Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Unconquered my ass.

He hates it when I do this.

Grab him around the neck as we're about to go somewhere and do the


I swear I did have makeup on. Not lipstick. But i did have foundation on. And mascara. Ok, not on the left eye in the pic. Just the right one. No, i had not started tailgating yet. I simply had a small incident with the eyelash curler. That is an instrument of the devil, of that I'm sure. I was minding my business, holding the heated curler against said eye ( i do know how to do this i swear) with a firm grip to make the lash curl ever so tight...and...snap. WHAT THE ...I slowly released that torture device from my eye and there, laying ever so sadly WERE ALL MY UPPER LASHES. Well, not ALL. There were 3 left on the left, and 2 on the right. A BIG GAP in between.

Jiminy xmas.

Oh well...lashes be damned, there's a par-tay to get to...let's commence, shall we? Wait...come back here...i know everyone hates pictures of people they don't know...but dammit, i spent a lot of time putting together this drinkamentary, and lets not forget several eyelashes were killed in the making of this event just for your entertainment. Now where was I? Ah..ok...now see, this is how Vance's homeboys tailgate...pretty sweet, huh?

I have to admit, this is MUCH better than actually sitting on an actual tailgate. in the parking lot. in 99 degree heat. with no shade. and lots of idiots. drunk idiots passing footballs back and forth. falling over coolers of beer. and into grills of hot coals and burned hotdogs. maybe not as entertaining in that regard. but still better.

Let's breakdown this pic, less we leave anything out...

  1. Big Screen TV(far back right) - check
  2. Keg bar (straight back, past grampa in the dad jeans) - check
  3. Grandma's portable oxygen tank - check
  4. ......4. Me making room for more margaritas - check

Hey...wait, sit back down, ... there's more.

....not yet....

...come on....patience is virtue people...it's the only virtue i've got, and it's going fast......

....here we go! DOAK STADIUM!

can you see it? ...there...just over the fence and through the trees....beckoning...

...and thus we begin the holy trek...

it's a beautiful site, isn't it?

Nope, you're not staring at a film negative...you must be drinking again....PUT DOWN THAT DRINK...

Osceola throwing the flaming spear into the ground! see baby, i DO pay attention to the details...


yeah, that motion the crowd is doing with their right arm..well..i'm not sure what we call that...certainly not the TOMAHAWK CHOP. is it still considered unPC to use that term??

What's that you say? Where's the action on the field? Oh...that. Yeah. Uhm. My batteries died? No? Not buying that? Uhm...ok, it RAINED OUT. No...? really? ALRIGHT. FINE. WE LOST. The pictures have been held to protect those guilty. DAMN OFFENSE. Don't they realize that I HAVE TO LIVE WITH A SHELL OF A MAN UNTIL THE NEXT WEEK???

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Attitude adjustment, and I took it out on the blog.

So.....whatcha think?

I've been in a re-arranging, decorating, nesting zone this weekend. Mostly because, well, IT'S on it's way. and when IT begins it's visit, i have found that in order to keep my mouth in check, i must keep my hands and brain busy.

So far this weekend I've:

  • gone to Costco. No, you may NOT sit in the cart, YOU'RE 7 YEARS OLD. Yes, we will go the halloween store after. No, we are not going to buy Madden 09, Christmas is around the corner, put it in your list to Santa. SANTA DOES TOO EXIST. Stop grabbing his shirt already. I know you're thirsty, that's why i told you to bring in your water bottle, i am NOT GETTING YOU A COKE.

  • gone to the boys soccer game (for those of you wondering, yes, they did behave Friday night, no they did not miss a minute of the game, and THEY WON. YAY boys!) Note to the woman who grabbed, then spanked her kid in front of me: I'm not saying it's child abuse, i've had my share of spankings and i've given a few as well, but it is NOT acceptable to do that in front of an entire audience of kids and parents. I don't want to see it, i definitely don't want to hear your kid wail, and you blocked my view of my oldest scoring a goal. THANKYOUVERYMUCH. Next time, it is far more appropriate to just remove the child and have a little 'come to jesus' meeting behind the field, over by the garbage cans. Yes, that IS the appropriate place for those talks, just ask any of the parents that were there - and you would be amazed at how effective a tight sqeeze on the arm as you drag them over there will be. You may find you don't even need to beat, i mean, correct them like that.

