We facebook, email, text (and sext), twitter and blog....when do we call? When do we do coffee or lunch? Well, I still do both, as many of my friends do, as well, but my concern is that we may get to a point where it's awkward to converse face to face. If most people are like me, they are able to say more through one of these forms of communication than in person. We think we're connecting on a deeper level through our written expression. Relationships form and evolve this way( or so we think), and the sex.....it's fantastic! Whether it's naughty, sweet, raunchy or passionate, it's fabulous! You want to do what to me where?? Let's face it, most of us can't live up to what was so beautifully expressed via text. Why ruin a good thing? Who needs to go out on dates anymore? I'd rather forge an exciting relationship in the comfort of my home office or while I'm stuck in rush hour traffic.
Kids are doing it, too. They're on the bus sitting next to their friend and instead of turning to face them and say "Hey, dude," they text "Hey, dude." At parties, they text their girlfriend from across the room to say, " I love your dress, you look hot!" And, we've all heard about the cruelty kids express to others via text, or the photos of body parts they send to one another. I would imagine that many kids will have difficulty verbalizing their thoughts as they mature and enter the work force or dating scene. At least the adults of today had the socialization growing up to be decent communicators.
Some of us still value the business lunch (with a martini, please), or the boardroom meeting with handshakes. Is this going to be a thing of the past for our kids? The bottom line is....there are red flags waving, and we may never see (or hear) in the future the art of the "campfire story,"or the beauty of the verbal compliment.
Times, they are a changin.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Do I Look Stupid?
I've always been a trusting person. I give people the benefit of the doubt. So, when I hire a handyman to do some odd jobs around the house, I expect him to act professionally, and do the job in the way in which it is discussed. Let's say you're the handyman, and in that initial meeting with me, not only am I mentioning several things that need to be done in my home, but I'm also listing things my brother and parents need done in theirs. Wouldn't dollar signs be floating across your brain as you gear up to impress me with your skills and positive attitude? I should hope so, but it didn't happen with this guy.
I asked him to replace my leaking disposal (he was to purchase and install this), tile and grout some missing and broken saltillo tile on my patio, re-grout some areas inside that had chipped away, and re-caulk my bathroom window. I left him, and headed to the gym. I trusted he would take care of everything, and I would return at the end of the job to pay him exactly what we had agreed upon. This is where I acted stupid.
I have an Interior Design background. Wouldn't you think that I would have considered approving the tile and grout color he planned to use? One would assume, yes. And, isn't it typical to want to see the packaging and receipt of the newly purchased disposal? I returned from the gym with my wad of cash, and the first thing I witnessed was the jet black grout color being wiped in between my floor tiles. The existing grout is a medium gray. He said it was wet and even though it wouldn't match perfectly, it would be close. Skeptically, I moved to the next item at hand, the disposal. I examined the piece and admired his installation along with the replacement of pipes (an added bonus, not discussed). Feeling a little more confident in my man, I walked out back to observe the completely WRONG tile installed next to my authentic Mexican tile. This was thinner, not rounded, a darker color, and had coke bottle and bird print markings throughout each piece! I told him this wasn't right, and asked, "what's with all the bird prints??" He replied, "It's better then what you had." I said I didn't like it at all, and I would try to track down the proper tiles, and in the mean time, told him to leave it. As we were settling the bill, he asked if I would like a receipt. Sure, I replied. He proceeded to jot down a few amounts on a 2x2 piece of paper, and I accepted this! 200-labor, 16-tile, 116-disposal. Done. I handed him the wad." I'll call you when I find the tile. Goodbye." There are so many things wrong with this exchange. Would anyone in the class raise their hand and explain one thing out of the several that this client could have done differently?
The following morning, my brain waves woke from a deep slumber. Wait a minute! Where is the packaging and warranty information for my disposal? Why didn't I get a copy of the actual Home Depot receipt? My grout is still jet black! Why should I be the one to run all over town to find the matching tile? These questions, and my resentment festered. Two days later after scrounging up the tile needed, I called and asked when he could come to reinstall it, replace the black grout, and bring me the paperwork for the disposal. He sounded put out, irritated, and too busy to bother with me. "Oh, by the way, your paperwork is at the bottom of your trashcan underneath the broken tile and old disposal and pipes. Have you dumped your trash yet?" No. "Okay, why don't you try to get to it, and if you can't, I will dig it out when I get the chance." Why did he throw away this stuff? Don't most people keep the instructions and warranty papers? I started wondering if it was in my trash can at all. Did he install a used disposal? The mistrust began, and he couldn't give me a day when he would finish the job. The festering continued until one sleepless night a week later, I was fuming! I felt he was taking advantage of me. He was putting me off, and why shouldn't he? He had his money. I called at the first morning light. "It's Karen. Look, I feel you've been putting me off and you left this job incomplete. I should be a priority..." he interrupted, "You look, Karen, I'm a very busy man...", I stopped him," I understand that, but I need to be put ahead of your other clients and you need to finish this job!" "Okay, I can be there in 30 minutes." With a smile on his face, he arrived that morning and completed the job. There were no apologies though. And, I won't be passing his number along.
There were moments when I wanted to lecture him on customer service, but I held my tongue. I realized I needed a lecture as much as he. I learned some valuable lessons that need not be listed...they're too obvious. Here's one though: Next time, I'll wear a suit and some horn rimmed glasses, carry around a legal pad and hover over him until the job is done.
I asked him to replace my leaking disposal (he was to purchase and install this), tile and grout some missing and broken saltillo tile on my patio, re-grout some areas inside that had chipped away, and re-caulk my bathroom window. I left him, and headed to the gym. I trusted he would take care of everything, and I would return at the end of the job to pay him exactly what we had agreed upon. This is where I acted stupid.
I have an Interior Design background. Wouldn't you think that I would have considered approving the tile and grout color he planned to use? One would assume, yes. And, isn't it typical to want to see the packaging and receipt of the newly purchased disposal? I returned from the gym with my wad of cash, and the first thing I witnessed was the jet black grout color being wiped in between my floor tiles. The existing grout is a medium gray. He said it was wet and even though it wouldn't match perfectly, it would be close. Skeptically, I moved to the next item at hand, the disposal. I examined the piece and admired his installation along with the replacement of pipes (an added bonus, not discussed). Feeling a little more confident in my man, I walked out back to observe the completely WRONG tile installed next to my authentic Mexican tile. This was thinner, not rounded, a darker color, and had coke bottle and bird print markings throughout each piece! I told him this wasn't right, and asked, "what's with all the bird prints??" He replied, "It's better then what you had." I said I didn't like it at all, and I would try to track down the proper tiles, and in the mean time, told him to leave it. As we were settling the bill, he asked if I would like a receipt. Sure, I replied. He proceeded to jot down a few amounts on a 2x2 piece of paper, and I accepted this! 200-labor, 16-tile, 116-disposal. Done. I handed him the wad." I'll call you when I find the tile. Goodbye." There are so many things wrong with this exchange. Would anyone in the class raise their hand and explain one thing out of the several that this client could have done differently?
The following morning, my brain waves woke from a deep slumber. Wait a minute! Where is the packaging and warranty information for my disposal? Why didn't I get a copy of the actual Home Depot receipt? My grout is still jet black! Why should I be the one to run all over town to find the matching tile? These questions, and my resentment festered. Two days later after scrounging up the tile needed, I called and asked when he could come to reinstall it, replace the black grout, and bring me the paperwork for the disposal. He sounded put out, irritated, and too busy to bother with me. "Oh, by the way, your paperwork is at the bottom of your trashcan underneath the broken tile and old disposal and pipes. Have you dumped your trash yet?" No. "Okay, why don't you try to get to it, and if you can't, I will dig it out when I get the chance." Why did he throw away this stuff? Don't most people keep the instructions and warranty papers? I started wondering if it was in my trash can at all. Did he install a used disposal? The mistrust began, and he couldn't give me a day when he would finish the job. The festering continued until one sleepless night a week later, I was fuming! I felt he was taking advantage of me. He was putting me off, and why shouldn't he? He had his money. I called at the first morning light. "It's Karen. Look, I feel you've been putting me off and you left this job incomplete. I should be a priority..." he interrupted, "You look, Karen, I'm a very busy man...", I stopped him," I understand that, but I need to be put ahead of your other clients and you need to finish this job!" "Okay, I can be there in 30 minutes." With a smile on his face, he arrived that morning and completed the job. There were no apologies though. And, I won't be passing his number along.
