Like a Half-Eaten Donut, Better than Nothing!

I have been a bit of a mess lately. Literally and figuratively. Last week I went to a hair cut appointment and when the receptionist took my coat, I discovered I had fresh brownie mix dribbled down the front of it. And earlier that day I totally missed a conference call for work. The reminder popped up on my computer and I didn't recognize it so I dismissed it. Totally unlike me. I need a vacation. Somewhere that I can't get my hands on brownie mix or cookie dough.

Despite my above average ability to ramble, there are many occasions on which I start writing a blog post and only get a paragraph or two into it and realize I don't know what else to say. (See the example above.) Or I can't come up with a witty or fitting close. So today, because I slept like sh*t last night, I've decided that rather than try to write a complete post, I will pull together a few of the posts I've left unfinished for an eclectic look at the inner workings of my mind. Just what you were hoping for on this beautiful, spring-like day! So here goes it:

2/12/16: If you heard alarms going off on Friday night, it wasn't another car getting broken into. It was my hype meter. It's no coincidence that it was also the Night of Bruce.

My husband is an enormous Bruce Springsteen fan. Which is probably part of the problem. As I believe I've mentioned in an earlier post, familiarity breeds contempt. I have detested Neil Young for 20 years thanks to a coworker who played him 8-hours a day, 5-days a week. It's not really Neil's fault. Technically, as a singer-songwriter fan I should like him. But that's what overexposure can do to a person.

Every time I get in Rob's car, he's got the satellite radio tuned to the all-Bruce station. So, where before I generally enjoyed his music, I'm getting a little tired of it. But the music itself isn't as bad as the pre-concert buildup. I've been to one Bruce concert. He's an amazing performer, but I don't like waiting for the divas to appear on stage and I don't like big concert venues, so when it came time for this particular concert I took a pass. Not worth the big bucks and the finagling involved with securing the almighty ticket.

12/19/15: We know that fashion is cyclical. Every few decades, someone decides that bell bottoms, leg warmers, high waisted pants, tall boots, skinny jeans, shoulder pads, Bermuda shorts and pantsuits should be reintroduced to society. Even hairstyles come and go and then come back again. Except for perms. I'm still waiting for perms to make a comeback.

Toys tend to have more staying power than perms fashion. Elmo has been popular since he joined Sesame Street in the 80s. Barbie refuses to die. Matchbox cars still have their place. Every home has Jenga, Monopoly and Scrabble. And don't get me started on Legos. Did you know the company was started in 1932? [I have no idea where I was going with this post...]

12/13/15: PJs and Down Time
I know a few people who wring the life out of each and every day. I know several others who never want the fun to end when it comes to social occasions. Then there are people like me (at least I hope there are others) who look forward to pajamas and bed time as much as--if not more than--a night out on the town. This obviously can be problematic when ones spouse and friends fall into different categories.

What's important for "those people" to understand, is that my desire to be in bed versus spending more time with them is not personal. In fact, I'm pretty sure if Jesus himself showed up at my house I'd only be able to give him a few hours and then I'd need to retire to my room, slip under the covers, and curl up in the fetal position. This is fairly common characteristic of us introverts. We get our energy from alone time, versus feeding off the presence of others.

I suppose on some level I consider bed time my reward for having made it through the day. After work, there's nothing I want more than to come home, change into my p.j.s and settle in for the evening. If you want to put me in a bad mood, ask me to run an errand after I've mentally and emotionally called it a day. Ask my kids how well I handle that.

Think I could pull it off?

9/27/15: [Ironically, this could have been written last Friday.] I regained a touch of my youth on Friday. Thank God for hair color! Now if only it lasted longer than a few weeks. Part of me is considering adopting that platinum silver/purplish look that Pink and Kelly Osbourne are sporting these days. At least when the color fades I'd have the right color coming in.

