It's a common occurrence in every person's life, no one is exempt. But, you know what? It's SO infuriating! What is? Why, the person who waltzes through your day on a power-trip, that's what!
What IS it with these people? You are going about your life, good or bad, or ugly for that matter, and up they pop like a demented Jack-In-The-Box and make their little power plays. JUST because they can.
I remember it happening a lot when I was a kid. That makes a lot of sense, considering the only power you had as a child amounted to how many younger siblings you actually had (that would be one for me), and how many Barbie's or G.I. Joes were being held hostage at the time. Not... that... I would know anything about that. *ahem* (Think my brother will ever forgive me? I think I may still have a kidnapped transformer in the basement somewhere...) Being a child, with no real standing in our society, it's understandable how so many of us faced off with school bullies, demented teachers, principals, older siblings, drunk relatives, or the neighbor who felt that the flowers in his/her yard were worth more than your measly life, and anything that came within 10 yards of them was systematically destroyed.
As a teenager... well, it's pretty obvious that 99% of them are snots anyway, and we likely deserved it - but it still happened. The problem is, it still happens even when you are all grown up. No one really tells you that, it's one of the joys of being an adult that they want you to discover on your own. No Judy Blume books on the jerk-boss, or the evil PTA-witch, are there?
In fact, it's amazing how many people give into a power trip when presented with the opportunity. Case in point: road rage. Or, road-misdemeanor. How many times have you tailgated someone going too slow. How about slowed down when the person tailgated you? Or what about making sure you go doubly slow when someone is (nicely) waiting for your parking spot (the jerks who are being pushy deserve the time-span of Methuselah, don't get me wrong.) What about remote-control rage? This is where you submit the other members of your current viewing audience to your show (that you might not even like that much) just because THEY don't like it.
Today, one of my professors, in a long and round about way, informed me that basically while others can achieve a level in the class where they are exempt from the final, *I* will not be regardless of my standing (which is technically at the level for exemption already.) There is no rhyme or reason to it. I have the class syllabus, in her writing, with the requirements to get out of the final - and I meet them, and she has decided to change the rules for me. Ain't I just so darn special?
I'm proud of myself. I didn't lose my cool. I shrugged it off, and got out of there with a polite smile, and then called my husband on my cell and cursed long and loud enough to make the other students walking around give me a good 15 yard perimeter. I then contemplated crying, which makes no sense what-so-ever, except it's some sort of natural reaction that your body inflicts on you without permission. Damn double X-genes. I managed to cut that off before it even started though. Yay me.
I recognised what happened as a power play, and mentally chewed on it all the way home, and figured out that I need to 100% blow it off. It's my only option (the professor IS the head of the department, I have no where to go with this.) In order to take my power back, I'm just going to ignore all of it, and act like everyone is having to take the final - after all, if it were a normally set up class, everyone WOULD be taking it. I just have to ignore the bent rules, and whatnot.
And I need to remind myself that in three weeks I never have to see the witch again... at least as her being my professor.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Snow On Strike
We don't get any television reception where we live, that's one of the draw backs to living with mountains in every direction. So, we have a satellite system which provides us with "normal" television stations like ABC, NBC, etc. The up side to this is that we also get the local stations from New York AND California, as well as Colorado. I get to snoop into other states and their doings, which is always a fascinating experience.
Our news usually consists of grinning, laid back, sometimes wearing flannel, newscasters who talk about moose, and the smallest occurrence they can find. Seriously, if you end up in a fender bender, it WILL be on the news. Change the channel to New York or L.A., and suddenly it's car chases, murder, death, mayhem, destruction, liposuction and botox. Culture shock, anyone? But lately, the news in other states has been even more horrifying...
THEY HAVE MY SNOW! (OK, not LA or New York, but a bunch of other states I also get.)
We're fast closing in on December and I have not seen one solitary flake! Our news reported that this will be the least amount of snow in November in Vermont's history unless some amazing storm blows in before Friday. Well, since the forecast is almost 60 for tomorrow, I'm thinking we're going to go down in the history books instead.
This stinks.
I want my snow.
I know, most people don't like snow. It's cold. It's icy. It makes your car do the Fox Trot, and drivers behave like even bigger morons than they already do (which is a true feat out here, believe me.) But it's also pretty. It gives you a reason to snuggle in your soft warm pajamas after a hot bubble bath, in front of the crackling fireplace, with a scandalous romance novel, drinking hot chocolate (spiked with butterscotch schnapps, and topped with a dash of rum whipped cream...) and listen to the wind whistle outside with snow tapping against the windows.
It also gives me a chance to go out in my backyard (11 acres) and cross-country ski... all the while risking my life, because apparently I look like dinner to those darn coyotes out there that resemble timber wolves. It makes for a great workout, lots of fun, and the extra adrenalin kick from possibly being eaten by wolves helps spur you onward. I make a very modern Little Red Riding Hood, what can I say?
Last year I was able to ski ONCE. We got that little snow. It was horrible. Dreadful. Disgraceful. But, I had been nurturing high hopes for this season. Instead, I have 60 degree weather, and everyone ELSE on the west coast and Midwest has MY SNOW!
It's a plot, I tell you. Don't believe them, when they complain about the snow. They wouldn't have stolen it if they didn't want it.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
It's All In The Meaning
Life. It's back to semi-insane-normal. I suppose that is a good thing. But, as I sit here today, on a break between classes, with homework piling up, and professors threatening finals, I am reminded of one of the things I was slammed about over the holiday. My returning to college.
First of all, I was slammed for going to a college instead of a university.
The thing is, what the heck is the difference? So, I looked it up. In the USA, there really ISN'T a difference, minus the amount of degrees offered. In other countries, college means something more along the lines of trade-schools, and universities are solely what we think of as college here. Who knew? I was then informed by a friend who lives outside the US that I should never say I am going to college, but going to University, so it's clear. That just sounds weird to me... but I'm working on it.
However, the person who slammed me is from here. Apparently, I am a low-life because I go to a college (*ahem* University) that isn't big enough to have a front running team in football, or something. A true learning institution should have enough money to blow on massive sporting events if you want a good education, apparently.
I dunno. I don't think I'd look all that flattering in football gear. So, no real loss.
I was also slammed over my making this a priority NOW instead of when I should have. I was near accused of having children out of wedlock, the way it was said, instead of taking care of things like school when I should have. Sort of how you pictured life for those girls who got pregnant in high school and you knew it was going to be a tough road for them. This is where I started getting ticked off (I had downed one or three glasses of wine by this time, so it took a while to get my ire rolling.) I was married for almost 3 years by the time I had my first child. I went to college (university...) for my art and received a lesser degree, and chose not to continue because it was worthless in my particular line of work at the time. I was also moving all over the country, and it was impossible to commit like I needed to in order to graduate.
The sore spot it hits is that I always wish that I had the opportunity to go away to college like so many do. I didn't have that option due to many thing. So, to be accused in that way hit me just right. Enough to make me want to bite back. I didn't, not really, because what is the point? No one hears anything I say anyway. I honestly wish I had never told anyone I was back in school, it's none of their business in that family anyway. OK, and it would give me a perverse pleasure to exclude them in any way I could (not to mention protect myself from their comments.)
*sigh* I'm babbling. At least this semester is almost over. Three weeks people! Time is a'flyin'!
First of all, I was slammed for going to a college instead of a university.
The thing is, what the heck is the difference? So, I looked it up. In the USA, there really ISN'T a difference, minus the amount of degrees offered. In other countries, college means something more along the lines of trade-schools, and universities are solely what we think of as college here. Who knew? I was then informed by a friend who lives outside the US that I should never say I am going to college, but going to University, so it's clear. That just sounds weird to me... but I'm working on it.
However, the person who slammed me is from here. Apparently, I am a low-life because I go to a college (*ahem* University) that isn't big enough to have a front running team in football, or something. A true learning institution should have enough money to blow on massive sporting events if you want a good education, apparently.
I dunno. I don't think I'd look all that flattering in football gear. So, no real loss.
I was also slammed over my making this a priority NOW instead of when I should have. I was near accused of having children out of wedlock, the way it was said, instead of taking care of things like school when I should have. Sort of how you pictured life for those girls who got pregnant in high school and you knew it was going to be a tough road for them. This is where I started getting ticked off (I had downed one or three glasses of wine by this time, so it took a while to get my ire rolling.) I was married for almost 3 years by the time I had my first child. I went to college (university...) for my art and received a lesser degree, and chose not to continue because it was worthless in my particular line of work at the time. I was also moving all over the country, and it was impossible to commit like I needed to in order to graduate.
The sore spot it hits is that I always wish that I had the opportunity to go away to college like so many do. I didn't have that option due to many thing. So, to be accused in that way hit me just right. Enough to make me want to bite back. I didn't, not really, because what is the point? No one hears anything I say anyway. I honestly wish I had never told anyone I was back in school, it's none of their business in that family anyway. OK, and it would give me a perverse pleasure to exclude them in any way I could (not to mention protect myself from their comments.)
*sigh* I'm babbling. At least this semester is almost over. Three weeks people! Time is a'flyin'!
Monday, November 27, 2006
It's That Time Of Year Again
I know, you all are saying "Hey, darn it! It's still November, so knock it off!" Yeah well, I'm a forward thinker, so get over it.So, it IS that time of year again. No, not to think about gifts, but letters. Christmas letters, to be precise. We all know about these, and some of us even send them. They come in all shapes and sizes too:
* The Poem Variety: where you actually read the whole thing because you can't believe someone set their year in review in verse, and it never really comes out quite right.
* The Bragging Variety: where you want to throw up by the end... "Well, little Suzie is trying to challenge Einstein's Theory, with new evidence she came up with by calculating her stuffed teddy bears in reference to her barbie dolls in preschool, and Jimmy is up for the Nobel prize at eight years old! Mike got a promotion that came with a new Jaguar, and I won the lottery! But hey, it's not that big a deal, I mean - we all know 10 million is just pocket change!"
* The Tragedy Variety: these you have to take in portions, because if you read it all at once the feeling that you need to fling yourself off a cliff is too overwhelming... "Well... Mike got fired, little Suzie is in rehab after we caught her selling her barbie dolls for quick change on the corner, Jimmy stole the neighbor's bike and has been on the lam ever since, and I'm sleeping with the bankers to try and avoid house foreclosure... but, we hope you are all well."
* The "I HAVE to" Variety: these come in bullet points, and simply outline the basic details of the family and it's doings. "Mike - job, good. Suzie - Preschool, stopped biting others. Jimmy - Third Grade, doing fine. Me - Working, fine. Dog - groomed. Cat - alive. Merry Christmas."
* The Mystery Variety: These talk to you like you already know what is going on in their lives and only offer tiny clues as to what the heck they are talking about, and you end up more confused by the end of the letter than before you read it. Sometimes, they are only a handwritten note in the card, instead of a letter... "He survived the accident, and the lawyer thinks it'll be a good outcome. Happy Holidays!"
* The Biblical Proportions Variety: They. NEVER. End. They come in chapters. They take 16 stamps to mail to you in the first place. You never wanted to know that much detail about anyone in your entire life.
There are a few more, and several hybrids, but those really cover the bases. When I first got married, I didn't send a letter of any type. I got yelled at. People wanted to know what we were doing. (WHY?) Fine. So, I sent a brief little synopsis of what was happening, I mean it was JUST Mr. Savy and I. Got yelled at again, but I got over it then. As we had kids, we included a bit more detail. I made a decision to only really highlight one thing of accomplishment for each person, no tragedy at all, and one thing about the coming year. Nice, short, and sweet. You know what I learned? Different people expect different things. Some actually want that biblically long letter. Others want bullet points. EVERYONE complains. My solution ended up being writing the letter I wanted to, as I did before. They can bite me. And I ONLY send it to people who actually want to know. Otherwise, I just sign the card from the family and wish them a happy holiday.