There were moments when I wanted to lecture him on customer service, but I held my tongue. I realized I needed a lecture as much as he. I learned some valuable lessons that need not be listed...they're too obvious. Here's one though: Next time, I'll wear a suit and some horn rimmed glasses, carry around a legal pad and hover over him until the job is done.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Goldfish Killer
I did it. I took the life of our goldfish, Fire. I agonized over this decision for a week. I need to give the account of the days leading up to the final hour of his life. A couple of weeks ago he became fairly lifeless. He wasn't swimming/pacing back in forth, or wagging his body as I neared the bowl at feeding time. Instead, he was barely moving and hanging at the top with his mouth moving quickly to catch air...it pained me to see him this way. This went on for a few days until I cleaned his bowl. As he waited in the smaller container, I decided to give him a Reiki treatment ( I sent him energy through my hands). My daughter walked up and said, "Oh, you're trying to heal Fire? I hope it works." She's seen this from me before. Freakish but true, when I placed him back in his home, he began swimming like his old self...he was healed!
His energy level diminished the next day, however, and he went back to acting and looking sick. I prepared the kids for the worst and they both replied (practically in unison), "Can we get a new fish right after he dies?" I guess it's a good thing they weren't suffering like I was over the downfall of our pet. He developed red spots on his head and his firey orange scales seemed to be fading to white. I googled " How to heal a sick goldfish" and immediately the information came. His spots and fading color were burns from acidic water. The level of oxygen was extremely low hence his gasping for air at the top. He should not have been in a bowl ( I knew he was a fighter...he lived in his compact, non filtered home for a year). In order to save Fire, he would need to be removed from his contaminated environment as soon as possible. I was "fired" up! I headed to Petsmart to obtain all the necessary goods.
New 5 gallon filtered tank, check. One live plant (adds much needed oxygen to water), check. Vacuum to clean debris from rocks, check. One Petsmart fish expert to explain what else I needed to do in order to expand the life of this pitiful living being that my kids could give two shakes about. Antibiotics! Water softener! Dechlorination drops! But, then she added..."wait a week before placing the fish into the newly prepared tank." I felt the fish wouldn't survive past a couple of days...I was stressed. I told her I needed some privacy to discuss this impending $200 purchase with my husband. During the conversation, the first thought of flushing him came to mind. I would not be present for this, and he would need to do it while the kids were away. I was plotting Fire's murder. He thought I should ask the neighbor if she would like to add our fish to her own goldfish's tank. The step dad answered. "Why would we want another fish? It would make the water twice as dirty which would mean the miserable task of cleaning would be more often, and we had hoped her fish would have kicked it years ago. Karen, it's a goldfish for God's sakes!!!" So, that did it. The choice was clear. Fire had to go.
My husband was making my conclusion more difficult. I had made up my mind, but he was insisting we let the fish die of natural causes. I could not and would not watch the fish suffer another day. I was beginning to feel guilty though. I was controlling his destiny. What right did I have to do this? It was my own selfishness...I couldn't bear to look at the fish anymore. The next morning, I said my goodbyes and then asked my husband to go into the kitchen and take care of it while I waited in the back bedroom. The kids were at the grandparent's house. He called out, " I don't know, Karen, he's moving pretty good. I'm not sure we should do this." I yelled, "Just do it! And, don't tell me what he looks like or what he's doing." I heard the toilet flush, and then a second time. Oh, geez, it took two flushes. It was done. I went out to clean up his belongings. I felt awful. The kids were champs over the news...surprise, surprise. I left his empty bowl on the counter for a few days, but I started catching glimpses of him swimming around which kinda freaked me out.
I'm getting over it. I don't miss him anymore, and when I think of what it would've taken to save him, I feel I made the right decision....or, did I?
His energy level diminished the next day, however, and he went back to acting and looking sick. I prepared the kids for the worst and they both replied (practically in unison), "Can we get a new fish right after he dies?" I guess it's a good thing they weren't suffering like I was over the downfall of our pet. He developed red spots on his head and his firey orange scales seemed to be fading to white. I googled " How to heal a sick goldfish" and immediately the information came. His spots and fading color were burns from acidic water. The level of oxygen was extremely low hence his gasping for air at the top. He should not have been in a bowl ( I knew he was a fighter...he lived in his compact, non filtered home for a year). In order to save Fire, he would need to be removed from his contaminated environment as soon as possible. I was "fired" up! I headed to Petsmart to obtain all the necessary goods.
New 5 gallon filtered tank, check. One live plant (adds much needed oxygen to water), check. Vacuum to clean debris from rocks, check. One Petsmart fish expert to explain what else I needed to do in order to expand the life of this pitiful living being that my kids could give two shakes about. Antibiotics! Water softener! Dechlorination drops! But, then she added..."wait a week before placing the fish into the newly prepared tank." I felt the fish wouldn't survive past a couple of days...I was stressed. I told her I needed some privacy to discuss this impending $200 purchase with my husband. During the conversation, the first thought of flushing him came to mind. I would not be present for this, and he would need to do it while the kids were away. I was plotting Fire's murder. He thought I should ask the neighbor if she would like to add our fish to her own goldfish's tank. The step dad answered. "Why would we want another fish? It would make the water twice as dirty which would mean the miserable task of cleaning would be more often, and we had hoped her fish would have kicked it years ago. Karen, it's a goldfish for God's sakes!!!" So, that did it. The choice was clear. Fire had to go.
My husband was making my conclusion more difficult. I had made up my mind, but he was insisting we let the fish die of natural causes. I could not and would not watch the fish suffer another day. I was beginning to feel guilty though. I was controlling his destiny. What right did I have to do this? It was my own selfishness...I couldn't bear to look at the fish anymore. The next morning, I said my goodbyes and then asked my husband to go into the kitchen and take care of it while I waited in the back bedroom. The kids were at the grandparent's house. He called out, " I don't know, Karen, he's moving pretty good. I'm not sure we should do this." I yelled, "Just do it! And, don't tell me what he looks like or what he's doing." I heard the toilet flush, and then a second time. Oh, geez, it took two flushes. It was done. I went out to clean up his belongings. I felt awful. The kids were champs over the news...surprise, surprise. I left his empty bowl on the counter for a few days, but I started catching glimpses of him swimming around which kinda freaked me out.
I'm getting over it. I don't miss him anymore, and when I think of what it would've taken to save him, I feel I made the right decision....or, did I?
Monday, August 24, 2009
Waking Up In Vegas.....With the Kids
I definitely get the motto " What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas," but I feel it's appropriate to share my moments spent with my 6 year old twins in Sin city. Why, you may ask, would I bring them to Vegas, and for a week? Well, my parents gave me a free timeshare, and they were coming along, so I thought it would be fun ... do the kids activities during the day, and then have built in babysitters for me to do as I please at night! Little did I know that my husband would bail on coming, and every other friend and brother I tried to recruit declined as well. I began to wonder if it was possible to enjoy 6 days there, but after some minor internet research, I discovered there were plenty of places to take the kids, most of which I would enjoy myself.
Each day, I included something geared towards their amusement, and for mine, there was always shopping. You can't go to any decent hotel without passing by a number of fabulous boutiques. "Vegas with kids" tip #1: Try to do their activity relatively early in the day so that they have energy. Drag them into the shops afterwards.
