My War Buddies

I have friends who have been my friends for 20 or 25 years. We spent hundreds of hours doing our hair together and putting on makeup years before we needed any of it. We talked about our futures. We talked about what our lives would hold. We struggled through puberty together. We commiserated over the curse that befalls girls. It taught us about solidarity. It made us war buddies, inseparable sisters. Last Friday, one of my ‘sisters’ told me she needs a hysterectomy. She is so young. Although she wasn’t planning on having more children, there still seems to be a sadness…a loss. And though I am hundreds of miles away, I grieve for her and with her. Old friends are like that. Time and distance could never claim a divisive victory amongst old friends.
I had a realization that all of my closet friends growing up did not have sisters. I think that is how we came together and to be so close. We were in a world of men and boys trying to find ourselves and figure it all out. We were there together as we began womanhood and shared all of the craziness that goes with that. Again, we were girls figuring out what being a women means in a world of men and boys. It brought us together and made us strong. Now it is years later and the world of having children and what we once thought of as a curse is closing for my sister. And I grieve for her because despite her upbeat attitude, I am the one person who knows she takes it a bit harder than that. Sure, she has a husband and a family but it is not quite the same. They were not there when it all began. They are not a fellow war buddy. And the older I get, the more valuable my war buddies are to me. The ‘wars’ since childhood may have changed, but the value of having a lifelong buddy to go through it with is still priceless.
Sometimes in life, I get to experience the extraordinary. My war buddies are an extraordinary part of this one suburban life. I am tremendously grateful for them.

The New Four-letter word

Wow… So has anybody noticed the leagues of women trying to make 40 the new 20? It really is difficult to miss. They parade into whatever establishment you might be in with painted on jeans, painted on faces, and loads of jewelry. Often they are wearing high heels and blouses that come from the ‘juniors’ department. They are just so pleased with themselves. I am sure they worked out a lot and ate really healthy (or didn’t eat at all) to get into that size 4… But they look ridiculous. I feel nothing but sorry for them. Either they have no one in their lives that cares enough about them to tell them they look ridiculous or their husbands are having more of a mid-life crisis than they are. If any other woman should dare mention her clothing, she’ll show her claws and state, “She’s just jealous that I can wear this and she can't.”

Um, no, we’re not. We DID wear that… When we were 20! And just because you can wear those clothes, doesn’t mean that you should. Women with grown daughters should not wear shirts that show their belly buttons. It’s just creepy. It’s creepy in the kind of way that a 55 year old leacherous man lears at an 18 year old girl. Creepy. Ech!

I was at a restaurant this afternoon where I saw one of these aging Britney wannabes… She was calling her grandson—Dodo (like the bird). He was about 7 years old and didn’t take the name calling too well. He responded with, “If you keep calling me that, I’ll call you GRANDMA”. The look of horror that passed this woman’s face was priceless. The kid indeed won. Who knew –Grandma—equaled four letter word status?

Nothing in life is free

I have a friend who is a reformed newspaper reporter :-). She would be completely embarassed by me. Therefore, I shall confess into this blog.

Is it just me or are newspapers so worthless that they do not even rate lining my puppy's kennel? I just can't stand it anymore. Worthless article upon worthless article of drivel that the reporter thinks we will love. Articles not filled with facts but rather the author's opinion. Yesterday, I arrived home to see a county paper on our doorstep. I pick it up and bring it inside. It seems they can't sell these papers anymore because they are delivering them to communities for free. (Nothing is free. I want the 5 minutes of my life that it took to read this article back!) This newspaper is thick and is masquerading as a news source similar to the Washington Post! On the front page is a ridiculous article about Housing Associations (standby for a future blog on these folks). The reporter indicated she polled 25 people to write her article. The county has more than 250,000 people. She went on in her article to draw all sorts of conclusions that were merely her opinion. You cannot draw a reasonable opinion on a population of more than 250,000 people by talking to 25. So I sent her a letter (her email was listed). I really let her have it. I included a section for the editor telling him that it makes his paper look silly and it makes him look sillier because he put it on the front page. The article was complete opinion because she couldn't back up her statements. Many of those she interviewed were quoted as 'residents'. There was 0 believability in the article.