Now, another interesting thing about Christmas cards/letters, is the "who's in, who's out" list. Do you have these? I didn't realize we were doing this until we were trying to figure out how many cards we need and we were crossing people off the list. Some of the deadly offenses include not sending a card for more than two consecutive years (missing one puts you on the probation list, apparently,) and ticking off one of the immediate family members in a more than casual way (these are usually friends who you really don't need in your life, but can be family too.) Then there is the divorced crowd of friends. Many of these people got married, and both of them were our friends - but since the divorce they have cut us off, or can't stand the fact that we're still married and have to keep sniping about it (apparently divorce makes you bitter, who knew?) The divorced crowd is tricky ground. What if one gets a card, but the other doesn't, and then finds out and crucifies you for it? OR they can't believe you are speaking to their ex... Ugh. Too much drama.
However, this year, interestingly enough, we have a VERY short list. So many friends got divorced and can't stand the fact that we're not, that made a nice cut. A big chunk of extended family showed their true colors, and C'est La Vie. Lastly, several on the probation list hit two or more years of consecutively ignoring our existence. That left us with a list of about 10 cards... MAYBE. Who knew that this Christmas card thing was so complicated?
The last issue, which I think is just stupid, is whether to wish someone a Merry Christmas, or a Happy Holiday. It's gotten way out of hand. So much so, that when I was looking at the Christmas cards, NONE said Merry Christmas, and SOME even said "Happy Winter".... Happy Winter? Erm... The schools aren't allowed to even SAY Merry Christmas. The stores all say Happy Holidays, but I did see one major retailer with a Merry Christmas sign this past weekend... how long do you think they have until the villagers show up with their torches and pitch-forks?
My opinion is this: I celebrate Christmas. I also have respect for every other holiday during that time. Because I celebrate Christmas, I will probably wish you a Merry Christmas. If you celebrate something else, I would fully expect you to wish me that back. If I don't celebrate your holiday, it would be insincere for me to wish it to you. I DO understand the nice clean "Happy Holidays" solution (though the Jehovah's Witness family at my daughter's school complains even about that, because they believe celebrating is evil), but I don't see why anyone would be offended being wished a Merry Christmas, or a Happy Chanukah, or a Merry Winter Solstice - even if THEY don't celebrate it. So, when I wish everyone a Merry Christmas this year on my blog, I hope no one will take offense and instead see it for what it really is - a wish from my world to yours, with no other implication than happiness for you.
Whoops, tripped over that soap box. Pardon me.
So, my box of cards was 20, and I have 10 (I think) left over. Anyone want a card?
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Unthinkable
Yesterday, I did the unthinkable.
I went out on the biggest shopping weekend of the year.
To Toys R Us.
I may never recover.
One of the drawbacks of having my son's birthday fall on Thanksgiving is that he gets birthday money he wants to spend right away, which usually ends up with me begging him to put it off for at least a week. But with the giving-relative in question actually HERE... well. There was simply no hope for me.
So, we drove the hour to town and braved the shops. I think the giant giraffe on the outside of the building was even wincing in sympathy at me. People were crammed into every aisle in the toy store. You would think that someone had said "We're not making anymore toys, this is it folks." People pushing other people out of the way, climbing up shelves (while hubby and I placed bets on who would break the other person's fall, or if the shelves were just going to go down like dominoes), and stressed out teenagers running around in red polyester vests with the sad sinking realization that minimum wage isn't enough to compensate for this.
Because we were in town at the shops anyway, I managed to con my way into one of the stores I wanted to go to. Christmas Tree Shops is a great store for stupid things you don't really need. But it's fun anyway, and I love looking at Christmas decor, which they normally have in bulk. I was disappointed this year, as they didn't have much. A very strange thing, if you ask me. We should get detectives on it.
Anyway, what I began to notice were a LOT of MEN everywhere. I mean, a LOT. I don't normally give in to stereotypes, but lets be honest here; in stores you usually see a ratio of at LEAST two women to every man present. In the toy store, I noticed that they at a 50/50 ratio and were full fledged participants in the shopping frenzy (does black Friday mean for men "must shop either NOW, or on Christmas eve"?) But in the Christmas Tree Shops, I noticed every single man had the expression on his face that he would rather be mopping out dumpsters than be HERE. Most of them were following obediently (if scowling) behind a woman who was piling his arms/cart high with all sorts of junk. The entertaining part was when one of the men would greet another man in passing. It was very much a sort of "I'm in hell, how 'bout you?" sort of sympathetic look, often accompanied by a grunt and nod.
The poor things. You think the wives took them to the women's clothing stores after that?
I realize I am a lucky woman to have a man who gets a kick out of shopping with me, and that HE is lucky that I rarely ever shop because I don't really have that desire to do so all that often. I need a REASON to be out shopping. I can't just... go. My friends like to browse and wander around, with no purpose in mind, and I respect that and all... but give me a mission, dagnabbit, or I am outta there.
We also managed to see the movie Happy Feet. I actually enjoyed it! You never quite know what you are walking into with a kids movie. I had to sit through both Garfield movies in the theater, and I could literally feel the life being sucked out of me frame by frame. Both my husband and I actually fell asleep in the Wallace & Gommit movie. You just never know. I figured since Cars was a good movie this year, my luck had run out, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed the movie quite a bit, and didn't doze off once.
Well, I'm going to go and try to regain some strength lost from yesterday's shopping expedition. Try to clear the screams echoing from my mind, and erase the images of people coming to near blows over stuffed Elmos and Amazing Alisons (two VERY creepy toys, if you ask me... )
I went out on the biggest shopping weekend of the year.
To Toys R Us.
I may never recover.
One of the drawbacks of having my son's birthday fall on Thanksgiving is that he gets birthday money he wants to spend right away, which usually ends up with me begging him to put it off for at least a week. But with the giving-relative in question actually HERE... well. There was simply no hope for me.
So, we drove the hour to town and braved the shops. I think the giant giraffe on the outside of the building was even wincing in sympathy at me. People were crammed into every aisle in the toy store. You would think that someone had said "We're not making anymore toys, this is it folks." People pushing other people out of the way, climbing up shelves (while hubby and I placed bets on who would break the other person's fall, or if the shelves were just going to go down like dominoes), and stressed out teenagers running around in red polyester vests with the sad sinking realization that minimum wage isn't enough to compensate for this.Because we were in town at the shops anyway, I managed to con my way into one of the stores I wanted to go to. Christmas Tree Shops is a great store for stupid things you don't really need. But it's fun anyway, and I love looking at Christmas decor, which they normally have in bulk. I was disappointed this year, as they didn't have much. A very strange thing, if you ask me. We should get detectives on it.
Anyway, what I began to notice were a LOT of MEN everywhere. I mean, a LOT. I don't normally give in to stereotypes, but lets be honest here; in stores you usually see a ratio of at LEAST two women to every man present. In the toy store, I noticed that they at a 50/50 ratio and were full fledged participants in the shopping frenzy (does black Friday mean for men "must shop either NOW, or on Christmas eve"?) But in the Christmas Tree Shops, I noticed every single man had the expression on his face that he would rather be mopping out dumpsters than be HERE. Most of them were following obediently (if scowling) behind a woman who was piling his arms/cart high with all sorts of junk. The entertaining part was when one of the men would greet another man in passing. It was very much a sort of "I'm in hell, how 'bout you?" sort of sympathetic look, often accompanied by a grunt and nod.
The poor things. You think the wives took them to the women's clothing stores after that?
I realize I am a lucky woman to have a man who gets a kick out of shopping with me, and that HE is lucky that I rarely ever shop because I don't really have that desire to do so all that often. I need a REASON to be out shopping. I can't just... go. My friends like to browse and wander around, with no purpose in mind, and I respect that and all... but give me a mission, dagnabbit, or I am outta there.
We also managed to see the movie Happy Feet. I actually enjoyed it! You never quite know what you are walking into with a kids movie. I had to sit through both Garfield movies in the theater, and I could literally feel the life being sucked out of me frame by frame. Both my husband and I actually fell asleep in the Wallace & Gommit movie. You just never know. I figured since Cars was a good movie this year, my luck had run out, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed the movie quite a bit, and didn't doze off once.
Well, I'm going to go and try to regain some strength lost from yesterday's shopping expedition. Try to clear the screams echoing from my mind, and erase the images of people coming to near blows over stuffed Elmos and Amazing Alisons (two VERY creepy toys, if you ask me... )
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Turkey Time
We're getting close to the Thanksgiving countdown, and now all the preparations are in the works. Family has arrived, things have been cleaned, and the gigantic turkey (26 lbs!) is in the refrigerator in the hopes that it'll thaw before we cook it - unlike a certain memorable Thanksgiving from years past.
Thanksgiving is really a weird holiday, if you think about it. To my husband, it means turkey, pumpkin pie and football (his CU Buff's are playing again, from what I hear.) To my kids, it's a parade, and a big meal. To me? It's a lot of darn work, that's what it is!
I'm tired, and so when I was at the store, I bought a pie. I don't have the energy this year to make one, and fudge, and rolls (which I bought too) and whatever else. Apparently, this is a sin. The sin of pie. I mean, I always knew pie was a sin, but not for this reason.
My husband was sitting at the table this morning trying to decide which side dishes should be present at the feast. Usually my husband and I split every chore around the house 50/50 - even the cooking of dinner. But when it comes to Thanksgiving, he reverts to a four year old. I have been told that this has something to do with the football, and not the holiday, but I'm not convinced yet.
Well, either way - I'll be up at 4 (more likely 5) a.m. tomorrow and stuffing the giant turkey. So if you are up and about (and likely stuffing your own turkey) just picture me waving at you, frozen turkey and all! And if you are from outsideof the US - have a fantastic thursday anyway!
Happy Thanksgiving, a smidge early.
Thanksgiving is really a weird holiday, if you think about it. To my husband, it means turkey, pumpkin pie and football (his CU Buff's are playing again, from what I hear.) To my kids, it's a parade, and a big meal. To me? It's a lot of darn work, that's what it is!
I'm tired, and so when I was at the store, I bought a pie. I don't have the energy this year to make one, and fudge, and rolls (which I bought too) and whatever else. Apparently, this is a sin. The sin of pie. I mean, I always knew pie was a sin, but not for this reason.
My husband was sitting at the table this morning trying to decide which side dishes should be present at the feast. Usually my husband and I split every chore around the house 50/50 - even the cooking of dinner. But when it comes to Thanksgiving, he reverts to a four year old. I have been told that this has something to do with the football, and not the holiday, but I'm not convinced yet.
Well, either way - I'll be up at 4 (more likely 5) a.m. tomorrow and stuffing the giant turkey. So if you are up and about (and likely stuffing your own turkey) just picture me waving at you, frozen turkey and all! And if you are from outsideof the US - have a fantastic thursday anyway!
Happy Thanksgiving, a smidge early.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Blogging - The New Milennium's Dirty Little Secret
Ahh, it's a nice lull between the storms here at the Savy-Castle. We had a birthday party (read that as eight screaming kids averaging around six years old) that just ended, and for some insane reason, we had decided a while back that a dinner party here tonight would be a good idea too.
Is it possible to commit suicide via social entertaining? I'm starting to think that we've gone so far into being hermits (partly our choice, partly our schedules being insane, and partly living out in the country - cows do not make good dinner GUESTS. They tend to show up with their own keg, slide down the banisters, and eat everything in the refrigerator.) So, I think it's possible that we're trying to cram a month's worth of socializing in one weekend.
Still, with all this entertaining going on, and so many people having family coming into town this weekend, or thereabouts... it has come to my attention that most people who blog do not tell their families that they do so. So, my fellow bloggers - how many of you have a blog which your family know about? How many would rather die than tell them?
At the college, poster after poster has been put up begging the students NOT to blog. "Please don't ever start a blog. Please don't ever start on MySpace, facebook, etc..." Why? Well, because employers are now searching online and may not hire you judging from what they find. Even more, they may not hire you because you have decided to speak out into the public realm at all, without any consideration to what you have written - Good OR bad. The warnings and articles go on and on, saying things like "What if your family stumbled onto your blog/page?"
Now, I assume that a great deal of that is aimed at the college student taking pictures of himself in a dress, kissing a mule for Rush Week or something. However, the point is valid. Once out there, it's out there. To get a picture of yourself OFF of google you have to sue them - even after you have deleted it on your own page.
OK, beyond business consequences though, the whole family thing is an interesting thought. They way people go on about it online (the anti-bloggers) it seems that blogging has become our "Dirty Little Secret". I think last millennium's was the "extra-marital-affair" - everything from King Arthur to soap operas, it was all about who is cheating on who. But now? Now it's the blog.