Almost as bad as the skunk stripe I sport every six weeks or so, is the process required to fix it. Two freakin' hours at the hair salon is not my idea of fun. Sitting still that long is torture, and there's something about the environment that drives me nuts. In fact, I came up with a list of "10 Things about the Hair Salon."

1. The person with the loudest voice also is the one carrying on the most inane conversation. 
2. There's always one stylist who thinks she has to talk to you throughout your entire appointment, leaving you screaming inside.
3. And even if the stylist doesn't babble the entire time, you still have to at least start with small talk. I abhor small talk. 
4. Putting on a cape, slapping some thick paint on your head and leaving you to stare at yourself in the mirror for an hour-plus is cruel. You find wrinkles and lines you never knew you had. And inevitably I'm there with no makeup on. 
5. Speaking of thick paint, no matter how many times I remind them that my skin stains easily, I always leave the salon with a ring around my hair line. So I end up wearing a baseball cap for two days to hide my forehead. 
6. There's always some customer talking about her horse, or her vacation to Bora Bora, or the limo ride to see Bruce.

[Obviously I couldn't come up with 10 things...]

And finally: 

2/10/15: [This still applies one year later.]

Yesterday was Abby's 14th birthday and I couldn't be prouder of my not-so-little girl. I have to confess that it takes a good bit of self control to not brag about her ad nauseam. Finding that fine line between "how sweet" and "enough already" is definitely a major challenge in the age of social media. I figure if I only post photos of Abby's work it's not really bragging, it's more like show and tell. But how do I write a blog post about Abby for her birthday without going overboard? I don't have to. It's my blog and I can say whatever I want. Insert smiley emoticon here.

When my kids were elementary school age, I had one recurring wish for them, and it wasn't the standard "may they be happy and healthy." Instead I wished that they'd turn out like Richard, Ryder or Bridget, or Kevin or Laura Jean. These former babysitters and/or neighbors/friends, were the gauge by which I was going to measure my children. Why these five? Because their qualities were the same qualities that I hoped my kids would one day possess. Respectful, kind, hard working, intelligent, involved, friendly, happy, and NORMAL. Sometimes super kids have everything except that normal element. The one that allows them to make friends and fit in and get a job someday (if that's your thing).

Well, I'm happy to say that Abby (and Ian, too) have lived up to the example of those former youth, now young adults. I realize that parenting experts generally advise against comparing your kids to others, but I'd say it was less about using them as a measuring stick for my children, and more about providing a parenting goal for me. When all we hear about are wayward youth, I needed a beacon to follow that could show me it was possible to get it right.

That's all for now folks. I have at least a dozen others I'll share with you when I can't find the time or energy, or the right words, to write a complete post. Enjoy this beautiful day!

Random Musings: Pre-Italy Edition

It's been awhile since I posted my random musings. Here's one for you: Why do women in public bathrooms (don't know if this applies to men) never choose a stall next to one that's occupied if there are others available? And speaking of bathrooms, the only upside to there being fewer women in engineering is that there's never a line for the ladies' room in my building.

I leave on Friday afternoon for a 10-day singing tour with the Strath Haven High School Silvertones (ST). I'm not singing; I'm chaperoning. I wish they'd let me sing. I'm still wondering if I'd make the group.

Yes, I chaperoned two years ago. First, someone has to do it; I'm taking one for the team. Second, my 16-year-old son is fine with me joining him/them. That alone means I have to go. How many teenagers are willing to have their parents go anywhere with them? And it's not just because he considers me a walking ATM. In fact, now that he's a working man I told him he has to provide his own spending money. Of course, this means I won't actually spend any time with him on this trip. But that's okay, too. I'm in it for the tours. As I've gotten older I've developed a strange passion for history. I actually get giddy when I learn something is hundreds or thousands of years old. It's the same reaction most women would have if they were told George Clooney was around the corner.