Ok, so I'm not sure what I was hoping to gain because when you explain logic to an idiot it is like wrestling a pig in the mud. At the end, you are exhausted and the pig is just happy to get some attention... Mainly I just don't want the paper left at our house anymore. Well, this morning she responded. She claimed that this article was the result of many months of hard work (although that is the exact opposite of what she said in the article). She claimed she only interviewed 25 people to get a top ten list for the article. She started the job in March and Housing associations are her sole focus. (???@#) Hint: She might want to get her resume on the street. She wants to know what I think she should have done differently. HUH? How about changing words like 'most residents in the county' to 'those polled approve of HOAs"? Is this really something I have to explain to her. How does she have a career as a reporter?

In my original email, I explained to the editor that this topic is too broad a topic to be done quickly if someone is to accurately report this topic. An alternative would have been to do an in-depth article on one particular housing association or indicate the opinions expressed are from those who responded to a poll, etc. Instead the reporter made broad generalizations about everyone loving their housing association and the people who dislike them are an 'exception to the rule.' There is no way someone can make statements about exceptions when there are hundreds of housing associations and hundreds of thousands of residents. And she didn't talk to any of them! Heck, the 25 people she polled could have been relatives. It just makes me so angry that this trash is being passed off as news. It is not news! It is a reporter's opinion! And I don't care about the reporter's opinion. Just stick to the facts, ma'am!

Ok, my rant is over. :-)

The Puppy Needs to Find Jesus

It recently dawned on me while I was chasing a naughty puppy around the house after he chewed something, that what this puppy needs is Jesus. If he found Jesus, he would see the error of his ways and make better choices. Isn’t that right?

That’s what celebrities seem to think the public will believe. The most recent case is Michael Vick. Now he found Jesus and we should let bygones be bygones. Does this argument work with anyone other than your mother, Mr. Vick? (A mother always wants to believe their child has reformed because she knows that she taught him better.)

There seems to be a real lack of accountability in the world today. If you have a drug, racial slur, drinking, sex scandal, or weight problem, then you can go to rehab where you will be completely renovated in just 6 weeks! You come out leaner, healthier, and with a new public relations spin on life. It’s disgusting. It is more disgusting that young people see these losers as being rewarded for their behavior.

If just once, someone who claims to have found Jesus, really does find Jesus, they would not be announcing it during a press conference aimed at getting them out of hot water. They would not need to. Here is my advice to folks who think those celebrities have turned over a new leaf….People make their own decisions. It is the gift of free will that we all have. Jesus should not have to step in for a photo opportunity. Just remember-- He was there while you were making the bad decisions too. You just chose not to listen to Him.

First Day of School

The first day of school

The first day of school is an awfully lot like the first day of a job (except you don’t know this until years later). You enter the building thinking you have a firm grasp of what is going to happen and what is expected of you. You’ve been here before. You have experience. That is all nonsense and naive ramblings. The first day of school is brand new. There are new students, new teachers and a whole new mix of personalities. If your children’s first day of school is anything like my son’s, well then belt in for a bumpy ride. This year we have a new principal. We are getting a new improved model. Our last model was advancing in age and needed to be returned to the factory. The new certification requirements were too much for an older model principal to attack. So in walks the younger, more dedicated, tough-as-nails principal. Except he didn’t. That’s right. He quit the DAY BEFORE SCHOOL starts. There was talk of a family emergency that caused him to leave town the day before school started. Now I don’t know about anyone else, but I am not buying it. We also are minus one science teacher (supposedly she had a run in with the principal that never started). Oh, and the vice-principal who was planned to ‘fill in’ for the science teacher is now the principal. Last year the vice-principal now principal was in charge of resources and curriculum. Man, is she good. She went from being a resource clerk to a vice principal over the summer. Then she turned into a principal on the first day of school. And who says there isn’t career advancement in education? She makes Hillary look unambitious. There is something not right about this whole situation. The vice principal-turned-principal does hold a masters in curriculum development and get this, coincidentally is about to receive the new certification required for principals. Coincidence? I think not. She has no vice-principal or principal experience! Oh, and my son’s teacher had surgery on her arm two days ago so she couldn’t be there for the first day of school. (??@!@) She couldn’t do it in the 3 months of summer vacation? She will be in later this week. We’ve never met her or talked to her. She wasn’t at the pre-back-to-school ice-cream get-to-know-each-other social. But she really must have a sense of humor. On the first day, she sent (via a substitute teacher) homework for the parents. She wants us to tell her all about our little angels in a million words or less. Isn’t that cute? Don’t you just want to fold her up and put her in your pocket? Great start. Can’t wait to see what is on tap for the second day of school.