You can't tell if someone has a blog unless they advertise it to you. So, really, you have no idea if that time you tripped over the end cap of corn flakes and took the whole thing with you ended up out there on someone else's blog or not. If the friend you just confessed to is spilling your guts out there on a blog. Sure, we always had to worry about other people talking about us before, but never like this.
For me... well, I do so many stupid things, it's likely I will say something before anyone else does. As for my family; my husband knows. My parents know (but say they don't read it.) My extended family? A portion of them once did know I had a blog (my old one I shut down) and it was one of the worst things. Nothing like getting calls from a relative lecturing you about something you posted.
So, I'm now in the camp of "Tell my family? Over my dead body."
Is it possible to commit suicide via social entertaining? I'm starting to think that we've gone so far into being hermits (partly our choice, partly our schedules being insane, and partly living out in the country - cows do not make good dinner GUESTS. They tend to show up with their own keg, slide down the banisters, and eat everything in the refrigerator.) So, I think it's possible that we're trying to cram a month's worth of socializing in one weekend.
Still, with all this entertaining going on, and so many people having family coming into town this weekend, or thereabouts... it has come to my attention that most people who blog do not tell their families that they do so. So, my fellow bloggers - how many of you have a blog which your family know about? How many would rather die than tell them?
At the college, poster after poster has been put up begging the students NOT to blog. "Please don't ever start a blog. Please don't ever start on MySpace, facebook, etc..." Why? Well, because employers are now searching online and may not hire you judging from what they find. Even more, they may not hire you because you have decided to speak out into the public realm at all, without any consideration to what you have written - Good OR bad. The warnings and articles go on and on, saying things like "What if your family stumbled onto your blog/page?"
Now, I assume that a great deal of that is aimed at the college student taking pictures of himself in a dress, kissing a mule for Rush Week or something. However, the point is valid. Once out there, it's out there. To get a picture of yourself OFF of google you have to sue them - even after you have deleted it on your own page.
OK, beyond business consequences though, the whole family thing is an interesting thought. They way people go on about it online (the anti-bloggers) it seems that blogging has become our "Dirty Little Secret". I think last millennium's was the "extra-marital-affair" - everything from King Arthur to soap operas, it was all about who is cheating on who. But now? Now it's the blog.
You can't tell if someone has a blog unless they advertise it to you. So, really, you have no idea if that time you tripped over the end cap of corn flakes and took the whole thing with you ended up out there on someone else's blog or not. If the friend you just confessed to is spilling your guts out there on a blog. Sure, we always had to worry about other people talking about us before, but never like this.
For me... well, I do so many stupid things, it's likely I will say something before anyone else does. As for my family; my husband knows. My parents know (but say they don't read it.) My extended family? A portion of them once did know I had a blog (my old one I shut down) and it was one of the worst things. Nothing like getting calls from a relative lecturing you about something you posted.
So, I'm now in the camp of "Tell my family? Over my dead body."
Friday, November 17, 2006
Naive Or Denial?
The food industry is an interesting battle ground in the USA. I can't speak for elsewhere, so my international visitors will have to fill in their side of the story. However, here in the US, it's all about controversy.
I suppose the easiest example of this was the group of people who tried to sue McDonald's for making them fat. They lost, because unless someone is holding a gun against your head - YOU made yourself fat, not McDonald's. McDonald's is just the bullets in the gun, not the shooter - right? I happen to agree with the judicial decision, just to be clear.
But still, it really makes a person think. Are we really that stupid? Do a lot of people really think that a Big-Mac or Stuffed Crust pizza are healthy food choices? Do people really think that eating enough for a family of four is OK, as long as they use light butter on the rolls? Personally, my view on it is that we're not that stupid.
However, the government isn't taking any chances. They've launched two new programs to help the generic individual understand how to read and use a food label. I heard a study once (not connected to this program) that stated the reason that most Americans don't read the food label is that they cannot do the math to understand the information on the back. I think, however, that most Americans just don't want to KNOW.
The new program, aptly titled "Making Your Calories Count" takes it all the way down to the basics classifying food as low calorie (40 cals), Medium Calorie (100 cals), and high calorie (400 cals - anyone else think that's a big freakin' gap between 100 and 400?)
Well, here are some interactive things they have started: Click here to take the nutrition label test to see if you understand the labels. It starts out juvenile, but ends where I wonder if a gap exists for consumers or not. Honestly, I think if people are regularly missing the last couple questions, it's likely because we're busy and scanning too quickly, not because we don't know how to read the label. Still, it's a good quiz for people to go through, and they ought to make kids do it in the schools.
They've gone even further than this, with a whole training module. Click here to view the training module, and see what I am talking about - you'll recognize Mr. Label from the top of the post. It's animated and has sounds. Which makes it PERFECT for kids. It's all about calories, serving/portion sizes and figuring it out. I think this is probably a good idea, though I wonder how many people it will actually help. I think it'll be beneficial for children, and for a few people who may honestly just not know. But for the most part, I truly believe the majority sits in the camp of denial.
People don't want to be told they can't have something - even by themselves. So if they need to be looking at the back of the ice cream in order to determine whether or not it's OK for them to eat - knowing most likely it isn't, what are the chances they're actually going to DO that?
Cynicism aside, it's a good thing they did by creating the programs for the kids. I think it should be required by schools everywhere (I'm thinking junior high aged children? Too old, too young?) But for those adults who really don't want to be told what to do, not to mention what to put into their own bodies - is it going to help? I just don't see much hope in that area.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Doggie Aliens!
My dog, Max, has started acting very strangely. Ever since we built our house six + years ago, he has outright refused to go down into the basement. He goes upstairs all the time to our second floor without issue. It's just the basement. It wouldn't matter if we had a giant steak with his name on it, or that cat tied up with a bow waiting for him, there was NO WAY he was going down there.This didn't change when we finished the basement last year (OK, mostly finished. We still have to get trim up, and paint the doors. Details, details...) I really thought that carpet and walls would make a difference, but it hasn't. Interestingly, Cosmo (the small dog) also refuses to go down into the basement. I wonder if there is something in a Dog's nature that says going beneath ground level is inherently wrong?
The most Max has ever managed was to put his two front paws on the first step leading down into the basement. Even that seemed to be a struggle for him, as he would stare at his feet as though they had betrayed him, and might be bitten off at any moment by the mysterious invisible stair-piranhas. Clearly the carpet was just a ruse.
Another theory was that there was nothing for Max to go through his OCD routine with to get down the stairs. For example, my neurotic, insane dog cannot walk to ANY door in a straight line. He must, without exception, go through, around, or under something - even if the way is clear. This, of course, drives me crazy when I try to let him out of the garage and he has to weave between three chairs and underneath the kitchen table first, which is entirely OUT of the way. We had to get a taller kitchen table, because he started taking it with him (OK, and we're tall people, it was nice not feeling like I was sitting in preschoolers chairs, but Max was one of the reasons.) However, to go down stairs, there really isn't anything nearby for him to try and run an obstacle course through.
Well, for whatever the reason, he wasn't interested. Cosmo was the same way. But the cat actually liked it. I'm pretty sure he annoys the dogs and then shoots halfway down the basement stairs on purpose. If cats can meow "naaa-na-na-na-naaaanaaaa!" mine does.
Yesterday I was in the basement with my son. Minding my own business, playing games (nothing like a rip-roaring tournament of Candy-land!) When out of the corner of my eye a GIANT black shadow moved through the doorway.
I had a heart attack right there. I jumped about three feet into the air, and even my son was surprised. Max came down stairs! I found out later from my husband that he has been coming down into the basement for about a week (explains why the cat is so grouchy right now).
But, WHY?
Other personality traits have changed too. It's very weird. It's like a bad version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Did they take dogs? I can't remember.
Or maybe it's the mice. I opened up my garage door to set out my shoes last night, only to see several things by the shoes move. Turns out the mice were in the garage and shoe shopping. I am not afraid of mice. But when you go to do something and things are moving that are NOT supposed to be (out of the corner of your eye again) it does startle someone enough to bring them dangerously close to screaming like a girl. They seem very organized. Maybe they reprogrammed my dog.
That's what it is... The mice are planning a mass take-over of the world. Once they have control of everyone's pets, they're going to launch their full scale assault and enslave the human race, forcing them to make cheese for the rest of their lives, and outlawing cats.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Scrooges Start Young
I truly love the holiday season. I love lights and decorations (OK, up until a certain point. Some things are getting really tacky out there.) I love the smells, the music, the baking, everything. I usually start in November with the decorating and baking - so I can kick things into full swing by December. For us, Christmas isn't about the day or the gifts, but the fun surrounding the whole thing. Sleigh rides, cookie exchange parties, carols, eggnog, sitting by the fire reading holiday books. It's about being together and just really enjoying the end of the year over the entire time from Thanksgiving to New Year's Day.
But, this year I am just not ready for it. I can only offer up my scary college schedule as my excuse, and trust me, I feel plenty guilty for falling behind. As a matter of fact.... *gulp* I am NOT going to submit a gingerbread house into the contest. I would have to complete it THIS weekend, and we're celebrating my son's 6th birthday on Saturday and have other commitments, plus a pile of homework at least six-feet deep (just put my gravestone on top of the pile.) I do plan on doing one, but just for us here at home. *sigh* It's depressing me. But I just don't have the time to spend on it right before Thanksgiving and my son's birthday, and relatives showing up, etc. So, it'll just be a family affair this year.
While I may be starting late with the holiday preparations (...what? I need to buy a turkey?) and decorations (it takes weeks to put up our stuff, and we save decorating the family tree for after thanksgiving dinner. We decorate our tree on Thanksgiving because it's when we have family together with us, when no one else lives out here, and they become part of our holiday's even when they won't be able to be with us at Christmas. It's tradition.) However, the children are WAY ahead of the game.
My daughter came home yesterday and let us know that the yearly seasonal war has begun. Ever since my daughter was in kindergarten, we have had problems with one particular family around the holidays. Their youngest daughter is two years older than my daughter, but they ride the bus together. They also have a daughter who is four years older to back up the younger one. What could they possibly be fighting about? Well, it just so happens that the family are Jehovah Witnesses.
For those who don't know, this means they don't celebrate Christmas. They don't celebrate ANYTHING - AT ALL. Not even birthdays. As a matter of fact, when my daughter was in kindergarten and was getting ready for her birthday party, this little witch told my daughter that celebrating birthdays were evil and that she would die and go to hell because of it, and that presents meant she was an evil and bad person. My daughter was crying, and trying to cancel the party because she was afraid to celebrate her birthday because she thought it meant she was going to die right then and there! (I was so mad, I called the school and told them what was going on and said "since this is going on at school, either you handle it, or I WILL." They did, the family apologised...sorta. They then explained that this is their religion and that she felt her daughter was right in informing my daughter about the mistake she was making, but hey... now they'll keep their opinions to themselves since the errand had been completed and my daughter informed. Can you see the fire shooting out of my finger tips???)
Well, my daughter survived her birthday and a couple others too. But the battleground has moved from birthdays to the holidays. Everyone is fair game - if you celebrate it, these kids are going after any chink in the armor. There is the big "Santa doesn't exist" that most parents have to deal with. But they have stepped it up this year saying that if Santa did exist, he was/is a demon. Because, look at those powers he has! So, why would you believe in a demon? Only demons offer gifts. Celebrating is evil. Etc.
So, imagine the talks in my house this week. *sigh* Add to that the newly minted Jr. High school kids (all the grades ride the bus together, K-12, because we're so small town.) My daughter wanted to know why the kids only cared about what they were getting. I guess some of the teenagers were saying things like "If I don't get that MP3 Cell Phone I want, I'll never speak to my mom again...." and other things along that line.
My daughter just didn't understand - and for that, I am eternally grateful. While my kids enjoy the gifts, it's a small part of the holiday (we don't go all out on Christmas. We spend about a maximum of $50 per child, including stocking stuffers. Maybe inflation will make us bump that up - but for the last few years it's been good.) The making gingerbread houses together, and singing carols, and going out to look at the lights, and so on are what make the holiday for us. Oh, and the cartoons - because if you don't see Snoopy with his ticked out dog house or The Grinch carving the roast beast, it's just not Christmas.
