounds. That was two weeks ago. I ate like a pig last weekend. I stepped onto the scale just to see how I was doing and discovered that I had lost just over two more pounds. Some habits are hard to break – when I saw this the first thing I did was consider getting a chili dog for dinner. I even texted my husband and sort of jokingly said that’s what I wanted to do to celebrate my weight loss. If he had agreed, guess what I’d be eating for dinner.
Since the last week of January, I have been following a new
So, here we are on March 30th, 9 weeks into this exercise and I have lost a total of twelve pounds (and a few ounces!!). I have surpassed my original goal of ten pounds. My husband, who has done this with me, has also gotten down to his goal. Now for me, weight loss is not the ultimate goal. Yes, I needed to lose some weight. But the real goal is to be healthy and not eat a bunch of junk. I also have had high cholesterol for about five years no and I know it is due to the stuff I eat. So, at work, there is a program that others have had long-term success with, so I thought I’d give it a shot. The upside to this
Now, I am not writing this to be an advocate for this particular
What I do want to tell you about is what I have discovered about my relationship with food. That relationship is, in a word, unhealthy. I never knew how much I think about food, plan my meals, go out of my way for something good to eat, and associate “fun” with eating until I began limiting the bad things I was eating. I learned this because the first week of this
Well, on day two, I considered going out into the woods to hunt down and kill a wild boar, feast on his sweet, juicy meat, and then pick my teeth with one of his ribs. Not because I was hungry. I really wasn’t. The protein was filling me up. But I just missed the gluttonous meals to which I had become accustomed. I mentioned earlier that this
My old way of doing things was that I would start out with my very healthy breakfast of yogurt and a piece of fruit. Then, if I was at work, I would start emailing people around 9:30 to firm up my lunch plans. I looked at lunch as my most important appointment of the day. It was a win-win: I got to eat a bunch of yummy food and hang out with my friends. I used to be so annoyed with my friends who were following this
If I wasn’t at work, it meant I was at home with my daughter running errands and usually grabbing something to eat while I was out. She likes grilled cheese and chicken nuggets and quesadillas and such, so we’d always go somewhere where she could get that. And if I’m out, I’m going to order something good, so I’d eat like that, too. In fact, I’d plan my errands around what restaurants they were close to. I never realized I did that until I decided I wouldn’t eat like that anymore. You know what happened? I lost all interest in running errands. Even fun errands like clothes shopping. What’s the point if I can’t go to Moe’s after I buy a pair of pants to replace the ones I’ve grown out of?
So that would be lunch on any given day. For dinner, we’d eat out a lot. My husband would joke that if I told him it was time to eat, he’d start loading the kids into their car seats. The truth was, we would eat out a lot. I discovered through this
On the rare occasion that I would actually cook something for dinner, it was usually something unhealthy. If I made it, it was convenient to make. If it’s convenient to make, odds are it’s full of things that are very unhealthy. Sometimes, though, I would decide that I should be sure my children had not lost their ability to recognize vegetables and I would fix “chicken and vegetables”. When I decided to fix this for dinner, I’d get depressed about it as soon as I’d finish my lunch. Nothing to look forward to for dinner… And I’d always be sure that chicken and vegetables included a corn casserole or some kind of side dish that was full of butter, or cream-of-whatever soup or something fatty to make it tasty. So even on the nights we were eating in and eating "healthy", we weren’t eating healthy. And on top of that, I wasn’t satisfied because what I really wanted was a chili dog.
So going back to that first week, it was a shock to me how bummed I was because I knew I wasn’t going to get to eat anything I wanted until the weekend. (I had decided to allow myself to blow it on the weekends from the beginning.) Food consumed my every thought. And when I say “consumed”, I am well aware that I have chosen a word that is very closely identified with food. I was at work one day and we were throwing out ideas about how to get some members of our team more engaged. I started thinking to myself about having roundtable meetings for these associates early in the morning. Before I knew it, I was thinking about getting Chik-fil-A to cater breakfast biscuits for everyone. My mind immediately went to the social nature of eating and how that was the glue that would hold us all together. I was so fixated on food that I was using it as a means to have a meeting. Forget the content of the meeting. I really wasn’t thinking about that at all. I was thinking about and salivating over chicken biscuits. In the early days of following this
On the second day – the please let me kill and eat a wild boar day I like to call it – if my husband had said, “let’s quit” I would have in a minute. I was almost depressed about not being able to eat something big and nasty. We had a sitter for the kids one night and my thought was, well what’s the point of going out? We can’t eat anything good… And in my mind, I was struggling with thoughts of I’m never going to enjoy food again!!!!.
But as I stuck with it – and I’m proud of myself for sticking with it; it’s very un-Maggie-like – I began to notice that if I could make it through the week on healthy foods, I’d be okay and would celebrate on the weekends. As more time passed, I celebrated less on the weekends. Now, I didn’t cut out the burgers and junk food altogether on the weekends. But I also wasn’t doing that at every meal. In other words, I began to feel a little guilty for just going hog (there’s that wild boar again) wild on Saturday and Sunday. I was getting results (didn’t have to stuff myself into my pants and squat for several minutes at a time as much) and so I wanted that to continue.
As things stand today, I have dropped two pants sizes and have lost more than 15 inches all over my body. My entire family is eating healthier foods on a regular basis. My kids like squash and broccoli. Who knew?! And that’s just since the last week of January. I’ve seen this
So, what is the lesson here? Well, there’s not one. I’m not here to educate you. I’m here to entertain you (in case that wasn’t obvious). But I will say that I don’t think I’m the only one obsessed with food. Most TV commercials are about restaurant offerings (and erectile dysfunction remedies, but I can't help ya there). There are billboards everywhere picturing plump, glistening cheeseburgers. Food is everywhere. And our country is fat. No one has time to commit to changing their lifestyle. But I’m here to tell you that I changed mine. And I’m not one to commit to anything that requires a lot of work. Or thought. Or energy. Or time. Or planning. And other than that second day, it has been relatively easy. And I’ve been satisfied with what I’m eating as well as the results I’ve seen.
I weighed in today just to see how it was going. The last time I weighed, I had lost almost 10 pounds. That was two weeks ago. I ate like a pig last weekend. I stepped onto the scale just to see how I was doing and discovered that I had lost just over two more pounds. Some habits are hard to break – when I saw this the first thing I did was consider getting a chili dog for dinner. I even texted my husband and sort of jokingly said that’s what I wanted to do to celebrate my weight loss. If he had agreed, guess what I’d be eating for dinner.
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