The following is a list of things to do with kids ages 3 and up:
The Mandalay Bay's Shark Reef Aquarium: This houses an amazing selection of fish and exotic reptiles, including a hands-on stingray, horseshoe crab, and starfish aquarium. Aprox. $10 for kids, and $15 for adults. And, the Mandalay has some of the best restaurants and boutiques on the strip!
The Mirage's Siegfried and Roy's Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat: This is in a beautiful setting and very upclose and personal. The dolphins were impressive, and they allow anyone to be a dolphin trainer for a day (as long as you pay handsomely), but what a way to spend a day in Vegas! The Secret Garden is home to the White Tigers, zebras, panthers, leopards, among other exotic animals. It was more interesting then most zoos, not to crowded, and the White Tigers were fascinating to observe. $10 for kids over 3, $15 for adults.
The M&M Store: A very popular stop for all ages...who doesn't like M&M's?? Depending on the time of year, it can be quite crowded, but the kids loved it. I'll admit it's cheesy, and not in the nicest shopping district on the strip, but again, I needed to fill 6 days with amusement. Just don't go there with children unless you can spend the money. It's 4 stories of anything and everything...clothing, jewelry, candy machines, stuffed m&m dolls, backpacks, ornaments, and of course, vats of rainbow colored m&m candies.
Circus Circus: Obviously, there are circus acts, but there is so much more than that. This place about put me over the edge though, and I had to keep repeating to myself, " It's all about the kids." Here is where I'll insert my "Vegas with kids" tip # 2: Do not bring your kids anywhere like this unless you can be loving, generous, and of the "all about the kids" mindset...it's not fair to them. So, do some deep breathing, maybe a meditation before one of these outings, and focus on them for at least 2 or 3 hours.
There is a massive carnival midway that has most every game in existence, and even 6 yr olds can win! We took home a trash bag full of giant pillows, beanie babies, ugly plastic dolls and other items that would be given away within a week of returning home. The circus acts are free and last about 15 minutes each with a 45 minute wait in between. Performers such as the Russian feline fairly sexy acrobat (for the dads out there) and the astounding unicycling juggler were part of the lineup. Nothing the adult hasn't seen before, but through a child's eyes....ah, yes, you know what I'm saying.
Connected to the casino, is an enormous shimmery red building that houses rollercoasters, and other amusement park rides. I didn't want to step close to the entrance because it would've been 3 more hours out of my day .... I hadn't gone boutiquing yet!
A couple of peaceful and quick outings are to the Flamingo hotel to stroll the gardens full of an array of unusual birds, including, you got it, flamingos. The other is the stunning Bellagio fountain show which goes off every 1/2 hour.
This is only a short list of the things to do. For me, it was enough, but depending on the age of the child and how much you're willing to spend, there is so much more.
"Vegas with kids" tip # 3: If the kids have grandparents as remarkable as mine....bring them. It will keep you sane, and get you out when the town comes to life. "Alone in Vegas, at Night" will have to be another feature.
Each day, I included something geared towards their amusement, and for mine, there was always shopping. You can't go to any decent hotel without passing by a number of fabulous boutiques. "Vegas with kids" tip #1: Try to do their activity relatively early in the day so that they have energy. Drag them into the shops afterwards.
The following is a list of things to do with kids ages 3 and up:
The Mandalay Bay's Shark Reef Aquarium: This houses an amazing selection of fish and exotic reptiles, including a hands-on stingray, horseshoe crab, and starfish aquarium. Aprox. $10 for kids, and $15 for adults. And, the Mandalay has some of the best restaurants and boutiques on the strip!
The Mirage's Siegfried and Roy's Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat: This is in a beautiful setting and very upclose and personal. The dolphins were impressive, and they allow anyone to be a dolphin trainer for a day (as long as you pay handsomely), but what a way to spend a day in Vegas! The Secret Garden is home to the White Tigers, zebras, panthers, leopards, among other exotic animals. It was more interesting then most zoos, not to crowded, and the White Tigers were fascinating to observe. $10 for kids over 3, $15 for adults.
The M&M Store: A very popular stop for all ages...who doesn't like M&M's?? Depending on the time of year, it can be quite crowded, but the kids loved it. I'll admit it's cheesy, and not in the nicest shopping district on the strip, but again, I needed to fill 6 days with amusement. Just don't go there with children unless you can spend the money. It's 4 stories of anything and everything...clothing, jewelry, candy machines, stuffed m&m dolls, backpacks, ornaments, and of course, vats of rainbow colored m&m candies.
Circus Circus: Obviously, there are circus acts, but there is so much more than that. This place about put me over the edge though, and I had to keep repeating to myself, " It's all about the kids." Here is where I'll insert my "Vegas with kids" tip # 2: Do not bring your kids anywhere like this unless you can be loving, generous, and of the "all about the kids" mindset...it's not fair to them. So, do some deep breathing, maybe a meditation before one of these outings, and focus on them for at least 2 or 3 hours.
There is a massive carnival midway that has most every game in existence, and even 6 yr olds can win! We took home a trash bag full of giant pillows, beanie babies, ugly plastic dolls and other items that would be given away within a week of returning home. The circus acts are free and last about 15 minutes each with a 45 minute wait in between. Performers such as the Russian feline fairly sexy acrobat (for the dads out there) and the astounding unicycling juggler were part of the lineup. Nothing the adult hasn't seen before, but through a child's eyes....ah, yes, you know what I'm saying.
Connected to the casino, is an enormous shimmery red building that houses rollercoasters, and other amusement park rides. I didn't want to step close to the entrance because it would've been 3 more hours out of my day .... I hadn't gone boutiquing yet!
A couple of peaceful and quick outings are to the Flamingo hotel to stroll the gardens full of an array of unusual birds, including, you got it, flamingos. The other is the stunning Bellagio fountain show which goes off every 1/2 hour.
This is only a short list of the things to do. For me, it was enough, but depending on the age of the child and how much you're willing to spend, there is so much more.
"Vegas with kids" tip # 3: If the kids have grandparents as remarkable as mine....bring them. It will keep you sane, and get you out when the town comes to life. "Alone in Vegas, at Night" will have to be another feature.
Monday, May 11, 2009
All I Want For Mother's Day Is....
Yesterday was Mother's Day. Two days before, I received a large box at the door. It was a beach bike cruiser! I had been talking about wanting one for the last month since I don't use my mountain bike very often...they're not the easiest bike to just hop on and cruise the neighborhood with the kids. I thought it was very sweet that my hubbie ordered one and he worked the evening before mom's day and the next morning assembling it. It is super cute...creamy yellow with pink flowers and a big wicker basket for the front. I love it!
Okay, so the present is adorable and thoughtful. But, I didn't get any special treatment that morning...in fact, it seemed to be just like any ordinary Sunday morning. My husband went for an early run, came back hot and sweaty and went to work on assembling my bike which seemed to kinda stress him out. My son, however, walked into my bedroom, woke me up ( because daddy didn't tell him, " Let mommy sleep in."), and gave me his adorable card he had made me in school. It made me melt. He was anxious for me to get out of bed to see my bike come to life, so I dragged myself out at approximately 8:30 ( which, by the way, is sleeping in, but I can always use a little more time). Little did I know that I would become Daddy's little helper in the fabrication of my gift! I'm sorry, but I wasn't having any fun. I finally had to graciously bow out of my service to brush my teeth and rinse my face.
The rest of the day was enjoyable due to my mother's hard work and love of taking care of her family. She had balloons and a beautiful cake, and an amazing breakfast ready to go when we arrived. We all went swimming and had a relaxing day, I even squeezed in a nap. After a yummy dinner which was another meal she worked hard to prepare, we headed home. When we got the kids and ourselves to bed, I asked for a wee little massage of my neck and shoulders. But, you see, my husband was tired and didn't feel like it so, I had to remind him of what day it was because even though it was nighttime, the special day was not over yet. A 30 second massage followed. For all you men out there, 5 minutes should be the absolute minimum. I know it's not fair to ask when you're about to pass out, but I think I just wanted to end my mother's day with the slightest token of affection.