All these Scrooges everywhere, and they're starting early. From the religious scary people, to the bratty kids who think the world revolves around them.... I've never understood why people who hate the holidays feel the need to inflict their view on everyone else and try to ruin other people's fun. I had one friend who is a self proclaimed Scrooge say that it's because WE inflict our holidays on THEM by putting up trees and lights in every shopping mall and gas station imaginable, and they're just striking back - Fair's fair, right? Except I can't see how making someone else feel bad on purpose when they're happy is fair. Maybe it's just me.
So - How do you all deal with Scrooges? Yes, I know, it's not December yet - but the Scrooge-season has already begun. And if YOU are a Scrooge - why? I know it's all vogue to be a Scrooge, to complain about the commercialism - but that isn't what the holidays are really about. I don't like the commercialism either - but that is NOT the holiday, not unless you make it that way. So, why?
But, this year I am just not ready for it. I can only offer up my scary college schedule as my excuse, and trust me, I feel plenty guilty for falling behind. As a matter of fact.... *gulp* I am NOT going to submit a gingerbread house into the contest. I would have to complete it THIS weekend, and we're celebrating my son's 6th birthday on Saturday and have other commitments, plus a pile of homework at least six-feet deep (just put my gravestone on top of the pile.) I do plan on doing one, but just for us here at home. *sigh* It's depressing me. But I just don't have the time to spend on it right before Thanksgiving and my son's birthday, and relatives showing up, etc. So, it'll just be a family affair this year.
While I may be starting late with the holiday preparations (...what? I need to buy a turkey?) and decorations (it takes weeks to put up our stuff, and we save decorating the family tree for after thanksgiving dinner. We decorate our tree on Thanksgiving because it's when we have family together with us, when no one else lives out here, and they become part of our holiday's even when they won't be able to be with us at Christmas. It's tradition.) However, the children are WAY ahead of the game.
My daughter came home yesterday and let us know that the yearly seasonal war has begun. Ever since my daughter was in kindergarten, we have had problems with one particular family around the holidays. Their youngest daughter is two years older than my daughter, but they ride the bus together. They also have a daughter who is four years older to back up the younger one. What could they possibly be fighting about? Well, it just so happens that the family are Jehovah Witnesses.
For those who don't know, this means they don't celebrate Christmas. They don't celebrate ANYTHING - AT ALL. Not even birthdays. As a matter of fact, when my daughter was in kindergarten and was getting ready for her birthday party, this little witch told my daughter that celebrating birthdays were evil and that she would die and go to hell because of it, and that presents meant she was an evil and bad person. My daughter was crying, and trying to cancel the party because she was afraid to celebrate her birthday because she thought it meant she was going to die right then and there! (I was so mad, I called the school and told them what was going on and said "since this is going on at school, either you handle it, or I WILL." They did, the family apologised...sorta. They then explained that this is their religion and that she felt her daughter was right in informing my daughter about the mistake she was making, but hey... now they'll keep their opinions to themselves since the errand had been completed and my daughter informed. Can you see the fire shooting out of my finger tips???)
Well, my daughter survived her birthday and a couple others too. But the battleground has moved from birthdays to the holidays. Everyone is fair game - if you celebrate it, these kids are going after any chink in the armor. There is the big "Santa doesn't exist" that most parents have to deal with. But they have stepped it up this year saying that if Santa did exist, he was/is a demon. Because, look at those powers he has! So, why would you believe in a demon? Only demons offer gifts. Celebrating is evil. Etc.
So, imagine the talks in my house this week. *sigh* Add to that the newly minted Jr. High school kids (all the grades ride the bus together, K-12, because we're so small town.) My daughter wanted to know why the kids only cared about what they were getting. I guess some of the teenagers were saying things like "If I don't get that MP3 Cell Phone I want, I'll never speak to my mom again...." and other things along that line.
My daughter just didn't understand - and for that, I am eternally grateful. While my kids enjoy the gifts, it's a small part of the holiday (we don't go all out on Christmas. We spend about a maximum of $50 per child, including stocking stuffers. Maybe inflation will make us bump that up - but for the last few years it's been good.) The making gingerbread houses together, and singing carols, and going out to look at the lights, and so on are what make the holiday for us. Oh, and the cartoons - because if you don't see Snoopy with his ticked out dog house or The Grinch carving the roast beast, it's just not Christmas.
All these Scrooges everywhere, and they're starting early. From the religious scary people, to the bratty kids who think the world revolves around them.... I've never understood why people who hate the holidays feel the need to inflict their view on everyone else and try to ruin other people's fun. I had one friend who is a self proclaimed Scrooge say that it's because WE inflict our holidays on THEM by putting up trees and lights in every shopping mall and gas station imaginable, and they're just striking back - Fair's fair, right? Except I can't see how making someone else feel bad on purpose when they're happy is fair. Maybe it's just me.So - How do you all deal with Scrooges? Yes, I know, it's not December yet - but the Scrooge-season has already begun. And if YOU are a Scrooge - why? I know it's all vogue to be a Scrooge, to complain about the commercialism - but that isn't what the holidays are really about. I don't like the commercialism either - but that is NOT the holiday, not unless you make it that way. So, why?
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Ouch...
This must be a sign of getting old. I do things, and things in my body break, and then I complain about them. I'll be well versed in how to complain about my broken body by the time I retire. I'm going to make one heck of a scary old lady!
I was hoping that I would feel better today. I was also hopping to win the lottery. I figure I had about the same chances of either. And guess what? I didn't win the lottery.
Worse yet, there was no way I could skip school today due to several major commitments. So here I am, suffering through my classes, popping ibuprofen like candy, and contemplating asking some of the "shadier" students for something else.... (No, I never would, but I have to think about SOMETHING!) I have tried to sit in every class I have next to a wall so I can lean my head against it. This worked out great until a lecture at noon. A lecture that would NEVER end. Where the students kept asking questions - these students who can't put a coherent thought together before Thursday, and they had 35 questions?!?!! Are you kidding me? Someone hates me.
I thought I was going to die. My teacher came up to me afterwards and asked what was wrong, and then suggested a chiropractor... you know, before I scowl through another lecture and unnerve the people around me. Hey, I'd be just fine, if they would only allow me to lay on the floor during class.
I may actually have to break down and call the doctor tomorrow. Do you think he'll prescribe muscle relaxants over the phone, or will I have to haul my butt to his office 30 minutes away and beg?
Maybe I'm just a distant cousin of the Tin-Man and I only need oil.
Chocolate oil.
Chocolate oil on a tranquil Caribbean island.
Chocolate oil on a tranquil Caribbean island with handsome cabana boys.
(help me)
I was hoping that I would feel better today. I was also hopping to win the lottery. I figure I had about the same chances of either. And guess what? I didn't win the lottery.
Worse yet, there was no way I could skip school today due to several major commitments. So here I am, suffering through my classes, popping ibuprofen like candy, and contemplating asking some of the "shadier" students for something else.... (No, I never would, but I have to think about SOMETHING!) I have tried to sit in every class I have next to a wall so I can lean my head against it. This worked out great until a lecture at noon. A lecture that would NEVER end. Where the students kept asking questions - these students who can't put a coherent thought together before Thursday, and they had 35 questions?!?!! Are you kidding me? Someone hates me.
I thought I was going to die. My teacher came up to me afterwards and asked what was wrong, and then suggested a chiropractor... you know, before I scowl through another lecture and unnerve the people around me. Hey, I'd be just fine, if they would only allow me to lay on the floor during class.
I may actually have to break down and call the doctor tomorrow. Do you think he'll prescribe muscle relaxants over the phone, or will I have to haul my butt to his office 30 minutes away and beg?
Maybe I'm just a distant cousin of the Tin-Man and I only need oil.
Chocolate oil.
Chocolate oil on a tranquil Caribbean island.
Chocolate oil on a tranquil Caribbean island with handsome cabana boys.
(help me)
Monday, November 13, 2006
Hybrids
Anyone own a hybrid car? Talk to me about it - what do you have? Like it, don't?
(I know short post, but I blew out my upper back and sitting upright is challenging right now, and typing laying down is not one of my many talents...)
(I know short post, but I blew out my upper back and sitting upright is challenging right now, and typing laying down is not one of my many talents...)
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Adopt A Husband
We went to the mall yesterday. Trust me, it wasn't my first choice for a way to spend my Saturday. I am missing the female shopping gene, for the most part. Unfortunately, we had the dreaded yearly family photo to take. Worse yet... OK, maybe most guys won't get this but... worst bad-hair day of the year. There were other problems too, and I plan on forcing the family to retake them in February. There is no way I am going to look at these photos for a whole YEAR.
*sigh*
Now, while we were at the mall, we decided we would get lunch and maybe browse a bit. Seems like a good thing to do since we're never there, right? Well, the only problem with that was that everyone else already had the same idea.
It's not December, right? I haven't gone into a coma and woken up with the Holidays in full swing, correct? I don't like how early the stores start in on pushing holiday sales. Everywhere I looked at the mall there were giant fake trees, lights, bells, boxes, horribly sung Christmas carols, and really, really, REALLY pushy sales people with Santa hats on, fighting each other to get to you. The mall was as packed as it was last year a week before Christmas. Total insanity!!!
At the food court, there were lines 30 people deep for every single food outlet. We managed to snag a table, but we were one of the few. People were perched on every available surface, and some were IN the potted plants while scarfing down their lunch. Behind our table were the Screamin'-Osmund's. One woman, seven children, three of which were decidedly VERY unhappy, and one who figured that turning around and screaming in my ear would get more results than at mommy.
Anyone else feel a migraine coming on?
Even worse, and tell me if this happens where you are, were the people with the shopping carts. Malls do NOT provide shopping carts, individual large stores do. These people feel that the cart is their personal property until they leave the mall. Not the store, but the mall. They push that cart all over, most have their children in it too. At the food court there were at least five people with shopping carts from various outlets just in our immediate vicinity.
I don't know why, but this just annoys the heck out of me. It turns me into a sniping witch when I see these people pushing their carts through the throngs, and up to a table or through a different store that is clearly not designed for shopping carts as it is the size of my living room. I just want to yell at them to stop being so darn lazy and either take their purchases to their car and then come back, OR buy a damn stroller already!
Moving on.
In the midst of the throng of what were apparently Holiday shoppers, I started noticing a few key changes to a lot of stores. The best example of this was at Sears. Sears had started a big remodel the last time we were up in town (the mall is an hour from us, so that was a while ago), and I really didn't pay it much attention. However, this time when we came back I was amazed to see that the women's fitting room area had been turned into a full scale living room. It had big plush couches with fishing and tool magazines on the coffee and end tables. It was all done in a masculine dark blue denim type of fabric.
On the couches sat the abandoned husband club. Other stores have put in this manly living-room type of waiting area too. Every one of them we passed yesterday were packed with men, and some assorted children.
Really, it's a terrifically smart idea. How many times have you seen the poor abandoned puppy dog of a husband leaning against a wall, holding a woman's purse, and wishing he was anywhere on this earth but there? Yesterday it was standing room only, men everywhere. The women's lingerie section was hidden from view, and the racks of women's clothing had been pushed all the way back and out of range so no one could mistakenly think these men were sitting in the women's clothing area. Apparently, it was the Testosterone-Home-Base (like home-base-safety when you played tag as a kid?)
I was able to observe the area for a little while on my own. I felt a little like a National Geographic scientist observing animals in the wild. The men wouldn't speak to one another (apparently speech would indicate acceptance of being dumped in the man-pound or something.) Some of the men would pace around the living room area as if the frilly clothing surrounding the edges were electrified bars, and they mustn't cross the threshold. Others glanced through the magazines of tools, glancing up hopefully when the bell dinged upon someone exiting the fitting room.
Really, it reminded me of the animal shelter. I remember going to the shelter when they had the big "adopt a pet" promotion. The animals would jump to attention every time they heard a door open. They would put on the big puppy-dog eyes in the hopes that someone would say "That one is mine! I'll take him home!"
I wonder if it wasn't really a waiting area, but a trading area. Do you think all those husbands went home with the wives they came with?
*sigh*
Now, while we were at the mall, we decided we would get lunch and maybe browse a bit. Seems like a good thing to do since we're never there, right? Well, the only problem with that was that everyone else already had the same idea.
