Archive for December, 2008

You Shouldn’t Have

Saturday, December 27th, 2008

There is no joy in receiving a gift from someone when you know they can’t afford to give it to you.  I hate how the holidays create this air of obligation between close friends and family members to produce a trinket or coin in order to show love and appreciation.  Times are tough for lots of people and it crushes me some are choosing gift giving over a meal or bills.  How bad does the economy need to get for people to divorce themselves from the retail aspect of holidays and special occasions?

Robbed

Sunday, December 21st, 2008

I’ve been robbed.  Toys, books and clothes are strewn all over my living room.  The perpetrators left nothing untouched.  Somewhere under all of my kids’ worldly possessions is carpet.  I’ve seen it before, so I know it is there.  Law enforcement won’t have a hard time nabbing the unlawful duo.  Finger prints are smeared everywhere.  Silly robbers were careless enough to adorn their fingers with a cheese substance so their prints stick out like beacons of justice.  Once these two are caught, I’d like to have them investigated for early crimes that remain unsolved.  This wasn’t the first robbery my house has seen.  In the past 2 1/2 years I have been robbed of my heart, sleep, patience, indifference, mental capacity and boredom.  Yep, I’m going to give these burglars a piece of my mind, what’s left of it, and tell them how grateful I am for all they have taken from me and how much fuller I am for it all.

Puhhhhleeeeeeez

Thursday, December 18th, 2008

The attorney of the disgraced Governor of Illinois is arguing the wiretaps that captured the esteemed Blagojevich’s finest moments were illegal.  Ah, okay.  So we now know the Governor is a corrupt idiot, but we aren’t supposed to know, so we should just play dumb and move forward?  You’d have to be a real winner to be comfortable remaining in office with the argument “I may really be an idiot, but since you didn’t prove it in a legal way, I am in the clear.”  Good grief.  He want’s the good people of Illinois to support him on a technicality?  Puhhhhleeeeeeez.  Face it Blagojevich, your political career is in the can.  Whether or not you can be held accountable for a crime, it’s time to bow out gracefully.  Have some dignity.  Start a new life in Vegas as a Travolta impersonator. You clearly like pretending to be someone important.

Being a Politician for Dummies

Friday, December 12th, 2008

The past few months have been a nauseating reminder of the caliber of individual who tends to seek out political office.  The sad part is, so many incidents of idiocy could be prevented with some basic cliff notes for politicians.  They rely on prepared speeches for addresses and public commentary.  That’s why they usually sound so intelligent, fair and upstanding.  It stands to reason they would require a resource for the do’s and don’t do’s of life as an elected official.  I think the publisher of those ‘Dummies’ books needs to get on the stick with this one.  They’ve already done “Politics for Dummies”, but that really just helps those of us who aren’t politicians figure out the process and get to the root of what candidates and our elected officials are about.  Politicians themselves have been neglected and there is apparently no greater dummy in this world in need of some instruction.

I have a few suggestions of what should be included in the book.

  • If you require an unusually wide stance for ‘going #2’, opt for the handicapped stall in the airport restroom as it is easier to explain a rectal disability than your foot dancing up a possible gigolos ankle.
  • If relations with a hooker are essential to your well being, be sure your booty call fee includes partial rights to the book and screen play that will eventually be written about you.
  • If you are only concerned about giving taxpayers the impression you are being responsible with their money and not handing it out willy-nilly part of the time, do it with the $800 billion bailouts and not the $15 billion.
  • If you are corrupt, teach your cronies to speak in Pig Latin so at least it’s not so obvious when you are rying-tay to ell-say a enate-Say eat-say.
  • If you find a young Senate page attractive and are inspired to text him telling him so, be sure to throw in an inquiry if his dad is by chance single.  The page got his looks from somewhere.  Maybe you’ll get lucky and someone your own age will fit the bill.
  • When sharing with the American people how the House of Representatives is working tirelessly to solve a mounting crisis of catastrophic proportions, refrain from wearing a giant pearl choker.  It just looks like you are grinning twice.
  • If a microphone is within 100 yards of you, assume it is on and save any asinine remarks that may be begging for release for the next time you are alone in the shower.

Well, that’s what I have for now.  Anyone who wishes to add to the list is welcome to do so.

Pitiful

Thursday, December 11th, 2008

It takes me forever to finish a health or beauty product.  Usually by the time I get to the end, the stuff I was using is no longer available.  Often a new formula has been developed or the product has been discontinued.

Last week I ran out of my Soft & Dry deodorant and ventured to the store for a replacement.  True to form, the formula I was accustomed to had been improved.  Lucky me.  I purchased the ‘improvement’ and headed for home.  The next day I took the new version for a spin.  Holy satin surprise, was it strong!  My pits raged with fragrance.  Every time I exerted myself it was as if a flower shop had opened for business under my shirt.  I couldn’t sleep that night because I couldn’t find a position where my nose and eyes weren’t itching from the onslaught.