My point is...gifts are wonderful and considerate, but I've decided that getting out-of-the-ordinary, tender loving care is all I really desire on Mother's Day.
Okay, so the present is adorable and thoughtful. But, I didn't get any special treatment that morning...in fact, it seemed to be just like any ordinary Sunday morning. My husband went for an early run, came back hot and sweaty and went to work on assembling my bike which seemed to kinda stress him out. My son, however, walked into my bedroom, woke me up ( because daddy didn't tell him, " Let mommy sleep in."), and gave me his adorable card he had made me in school. It made me melt. He was anxious for me to get out of bed to see my bike come to life, so I dragged myself out at approximately 8:30 ( which, by the way, is sleeping in, but I can always use a little more time). Little did I know that I would become Daddy's little helper in the fabrication of my gift! I'm sorry, but I wasn't having any fun. I finally had to graciously bow out of my service to brush my teeth and rinse my face.
The rest of the day was enjoyable due to my mother's hard work and love of taking care of her family. She had balloons and a beautiful cake, and an amazing breakfast ready to go when we arrived. We all went swimming and had a relaxing day, I even squeezed in a nap. After a yummy dinner which was another meal she worked hard to prepare, we headed home. When we got the kids and ourselves to bed, I asked for a wee little massage of my neck and shoulders. But, you see, my husband was tired and didn't feel like it so, I had to remind him of what day it was because even though it was nighttime, the special day was not over yet. A 30 second massage followed. For all you men out there, 5 minutes should be the absolute minimum. I know it's not fair to ask when you're about to pass out, but I think I just wanted to end my mother's day with the slightest token of affection.
My point is...gifts are wonderful and considerate, but I've decided that getting out-of-the-ordinary, tender loving care is all I really desire on Mother's Day.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Dreams Are Strange
I've had some bizarre dreams in my life, and last night's dream has to be included in the "Huh, Where Did That Come From?" type.
Tom Petty is living in a small glass house connected to mine and we flirt a lot (eye contact only) through the glass partitioned walls. At one point, he and his band are loudly playing the song that goes something like this, " Oh hell yes, gotta put on that party dress," and I'm rockin out on the other side of the glass wall, flirting again. Later, he ends up in my house wearing a halloween get-up with a skull and cross bone scarf, and pants that resemble mummy fabric and we have our arms around each other. Just as he moves away from me, my husband comes in with Petty's female manager and she hustles Petty off to get ready for a benefit concert at Chapparel High School. When his drum set gets removed, there is a large square hole in the ground where hundreds of empty blue plastic, mini lego-looking pieces are scattered. His manager busts him for taking this drug called paint balls. He admits he has a drug problem.
While on stage at the concert, he is guzzling Coronas and in between, he's downing gallons of ice water from a cooler. After the show, he and I are in a spa restroom where he frantically tries to make it to the toilet, but instead, pees buckets all over the floor. I proceed to mop it up with plush spa towels.
Then, I wake up.
Can anyone out there interpret this for me??
Tom Petty is living in a small glass house connected to mine and we flirt a lot (eye contact only) through the glass partitioned walls. At one point, he and his band are loudly playing the song that goes something like this, " Oh hell yes, gotta put on that party dress," and I'm rockin out on the other side of the glass wall, flirting again. Later, he ends up in my house wearing a halloween get-up with a skull and cross bone scarf, and pants that resemble mummy fabric and we have our arms around each other. Just as he moves away from me, my husband comes in with Petty's female manager and she hustles Petty off to get ready for a benefit concert at Chapparel High School. When his drum set gets removed, there is a large square hole in the ground where hundreds of empty blue plastic, mini lego-looking pieces are scattered. His manager busts him for taking this drug called paint balls. He admits he has a drug problem.
While on stage at the concert, he is guzzling Coronas and in between, he's downing gallons of ice water from a cooler. After the show, he and I are in a spa restroom where he frantically tries to make it to the toilet, but instead, pees buckets all over the floor. I proceed to mop it up with plush spa towels.
Then, I wake up.
Can anyone out there interpret this for me??
Monday, March 30, 2009
Our Pet, "Fire"
"Fire" joined the Lawrence family tree on the day that my friend, Melinda, held a clever carnival style birthday party for her twins. Her backyard was loaded with games like the bean bag toss into the clown's mouth ( no, not an actual clown), a cake walk, and the ping pong ball toss into the empty fish bowl. Wait. Are those goldfish in water-filled plastic bags the prize? Oh no, did my kids just win 4 of them?
It was true. We were going home with four sweet? cute? goldfish that I secretly hoped wouldn't live past the drive to their new abode. Admittedly, there was a side to me that was excited for the kids. After all, they were our family's first pets! We rushed off to Petsmart to get all the necessary items, and I picked out the cheapest plastic fish bowl on the shelf (knowing it was unlikely they would survive past a week). After the four fish were placed safely in their newly created habitat, we fed them. None of them seemed to know what to do. They didn't notice the little flakes floating above, and I'm not sure they ever did, as the food eventually sank to the bottom. The next morning, one of them, the smallest (katie), was floating at the top. I had prepared the kids ahead of time that their deaths may be imminent, so they handled the "flushing" well. The following day, Kate, the next smallest, died. I was wondering if it was the quality of the water (Arizona's H2O is not good) even though I added the drops of dechlorination. Or, was it the lack of food? Maybe the biggest fish was eating most of it. Believe it or not, on the third day, another fish, John, had expired and the largest goldfish of the group (Trevor) was left. Survival of the fittest had proven itself once again.
Which brings me to our one and only pet, "Fire." The kids decided to change Trevor's name a few weeks later. They never said why, but unknowingly, the new name suited the tough guy to a tee! Not only is he the color of flames, but he braved the chemical laden waters while outswimming and outeating his three opponents. He has been with us for 6 months and has found his way into our hearts, especially mine. I never knew this before, but goldfish have brains. When I get close to the fishbowl, he goes crazy as he swims back and forth with his mouth going non-stop...he wants some attention. He's hungry, of course. Two small pinches of flakes a day is not enough. If it's close to that time of day, he practically jumps out of the bowl to get noticed! It would truly bother me to flush Fire down the toilet at this point. On the day he loses his life, a formal ceremony in the backyard may be well deserved.
Until then, I am considering upgrading his digs to a self-cleaning/filtered tank. I despise cleaning that filthy bowl, and sadly, there's this side to me that secretly wishes he would accidentally slip down the disposal during the process. Did I say he had worked his way into our hearts? I may have been exaggerating slightly.
It was true. We were going home with four sweet? cute? goldfish that I secretly hoped wouldn't live past the drive to their new abode. Admittedly, there was a side to me that was excited for the kids. After all, they were our family's first pets! We rushed off to Petsmart to get all the necessary items, and I picked out the cheapest plastic fish bowl on the shelf (knowing it was unlikely they would survive past a week). After the four fish were placed safely in their newly created habitat, we fed them. None of them seemed to know what to do. They didn't notice the little flakes floating above, and I'm not sure they ever did, as the food eventually sank to the bottom. The next morning, one of them, the smallest (katie), was floating at the top. I had prepared the kids ahead of time that their deaths may be imminent, so they handled the "flushing" well. The following day, Kate, the next smallest, died. I was wondering if it was the quality of the water (Arizona's H2O is not good) even though I added the drops of dechlorination. Or, was it the lack of food? Maybe the biggest fish was eating most of it. Believe it or not, on the third day, another fish, John, had expired and the largest goldfish of the group (Trevor) was left. Survival of the fittest had proven itself once again.
Which brings me to our one and only pet, "Fire." The kids decided to change Trevor's name a few weeks later. They never said why, but unknowingly, the new name suited the tough guy to a tee! Not only is he the color of flames, but he braved the chemical laden waters while outswimming and outeating his three opponents. He has been with us for 6 months and has found his way into our hearts, especially mine. I never knew this before, but goldfish have brains. When I get close to the fishbowl, he goes crazy as he swims back and forth with his mouth going non-stop...he wants some attention. He's hungry, of course. Two small pinches of flakes a day is not enough. If it's close to that time of day, he practically jumps out of the bowl to get noticed! It would truly bother me to flush Fire down the toilet at this point. On the day he loses his life, a formal ceremony in the backyard may be well deserved.