  • purchased not 1, not 2 BUT 3 (that's right - 3!!) Christmas gifts! i am an amazingly organized individual. That only leaves about 100 more gifts to go. Let's see, i think i can hold off now until Dec 23rd...

  • cleaned out the fridge Ok, i need a bigger fridge. What do you mean people actually clean these out weekly? Like once a week? Seriously? Hmm. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not gonna happen. Upside is we're ahead on this year's science project for 3rd grade. I'm pretty sure T1 will be able to take penicillin in it's natural state to class soon.

  • did the linens on all the beds I want a new bed. And some new sheets. Does santa know anyone at Restoration Hardware?

  • turned the china cabinet into a goul-ish apothecary for halloween (still needs some tweaking - but it's cute and the boys like it) T2, do not open the china cabinet again. Did you hear me? STOP, you're going to break the glass in the door slamming it like that. TURN THAT FORTUNE TELLING GHOST OFF - it's creepy as hell. DID YOU HEAR ME??!!?

  • read a few new blogs Thank you Diva Ma, for letting me drool over your template (it's the bomb) so much so that it prompted this renovation of my own. Great space woman!

  • downloaded pics for post this week Be warned, it's college football season, that's all I'm saying. Lots of FOOTBALL PICS COMING AT YA. Yes, you will get to see what i look like when i have been drinking margaritas all afternoon before a football game. Yes, I do still manage to look fabulous. Not as fabulous as i would if my eyelids were all the way open, but i have to give the other girls a chance, know what i mean? Oh, and i have some great pics from a great little concert we went to last week to. Once again, eyelides half-mast. Get a grip girl - NO DRINKING AND CLICKING WITH THE CAMERA.

  • subscribed to Mr. Linky (all because i want to participate in the fall drive by for porches on parade over here (she has the MOST BEAUTIFUL TASTE AND I DROOOOOOOOOL OVER HER SITE - look for her button somewhere around here...now dammit...where DID i put it....ahh...there it is...look to the left for gorgeous front door pic)

  • Set up a new email account for Thing 1 so that he in turn, could set up a blogger account so that he could BLOG. Yes, ladies, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He has a laptop and isn't afraid to use it. Beware though, his posts will be more about Star Wars than mommy wars, and i gave him carte blanche to take his anger at me out through his writing. And, yes, that indeed IS how his blog came to be. I was trying my damndest to write this morning - i had such great plans. Sit on my back porch, with my coffee and laptop and blog my little heart out. His plan was to, well do ANYTHING to get my attention away from the laptop. So....to keep my head from exploding (did i mention IT was on it's way?) i offered up this little nugget and he jumped on it. Yay me - one for me and his teacher - i figure this should count for daily journaling - right??

I'm exhausted just reading that list. So, are you in a nesting mood? Fall in Florida gets me there - our temps drop to tolerable, we can finally sleep with the windows open, and everything seems so ...perfect. At least for awhile. 5 MINUTES...JUST 5 MINUTES OF PERFECT. Is it too terribly much to ask?

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Reason #2,855

Reminder number 2,855 of why i'm not still married to the Things' dad.

Exchange during the ex dropping the kids off after soccer practice this week.

Him: The game's at 1 o'clock Saturday.
Me: Ok. Boys, did you happen to mention to your dad that if you pull any of the shenanigans
that you pulled last night that you have to sit out for the first 15 minutes of the game?

Ts' heads simultaneously look at the pavement in the garage...hey, neat, there's a trail of ants heading into that crack, under that moving box....i wonder if we could makes ourselves small enough and disappear with them....

Him: Uh, no, we're not doing that. I need them for that game.

Excuse me?? Did you just say "we're not doing that" as if you have a fucking say? The last time i checked they were in my house, with my rules, and you're standing in my GODDAM garage. Back the fuck up.