Did I tell you I've subscribed to National Geographic? I love it. I feel smart reading it. And if I don't feel like reading, I can always look at the pictures. The irony in my subscribing to National Geographic is that my grandfather ordered me subscriptions every year for my birthday when I was a kid and I didn't read a single issue. Threw them all away. Not too many kids are good candidates for that magazine. That's why they now offer the kids' edition. Still, I feel guilty.

Another reason to go to Italy? The wine. Did you know that prior to the previous trip I had never had a whole glass of red wine? And since returning I haven't had any either. There's something about red wine in Italy. It tastes better there. Kind of like mashed potatoes at my mom's house.

I also love Italian meats. This year I won't make the mistake of trying to bring them home in my suitcase. Or, I won't claim them on my official forms at the airport. I'm such a freakin' rule follower. Last time they took all my meat. The only thing I'd brought from Italy for my husband. I cried. Meat's expensive.

To prove to my son that going on this trip is not all about him, I have every intention of chaperoning again in 2017, when he'll be in (yikes!) college. This means I need Cornelia's son Alex, and/or Theresa's son AJ to make the group next year. Not for their own satisfaction, but for my own selfish travel purposes. It would be weird to chaperone if I didn't actually know any of the kids in the group. And I'm fully expecting Cornelia and/or Theresa to accompany me. Girls' week in Italy. Woo hoo!

This year I have a bit of anxiety about the trip for a couple reasons. One, there have been recurrent issues with paying for it. It went something like this:

1. I sent an electronic check through my online bank. 
2. Check was apparently lost in the maze of school district offices.
3. Check was found and sent to ST director.
4. ST director misplaced check. 
5. ST director calls me; I stop check; incur $25 charge from my bank.
6. Write new check; hand delivered to director.
7. Receive text from director weeks later noting that my check did not clear.
8. I go ape shit, insisting that I'm loaded with money; no way check bounced.
9. Turns out mystery person in school district tried to deposit rediscovered original check.
10. It's declined; school district charged fee.
11. New check was cashed, but school district account shows negative balance. 
12. Not my problem.

This might be a sign that I should not go on this trip. If I don't make it home alive, let's just say "I knew it."

Second concern: Roommate situation. For months leading up to the trip it looked like I was going to be the only female chaperone. A status I was quite happy with. I prefer to be the lone woman. It makes me feel powerful. But no, the director had to go and encourage others to join me. I don't really know the other ST moms, but there was only one I really didn't want to come with us. No particular reason other than that she's one of those moms who make us normal moms look bad. In other words, she's super attractive in a rock-n-roll kind of way. Great hair. Cool clothes. Way more hip than yours truly. So hip she probably knows the 2015 word for "hip." Then there's also the fact that her email and blog name are "I am Bossy." Personally, I'm more passive aggressive. 

Did I mention that her blog has tons of readers and gets bunches of comments? If you truly care about me you'll share a comment on this post, just to make me feel better about myself.

A third concern: My flat iron. At the time of the previous trip I had not yet discovered the magic of the flat iron. Of course my hair was short so I didn't need one. Now I need one, but I'm afraid if I use it I'll blow a fuse at the hotel, cutting  power to the whole place. Everything I read says you need a voltage adapter, and even then, hair dryers and the like are risky to use because of their voltage. Do I risk it or accept bad hair for 10 days? Keep in mind that my roommate has great hair. Long, blond, curly. If I come home with a k.d. lang cut, don't be surprised.

Finally, I've decided "Uptown Funk" is this decade's version of "Celebrate Good Times" by Kool & the Gang. I love Uptown Funk, but really hate Celebrate. Maybe I started out loving Celebrate, but they played it to death. Maybe I will one day hate Uptown Funk. 