Until then, I am considering upgrading his digs to a self-cleaning/filtered tank. I despise cleaning that filthy bowl, and sadly, there's this side to me that secretly wishes he would accidentally slip down the disposal during the process. Did I say he had worked his way into our hearts? I may have been exaggerating slightly.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Diggin My Girlfriends
Girls, we are lucky to have our girlfriends! I'm talking about the ones that really know us and we can say any crazy thing on our mind. They are amazing listeners and supporters even though they may not approve sometimes. They're with us through it all, and if we haven't seen or spoken to them in a while, the friendship still stands strong.
My friends, (OMG, I just sounded like John McCain...forgive me) you know who you are, I love you!
My friends, (OMG, I just sounded like John McCain...forgive me) you know who you are, I love you!
Friday, March 13, 2009
Music Of Our Lives
I was thinking about all the songs, singers and bands that evoke memories from literally every event in our lives. Every time I hear something that brings about one of those times, it puts a smile on my face. I'm not sure I have any songs that would remind me of a bad experience which I suppose is a good thing. I am now going to attempt to go back, to recall some of those moments...this should be fun!
Puff the Magic Dragon (story book and album): Sitting on the floor of our music room with my brothers listening and following along with the book. "Puff, the magic dragon, lived by the sea..." 1970
The Partridge Family, The Osmonds and The Jackson 5: Anyone who grew up with these groups, knows you have to lump them together. Going door to door in our neighborhood in Clearwater, Fla., selling 5 cent tickets to come see our band sing in our music room. All of our neighbors were 70 yrs. or older (they were my peeps)...we always had a packed house! I was lead singer, my brothers played guitar and drums. 1973-75
The Carpenters: I wanted to be Karen Carpenter, so my Dad bought me a drum set. (Am I alone in this, girls? Come on, admit it)! 1973
Elton John, Greatest Hits Album (1974): My half brother, Bobby, would bring his album collection when he visited. I heard this album for the first time with him...in fact, when we picked him up at the airport, he was wearing the same white suit and hat that Elton was wearing on the cover, along with white patent leather shoes. He was quite flamboyant, and I thought he was the coolest (turned out, he was gay, but that's another story).
"All By Myself, " Eric Carmen: My dad used to bring home a new 45 record of his favorite song each week, and we would lay down on the floor of our music room with our heads pressed against the speakers. Those were great moments I shared with my dad. 1970-76
The theme song from "Rocky" : We moved to Philadelphia in 1976, the Bicentennial, and the same year "Rocky" opened. I was crazy for "Sly."
Paul McCartney's "Venus and Mars" album: I used to sit up in my room with my tape recorder ( remember the rectangular ones with the small speaker) and record my lousy voice while singing along to this album. 1976-79
"I Got You, Babe," Sonny and Cher: My family used to take numerous road trips with our collection of 8 tracks...this is one of those songs that got the whole carload singing! Of course, their show was watched every week, as well. 1970's
"Stayin Alive," Bee Gees: The movie, "Saturday Night Fever," provoked me to have a life size poster of JT above my headboard. 1977
Journey, any and all songs: My sophomore year at Clearwater High School. Riding in my friend, Ralph's red convertible antique mustang singing "Lovin, Touchin, Squeezin" at the top of our lungs. 1981
Jimmy Buffett: Again, my sophomore year. A group of us hung out at a dive bar , The Bikini Lounge, on Clearwater Beach. We used to play pool, drink beer and sing Buffett songs...man, those were the days! Mind you, the drinking age was 18, but somehow we all got into the bars back then. 1981
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Probably the cruelest I've ever been to anyone... a few of us filled up water balloons and loaded into the back of my friend's pickup truck and waited outside a girl's house. After her doorbell was rung and she appeared on her doorstep, we barraged her with the balloons while yelling profanity. Can't tell you why we did it, but I feel bad about it. I'm sure she's never forgotten the incident. Tom Petty's cassette was playing at the time. (Well, that would be one unpleasant memory. Although, I still love his music) 1981
"Hotel California" : My first slow dance; 7th grade, the boy had thick puffy hair(come to think of it, so did my boyfriend in college). 1977
Beach Boys: First concert without my parents. Dad dropped my friends and I off at the front. 1978
Gladys Knight and the Pips: First concert with my parents. Lots of stylin black people dancin in the aisles...purple velvet suits and platform shoes stand out in my mind. 1974
"Lights, " Journey: I cried to that song when I was told my parents were moving us from Clearwater to St. Louis. I loved my friends and life in Florida and didn't want to change high schools again. 1980
Southern Rock...Molly Hatchet, Lynard Skynard, Tom Petty, Journey, Bob Seger and more: When I moved to St. Louis, everyone I met listened to R&B. I remember opening my bedroom windows and blasting these albums on my stereo to let the whole neighborhood know that I had arrived,and this was what cool people from Florida listened to!! 1980
The Police: Going to the concert in crazy punk rock type clothes with my concert going buddies from high school. My outfit was black and white striped and I wore chunky brightly colored plastic jewelry. The sad thing was that I also wore that to school thinking it was fashionable and cool! (1982)
Flock of Seagulls: Senior year spring break, Daytona Beach, Fla. Dancing in the clubs...behaving badly. What senior in high school who goes away for spring break doesn't? 1982
Squeeze, "Black Coffee In Bed" : Freshman year, Arizona State. My roommate, Chris, from Denver listened to Michael Jackson and she had never heard Squeeze before...I turned her on to them, and clove cigarettes! 1982
"Hello," Neil Diamond: My first love was in college.. This was our song...and Blue Nun was our wine. 1983
"Take a Look at Me Now," Phil Collins: I cried all the way from Tempe, AZ to Newport Beach listening to this song and thinking of my ex love of my life. That was our first break up...we had many more after that. The other breakups didn't lend themselves to special songs or much crying. 1983
Neil Diamond, "Hot August Nights": Hanging out in my Pledge Dad's room with our roommates listening to Neil songs, and trying something for the first time that arrived in a manilla envelope from California. It was white and made a small mountain when placed on his mirror.
Frank Sinatra: Same scenario as above.
"Do You Know the Muffin Man" : Late night at Mark and Ron's house...I had a broom and was sweeping their front entry while singing this song over and over and over (someone gave me something that made me VERY happy). 1985
"Groove is in the Heart" : Clubbing in my 20's around Newport Beach." NYC" was a favorite! 1991-95
Dwight Yoakam: When I dated my husband, a Wyoming boy, he used to crank Dwight in his bedroom and sing in my ear. I thought he was charming! 1994
Gypsy Kings: I went to their concert with my brothers while visiting the States from Saudi Arabia. I danced the entire show; it was liberating ( after being in a fairly depressed country for 3 years)! 1998
Fast forward to the present...so many more I could think of but I will include just one last song: "The Monster Mash." My kids were born on Halloween in 2002 which happens to be one of my favorite occasions each year.
Puff the Magic Dragon (story book and album): Sitting on the floor of our music room with my brothers listening and following along with the book. "Puff, the magic dragon, lived by the sea..." 1970
The Partridge Family, The Osmonds and The Jackson 5: Anyone who grew up with these groups, knows you have to lump them together. Going door to door in our neighborhood in Clearwater, Fla., selling 5 cent tickets to come see our band sing in our music room. All of our neighbors were 70 yrs. or older (they were my peeps)...we always had a packed house! I was lead singer, my brothers played guitar and drums. 1973-75
The Carpenters: I wanted to be Karen Carpenter, so my Dad bought me a drum set. (Am I alone in this, girls? Come on, admit it)! 1973
Elton John, Greatest Hits Album (1974): My half brother, Bobby, would bring his album collection when he visited. I heard this album for the first time with him...in fact, when we picked him up at the airport, he was wearing the same white suit and hat that Elton was wearing on the cover, along with white patent leather shoes. He was quite flamboyant, and I thought he was the coolest (turned out, he was gay, but that's another story).