Me: I'm sorry. That was not a suggestion. It's a reality. They know the rules, and that's the
price they pay if they repeat last night's performance. You don't get to mandate how I discipline in my own house.

That sound you hear is his head exploding. It's like the vulcan mindmeld, but on himself. He.hates.me.

Him: You CAN'T do that, Sheri. That's not fair to me. You need to find something else to
take away. They have an obligation to their team. I need all my players.


Me: This isn't about you, it's about finding a currency that's so important to them they don't want to jeopardize losing it. Right now, that currency is soccer. Thank you Dr. Phil. How's that WORKIN FOR YA?.

Him: Then I'm not going to coach anymore, that's it.

Me: Ok?? I didn't tell you to coach in the first place - remember?

Him: We'll talk about this later. I'm calling Dr. Barker.

That is our post divorce family therapist. Why don't you call your mommy too? What do you think calling him is going to do? Now you're just embarrassing yourself. Stop. Now.

Me: There is nothing to talk about. And as long as they remember tonight to act appropriately, there isn't anything to worry about, because they'll be there for the full game.

Ok, in case you were wondering, this is your clue to LEAVE.

Him: They have an obligation to their team, SHERI.

Me: They also have an obligation to behave appropriately. That's part of it. If they don't want to let their team down, they need to start thinking about how their actions carry consequences, and those consequences affect OTHERS. Period.

Do you get it, at all?? Please leave. I'm beginning to take back everything i keep telling people about how great we all get along. And that's really starting to upset me. Because i really want to like you as a person, but you are testing my limits here bud.

Am I just a bad mom here? I feel like i'm doing the right thing. We never did see eye to on child rearing, and I'm ALWAYS made out to be the bad guy in these situations. I can't tell you how many times my kids have said to me "You're a mean mommy!"

And HE is wearing on me. He puts on a good show and IT PISSES ME OFF. He shows up for teacher conferences and is at every conference we've had for T1, BUT WHAT ABOUT THE DAY TO DAY STUFF THAT MAKES THEM WHAT THEY ARE? Cooking dinner every night? I'm so goddam tired of hearing my kids say when they go over there they eat kids cuisine or have pizza. I'm virtually banned from ordering pizza in my house because it's a staple over there. T2 actually said to me after having been over at HIS house "mommy, can you cook tonight?". What about making them brush their teeth? OR making them REALLY bathe. OR CLEAN THEIR ROOMS?? OR like we just witnessed, hold them accountable for the little things like actions because one day, their actions ARE GOING TO HOLD CONSEQUENCES FAR MORE IMPORTANT THAN A FREAKIN SOCCER GAME.

Everyone keeps telling me that i'm giving them what they need, but all i hear is how much i suck and how fun it is to be at dad's. I'M SO TIRED OF BEING WHAT THEY NEED, I WANT TO BE WHAT THEY WANT.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

A Very Very Sweet Surprise

Look at this puppy. Isn't this great?? This was just the greatest surprise this afternoon from a very sweet person. And she wrote such a nice card that made me smile all afternoon. I know, i'm getting all sappy on ya. Screw that, it's my blog and i can write sap if i want to. Hmmm, all of that screaming at the Things about the proper way to dust has really paid off - i can see a reflection in the table. Ahhh...and who said screaming at your kids doesn't get you anything. Ha suckers, keep believing that - I HAVE BAPTIST BOOTCAMP DOWN TO A SCIENCE IN THIS HOUSE.

I have been under tremendous stress as of late. Parent/Teacher conferences, multiple showings for my house - traffic in, traffic out (SELL ALREADY DAMMIT). And, then of course, the hostile takeover my company's in right now. Ok...so it really isn't a hostile takeover...it's a merger of complimentary companies...cough, gag, cough...SPEW. And, did i mention that before i came to this company, i left a company I had been with for 11 years because THE SAME DAMN AQUIRING COMPANY BOUGHT THAT COMPANY TOO??

I will very soon be employed by the same company that I RAN SCREAMING AWAY FROM 2 years ago. Talk about the universe trying to send you a message.