It's not December, right? I haven't gone into a coma and woken up with the Holidays in full swing, correct? I don't like how early the stores start in on pushing holiday sales. Everywhere I looked at the mall there were giant fake trees, lights, bells, boxes, horribly sung Christmas carols, and really, really, REALLY pushy sales people with Santa hats on, fighting each other to get to you. The mall was as packed as it was last year a week before Christmas. Total insanity!!!
At the food court, there were lines 30 people deep for every single food outlet. We managed to snag a table, but we were one of the few. People were perched on every available surface, and some were IN the potted plants while scarfing down their lunch. Behind our table were the Screamin'-Osmund's. One woman, seven children, three of which were decidedly VERY unhappy, and one who figured that turning around and screaming in my ear would get more results than at mommy.
Anyone else feel a migraine coming on?
Even worse, and tell me if this happens where you are, were the people with the shopping carts. Malls do NOT provide shopping carts, individual large stores do. These people feel that the cart is their personal property until they leave the mall. Not the store, but the mall. They push that cart all over, most have their children in it too. At the food court there were at least five people with shopping carts from various outlets just in our immediate vicinity.
I don't know why, but this just annoys the heck out of me. It turns me into a sniping witch when I see these people pushing their carts through the throngs, and up to a table or through a different store that is clearly not designed for shopping carts as it is the size of my living room. I just want to yell at them to stop being so darn lazy and either take their purchases to their car and then come back, OR buy a damn stroller already!
Moving on.
In the midst of the throng of what were apparently Holiday shoppers, I started noticing a few key changes to a lot of stores. The best example of this was at Sears. Sears had started a big remodel the last time we were up in town (the mall is an hour from us, so that was a while ago), and I really didn't pay it much attention. However, this time when we came back I was amazed to see that the women's fitting room area had been turned into a full scale living room. It had big plush couches with fishing and tool magazines on the coffee and end tables. It was all done in a masculine dark blue denim type of fabric.
On the couches sat the abandoned husband club. Other stores have put in this manly living-room type of waiting area too. Every one of them we passed yesterday were packed with men, and some assorted children.
Really, it's a terrifically smart idea. How many times have you seen the poor abandoned puppy dog of a husband leaning against a wall, holding a woman's purse, and wishing he was anywhere on this earth but there? Yesterday it was standing room only, men everywhere. The women's lingerie section was hidden from view, and the racks of women's clothing had been pushed all the way back and out of range so no one could mistakenly think these men were sitting in the women's clothing area. Apparently, it was the Testosterone-Home-Base (like home-base-safety when you played tag as a kid?)
I was able to observe the area for a little while on my own. I felt a little like a National Geographic scientist observing animals in the wild. The men wouldn't speak to one another (apparently speech would indicate acceptance of being dumped in the man-pound or something.) Some of the men would pace around the living room area as if the frilly clothing surrounding the edges were electrified bars, and they mustn't cross the threshold. Others glanced through the magazines of tools, glancing up hopefully when the bell dinged upon someone exiting the fitting room.
Really, it reminded me of the animal shelter. I remember going to the shelter when they had the big "adopt a pet" promotion. The animals would jump to attention every time they heard a door open. They would put on the big puppy-dog eyes in the hopes that someone would say "That one is mine! I'll take him home!"
I wonder if it wasn't really a waiting area, but a trading area. Do you think all those husbands went home with the wives they came with?
Friday, November 10, 2006
Demolition Derby Grocery Shopping
I just got back from the grocery store, and all I have to say is "WHAT the HECK is wrong with people?!?!?!"
I realize that today is a holiday (Veteran's Day, technically tomorrow, but observed today.) Kids are out of school. Adults are off of work. Cats and Dogs are tolerating each other, fishes and birds are falling in love - it's mass chaos. I get it. AND it's a Friday. I get that too. Grocery shopping on a Friday is tantamount to a suicide mission.
But this was really over the top today. For some reason, the grocery store had the brilliant idea to invite every SINGLE stocker to go out at once with giant pallets and work in every aisle. I literally couldn't get through half of them. Now add to that everyone and their second cousins out shopping at once. Yeah, the booze aisle started looking really appealing.
I was in the meat aisle picking out a pound of ground beef. No one was there (miraculously) when I got there. I figured out which one I wanted and was reaching in to grab it when I almost fell IN. You see an older woman (I'd guess about late 60's early 70's, 300 lbs, 5'4, blue hair, baby blue outfit from the 1950's - if you see her, run for your life) I had spotted way on the other end of the aisle had made her way down and didn't care if I was in the way. She had literally pushed her cart into me, and KEPT ON PUSHING.
Not once did the evil old bat STOP pushing while pretending to look at the meat, but glaring at me out of the corner of her eye. It was unbelievable! Also, it's HARD to get out of someone's way when they're pushing into your side with a cart. When i finally managed it, she almost hit my children with it!
Would that it had only been her! Another old woman was in the baking aisle, and my son was in the way. I called him to step back and let her through - and my son jumped back and said he was sorry (remember he is only 5), and she "hrrrrrmmmmpph"ed and mumbled something to the effect of children do not belong in grocery stores. My kids don't run around, grab stuff, yell, cry or anything like most children do, and STILL it's not good enough for these people.
In another aisle I was on one side of a middle of the aisle setup some moron store manager thought would be a good idea to throw in people's way to trip them up. It wasn't in the center of the walkway, but against the side. My cart was parked after it, so as not to block the way. Another woman (about 10 years older than I am) came through with an overloaded cart, and angrily informed me (to my turned back, because I was reaching for my own selections and watching my children) that *I* needed to move the display to allow her through, and NOW!
Excuse me? I don't work here. I don't work for you. I don't know you. I didn't put that display there. I didn't overload your cart. And why the heck didn't you go down a different aisle then?
No, I didn't move anything for her. I said "I don't work here", turned my back and left. What I WANTED to say involved a lot of colorful phrases, six of which might have been legally actionable.
Anyway, various scenarios of this repeated itself throughout the shopping trip, and then when I got to my car... I got the kids settled and was unloading my cart into the back of my car. A car actually pulled up and HONKED at me. When I looked at them, they made the motions to hurry up, so they could have my spot!
Um... NO!
Worse yet, there were open spots not four spaces down from my own!!! It's not like we live in a big city. It's not as if it's 60 below zero (yet.) It's not as if I was in a handicap spot. It's not as if I even had a GREAT spot.
The only thing I can figure is that maybe they're all republicans and having problems dealing with their anger issues. Other than that, I have no explanation for the behavior I witnessed today. I felt like I should have looked around for a camera, and it was all a joke. Or maybe it was residual bad luck left over from yesterday?
I can't wait for the day when I can actually grocery shop online and just have it all show up at my door. *sigh* I know in some places they're sort of doing this. We'll probably be the last... in the world.
I realize that today is a holiday (Veteran's Day, technically tomorrow, but observed today.) Kids are out of school. Adults are off of work. Cats and Dogs are tolerating each other, fishes and birds are falling in love - it's mass chaos. I get it. AND it's a Friday. I get that too. Grocery shopping on a Friday is tantamount to a suicide mission.
But this was really over the top today. For some reason, the grocery store had the brilliant idea to invite every SINGLE stocker to go out at once with giant pallets and work in every aisle. I literally couldn't get through half of them. Now add to that everyone and their second cousins out shopping at once. Yeah, the booze aisle started looking really appealing.
I was in the meat aisle picking out a pound of ground beef. No one was there (miraculously) when I got there. I figured out which one I wanted and was reaching in to grab it when I almost fell IN. You see an older woman (I'd guess about late 60's early 70's, 300 lbs, 5'4, blue hair, baby blue outfit from the 1950's - if you see her, run for your life) I had spotted way on the other end of the aisle had made her way down and didn't care if I was in the way. She had literally pushed her cart into me, and KEPT ON PUSHING.
Not once did the evil old bat STOP pushing while pretending to look at the meat, but glaring at me out of the corner of her eye. It was unbelievable! Also, it's HARD to get out of someone's way when they're pushing into your side with a cart. When i finally managed it, she almost hit my children with it!
Would that it had only been her! Another old woman was in the baking aisle, and my son was in the way. I called him to step back and let her through - and my son jumped back and said he was sorry (remember he is only 5), and she "hrrrrrmmmmpph"ed and mumbled something to the effect of children do not belong in grocery stores. My kids don't run around, grab stuff, yell, cry or anything like most children do, and STILL it's not good enough for these people.
In another aisle I was on one side of a middle of the aisle setup some moron store manager thought would be a good idea to throw in people's way to trip them up. It wasn't in the center of the walkway, but against the side. My cart was parked after it, so as not to block the way. Another woman (about 10 years older than I am) came through with an overloaded cart, and angrily informed me (to my turned back, because I was reaching for my own selections and watching my children) that *I* needed to move the display to allow her through, and NOW!
Excuse me? I don't work here. I don't work for you. I don't know you. I didn't put that display there. I didn't overload your cart. And why the heck didn't you go down a different aisle then?
No, I didn't move anything for her. I said "I don't work here", turned my back and left. What I WANTED to say involved a lot of colorful phrases, six of which might have been legally actionable.
Anyway, various scenarios of this repeated itself throughout the shopping trip, and then when I got to my car... I got the kids settled and was unloading my cart into the back of my car. A car actually pulled up and HONKED at me. When I looked at them, they made the motions to hurry up, so they could have my spot!
Um... NO!
Worse yet, there were open spots not four spaces down from my own!!! It's not like we live in a big city. It's not as if it's 60 below zero (yet.) It's not as if I was in a handicap spot. It's not as if I even had a GREAT spot.
The only thing I can figure is that maybe they're all republicans and having problems dealing with their anger issues. Other than that, I have no explanation for the behavior I witnessed today. I felt like I should have looked around for a camera, and it was all a joke. Or maybe it was residual bad luck left over from yesterday?
I can't wait for the day when I can actually grocery shop online and just have it all show up at my door. *sigh* I know in some places they're sort of doing this. We'll probably be the last... in the world.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Tempting Fate
Today I get the distinct impression I am walking on thin ice. You know the feeling; you aren't doing enough wrong to be in trouble yet - but one sneeze in the wrong direction and someone is going to nail you like a polecat to the wall?
I woke up this morning after bad dreams to find the world engulfed in thick fog. Never a good sign. I was then 15 minutes late getting out of my house (and I forgot two of my meals), only to end up following a police car the ENTIRE WAY to school (we're talking 40 MILES, folks - I started to wonder if he was actually looking for me...) Do you think that works as an excuse for being late? "I'm really sorry, but I wasn't able to break the law and speed past the patrol officer who was probably running and rerunning my plates the whole time. I'm sure if you call the police department they would be happy to corroborate my story!"
Yeah, not so much.
I then was informed that today is the Bermuda triangle of test days. I have NO idea why. It's past midterms, too early for finals. I think they're just being sadistic, if you really want to know. I have one major assignment, and two major tests down - but I'm facing at LEAST one more, possibly two. I got out of one early, but never checked my watch and absent mindedly ended up walking into the middle of someone else's class.
Go me.
At least I was clothed. (Of course, if I hadn't been then I could convince myself this was all a dream and wake up. OK, or be arrested. Or join the Lacrosse team. Perhaps end up a study case for the psychology department.)
It's noon, and I'm ready to go back to bed. Maybe the fog was a supernatural warning, portending vicious tests and personal stupidity to come. Do they make barometers for that? At this point, I am just hoping I make it home in one piece, where I will immediately workout (because I have no choice) and then shower, get into my flannel PJ's and speak to NO ONE - because I just know it'll get me into trouble.
So, if anyone asks - you haven't seen me.
Shhhh....
I woke up this morning after bad dreams to find the world engulfed in thick fog. Never a good sign. I was then 15 minutes late getting out of my house (and I forgot two of my meals), only to end up following a police car the ENTIRE WAY to school (we're talking 40 MILES, folks - I started to wonder if he was actually looking for me...) Do you think that works as an excuse for being late? "I'm really sorry, but I wasn't able to break the law and speed past the patrol officer who was probably running and rerunning my plates the whole time. I'm sure if you call the police department they would be happy to corroborate my story!"