"All By Myself, " Eric Carmen: My dad used to bring home a new 45 record of his favorite song each week, and we would lay down on the floor of our music room with our heads pressed against the speakers. Those were great moments I shared with my dad. 1970-76
The theme song from "Rocky" : We moved to Philadelphia in 1976, the Bicentennial, and the same year "Rocky" opened. I was crazy for "Sly."
Paul McCartney's "Venus and Mars" album: I used to sit up in my room with my tape recorder ( remember the rectangular ones with the small speaker) and record my lousy voice while singing along to this album. 1976-79
"I Got You, Babe," Sonny and Cher: My family used to take numerous road trips with our collection of 8 tracks...this is one of those songs that got the whole carload singing! Of course, their show was watched every week, as well. 1970's
"Stayin Alive," Bee Gees: The movie, "Saturday Night Fever," provoked me to have a life size poster of JT above my headboard. 1977
Journey, any and all songs: My sophomore year at Clearwater High School. Riding in my friend, Ralph's red convertible antique mustang singing "Lovin, Touchin, Squeezin" at the top of our lungs. 1981
Jimmy Buffett: Again, my sophomore year. A group of us hung out at a dive bar , The Bikini Lounge, on Clearwater Beach. We used to play pool, drink beer and sing Buffett songs...man, those were the days! Mind you, the drinking age was 18, but somehow we all got into the bars back then. 1981
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Probably the cruelest I've ever been to anyone... a few of us filled up water balloons and loaded into the back of my friend's pickup truck and waited outside a girl's house. After her doorbell was rung and she appeared on her doorstep, we barraged her with the balloons while yelling profanity. Can't tell you why we did it, but I feel bad about it. I'm sure she's never forgotten the incident. Tom Petty's cassette was playing at the time. (Well, that would be one unpleasant memory. Although, I still love his music) 1981
"Hotel California" : My first slow dance; 7th grade, the boy had thick puffy hair(come to think of it, so did my boyfriend in college). 1977
Beach Boys: First concert without my parents. Dad dropped my friends and I off at the front. 1978
Gladys Knight and the Pips: First concert with my parents. Lots of stylin black people dancin in the aisles...purple velvet suits and platform shoes stand out in my mind. 1974
"Lights, " Journey: I cried to that song when I was told my parents were moving us from Clearwater to St. Louis. I loved my friends and life in Florida and didn't want to change high schools again. 1980
Southern Rock...Molly Hatchet, Lynard Skynard, Tom Petty, Journey, Bob Seger and more: When I moved to St. Louis, everyone I met listened to R&B. I remember opening my bedroom windows and blasting these albums on my stereo to let the whole neighborhood know that I had arrived,and this was what cool people from Florida listened to!! 1980
The Police: Going to the concert in crazy punk rock type clothes with my concert going buddies from high school. My outfit was black and white striped and I wore chunky brightly colored plastic jewelry. The sad thing was that I also wore that to school thinking it was fashionable and cool! (1982)
Flock of Seagulls: Senior year spring break, Daytona Beach, Fla. Dancing in the clubs...behaving badly. What senior in high school who goes away for spring break doesn't? 1982
Squeeze, "Black Coffee In Bed" : Freshman year, Arizona State. My roommate, Chris, from Denver listened to Michael Jackson and she had never heard Squeeze before...I turned her on to them, and clove cigarettes! 1982
"Hello," Neil Diamond: My first love was in college.. This was our song...and Blue Nun was our wine. 1983
"Take a Look at Me Now," Phil Collins: I cried all the way from Tempe, AZ to Newport Beach listening to this song and thinking of my ex love of my life. That was our first break up...we had many more after that. The other breakups didn't lend themselves to special songs or much crying. 1983
Neil Diamond, "Hot August Nights": Hanging out in my Pledge Dad's room with our roommates listening to Neil songs, and trying something for the first time that arrived in a manilla envelope from California. It was white and made a small mountain when placed on his mirror.
Frank Sinatra: Same scenario as above.
"Do You Know the Muffin Man" : Late night at Mark and Ron's house...I had a broom and was sweeping their front entry while singing this song over and over and over (someone gave me something that made me VERY happy). 1985
"Groove is in the Heart" : Clubbing in my 20's around Newport Beach." NYC" was a favorite! 1991-95
Dwight Yoakam: When I dated my husband, a Wyoming boy, he used to crank Dwight in his bedroom and sing in my ear. I thought he was charming! 1994
Gypsy Kings: I went to their concert with my brothers while visiting the States from Saudi Arabia. I danced the entire show; it was liberating ( after being in a fairly depressed country for 3 years)! 1998
Fast forward to the present...so many more I could think of but I will include just one last song: "The Monster Mash." My kids were born on Halloween in 2002 which happens to be one of my favorite occasions each year.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
1-900-PSYCHIC
At this very moment, I need a psychic to tell me what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I'm too spent to figure it out right now. Wouldn't life be a lot easier if we had someone constantly whispering in our ear..."don't do that, what are you thinking?" Or, "Yes, this is what you should be doing...keep going, you're on the right track!"
I think it's time to meditate regularly...the answers will come.
I think it's time to meditate regularly...the answers will come.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Best Knives In The World
Am I allowed to claim that the Ginza knives truly are the best in the world? I bought a set of these when I lived in Saudi Arabia. I have had them and used them consistently since 1998! Remember the commercials way back when? They can cut through cardboard, tear through carpet, and can even cut through a chest cavity! I am telling you, they can do all that and much more. They are still as sharp as when I first purchased them. Check on line...Ginza Deluxe Kitchen Set.
I just realized I wrote a great advertisement for Ginza and didn't get paid for it!! Maybe I should look into marketing on my blog.
I just realized I wrote a great advertisement for Ginza and didn't get paid for it!! Maybe I should look into marketing on my blog.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Am I Gullible Or Just Plain Friendly?
I will talk to just about anyone at anytime. Yesterday, I had two different people come to my door...the Jehovah's witness in the morning, and the 19 year old boy from Philadelphia working for a better life for himself, in the evening. The woman wanted me to read her booklets, answer some questions in the back, and then she would return in a couple of weeks to quiz me. I didn't shut her down... I acted genuinely interested in reading these ( I'll probably glance through), partly because I know she will come back and I'll have to act informed, And, I usually get a good message from them.
After hearing the boy's story about being a part of gangs on the streets of Philadelphia, and then becoming a part of an organization that helps these kids learn people skills by selling magazines door to door, I had to contribute. Eventually, he will get to a level where he can go back home and mentor other troubled kids.
Then there was the 22 year old guy who came to my door about a month ago asking for money. He was part of a Christian organization that takes men 18 -65 who have abused drugs or alcohol. They live on a campus together with counseling and schooling while getting clean. I had to hear more about his story so we talked for a good hour outside, and then, of course, I got my checkbook out. This kid was using heroin from the time he was 16 and then started using with his younger brother who was 15. At first, he would use outside of his home, but then, he started sneaking it into his bedroom where he used for a couple more years under his own roof. His parents never knew. He overdosed one day, which led him to this group. His brother is now going through the treatment and he believes God saved the two of them.
I had a couple of Mormon boys come to the house to tell me about their faith. I was curious, so we visited for quite a while and by the end of it, I understood more about their religion. How do we learn anything if we don't ask questions?
I usually let the Hoover people come in and vacuum my house and give me a 10 minute sales pitch. I'm not going to buy a vacuum, I just want my carpets clean and I can't say no. What's a half hour out of my day to get incredibly clean carpets?
Telemarketers usually have me at "Hello." If they catch me while I'm cooking dinner, I'll complete their questionaire...it's no skin off my back and I'm helping them out.