Random Musings, VIII: Food Edition

It's been too long. I don't usually go two weeks without writing. You know it's not because I have nothing to say. I ALWAYS have something to say. Unfortunately, right now much of what I have to say isn't ideal blog material. There's the new guy I'm working for who's 10+ years younger than me (I'm not sure I'm ready to confess my angst about that). There's the crushing situation impacting my church (it wouldn't be appropriate to share at this point). There's the emotional exhaustion I'm feeling from a ridiculously difficult year that's less than half over (that's depressing). So in the interest of meeting your Freakin' Angel needs (isn't it cute the way I assume you need me?), I'm happy to share a new volume (#8!) of Random Musings. Food Edition.

Those of you who know me well, know that I have a few food issues. For instance, I generally try to avoid anything healthy. I work out so I can eat badly. I also don't like "crunch" in my food. Nothing inside something else that makes its presence known. Example: celery or onions in stuffing. Peppers in crab cakes. I'm pleased to say, however, that I've met someone who has even more food quirks than me. My soul sister and colleague Kelly won't eat lettuce because she thinks it tastes like grass. Not that she's eaten grass, but she assumes that's how it would taste.

But enough about the quirks. Here are some random food-related thoughts from a Freakin' Angel:

1. Fish heads. Seriously, why would a chef think it's a nice idea to put the whole fish, head included, on your plate? How can you eat it when it still has eyes?
2. Uncut chicken breasts on salad. If I'm paying for the salad, the least you can do is cut the damn chicken for me. You know I can't eat it like that, and have you ever tried to cut on top of lettuce? Not particularly effective, which means you have to remove the chicken from the salad to cut it up. This is annoying, especially when you're hungry and just want to get down to business.
3. Shrimp. Along these lines, why do restaurants insist on presenting shrimp with the shell on? I like scampi, but I don't like dipping my hands in the buttery sauce to remove the crunchy part from the main ingredient in my meal (refer to my comments above about crunch).
4. Leftovers. Why do we keep leftovers we know we'll never eat? If you're like me, you wait until they're moldy so you feel justified tossing them. Weird.
5. Storage containers. Speaking of leftovers, is it just me, or does it seem that whichever Tupperware dish you dump your leftovers into, is bound to be the one you can't find a lid for? If you're one of those people with completely organized storage containers, you suck I don't want to know.
   
6. Burnt food. In another example of the head games I play with myself (and my family), I turn burnt food over so the lighter side shows, tricking my brain into thinking it doesn't taste like charcoal.  
7. Bread. Who else leaves the heel of the bread in the bag in the pantry, even though you already opened a new loaf and have no intention of finishing the other? When it's moldy, then you can throw it out.
8. Miniatures. Why does food always taste better in smaller sizes?  Mini cupcakes, pierogies and goldfish, for example. And those miniature bottles of condiments are so darn cute! Of course there's something psychologically befuddling about miniatures, the way you eat way more than if you had just selected the original sized item.
9. Sunflower seeds. What's the deal with the ones with the shells on them? There's so little reward for all the crunching and spitting involved. I don't get the appeal. 
   
10. Vegetables. I have made a fascinating discovery. There is a direct correlation between the number of people who like a certain vegetable and how difficult it is to spell. Research proves me right. According to Ranker.com's list of the most popular vegetables, potato, carrot, onion (bleh), tomato, corn and  peas are among the top 10.  Lower on the list? Broccoli, asparagus, Brussels sprouts, rhubarb, artichokes, cauliflower and zucchini. 

I hope you've enjoyed this food-themed issue of Random Musings. I'd love to hear some of your related random thoughts!

Random Musings: Italian Edition

I have returned from the Silvertones' singing tour of the southeastern region (Puglia) of Italy. It was an amazing experience and worth every penny of my children's college education money. Just seeing Ian's tremendous smile when singing or hanging with his friends was incredibly special. I told him I must go on the next tour in two years. And maybe I'll continue to go after he graduates. He told me the kids liked me best out of all the chaperones, but lest I think too highly of myself he added, "That really isn't saying much when you consider the competition."