Yeah, not so much.
I then was informed that today is the Bermuda triangle of test days. I have NO idea why. It's past midterms, too early for finals. I think they're just being sadistic, if you really want to know. I have one major assignment, and two major tests down - but I'm facing at LEAST one more, possibly two. I got out of one early, but never checked my watch and absent mindedly ended up walking into the middle of someone else's class.
Go me.
At least I was clothed. (Of course, if I hadn't been then I could convince myself this was all a dream and wake up. OK, or be arrested. Or join the Lacrosse team. Perhaps end up a study case for the psychology department.)
It's noon, and I'm ready to go back to bed. Maybe the fog was a supernatural warning, portending vicious tests and personal stupidity to come. Do they make barometers for that? At this point, I am just hoping I make it home in one piece, where I will immediately workout (because I have no choice) and then shower, get into my flannel PJ's and speak to NO ONE - because I just know it'll get me into trouble.
So, if anyone asks - you haven't seen me.
Shhhh....
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Radiation and Hoops
Well, it finally happened. You may recall the lovely, yet frightening, new convection & microwave oven that we purchased a little while back. You may also recall that I harbor a deep fear of it going nuclear on me, not the least threat of which was the fact that the oven was LINED IN METAL. On top of that, is the metal pieces they give you to work with the oven in different combinations (seen in the photo inside the oven.)BUT, in this case, the rules were STILL the same - no metal when it's in microwave mode.
Everyone knows I am married to the absent minded professor by now (and if not, well there ya go. I married a rocket scientist with no memory - kinda makes you feel all warm and safe inside, doesn't it?) I have been paranoid about the metal items being in the microwave since we got it, and my husband always acts like I'm being an idiot and says "Nothing will happen Kyra, knock it off"
Well you know what he did? HE left the metal stuff in it, and MICROWAVED a loaf of frozen bread - and walked away.
I came strolling by the kitchen, minding my own business while procrastinating on my homework, and noticed a small amount of lightening by the stove. Huh. OK... *kept on walking....* (oh crap) "I didn't really see that, did I?"
I bolted back to the kitchen and jerked the door open to get it to stop (because apparently I'm too stupid to find a RED off button in a panic.) I then started shouting for my husband in a very Banshee-like manner. Hey, at least I can admit it. I rarely give into stereo-types, but apparently trying to blow up my house throws me immediately one step short of the nasty wife in worn pink bathrobe, blue curlers, green face mask, white bunny slippers holding a rolling pin ready to beat my husband senseless.Mr. Savy came back around the corner looking slightly bewildered and rather frightened (as he should be!) I pointed out what he had done, while he stared abashedly at the stove.... and then said "Hmmm. I suppose I should have looked in the microwave before using it."
Brilliant.
Now, apparently there is no major lasting damage. However, I am back to being full on afraid of the microwave again. I mean, what does lightning do to the inside of those things anyway.? Is it possible that there now is a minuscule leak, and I'll be irradiating myself every time I warm up a bowl of oatmeal?
I suppose if I start glowing in the dark, I'll have some idea as to why.
Now for the hoops.
I hate hoops. The only hoop I ever liked jumping through was a hula-hoop and I was seven.
I'm registering for classes today (against my better judgement at this point - though the naked guy in the school yesterday was a nice perk...) and low and behold, the college has established even MORE hoops I have to jump through. The most entertaining one for today is that they have decided NOT to count the accounting class (from hell) that THEY signed me up for as accounting I, as accounting I.
I am, of course, making sure I have my list of exotic swear words all lined up and ready to go as the 9:00 am registrars office opening approaches. Not that I swear at them, I usually do it while stomping around the house afterwards. Still, it pays to be prepared. I am sure this is just a computer glitch, mix-up, someone didn't do their damn job even though I am paying through the nose for this "education" issue, and all will be resolved with violins playing, birds chirping, and the sun rising gently in the distance.
But until then.... "#@%#%$#@$#%$#!!!!!!"
I just tried calling, and they're not answering their phones.... coincidence?
I think not.
Update: Got it all worked out. Registered and got all the classes I needed. All six of them. Six long classes. *sniffle*
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Have You Voted Yet?
I'm serious, go vote people. Vote for politicians who DON'T terrorize you with mailers, emails, fliers, phone calls, in person, or shoving stuff beneath your door and terrorizing your dog.
Wait, does that leave anyone? Oh hell, vote for me then! I promise to wear completely inappropriate dress to all state functions, trip President Bush every time I come within range, and to pass out Reese's peanut butter cups and M&M's to all those deprived of chocolate.
I'm a deep, caring individual, what can I say?
I plan on voting tonight with my children in tow (per the request of the teachers who apparently want me to brainwash my kids into thinking that the election circus antics are normal this year), and I'm hoping for enough blank space at the bottom of the ballot to write something to the effect of "And if another one of you SOB's mails, calls or shows up at my door, I WILL pull your legs off and reattach them at your ears!"
These politicians may think they have done a good thing by assaulting us this year with their loudmouthed campaigns, but I can't tell you how many people have said "I WAS going to vote for that guy, but they called me like 20 times, and said this about their opponents, and well... Screw'em. I'm either going to vote for the other one, or not at all."
Hello? Not good, campaign-people. Get a clue.
Honestly, if I didn't feel so darn guilty about NOT voting, I probably wouldn't because I am so mad this year. There isn't any way to vote against them ALL, minus that, so that won't work. Ever since I studied the women's movement to vote and everything they went through, I have major guilt if I don't make it to the polls. So tonight, I will be driving over an HOUR out of my way to get to the stupid poll before it closes AFTER a NINE hour day at school PLUS two hours of drive time on top of that.
So, no excuses! Get off your duff, and get there. Get it done. Think up nasty things to write on the bottom about the political stalkers, whatever you need to motivate you (do you think they'll give me a spare sheet of paper to continue my thoughts?) But get there.
OK, now that I have done my duty - I have to tell you that a naked man just ran by the classroom, and I really feel that this bares (ha!) further investigation. WHAT? I'm 31, NOT dead, and I believe that he was from the college Lacrosse team.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Stalkers
I think my local politicians are stalking me.
This is the definition of stalking:
Just this weekend alone, I have received 16 political calls from recorded candidates (two of them featuring George Bush blabbering away), three different polling offices, two candidates actually STOPPED BY MY HOUSE, and one group (not sure if it was a candidate or a bunch of volunteers) - when I didn't answer the door, shoved their laminated flier beneath my front door THROUGH the brand new weather stripping we just put on, which resulted in driving my dog, Cosmo, almost to a seizure as he freaked out and bolted up and down the stairs in terror barking at the emerging flier from beneath the door.
Cosmo won't even walk by the door now, taking alternate routes through the house. When he has to go by in order to go upstairs, he zips around the corner with his tail between his legs, dashes up the stairs, then turns and glares down at the door once he's at the top as if to say "I am NOT afraid... I am really a big bad mean dog! HA!" Max (my big Labrador), finds this behavior disgraceful, and deliberately sits at the door, glancing back at Cosmo just to taunt him in his cowardice.
The cat has shown no reaction other than boredom. He's my rock, what can I say?
I don't ever remember an election year this bad. Sure, the last time this swung around I had to dive behind the couch every time I saw a car drive into my driveway, or else be forced to shake hands and act like I care about this person begging for my vote. But, really, it was only an occasional happenstance. (Do the politicians visit any of you? This must be part of my punishment for moving out of the city.) The real problem last time was the big hoopla over civil unions. At least I understood what the big deal was regardless of my opinions.
But WHAT on earth is driving this all out attack on the voters this time? Is this really all because of the sumo-wrestling match going on between the democrats vs. the republicans? I try to ignore politics - and politicians - as much as possible. But when they're making an all out assault via the telephone, my mailbox (I got ONE legitimate piece of mail and 12 fliers or campaign junk of some sort on Friday), my email, my radio stations (I haven't heard a normal commercial on the radio in weeks), my television (two political ads for every one normal ad - I counted last night), and IN PERSON - it's kinda hard to miss. I'm telling you, I think it qualifies as stalking!
My parents say the phone calls have been incessant in Arizona as well - so I know it's not just Vermont. I tried to get off the calling list when I stupidly answered the phone on one of the political calls. I was very NASTILY informed in legalease that political groups have the right to call whomever they want because they don't fall under the telemarketing rules and regulations, and so I would just have to deal with it. (Yeah. That made ME want to vote for the jerk in question. Way to go, moron.)
In the middle of all of this, the religious bible thumpers decided it would be a good time to join the herd. WHY? I don't like it when they show up at any other time, they're much more likely to be shot while this is going on because people's patience has been worn thin. Are they suicidal? I had three of those groups stop by. I got my requisite J.Witness, another group that I am not entirely sure who they belonged to but I got a very "Waco-Texas" feel from them, and then the third group was a bunch of old ladies crammed into a giant Oldsmobile, with one younger person below the age of 400 driving. I was so mad (and in the middle of a research paper) when they showed up, I stood on my porch glaring at them and one ran up handed the flier and beat a hasty retreat without trying to save my soul or condemn me to damnation at all. I wonder if that counts for their tally, then?
Is anyone else under siege? Thank goodness this will be over SOON. But even when it is, I think something should be done. This has just been insane, this time around. Do you think I can sue for Cosmo's post traumatic stress disorder caused by the flier?
This is the definition of stalking:
Stalking is a legal term for repeated harassment or other forms of invasion of a person's privacy in a manner that causes fear to its target. Statutes vary between jurisdiction but may include such acts as:
- repeated following;
- unwanted contact (by letter or other means of communication);
- observing a person's actions closely for an extended period of time; or
- contacting family members, friends, or associates of a target inappropriately
- cyberstalking
Just this weekend alone, I have received 16 political calls from recorded candidates (two of them featuring George Bush blabbering away), three different polling offices, two candidates actually STOPPED BY MY HOUSE, and one group (not sure if it was a candidate or a bunch of volunteers) - when I didn't answer the door, shoved their laminated flier beneath my front door THROUGH the brand new weather stripping we just put on, which resulted in driving my dog, Cosmo, almost to a seizure as he freaked out and bolted up and down the stairs in terror barking at the emerging flier from beneath the door.
Cosmo won't even walk by the door now, taking alternate routes through the house. When he has to go by in order to go upstairs, he zips around the corner with his tail between his legs, dashes up the stairs, then turns and glares down at the door once he's at the top as if to say "I am NOT afraid... I am really a big bad mean dog! HA!" Max (my big Labrador), finds this behavior disgraceful, and deliberately sits at the door, glancing back at Cosmo just to taunt him in his cowardice.The cat has shown no reaction other than boredom. He's my rock, what can I say?
I don't ever remember an election year this bad. Sure, the last time this swung around I had to dive behind the couch every time I saw a car drive into my driveway, or else be forced to shake hands and act like I care about this person begging for my vote. But, really, it was only an occasional happenstance. (Do the politicians visit any of you? This must be part of my punishment for moving out of the city.) The real problem last time was the big hoopla over civil unions. At least I understood what the big deal was regardless of my opinions.
But WHAT on earth is driving this all out attack on the voters this time? Is this really all because of the sumo-wrestling match going on between the democrats vs. the republicans? I try to ignore politics - and politicians - as much as possible. But when they're making an all out assault via the telephone, my mailbox (I got ONE legitimate piece of mail and 12 fliers or campaign junk of some sort on Friday), my email, my radio stations (I haven't heard a normal commercial on the radio in weeks), my television (two political ads for every one normal ad - I counted last night), and IN PERSON - it's kinda hard to miss. I'm telling you, I think it qualifies as stalking!
My parents say the phone calls have been incessant in Arizona as well - so I know it's not just Vermont. I tried to get off the calling list when I stupidly answered the phone on one of the political calls. I was very NASTILY informed in legalease that political groups have the right to call whomever they want because they don't fall under the telemarketing rules and regulations, and so I would just have to deal with it. (Yeah. That made ME want to vote for the jerk in question. Way to go, moron.)