Now that a week has passed I notice my pits a lot less.  I’m no dummy though.  I know the smell is still there.  My body is evolving and tuning out the smell so I can cope and go on with my life.  That doesn’t save the poor unfortunate souls who are in my company during a strenuous or tense moment.  Their noses won’t have the benefit of adaptation.  I’m a bit weirded out over the thought of people being so accutely aware of my underarms.  Don’t get me wrong, I totally prefer a floral explosion over funk.  I just don’t understand what Soft & Dry was trying to accomplish.  Perhaps they’ve been working on a secret project with the Department of Homeland Security to develop a less expensive and more mainstream human lie detector test that could be used on an unsuspecting public?  Lord knows they’ve found a good one.  I suspect if I tell a lie a swarm of bees and butterflies will be making tracks in my direction.  Pitiful.

Sun is Out

Thursday, December 11th, 2008

Just wanted to share the sun is out and the snowball is melting.

Motor City

Wednesday, December 10th, 2008

This morning I woke up to the hum of a motor.  My tired mind was slow to guess the source.  After a few attempts at grinding my ear into my pillow, ‘snow blower’ popped into my head.  My neighbor was up and doing his noble best to clear the massive load of wintery bliss we must have been dealt last night.  Visions of my husband laboring for hours with our tiny shovel danced in my head.  Poor guy.  That’s what we get for moving to Michigan, right?  I crept out of bed to survey the damage.  Parting the blinds I could see my neighbor’s mighty machine having its way with what must have been a 1/2 inch of snow.  A 1/2 inch!!!  He got up at the crack of dawn, piled on tons of clothing and fired up the beast to clear snow I could have blown a way with the breath from an excited conversation.

I have a feeling I’m going to be waking up to the hum of a motor for a good chunk of this winter.  Just as I spent many an afternoon in the fall listening to the motor of a blower any time a leaf dared to fall off a tree.  Detroit isn’t the only Motor City in Michigan.

The One Thing

Wednesday, December 10th, 2008

I spend a lot of time looking for things.  I look for good deals, Olivia’s sunglasses, David’s pacifier, my husband’s wallet, my car keys…the list goes on.  One thing I never have to look for is ‘crazy’.  Crazy always seems to find me on its own.  Maybe it knows I wouldn’t take the time to look for it so its best chance of inserting itself into my life is to ring my doorbell.  Well, this time it didn’t really ring my doorbell.  Thank Gawd!  It sent me an email.  At least crazy won’t be too hard to send packing.

I Can’t Watch

Monday, December 8th, 2008

When I know someone is lying to me it is so hard to just go along with it and watch the fiction unfold.  Yet I don’t get any real satisfaction from calling the junk out on the table.  I’m currently watching one lie topple into another and I feel like I need to cover my eyes and peek through my fingers.  Human nature leaves me wanting to know what happens next, but dang, why can’t people just be honest?  The snowball just keeps getting bigger as it rolls down the hill.  I think it’s time for me to shake the sun out and warm things up a bit.  The sooner I can get the snowball to melt the less damage it will do.

Quivering Lips

Saturday, December 6th, 2008

My 2 1/2 year old daughter has the unique ability to make me angry and hysterical at the same time.  There’s is nothing like trying to be firm and authoritative with a wide-eyed, witty toddler interjecting commentary that makes it impossible to stay mad, let alone keep a straight face.

Yesterday my daughter, who has been potty training for the past few months, intentionally wet her pants.  Mommy wasn’t happy.  I knew she needed to go and yet she stubbornly stuck her chin in the air and informed me she did not.  A minute later her jeans looked like she sat on a sprinkler.  I angrily hauled her into the bathroom, sat her on the thrown and began my lecture of why it is important to be honest with mommy and not dirty her pants.  She sat there staring at my flushed cheeks without an ounce of concern.  Her eyes sparkled at my entertaining performance of The Taming of the Shrew.  When I paused to ask if she understood, she nodded yes and quickly asked “mommy, are you saaaaaaaad?….are you going to cryyyyyyyy?”  She wasn’t worried about my frail disposition.  She was clearly enjoying her mother’s weak grasp on sanity and was excited at the prospect of an emotional climax to it all.  Turkey.  I wanted to throttle her and burst out laughing at exactly the same moment.  I stood there as my lip quivered through a suppressed giggle.  No way was I going to let her see me laugh.

That experience made me wonder why it’s easy for me to mix laughter and anger with my children, but not with anyone else.  If a grown stranger, friend or family member had pulled the same stunt I would have been even angrier.  Somehow my child’s enjoyment of my angst softens instead of hardens.  Perhaps it’s because I know she isn’t being malicious, she’s just being 2.  Still, it would be a lot easier to navigate life if those who make us genuinely angry were capable of giving us a hardy chuckle at the same time.  Quivering with giggles is much better than quivering with rage.