As I prepare to return to the daily grind, time and my jet lagged brain do not permit a full post reflecting on the experience at this point.  But because I know you've missed me terribly (and Rob disappointed you by not taking advantage of a great opportunity to get even with me for a three years worth of somewhat questionable posts), I thought I'd quickly share:

20 Things I Learned in Italy

A frogfish face only a mother could love.

1. I do, in fact, like red wine!
2. I do not, however, like octopus, or squid, or veal, or sushi, or vegetables...(most of the adventurous multi-course meals were wasted on me; I think Ian actually ate more than I did).
3. Frogfish does not taste as bad as it looks.
4. America's bread, cheese, salami/prosciutto and pizza pale in comparison to Italy's. Just don't try to bring home the meat. Damn those customs agents! Damn me for including the salami on the declaration form! 
5. Italian men are instantly recognizable and live up to their reputation as Lotharios. Our girls were frequent objects of "affection."
6. Older Italian women look like my mother-in-law and her sisters. 
7. Italians, at least in the region we were in, don't often use garlic, and the country as a whole is not

   

   
   

   particularly wild about chicken.
8. Or, hair conditioner.
9. Hotels don't feel adequate hair dryers are important, but they're big on heated towel racks and bidets.
10. As a tourist, siesta time sucks. This is why I didn't buy you anything. All the stores were closed when I wanted to shop.
11. Buildings in Italy are considered modern if they were built after the 17th century. 
12. Italians don't dress up for church, even on Easter Sunday. It's perfectly okay to wear ripped jeans and a sweatshirt, as long as you don't expose your shoulders, elbows or knees.
13. The long-legged blondes in our group turned a lot of heads in Italy. Same as they do in America.
14. Italians sell pizza topped with hot dogs and French fries. 
15. In the piazzas, throngs of people stroll through the streets (and I do mean "stroll." No one ever seems to be in a hurry over there. Maddening for speed walkers like me). Vehicles also drive on these streets, causing us to frequently shout "CAR" during our walking tours.  
16. There's a trend toward rosé wines at the vineyards in Italy. Rob is terribly disappointed to hear this.
17. Depeche Mode sounds awesome when drinking tea in a bar (what we would call a cafe or coffee bar) next to a 15th century church in Martina Franca.
18. The window balconies you see on castles and fancy homes were shaped outward to fit women's big
    
    dresses back in the day.
19. There are more than 50 million olive trees in the Puglia region.
20. The best moments in life are generally those you didn't plan for. 

And those special unplanned moments are what I'll share in my next post. Until then, arrivederci!

Random Musings, Volume 5

After Tuesday's post, let's keep it light today with a new edition of Random Musings.

1. Why do people buy the super cheap toilet paper when it just requires you to use 5x as much to wipe? Even I buy decent toilet paper, and that's saying something.
2. Speaking of bathrooms, in your office restroom, do you wait in the stall until everyone else has left? Because, yikes!, what if they heard you? These are the same people who flush while they're going because their bodily noises are so much different from the rest of ours.
3. One more bathroom-related thought: Despite hand soap having been in liquid or foaming form for years, I still wet my hands first. I have no idea whether this is necessary.
4. It can be difficult to get your husband's attention at times. One surefire way to get him to speak to you is to reduce the number of sports channels you get in your cable package. Of course, there's no guarantee you're going to like what he says.

5. Don't you love bite-size candy? Did you know bite-size is industry lingo for "they'll eat lots more this way?"
6. Why do we still sign credit card slips? Is someone actually looking at them?
7. Buffets are a bad idea for cheap frugal people. We They overeat just to get our their money's worth.
8. Is there a rule regarding how many days or weeks have to pass before you can wear the same outfit to school or work again?
9. I love that boots are so popular. My mismatched socks have been given new life.
10. I don't mind looking unpresentable when going out in public in the area where I currently live, but I wouldn't be caught dead looking that way when I'm out in public in my hometown. You just don't want the people who knew you 25 years ago to think you've fallen apart. The people who know you now assume you've always looked that way. 