In the middle of all of this, the religious bible thumpers decided it would be a good time to join the herd. WHY? I don't like it when they show up at any other time, they're much more likely to be shot while this is going on because people's patience has been worn thin. Are they suicidal? I had three of those groups stop by. I got my requisite J.Witness, another group that I am not entirely sure who they belonged to but I got a very "Waco-Texas" feel from them, and then the third group was a bunch of old ladies crammed into a giant Oldsmobile, with one younger person below the age of 400 driving. I was so mad (and in the middle of a research paper) when they showed up, I stood on my porch glaring at them and one ran up handed the flier and beat a hasty retreat without trying to save my soul or condemn me to damnation at all. I wonder if that counts for their tally, then?
Is anyone else under siege? Thank goodness this will be over SOON. But even when it is, I think something should be done. This has just been insane, this time around. Do you think I can sue for Cosmo's post traumatic stress disorder caused by the flier?
Recommittment
Starting Over.
*sigh*
It's not a nice thing to face - AGAIN. I think that part of my reason for failing so often (self-sabotage) is that I am at a point in my life where I don't want to be continually working on trying to lose weight and trying to make my body into something it will never be (i.e. one of my major issues cannot be fixed without surgery - and we did decide to let me get it, but I am afraid of it too, PLUS I refuse to get any surgery without getting to the best I can without it first. I truly see it as the LAST resort, and finish I suppose.)
Before I went back to school, exercise/nutrition was something I could obsess about. I didn't have much else going on in my life. People don't understand, and that is OK - but suffice it to say that when your kids are old enough that they don't need you all the time, and your job involves sitting in your studio in your house painting (very solitary) and suddenly you look around and realize you haven't even been OUTSIDE in three days, much less talked to another adult besides your husband in two weeks, your life starts to close in on you a bit. Obsessing about something would be only natural - for me it was my weight/fitness efforts.
I was very successful when my son was an infant. Probably because my life was so full and occupied that the fitness nutrition aspect was a side pursuit that worked out really well. But as things changed and I became isolated, it turned into something else. I channeled that into a marathon. I achieved the marathon, but screwed up my metabolism (gained about 35 lbs from it.) This shot me down a spiral of depression and futile attempts to lose weight even when I did everything right. After about a year and a half, things changed and I COULD lose weight. And I did.... about 14 lbs. But then I stalled out to where I am now. Now, it is officially a WHOLE year that I have sat at this weight and been able to DO something about it.
Everything I did worked somewhat (it isn't like it used to be, it's still harder. But that shouldn't matter) however, I always sabotaged my efforts at some point. Maybe because it was all I had in my life for ME to work on. Sure, I had obligations to my family, housework, etc - but they became obligations and not something that made my life feel like it was my own. My painting and writing just left me further isolated. Yes, they're my outlet, but when they are all you have and you are ALWAYS alone and not moving forward in some fashion in your life - well, the only "active progress oriented" activity I had was weightloss.
So, I think I kept sabotaging it so I had something. I recognised that, and other issues, and knew I needed to do something. So, I went back to school. Because of several elements involved, I REALLY went back to school. I took 20 credit hours this semester at a college 40 miles away from me. I believe this would be classified as diving into the deep end.
At first I did great balancing my school and life with my fitness and nutrition. I thought it was going to work. But I ended up sabotaging myself again. I know this is partly because my weight-machine hasn't been operational this entire time. It's difficult to do what needs to be done without access. I even considered joining a gym, but the closest one is 30 minutes away from me - so that would add an hour commute just to lift weights three days a week (I would do cardio at home - school days.)
But maybe that is something I should consider. Maybe joining a gym would be a good idea? I'll have to think on this a bit more. It would give me access to more things (like a swimming pool, and more weight machines.)
Anyway, tangent... where was I?
The stress became extremely high, and I sabotaged this time not to keep the one thing I had, but to remind myself of me. It was something familiar to me, when everything else felt crazy. I know the feeling of being mad at myself or depressed over my weight, or embarrassed. Even though those are bad things, I KNOW them, and this stress from school is NEW. I haven't been to college since 1997. Nine years is a long time. And I didn't have any obligations then but a part time job.
A family puts a whole new (and difficult) spin on things.
But I want this. I want school. I want my fitness (technically I am still fit - you can't run miles and leg press 600lbs and bench more than you weigh without being fit, but PART of being truly fit is NOT being FAT too. And I am - at least to my mind. I realize that technically I am in my weight range, but that is a BIG range when you are my height - I'm NOT in the "ideal" or healthy range I SHOULD be. That last piece MUST fall into line.) I needed to recommit. To both school and fitness, actually, and to my family. I messed up on Halloween and realized that in order to do this, committing to school is fine, but committing to A's may not be if it costs me something more important. I am readjusting my thought process to B's are fine - worst case, C's are fine - I JUST need to pass.
I also need my body to NOT be an issue. The hardest part way back when I was successful was to maintain. Because I wasn't accomplishing anything and it was my primary focus. I now would LOVE that, because I have a new primary focus and focusing on just maintaining is what I WANT to be doing. Hence, I think why I sabotaged this time around. I just want to maintain. And I am, but I am not at a point where I should be.
OK, long winded - but what's the point? I'm going back to old BFL. It's the least time consuming of my options. It's like a maintenance plan anyway (because you can perpetually stay on it after you achieve your results.) I won't be tracking calories (I haven't been anyway) but I will be tracking my weight, and meals. It's basically what I was trying to do anyway, but I am recommitting to it. Maybe I'll join a gym once I am successful with it (or maybe before... we'll see) I need to get myself to a place where I can maintain and be happy about it.
I am also recommited to school with a different angle on it, just passing is the goal - because my family is primary to me. This also includes not switching to an online degree program, AND it means I still will be taking another 20 credit hours NEXT semester (after that it's 15-18 - IF I take two courses during the summer... we'll see.) This is going to be hard - all aspects of it. I bring up recommitting to school because registration starts tomorrow for the spring semester.
So today, I recommit to my plan. Wednesday (the day they allow me to) I recommit to school. And today, I get the house cleaned, Halloween stuff taken down, and start bringing out my winter decor - because that's something that is important to my family.
My goals for the next 6 months are as follows :
*Family: Be there when I need to be, regardless of other commitments. They come first - even for the little stuff that might seem less important on the surface.
*Fitness/Nutrition: Reach a goal of either; scale weight 145, or BF% 16-19. Maintain muscle mass (I have plenty, no need to bulk.)
*School: Just keep at it. Planned graduation is Spring of 2008. This will cause a serious course load, but it's the only way - plus it costs the same. I'll get it done one way or another.
*Art: I didn't mention this earlier, but I haven't even lifted my paintbrush since I started school. It's making me miserable. Somewhere in this I need to find a way to paint at least once a week.
****UPDATE! Good news! My husband just managed to fix my weight machine! WOOHOO!!! Back in business, baby!!!
And a response to an email: Why am I a personal trainer if I am not at goal weight and still struggle too.
I am a personal trainer because I became one while seeking out the information I wanted and needed to become healthy. Why do I help people even though I struggle too? Because I am human. Some people may want the barbie-perfect personal trainer, but that will never be me. For me, personally, if I hired a personal trainer I would want one who had BEEN THERE. *I* have been there. I was obese. I worked hard to change that. I was not athletic. I worked hard to change that.
I know what it takes, I know how hard it is, and I know what it's like in the long term to both succeed AND fail. That makes ME a valuable asset for someone who wants a trainer who "gets" it. There are a lot of "perfect" trainers out there for those who want them. But I am here too, with the same knowledge and a different experience base. That is why. I'm not for everyone, but I might be just what someone else is looking for. Struggle doesn't make me less knowledgeable or helpful. It makes me a real person who has real knowledge to offer to those I suit.
*sigh*
It's not a nice thing to face - AGAIN. I think that part of my reason for failing so often (self-sabotage) is that I am at a point in my life where I don't want to be continually working on trying to lose weight and trying to make my body into something it will never be (i.e. one of my major issues cannot be fixed without surgery - and we did decide to let me get it, but I am afraid of it too, PLUS I refuse to get any surgery without getting to the best I can without it first. I truly see it as the LAST resort, and finish I suppose.)
Before I went back to school, exercise/nutrition was something I could obsess about. I didn't have much else going on in my life. People don't understand, and that is OK - but suffice it to say that when your kids are old enough that they don't need you all the time, and your job involves sitting in your studio in your house painting (very solitary) and suddenly you look around and realize you haven't even been OUTSIDE in three days, much less talked to another adult besides your husband in two weeks, your life starts to close in on you a bit. Obsessing about something would be only natural - for me it was my weight/fitness efforts.
I was very successful when my son was an infant. Probably because my life was so full and occupied that the fitness nutrition aspect was a side pursuit that worked out really well. But as things changed and I became isolated, it turned into something else. I channeled that into a marathon. I achieved the marathon, but screwed up my metabolism (gained about 35 lbs from it.) This shot me down a spiral of depression and futile attempts to lose weight even when I did everything right. After about a year and a half, things changed and I COULD lose weight. And I did.... about 14 lbs. But then I stalled out to where I am now. Now, it is officially a WHOLE year that I have sat at this weight and been able to DO something about it.
Everything I did worked somewhat (it isn't like it used to be, it's still harder. But that shouldn't matter) however, I always sabotaged my efforts at some point. Maybe because it was all I had in my life for ME to work on. Sure, I had obligations to my family, housework, etc - but they became obligations and not something that made my life feel like it was my own. My painting and writing just left me further isolated. Yes, they're my outlet, but when they are all you have and you are ALWAYS alone and not moving forward in some fashion in your life - well, the only "active progress oriented" activity I had was weightloss.
So, I think I kept sabotaging it so I had something. I recognised that, and other issues, and knew I needed to do something. So, I went back to school. Because of several elements involved, I REALLY went back to school. I took 20 credit hours this semester at a college 40 miles away from me. I believe this would be classified as diving into the deep end.
At first I did great balancing my school and life with my fitness and nutrition. I thought it was going to work. But I ended up sabotaging myself again. I know this is partly because my weight-machine hasn't been operational this entire time. It's difficult to do what needs to be done without access. I even considered joining a gym, but the closest one is 30 minutes away from me - so that would add an hour commute just to lift weights three days a week (I would do cardio at home - school days.)
But maybe that is something I should consider. Maybe joining a gym would be a good idea? I'll have to think on this a bit more. It would give me access to more things (like a swimming pool, and more weight machines.)
Anyway, tangent... where was I?
The stress became extremely high, and I sabotaged this time not to keep the one thing I had, but to remind myself of me. It was something familiar to me, when everything else felt crazy. I know the feeling of being mad at myself or depressed over my weight, or embarrassed. Even though those are bad things, I KNOW them, and this stress from school is NEW. I haven't been to college since 1997. Nine years is a long time. And I didn't have any obligations then but a part time job.
A family puts a whole new (and difficult) spin on things.
But I want this. I want school. I want my fitness (technically I am still fit - you can't run miles and leg press 600lbs and bench more than you weigh without being fit, but PART of being truly fit is NOT being FAT too. And I am - at least to my mind. I realize that technically I am in my weight range, but that is a BIG range when you are my height - I'm NOT in the "ideal" or healthy range I SHOULD be. That last piece MUST fall into line.) I needed to recommit. To both school and fitness, actually, and to my family. I messed up on Halloween and realized that in order to do this, committing to school is fine, but committing to A's may not be if it costs me something more important. I am readjusting my thought process to B's are fine - worst case, C's are fine - I JUST need to pass.
I also need my body to NOT be an issue. The hardest part way back when I was successful was to maintain. Because I wasn't accomplishing anything and it was my primary focus. I now would LOVE that, because I have a new primary focus and focusing on just maintaining is what I WANT to be doing. Hence, I think why I sabotaged this time around. I just want to maintain. And I am, but I am not at a point where I should be.
OK, long winded - but what's the point? I'm going back to old BFL. It's the least time consuming of my options. It's like a maintenance plan anyway (because you can perpetually stay on it after you achieve your results.) I won't be tracking calories (I haven't been anyway) but I will be tracking my weight, and meals. It's basically what I was trying to do anyway, but I am recommitting to it. Maybe I'll join a gym once I am successful with it (or maybe before... we'll see) I need to get myself to a place where I can maintain and be happy about it.
I am also recommited to school with a different angle on it, just passing is the goal - because my family is primary to me. This also includes not switching to an online degree program, AND it means I still will be taking another 20 credit hours NEXT semester (after that it's 15-18 - IF I take two courses during the summer... we'll see.) This is going to be hard - all aspects of it. I bring up recommitting to school because registration starts tomorrow for the spring semester.