The other day, a homeless guy approached me for some money. As I reached into my purse, he said, "Can I have a five?" I said, "Don't push it," and gave him a single. I have my limits!
So, the question stands. Am I gullible or just plain friendly? I'd say I'm a little of both.
After hearing the boy's story about being a part of gangs on the streets of Philadelphia, and then becoming a part of an organization that helps these kids learn people skills by selling magazines door to door, I had to contribute. Eventually, he will get to a level where he can go back home and mentor other troubled kids.
Then there was the 22 year old guy who came to my door about a month ago asking for money. He was part of a Christian organization that takes men 18 -65 who have abused drugs or alcohol. They live on a campus together with counseling and schooling while getting clean. I had to hear more about his story so we talked for a good hour outside, and then, of course, I got my checkbook out. This kid was using heroin from the time he was 16 and then started using with his younger brother who was 15. At first, he would use outside of his home, but then, he started sneaking it into his bedroom where he used for a couple more years under his own roof. His parents never knew. He overdosed one day, which led him to this group. His brother is now going through the treatment and he believes God saved the two of them.
I had a couple of Mormon boys come to the house to tell me about their faith. I was curious, so we visited for quite a while and by the end of it, I understood more about their religion. How do we learn anything if we don't ask questions?
I usually let the Hoover people come in and vacuum my house and give me a 10 minute sales pitch. I'm not going to buy a vacuum, I just want my carpets clean and I can't say no. What's a half hour out of my day to get incredibly clean carpets?
Telemarketers usually have me at "Hello." If they catch me while I'm cooking dinner, I'll complete their questionaire...it's no skin off my back and I'm helping them out.
The other day, a homeless guy approached me for some money. As I reached into my purse, he said, "Can I have a five?" I said, "Don't push it," and gave him a single. I have my limits!
So, the question stands. Am I gullible or just plain friendly? I'd say I'm a little of both.
Monday, March 2, 2009
The Land of Vortexes and Psychics
I just returned from a weekend in spectacular Sedona. The soaring red rock formations that surround the town feel somewhat "otherworldly," and it's a unique place in many aspects. If you're a spiritual guru, then there are many ways to connect with your inner self. There are psychics and spiritual advisors on every corner and several of them will also conduct vortex hikes. What is a vortex, you may ask? It is an enhanced energy location where other dimensions are more accessible. Who doesn't know that?! I have been to a couple of these and I have not viewed a past life or flown to another planet and back. However, I wasn't in the frame of mind to travel to other dimensions!.Besides, I was told by a local psychic that I needed to have a spiritual guide with me in order to truly encounter the "other side." I need a weekend by myself or with other like-minded people to tap into the sacred adventures Sedona can provide.
Anyone who knows my husband, understands he is not one of those "like minded" people who would participate in any of those wacky, waste-of-money encounters. I, on the other hand, was chomping at the bit to get into one of the spiritual centers to have a reading. I mentioned that I wanted to see a clairvoyant/medium to help me locate my missing wedding rings ( a sore subject, but, worth mentioning in another story). He scoffed at the idea. Again, these are things I should be dealing with on my own. I wanted to, at least, go to one of the fun stores chock-full of crystals, stone buddhas, incense, etc., to find something I resonated with. I know, screwy talk, right? When we pulled up, he asked my son to stay in the car with him. He had a hard time stepping foot in any place that had to do with crazy phenomenon. My kids wanted to go with me, of course, because they knew I would let them pick out something. So, he hesitantly entered (with "Twilight Zone" music playing in the background) and in the 15 minutes we were there, he managed to escape without being converted to the other side.
Our time was spent biking and hiking on some of the hundreds of trails that surround the town, taking incredible scenic drives and relaxing at our resort. It was perfect. My personal, soul-searching, out-of-body weekend will have to wait.
Anyone who knows my husband, understands he is not one of those "like minded" people who would participate in any of those wacky, waste-of-money encounters. I, on the other hand, was chomping at the bit to get into one of the spiritual centers to have a reading. I mentioned that I wanted to see a clairvoyant/medium to help me locate my missing wedding rings ( a sore subject, but, worth mentioning in another story). He scoffed at the idea. Again, these are things I should be dealing with on my own. I wanted to, at least, go to one of the fun stores chock-full of crystals, stone buddhas, incense, etc., to find something I resonated with. I know, screwy talk, right? When we pulled up, he asked my son to stay in the car with him. He had a hard time stepping foot in any place that had to do with crazy phenomenon. My kids wanted to go with me, of course, because they knew I would let them pick out something. So, he hesitantly entered (with "Twilight Zone" music playing in the background) and in the 15 minutes we were there, he managed to escape without being converted to the other side.
Our time was spent biking and hiking on some of the hundreds of trails that surround the town, taking incredible scenic drives and relaxing at our resort. It was perfect. My personal, soul-searching, out-of-body weekend will have to wait.
Friday, February 27, 2009
"Girls Night Out"
If single girls say they want to go out, whether to a movie, dinner, a bar or a club, they just plan it and go. They don't need to put a title to their evening out and begin planning it for weeks, and make sure that their friends put it down in their monthly planner. The term "girls night out" was created by women married to controlling husbands who needed some way of justifying getting out of the house. And let me be even more clear that it is usually for married, stay-at-home moms. If we were working moms, we would conveniently be busy till 7 or 8 at night every now and then, and meet our friends at happy hour. Right? Or, are working moms still expected to get home right after work and have dinner ready for their family?
"Girls Night Out." Out where? It depends on the type of women we're talking about. For instance, when I belonged to the Mom's Club here, most of the women wanted their night out to be at someone's home: a movie night in pj's, scrapbooking, exchanging cookie recipes...you get the idea. Other women are content with a movie and possibly squeezing in an appetizer somewhere. Remember, most moms limit their time out because they feel obligated to feed the kids and get them ready for bed before they leave. Then, there are the women (like me) that like to hit the town on their night out. Hey, if you're going to have a one-night-a-month pass, why not live it up?! ( Granted, I have stretched that to 2 nights a month, big deal ). My husband feels safe and comforted knowing I am at someone's house eating cookies and sharing stories about our kids. Being at a bar or club on my night out is troublesome for him. For me, it's a chance to catch up with my girls, and meet new people. Sure, I like the attention, but I'm not out to "pick up" a new man. I just like being part of the scene and checking out all the new places.
I'm not sure about other husbands, but I believe it's threatening to many of them to have their wives out at night without them. They get so used to having us fit into this convenient little box, and when we open the box and climb out, they don't know how to handle it. I realize we married girls need to tread lightly...men are a sensitive breed in general, But, Please, As long as we get a little compliment now and then, a smattering of romance and affection, they have nothing to worry about. But, if we don't.....LOOK OUT!
"Girls Night Out." Out where? It depends on the type of women we're talking about. For instance, when I belonged to the Mom's Club here, most of the women wanted their night out to be at someone's home: a movie night in pj's, scrapbooking, exchanging cookie recipes...you get the idea. Other women are content with a movie and possibly squeezing in an appetizer somewhere. Remember, most moms limit their time out because they feel obligated to feed the kids and get them ready for bed before they leave. Then, there are the women (like me) that like to hit the town on their night out. Hey, if you're going to have a one-night-a-month pass, why not live it up?! ( Granted, I have stretched that to 2 nights a month, big deal ). My husband feels safe and comforted knowing I am at someone's house eating cookies and sharing stories about our kids. Being at a bar or club on my night out is troublesome for him. For me, it's a chance to catch up with my girls, and meet new people. Sure, I like the attention, but I'm not out to "pick up" a new man. I just like being part of the scene and checking out all the new places.