Finally, I leave you with two bonus musings with a Christmas theme:

1. Please don't put a to-from sticker on the gift bag you're using for my present (subliminal message). You realize I want to reuse that bag, right? I'm running dangerously low, and may be forced to purchase some. Gasp!
2. If the gift you're giving requires batteries, for God's sake include them! The same applies to the necessary items for juicers (fruit), journals (a nice pen), and televisions (a year's worth of cable television).

Now it's time for you to log off and mail me a check for the Silvertones Twelfth Night Revelry on Jan. 12. Don't miss it!

Random Musings IV

It's been more than a year since my last bit of Random Musings. I know you've been lying awake at night, just wondering when I was going to share my rarely important, curious thoughts. So here it goes:

1. Why do they label a bottle of pills "take by mouth?" Is there another way to take them that I'm not aware of?
2. Speaking of pills. You know what's fun? Finding a circular white pill you dropped on a floor that's covered with those little white paper circles you get when you use the hole puncher. Seriously. That's happened to me.
3. How closely does someone need to be following you for you to hold the door open for them?
4. Speaking of being close. How closely can you walk behind a stranger without freaking them out? And should you slow your pace or speed up to walk past them? 
5. Sometimes I dread small talk at the dentist and hair salon. This is why Asian American nail salons are so popular. If we don't speak same language, we don't have to chat.
6. Does anyone else move their body in one direction or the other to "help" pull the car into a tight parking space? This is possibly related to my "move the bowling ball" wave. Despite ample evidence to the contrary, I must think my body movements have magical powers.
7. Nothing kills the mood like rolling over and squishing a stink bug. Seriously, I've done that 
8. Young men with six-pack abs should not be allowed to run shirtless on city streets. It's a driving hazard. 
9. Why do Christian college kids get married so young? Is it because they're tired of "waiting for marriage?" (If I can work up the courage to potentially offend a good number of people, including friends, I may write an entire blog post on this topic.)
10. Why is it that the tree that needs to be cut down (costing an obscene amount of money) is never the one that makes the biggest mess in your yard? Like the *&^#*!) gumball tree?

I hope to be back in the next day or two with some deeper thoughts, but for now, I hope you enjoyed these "Random Musings." Have a good one!

Random Musings, Part 4

While I could tell you about the very large and quite old naked behind I saw in the locker room at the gym the other day, or how I cried my heart out when I told my master instructor I was leaving our martial arts school, I think I'll go with something a little more upbeat. It's time for Random Musings, Part 4: 

1. How exactly does one lose a shoe on the side of the road?    
2. When your child wants to go to a friend's house in the morning before you've showered and dressed, do you change your underwear before you put on clothes, or wait till after you've showered later?
3. At what age does a boy start closing cupboard doors when he's done with the dishes?
4. Does anyone actually follow those Local Traffic Only signs?
5. And speaking of traffic, did you notice you never hit a red light when you're waiting to read or send a quick text?   
6. If I'm not supposed to use a certain pillow for sleeping, what's it doing on my bed? 
7. Just because Ikea sells frozen mashed potatoes doesn't mean you should buy them.
8. And speaking of food, why do I save leftovers that I know we'll never eat?
9. At what age does a boy start throwing out empty boxes of cereal, microwave popcorn, and fruit snacks instead of leaving them in the cupboard?
10. Why do news stations report the ocean temp from December through March? Is someone actually contemplating a swim?
11. Coffee, donuts, muffins. You'd think Dunkin' Donuts would smell like heaven, but it actually smells like hell. What's that about?
12. The college professor rule should apply to waiters/waitresses. If they don't appear within 15 minutes of you receiving and finishing your meal, you can just leave.  
13. Why do some people flush before they use the toilet? Do they think there might be something in there that will reach out and pinch them?
14. At what age do boys start to match their shirt to their pants? 