So today, I recommit to my plan. Wednesday (the day they allow me to) I recommit to school. And today, I get the house cleaned, Halloween stuff taken down, and start bringing out my winter decor - because that's something that is important to my family.
My goals for the next 6 months are as follows :
*Family: Be there when I need to be, regardless of other commitments. They come first - even for the little stuff that might seem less important on the surface.
*Fitness/Nutrition: Reach a goal of either; scale weight 145, or BF% 16-19. Maintain muscle mass (I have plenty, no need to bulk.)
*School: Just keep at it. Planned graduation is Spring of 2008. This will cause a serious course load, but it's the only way - plus it costs the same. I'll get it done one way or another.
*Art: I didn't mention this earlier, but I haven't even lifted my paintbrush since I started school. It's making me miserable. Somewhere in this I need to find a way to paint at least once a week.
****UPDATE! Good news! My husband just managed to fix my weight machine! WOOHOO!!! Back in business, baby!!!
And a response to an email: Why am I a personal trainer if I am not at goal weight and still struggle too.
I am a personal trainer because I became one while seeking out the information I wanted and needed to become healthy. Why do I help people even though I struggle too? Because I am human. Some people may want the barbie-perfect personal trainer, but that will never be me. For me, personally, if I hired a personal trainer I would want one who had BEEN THERE. *I* have been there. I was obese. I worked hard to change that. I was not athletic. I worked hard to change that.
I know what it takes, I know how hard it is, and I know what it's like in the long term to both succeed AND fail. That makes ME a valuable asset for someone who wants a trainer who "gets" it. There are a lot of "perfect" trainers out there for those who want them. But I am here too, with the same knowledge and a different experience base. That is why. I'm not for everyone, but I might be just what someone else is looking for. Struggle doesn't make me less knowledgeable or helpful. It makes me a real person who has real knowledge to offer to those I suit.
Friday, November 03, 2006
McScary
I remember a time when eating at McDonald's was cool. Actually, I even remember a time when eating at McDonald's was special.
I was about seven years old, and it was all about the playground. We didn't have any pansy-plastic-slides and ballrooms with nets to play on that are cushioned for falls and accessible to parents! Oh, heck no! We had an outdoor playground where everything was constructed out of cold, HARD steel, and shaped like a food item or character from their marketing campaign.
You could ride on a fry-guy, or climb into the Hamburglar's tower where I got stuck because I was taller than all the other kids by almost a foot, owing to my Sasquatch genetics. I then had a panic attack since I was trapped in a METAL hamburger five feet off the ground with bars around it (the one I was in had an enclosed base and more bars, unlike the photo.) I was in hamburger-jail, with images of firemen using the jaws of life to free me from my two-all-beef patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-sesame-seed-cell. I think it was likely only due to the amount of oil in the fries I was able to contort and squeeze myself back out to freedom!
In the summer you could cause third degree burns from any of the equipment, and in the winter you could lose skin to the surfaces from frostbite. If you were too much of a wimp to risk bodily harm, you could stay inside and talk to a big scary tree with freaky moving eyes while you ate dinner (and kept darting looks at your parents in hopes that they would reassure you that you wouldn't be eaten by the tree.) Hey, to a seven year old, it was awesome!
Moving forward, as a teenager, it was really cool to be able to sucker the only one of the group who had a car into driving us to McDonald's. We would monopolise a corner for at least three hours, and pay for our food in spare change (usually pennies, cause we were mean like that.) I remember having a great time, as it was quite the social event for the 15/16 aged crowd. Occasionally, a cute guy(s) would come in, and it would be Flirt-Central. Not that I ever landed a date over chicken-nuggets, but it was fun back then anyway.
I don't really like McDonald's (I guess I OD'd on it when I was a teenager) so we don't go that often - maybe two or three times a year? What the heck has happened to McDonald's? Is it like this everywhere? Now, we don't have that many out here. The ONLY fast food restaurant within an hour radius is ONE McDonald's, but it's in a nice area of town.
My mother-in-law sent the kids McCoupons for Halloween. My son and I had the evening together, so I figured I'd make it a treat while we were out running errands. It was a Wednesday night (I mention this on the off chance that this might be the reason for what I am about to relate?) When we walked in, it was like witnessing the soup-kitchen of the living dead.
The only people there were truckers who looked like escaped pedophiles, families with 106 children who looked like they should hit the laundromat... maybe the haz-mat... NOT WEARING SHOES (it's NOVEMBER in New England... 28 degrees.....) and several people I can only classify as Scary-Loners.
Each of the truckers kept eyeing everyone else as if they were sizing them up for some sort of sinister plot. Seriously, I turned around to find a couple of them looking sideways at us. I mean SIDEWAYS, in that creepy "I'm a pSssssssssSSSSSsssssssycho!!!" posture.
The in-need-of-soap families were running wild and spilling ketchup (and other things) all over the place. Kids standing on tables, laughing as they dumped over little Suzie's juice, throwing fries at each other. The parents laughing, and for all intensive purposes encouraging the bad behavior. Deliberately farting and burping loudly, trying to outdo each other (both the parents AND the children.) Not to mention the fact that there were about three of these families there, two of which I am certain had a blood feud going on between them by the way they glared at one another (I was waiting for them to pull out the spittoons and riffles.)
Each of the Scary-Loners brought their own crossword puzzles with them - when they sat down they OCD-arranged all their food items and lined up their french-fries (anyone ever see the commercial for the show Monk when he's in the diner counting peas?) then glared at everyone else out of the corner of their eye while trying to figure out their puzzles. I actually saw one recount the fries, apparently come up short, and start glaring at those around her as if to say "who filched my fry!!!!"
My son and I found the farthest corner to sit and chat. He didn't seem to notice anything, and we had a lovely conversation all about kindergarten - but I couldn't get out of there fast enough!!!
When did it turn into that? Is it because I was there on a week night? I remember it being fine when I would take my kids there on a Saturday afternoon out about five years ago. Granted, as I said, we never went there all that often. I walked out of there thinking that something had gone seriously wrong, and I will do everything in my power to NOT go back.... EVER.
Sure, McDonald's has always been McLowRent. We all know this. I just don't ever remember it having sunk to that level before - and that includes some very frightening truck stops on the way from Colorado to California! In this case, on Wednesday, I can't complain about the building itself or the service - it was nice and clean and courteous. It was the clientele that was freaking me out.
Is this a new thing, or did I just notice it? Is this what happens when you drop the transfats from the fast-food? People go into withdrawals and de-evolve?
I was about seven years old, and it was all about the playground. We didn't have any pansy-plastic-slides and ballrooms with nets to play on that are cushioned for falls and accessible to parents! Oh, heck no! We had an outdoor playground where everything was constructed out of cold, HARD steel, and shaped like a food item or character from their marketing campaign.
You could ride on a fry-guy, or climb into the Hamburglar's tower where I got stuck because I was taller than all the other kids by almost a foot, owing to my Sasquatch genetics. I then had a panic attack since I was trapped in a METAL hamburger five feet off the ground with bars around it (the one I was in had an enclosed base and more bars, unlike the photo.) I was in hamburger-jail, with images of firemen using the jaws of life to free me from my two-all-beef patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-sesame-seed-cell. I think it was likely only due to the amount of oil in the fries I was able to contort and squeeze myself back out to freedom!In the summer you could cause third degree burns from any of the equipment, and in the winter you could lose skin to the surfaces from frostbite. If you were too much of a wimp to risk bodily harm, you could stay inside and talk to a big scary tree with freaky moving eyes while you ate dinner (and kept darting looks at your parents in hopes that they would reassure you that you wouldn't be eaten by the tree.) Hey, to a seven year old, it was awesome!
Moving forward, as a teenager, it was really cool to be able to sucker the only one of the group who had a car into driving us to McDonald's. We would monopolise a corner for at least three hours, and pay for our food in spare change (usually pennies, cause we were mean like that.) I remember having a great time, as it was quite the social event for the 15/16 aged crowd. Occasionally, a cute guy(s) would come in, and it would be Flirt-Central. Not that I ever landed a date over chicken-nuggets, but it was fun back then anyway.
I don't really like McDonald's (I guess I OD'd on it when I was a teenager) so we don't go that often - maybe two or three times a year? What the heck has happened to McDonald's? Is it like this everywhere? Now, we don't have that many out here. The ONLY fast food restaurant within an hour radius is ONE McDonald's, but it's in a nice area of town.
My mother-in-law sent the kids McCoupons for Halloween. My son and I had the evening together, so I figured I'd make it a treat while we were out running errands. It was a Wednesday night (I mention this on the off chance that this might be the reason for what I am about to relate?) When we walked in, it was like witnessing the soup-kitchen of the living dead.
The only people there were truckers who looked like escaped pedophiles, families with 106 children who looked like they should hit the laundromat... maybe the haz-mat... NOT WEARING SHOES (it's NOVEMBER in New England... 28 degrees.....) and several people I can only classify as Scary-Loners.
Each of the truckers kept eyeing everyone else as if they were sizing them up for some sort of sinister plot. Seriously, I turned around to find a couple of them looking sideways at us. I mean SIDEWAYS, in that creepy "I'm a pSssssssssSSSSSsssssssycho!!!" posture.
The in-need-of-soap families were running wild and spilling ketchup (and other things) all over the place. Kids standing on tables, laughing as they dumped over little Suzie's juice, throwing fries at each other. The parents laughing, and for all intensive purposes encouraging the bad behavior. Deliberately farting and burping loudly, trying to outdo each other (both the parents AND the children.) Not to mention the fact that there were about three of these families there, two of which I am certain had a blood feud going on between them by the way they glared at one another (I was waiting for them to pull out the spittoons and riffles.)
Each of the Scary-Loners brought their own crossword puzzles with them - when they sat down they OCD-arranged all their food items and lined up their french-fries (anyone ever see the commercial for the show Monk when he's in the diner counting peas?) then glared at everyone else out of the corner of their eye while trying to figure out their puzzles. I actually saw one recount the fries, apparently come up short, and start glaring at those around her as if to say "who filched my fry!!!!"
My son and I found the farthest corner to sit and chat. He didn't seem to notice anything, and we had a lovely conversation all about kindergarten - but I couldn't get out of there fast enough!!!
When did it turn into that? Is it because I was there on a week night? I remember it being fine when I would take my kids there on a Saturday afternoon out about five years ago. Granted, as I said, we never went there all that often. I walked out of there thinking that something had gone seriously wrong, and I will do everything in my power to NOT go back.... EVER.
Sure, McDonald's has always been McLowRent. We all know this. I just don't ever remember it having sunk to that level before - and that includes some very frightening truck stops on the way from Colorado to California! In this case, on Wednesday, I can't complain about the building itself or the service - it was nice and clean and courteous. It was the clientele that was freaking me out.
Is this a new thing, or did I just notice it? Is this what happens when you drop the transfats from the fast-food? People go into withdrawals and de-evolve?
On The Edge of a Knife... Or Fork
My blog has been teetering for a while on the line of the basic focus. I have some people who stop by for the "life" posts, and others for the "fitness" ones. Lately, I have gotten comments or emails asking why fitness hasn't been discussed more on my blog. The reason for this is because my life expanded, and it was helpful for me to think on other things for a while because otherwise I would start into a self-destructive spiral about my health and fitness.
I should probably qualify that with: When my life gets nuts, I get stupid.
Some people drink, or do drugs when life feels like it's trying to run you over. I don't necessarily eat, but instead I do whatever would make me upset with myself physically so I can focus on what a miserable slob I am instead of whatever it is in my life that is driving me to distraction. In short, it's an avoidance technique.
I'm freaked about all the stress in my life? I might eat mass quantities of something I d
I should probably qualify that with: When my life gets nuts, I get stupid.
Some people drink, or do drugs when life feels like it's trying to run you over. I don't necessarily eat, but instead I do whatever would make me upset with myself physically so I can focus on what a miserable slob I am instead of whatever it is in my life that is driving me to distraction. In short, it's an avoidance technique.
I'm freaked about all the stress in my life? I might eat mass quantities of something I d