Anyway...back to the sweet angel that blessed me with this gift today. This is from Ms. Kim! Kimberly works a company that handles a big piece of my business (hey, i'm nothing if not specific LOL) Anyway, she GETS ME. And i lose things constantly. important things. like emails. about stuff. stuff that's important. AND SHE ALWAYS HAS THEM AND RESENDS THEM TO ME. You rock Kimberly. And...the more I write this...the more it dawns on me that I SHOULD BE SENDING THIS TO YOU. Well, guess what chickie - i'd love to share but the only thing left of that thing is STICKS, sticks sticking out of some cabbage-y looking stuff that i'm pretty sure isn't meant to be eaten. But, trust me....those chocolate strawberries are...uhm....were...yeah, that's it...were...they're gone remember... AMAZING.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Monday Morning TMI

So, I have this problem. An e-x-p-a-n-d-i-n-g one.
No, it's not my ass, but thanks for asking.
Nor is it my checkbook - that thing's been on a diet since 1996.

It is SEVERE bloat trapped in my gut. Isn't that pretty? It comes and goes, but has been coming a whole lot more than going as of late, and i didn't even get to have any fun getting it that way. Drinking too much beer or eating fried, greasy, salty foods. NOPE. I eat HEALTHY. So what the hell.

Let's compound that problem with:
constipation (hey, i gave you fair warning in today's title)

slight yeast infection
and anxiety issues that just pushed my stomach over the edge this weekend.

We were visiting V's family this weekend and yesterday over brunch, his mom and i start discussing this whole anxiety, sour stomach issue and the like and I mention that i've had 3 anxiety or panic attacks in as many months. She asked if i take anything for them and i said, "well no, i've never been good at taking meds" and just for the record, i'm not sure if i want to start. Especially since this is a new problem that has developed as of late. Certainly if it came late to my party, you would think it would have the decency to leave soon, right? But i have to say, it made me start to really think, maybe i'm not being honest with myself, maybe i DO need a little somethin-somethin to get through this rough patch. So, on the drive home when i had 4 hours to kill - that's what consumed my brain. Well, that and the fact that my bloated stomach HURT LIKE A BITCH. I didn't get to eat as much lunch as i seriously could have or even SHOULD have because my stomach felt like it had one of the Mickey Mouse helium balloons from Disney World trapped in my gut.

So, i get home last night and go straight to the computer to self-diagnose. THAT'S ALWAYS GOOD, DONTCHA THINK? Drives V crazy. He's probably right. I come away thinking i have a tumor with 3 months to live all because of a little gas.

Anyway, you know how one google leads to another..? Well, i google BLOAT AND CONSTIPATION and up pops Actevia. That leads me to google LIVE cultures, which leads me to google to probiotics - which give me a link for candida. YEAST.

And this is what i find on MULTIPLE SITES:
Too much yeast will severly bloat and constipate. Obviously give you yeast infections from hell, rashes and creepy crawly skin (I have issues where i'm begging V to scratch my back somewhere because it feels like a gazillion spiders are deep inside my skin, and no amount of scratching seems to really get at it) AND CAUSE PANIC AND ANXIETY ATTACKS. How you ask? Because your gut is the prime sensor for telling you when something is amiss, and when your gut is filled with yeast - it can't do it's job, so it sends (as V's stepdad puts it) false alarms off. It is also compounded by hormones (thanks God, because we women didn't get enough shit for biting the godforsaken apple - it's crap like this that makes me seriously doubt that god is a woman) - so right before you ovulate or get your period - IT INCREASES. And don't even think about having sex because all of that shit up in your hoo-ha, well that's just an early xmas present to your man for wanting to paw all over you.

So....i'm thinking i have a BIG FAT YEAST ROLL OF A PROBLEM.

So...this is day one of ACTEVIA, in addition, i'm going to pick up THREELAC - another, stronger, probiotic in powder form at the health food store tonight - because there's this great debate as to whether ACTEVIA does what it really claims because yeast feeds off of sugars (and it's got sugar added) and if the cultures in actevia actually make it past the stomach into the intestines where those little fuckers need to be to get rid of this crap.