Designer Groceries

Upscale grocery stores. Have you visited one? It would be hard for you to know that you are in an actual grocery store. There is an entire 'eatery' inside these grocery stores. You can buy a hoagie for lunch or stop at their gourmet coffee stand for a cup of java. They have a 'wine cellar' that is merely 1/3 of the entire store filled with wine. After the wine, you will find aisles of non-dairy, vegan cheese balls (huh??). You may find crackers made with whole wheat and wheat germ to serve with the wine. You will find a meat market that has things like whole swordfish, but no ground beef. Who cooks a whole swordfish for dinner anyway? Don't get me wrong, this place is great if you are having high society over for tea or a dinner party. But what about the poor saps who have children in tow (that are not wearing boutique clothing because their mom and dad thinks it makes boys look like sissies), and are just looking for cheerios. Huh? Where'd these wine drinking, non-dairy, cheese-eaters hide the stinking Cheerios?
How about bread? Oooh, now I'm not sure the store even carries bread. The folks that shop here do not eat bread. That is a CARBOHYDRATE (i.e. POISON)! Hadn't you heard? The only thing worse than these designer grocery stores that are 2 acres in size is the people who shop there. I saw people shopping in this store that I previously thought only existed in sitcoms on tv about rich people who have no grasp on reality. This is the place that the 'Biff's' and the 'Snoodles' types live. I overhead a mother and father (only child was with them) arguing over something about the child getting too many carbohydrates and gluten from a particular cracker. Are you freaking kidding me? How on earth does this kid survive in the world of germs at school? When you were a kid, if someone offered you a Ritz cracker, wouldn't you just eat it? Wasn't the only thing our parents contemplated was who had eaten the last one and had not thrown out the box? Want some fun? Go to one of these designer grocery stores and look at what is the shopping carts. You'll see things like one lemon, two carrots, and a box of lightbulbs in the checkout lane! Who can live on that?
I looked up statistics for those who shop stores like this. Here is what is listed by American Demographics: "members of this group enjoy cooking for fun and are about twice as likely to cook for fun once a week or more compared with the general population. "

Gee, cooking for fun. Hmm. I remember fun. Really? Ok, sometimes it was fun, but that was before kids. That was when I didn't have anything better to do other than cook new, interesting things. Now, I am in the real world where dinner just needs to be something I can accomplish. Shopping in a designer grocery store is a very strange experience. I'm sure they wondered how I was admitted through their stylish doors. I kept asking annoying questions of the staff like, 'ok, this place is really cute, but where is the real food.' I would get bewildering looks. They offerred to help me find any 'specialty food.' Huh? My food isn't a specialty. I'm looking for breakfast cereals and Peanut butter and jelly (I'll get the bread somewhere else on my way home). Yet the puzzled looks continued. Hmm, what is the peanut butter creation she keeps asking for?

So go out and try a designer grocery store today. If you find a really fancy one, they give you a scanner at the door + bags. You get to scan your own groceries & you get to bag them yourself as you walk the aisles with your children! (Not kidding). I just have to say that the guy or gal who sold this as a business plan is brilliant. Just as good as the restaurants where you cook your own food but still pay restaurant prices. These capitalists are brilliant!

My Husband--The pickup artist

We (the family) went to the mall for a Monday afternoon of fun. When we decided to leave, we notice it is really raining. Since we've experienced drought-like weather all summer, the rain is a welcome sight. However, we have kids, stroller, shopping bags, diaper bags, and no umbrella. Basically, we'll have to make a break for it. My hubby-the hero- decides he will make a break for it if we will wait inside. So the two kids and me wait for hubby to return. He pulls up outside of the entrance and motions for me to wait inside while he brings me the car seat. (Parents will understand that it is easier to buckle a squirming infant into a car seat while still in the mall rather than standing in the rain.) There is a lady standing just outside of the door in front of me. As my husband brings the car seat to me (for baby loading), he says hello as he passes her because she is staring him down. As I am getting the baby buckled into the car seat, he loads the stroller and bags into the trunk. On his way back to get me + 2 kids, the lady comments, "so is she coming with us?" My husband couldn't believe his ears! He says, "I don't know what you mean by 'we' because you are not coming with us." The only thing that we could figure out is that she must have called a cab and for some reason thought our car and my husband were there to pick her up. Now, I know mistakes can happen to anyone, but when was the last time you saw a man bring a car seat out of a car to load a baby into it and assume it was a taxi? My husband was wearing a suit (straight from work but had taken off his tie). She wanted to know if I was going with them? This is a perfect example of people thinking the world revolves around them. Uh, hello... Knock. Knock. Anybody in there? There are other people in this world outside of your own head! It never ceases to amaze me that these folks are free to wander the streets.