Finally, I'd like to know why bad things happen to good people. Please pray for Rob's cousin Karen who suffered a mild stroke two days ago. This follows the heartbreak of a lost pregnancy less than two years ago.

And I whine when the funkapotomus comes to visit...

Random Musings, 3rd Edition

While I travel to Castle Rock, Colorado today to visit the cutest nephew in the whole wide world (oh, and my sister, too), I leave you with this third edition of Random Musings...

• I dislike geese but I admire their chutzpah.
• Despite being an intelligent woman, I'm a complete sucker for formulaic chick flicks. Why is that?
• Women of a certain age should not wear mid-thigh length skirts, regardless of how tremendous their legs are. It makes me feel bad. (Heidi Klum, this means you.) 
• I just assume that anyone with tinted car windows is up to no good.
• As we continue to enjoy baseball in the post season, does anyone else think it's mean that they call some batters "the A-hole hitter?" 
• I find it strange that men freak out about losing their hair, but seem just fine with their beer bellies. 
• Am I the only one who thinks that if I put just one butt cheek on the public bathroom toilet seat I won't catch anything? Both cheeks is a recipe for disaster, but somehow just one feels safe.
• And speaking of toilets, cheap toilet paper really doesn't save you money. If you have to use 3x as much so as not to get anything on your fingers when you wipe, then you'd have been better off with the good stuff. And it's softer, too. And no, I was not compensated for this ad for Charmin.
• It happens to all women, generally once or twice a year, and it's not pleasant. It's the moment you realize you have "absolutely nothing to wear." 
• And finally, if you are in the business of marketing female hygiene products, you should know that nothing about our periods is cute. Real women do not require "cute" tampons in a showdown with Mother Nature. If you don't know what I'm referring to, watch this little ditty and weep for all of womankind.

Labor Day and Ugly Babies

In honor of our upcoming Labor Day weekend, I've decided to write about childbirth. Just kidding. Nobody wants to hear about that, especially first time moms-to-be. I always want to smack moms who tell their childbirth horror stories to women who are expecting their first baby. It would be like starting a job that you're really excited about only to have a coworker tell you that the place is sheer hell, don't be surprised if you poop on the job, the training program won't really prepare you at all, and it will take months to recover from the experience. And real moms know the reality is that the pain of labor is nothing compared to the pain in the ass that the kid is actually going to be for 18+ years. Whew. Sorry. Had to get that off my chest. Can you tell the kids have been driving me nuts lately? Why do we seem to be the only school district in the country that hasn't already returned to the classroom? Tuesday can't get here fast enough.

Now that I've just spent an entire paragraph being bitchy, I think I'll skip the post I originally had in mind ("Teaching Social Skills to Your Tween") and share some miscellaneous thoughts that have occurred to me recently. Hey, I know readership will be down today with the looming holiday weekend and all...may as well save my good stuff for next week. So here you are, a second dose of Random Musings (if you missed it, the first one was back in February, titled "The Day I Decided to Take Up Drinking")