I'm not sure about other husbands, but I believe it's threatening to many of them to have their wives out at night without them. They get so used to having us fit into this convenient little box, and when we open the box and climb out, they don't know how to handle it. I realize we married girls need to tread lightly...men are a sensitive breed in general, But, Please, As long as we get a little compliment now and then, a smattering of romance and affection, they have nothing to worry about. But, if we don't.....LOOK OUT!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Doing My Part
Okay, I have decided to announce to my husband that I will let the cleaning lady go entirely. I will admit, I am hesitant to follow through as I write this, but I believe this is a great way to show I care about our finances at this time. That is not to say I will not ask her back when things "bounce back." I realized, after cleaning the house once last month, that I am perfectly capable.Some of you reading this may not have a cleaning person and may be baffled by the fact that I have had one, but I haven't lifted a finger since my husband and I lived in Saudi Arabia, where, admittedly, I became spoiled.
You see, over there, everyone has a live in maid whether you need one or not. Our "maids quarters" was a tiny little bedroom/bathroom off the kitchen that was so small that we had to get a twin bed custom cut to fit into the room and even then, it was "wall to wall." So, in the beginning, she cleaned every day, did the laundry, and helped me get dinner ready. I loved having her cut and clean the lettuce and other foods I'd be preparing...she was an amazing dicer. For a couple of weeks, we were digging this. But then we started to feel silly for having a full time maid "pick up" after the two of us. My husband would purposely drop his boxers in the middle of the floor just to keep her busy. We then cut her to 3 days a week. After my Lebanese friend told me she had seen her watching TV whenever I was away ( the nerve of her), she said she wanted to have a "talk" with her in Arabic to tell her this was NOT acceptable! Their "talk" was the loudest, nastiest sounding conversation I had ever heard. I felt so bad for our sweet Eritrean girl. How could I be tough on her when I realized there was nothing for her to do?? Our place was gleaming. Soon, I cut her to once a week, and that is how it stayed.
When I returned to the states, after living in Saudi for 4 1/2 years, having a maid was a no brainer. It's tough to have had it easy, and then go to a more moderate lifestyle. The money was great, we traveled all the time, and we bought designer clothes whenever we wanted. Whoever says money doesn't make life easier is full of it. Anyway, for now, I'm ready to give this cleaning thing a shot.
You see, over there, everyone has a live in maid whether you need one or not. Our "maids quarters" was a tiny little bedroom/bathroom off the kitchen that was so small that we had to get a twin bed custom cut to fit into the room and even then, it was "wall to wall." So, in the beginning, she cleaned every day, did the laundry, and helped me get dinner ready. I loved having her cut and clean the lettuce and other foods I'd be preparing...she was an amazing dicer. For a couple of weeks, we were digging this. But then we started to feel silly for having a full time maid "pick up" after the two of us. My husband would purposely drop his boxers in the middle of the floor just to keep her busy. We then cut her to 3 days a week. After my Lebanese friend told me she had seen her watching TV whenever I was away ( the nerve of her), she said she wanted to have a "talk" with her in Arabic to tell her this was NOT acceptable! Their "talk" was the loudest, nastiest sounding conversation I had ever heard. I felt so bad for our sweet Eritrean girl. How could I be tough on her when I realized there was nothing for her to do?? Our place was gleaming. Soon, I cut her to once a week, and that is how it stayed.
When I returned to the states, after living in Saudi for 4 1/2 years, having a maid was a no brainer. It's tough to have had it easy, and then go to a more moderate lifestyle. The money was great, we traveled all the time, and we bought designer clothes whenever we wanted. Whoever says money doesn't make life easier is full of it. Anyway, for now, I'm ready to give this cleaning thing a shot.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
Being without a job, or a savings or checking account means that I have no cash around so when I "happen" upon some money I cherish it (at least for a while, anyway). Let me explain how I "happen" upon money.
When my husband gets home from work, he sets his credit cards and cash on top of my dresser. Sometimes I take a few dollars, sometimes a five, and put it in an envelope and stash it between some books in my end table. This becomes my little savings account.
Usually he doesn't notice or seem to care, but some days, I get a little gutsy and take a five or a ten. He notices. He is irritated and wonders why I have to sneak the money instead of just asking for it. Good point. I realize this sounds quite juvenile, but I continue to "steal" without a word. I'm creating a nice little nest egg. My diligence and consistency always pays off. The other way I acquire money is from my parents. They have been "treating" me since I was in college in the 80's. Back then, it was a $20 here and there, which would last me the entire weekend. Now, it's a $50 or $100, and my mom always says, "Treat yourself to something nice." Usually, it's a spa treatment or something from my favorite boutique.
A couple of weeks ago, I took $40 as payment for cleaning my house, ( I cancelled the cleaning lady that day). I took the money to the local casino and played 3 card poker.. I was able to let that $40 ride for about 45 minutes and only lost twenty in the end, I was hoping to double my money. At my table were several older men and one asked what I did for a living. Now, mind you, it was the middle of the day and the kids were at school. I said I was a stay- at -home mom. There were a couple of loud barrell type laughs and a few low chuckles. The latter not being very impressed with how I chose to spend my time.
I responded, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
When my husband gets home from work, he sets his credit cards and cash on top of my dresser. Sometimes I take a few dollars, sometimes a five, and put it in an envelope and stash it between some books in my end table. This becomes my little savings account.
Usually he doesn't notice or seem to care, but some days, I get a little gutsy and take a five or a ten. He notices. He is irritated and wonders why I have to sneak the money instead of just asking for it. Good point. I realize this sounds quite juvenile, but I continue to "steal" without a word. I'm creating a nice little nest egg. My diligence and consistency always pays off. The other way I acquire money is from my parents. They have been "treating" me since I was in college in the 80's. Back then, it was a $20 here and there, which would last me the entire weekend. Now, it's a $50 or $100, and my mom always says, "Treat yourself to something nice." Usually, it's a spa treatment or something from my favorite boutique.
A couple of weeks ago, I took $40 as payment for cleaning my house, ( I cancelled the cleaning lady that day). I took the money to the local casino and played 3 card poker.. I was able to let that $40 ride for about 45 minutes and only lost twenty in the end, I was hoping to double my money. At my table were several older men and one asked what I did for a living. Now, mind you, it was the middle of the day and the kids were at school. I said I was a stay- at -home mom. There were a couple of loud barrell type laughs and a few low chuckles. The latter not being very impressed with how I chose to spend my time.
I responded, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
"The Day After" an intentional prayer
The day after 9/11, a friend wrote this while at a prayer service where everyone was asked to write down their intentions. I immediatley copied it down to keep because it was beautifully written and thought it could be applied to our lives at any time, not just after this unforgettable tragedy. I found it in a box tucked away
in a closet the other day and when I read it again, I thought about the financial crisis our country and the rest of the world is experiencing. As individuals, we are all hit by this in one way or another, but what concerns me is the fear that the media and our government has created in many of us. Fear and worry creates more of the same, so I hope we can all look at our lives and find the positives and move forward each day being thankful for what we have. President Obama's address to congress last night was very optimistic and promising for our future...we should all pay heed to this.
"I pray that we not react in kind, do not feed this insane mentality. I pray that we not add to out collective world hatred, that we not fuel this loveless blind force, this hubris that has always been a part of the human story. Rather, I hope we can make all the more effort to heal ourselves by forgiving each other, releasing our own bonds of hatred, jealousy, and fear of one another, and let love in.
I pray that we ask to be filled with Love, that we be silent and listen for it, and while we patiently wait for this Love that can heal every wound, that we make an act of will, a choice to make all the more effort to reach out, communicate, be kind to those in need, to those who are different from ourselves, and to look at each other not as strangers, but as connected and one with each other and our creator. Let us not be afraid of each other, but rather, ask God, Great Spirit, our higher power or higher self, Buddha, Love - whoever or whatever we believe in, to be filled with Love, the kind of unconditional love that our grandmothers seem to shower on us - and the kindness, respect and every good thing that flows from it.
And the courage not just to think or speak or write about this love, but to live it. Smile more, laugh more, breathe deep, hug a new friend. Despite all this or maybe to spite all this, "Keep on Trustin".
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