RANDOM MUSINGS, PART 2

• Has anyone else noticed that Smart cars look really dumb? They look like golf carts and they pretty much scream "I'm antisocial!! I don't ever vacation so I never need trunk space for my luggage, and I have no friends so I don't have to worry about giving someone else a ride." I apologize in advance for offending my readers and friends who drive Smart cars, though I stand by my impression of them. I'm in marketing and really, it's all about image.
• Since we've been in renovation/fix-it mode for the past year, I've been in contact with my share of contractors. And, I've come to the conclusion that these roofers, plumbers, builders, flooring guys, etc have it really easy. All they have to do is return your call or show up when scheduled to give you a quote and they've already outdone 75% of the competition. If they actually follow up with an estimate, they're 95% of the way there. It's maddening how hard you have to try to give someone your business and your money.
• Back to the Labor Day theme, while they're all beautiful in God's eyes, there are such things as ugly babies. Never known any personally, but I've seen them so I know they exist.
• Is it just me or can you pretty much tell you're not going to like someone by the slogan or words on the t-shirt they're wearing, the bumper sticker on their car, or even the car they drive?
• The plastic bags from grocery stores wouldn't be clogging up our landfills so much if these clueless baggers would assume I can handle more than a loaf of bread and box of crackers in one bag. Unless you're bagging for a 90 year old or someone with a back brace, fill the damn bags so I don't have to drag twenty of them out of my car. (And for the record, I do use reusable totes 95% of the time. Can you hear me patting myself on the back for my eco-friendliness?)
• Who knew jewelry had a year or season? Apparently at least one friend of mine does. She complimented a waitress on her earrings and they discussed how they were "last year's design." Damn, I've been wearing the same earrings since the 80s. Clearly I'm hopeless where fashion is concerned.
• And lastly, as a final tribute to my west coast trip this summer, I would like to note that, for supposedly being one of the healthiest states and the most narcissistic by far, California has more burger chains than I've ever seen anywhere. No wonder there are billboards and radio ads with special offers and pricing on liposuction. Sheesh.

All right folks, thanks for letting me vent. Here's hoping you enjoy your last unofficial weekend of summer. Stay safe. Don't drink and drive. I need you alive to keep my readership count growing.

Love, Kim

The Day I Decided to Take Up Drinking

Rather than using this post to fully develop one particular idea, I think I 'm just going to use it to sound off on a variety of thoughts I'm having right now. Bear with me or feel free to check back in a few days when I've focused in on something you might find more enjoyable.


Random Musings

1. Based on his recent 11-year-old behavior/mood/personality, I'm not sure Ian is going to actually live to see the teen years. What has gotten into my heretofore golden boy? Someone get him a Midol stat. 
2. My weekend in Harvey Cedars was terrific. As it always is. Except for all the babies that I drove to tears. 
3. The Freakin' Angels finally got a most-of-the-group picture. Kim G. wants it noted that she is not in her FA shirt because her husband lost it after I gave it to him to give to her. That's okay, Kim, we still know you're an angel.
4. I have some thoughts about sea shells that I think are rather poignant, so you have that to look forward to in a later post...when I'm in the mood to talk about sea shells. Which I'm not right now.
5. My cat has twice missed the mark when trying to jump up to the table or counter and my dog has an eye infection. 
6. A "Luxury pet resort" is only luxury when you upgrade from the standard suite. Total BS if you ask me.
7. I have decided to give up Tang Soo Do and take up drinking instead. Ah, you knew it was coming, didn't you? You knew there was an issue I was just itching to address. Yep. It's that damn black belt test on Saturday. E Dan. 2nd degree.What the heck was I thinking when I agreed to this? It's actually costing me money in addition to my sanity, self-esteem, and entire sense of well-being. 

See here's the thing. I'm not being modest when I say I 'm not very good at the martial arts. I'm really not. I've got a great round house and ax kick, but that's about it. I really don't feel deserving of a second degree black belt. I've had this battle discussion with my instructor and he insists I wouldn't be testing if he didn't believe I was deserving and qualified, but our ideas of deserving and qualified are very different. I think there's a right and wrong. A correct and incorrect. You're one or the other. He takes a much more subjective approach that works in my favor, but doesn't work for my confidence. He notes that I'm the best 40 year-old woman student in our school. I happen to know that I'm the ONLY 40-year-old woman in our school. Needless to say, that's not exactly motivational. What happens when I encounter another 40-year-old in the streets and she kicks my ass?


I'm throwing the Tang Soo Do "indomitable spirit" tenet out the window and I'm going to focus my energies instead on "wine and spirits." I think if train real hard I can be the best drinker in my neighborhood by the time I'm 45. Now that's an accomplishment to include in the Christmas letters!