SO - here's my call out to my virtual girlfriends - PLEASE TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE THAT HAS THIS ISSUE - and tell me what you're doing about it. Muchos Flatulence.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

1st Month of School done and 1 Parent/Teacher Conference already...I'd say that's about right.

Appropriate mom clothes. check.
Pen/paper. check
Blackberry on vibrate.check
Swig of Vodka in the parking lot. check.
Altoids. Check.

Ok you, don't get mad before you even get inside the door. Shit, M's here first. Damn, how did he beat me here - i mean really, he never was this prompt before the divorce. Half the time he didn't even know we had kids, much less where the school was located.

Me: "Hi, I'm here to meet Mrs. C for a 2:30 meeting."
School Secretary: "Ah, yes, your husband's already in the room, you can go on in."
Me: "He's not my husband. We're not married."
School Secretary: "...uh..oh. Well, your, I mean, he, he's already in the room."
Me: "Thanks."

Well, at least THAT was fun. Why bother mentioning the actual word, "divorce"...it's much more fun to watch THEM trying to determine if I'm living in sin. Ok, i feel better. Keep walking.

Mrs C.: "...and then he was really worried that the overhead went off for a code RED. The
poor thing was really upset. We all were really, we've never...."

I'm sorry, did you just say "code red"?? What the hell is that?

Me: "I'm sorry, am I late?"
Mrs. C: "Oh, no, you're not late, i was explaining to M that we had our first code red and it really upset T1."
Me: "and what is that..a code red?"
Mrs. C: "There was a burglary suspect that cut across the PE field and ran under our pavillion and they asked us to go into lockdown until the police apprehended him. Your son was really upset. And that is what i really wanted to talk to you both about, he has high anxiety issues. That...and well your son is nothing, if not, well, honest.

Ok, first of all, didn't i write an entire email to you before school started describing the personality traits of T1, and how he has anxiety attacks when confronted with situations that he feels are outside of his control. And how he would be clingy for the first few weeks until he got the drill down? It's not like he doesn't get this honestly. Me and Grey Goose, we're TIGHT. And speaking of 'honest' - what is that last comment about??

Me: "Ok, well, I think I told you about this before school started, right? We've had to address this every year, same thing. Anxiety, clingyness, focus issues."
Mrs. C.: "Right. Well, he i just wanted to talk to you about it because it's disruptive to his learning and maybe we need to keep an eye on it to determine if we need to do something further. I really wouldn't bring it up except that yesterday when I asked the class to raise their hands and give me 100% with showing respect and starting the day ready to learn, T1's hand stayed down."
Me: "Ok...."
Mrs. C.: "And I asked him why he didn't raise his hand, he was the only one in class who didn't, and he said 'Because it would be dishonest."

Me: "ok..."
Mrs. C: "And I asked him how would it be dishonest, and he said because..he could only give 52%."

T1, baby, you continue to make me laugh. That is freaking brilliant. You are SOOO getting ice cream when i pick you up today.

Me: "Well, that IS honest."
Mrs. C: "..yes...well. I think we need to work on this, don't you?"
Me: "Did you ask him why he could only give you 52%?"
Mrs. C: "Yes. He said he felt like that was as much as he could promise and stick to it."

See, i think there's a lesson here people. if you don't have it to give, don't offer it up. or make promises you can't keep. Take it from an 8 year old - honesty is EVERYTHING. Hear that PTA?? I can only give 52%....no, make that 40%....or maybe just 20%....

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

What I learned at my kids' Open House Night

  1. I REALLY don't like a lot of people.

  2. I am not a volunteer'er and i am WAY more than OK with NOT spending $50 in baking supplies so that the class can sell cakes and cookies at the bake sale for $.05 each and make $30 TOTAL. Let's call this stupidity over and i'll cut ya a check and keep the $20 diff, k?

  3. My ass is WAY too big to sit in my kid's tiny plastic 2nd grade chair.

  4. Putting makeup on, cute sandals, skinny jeans AND accessories is WAY overdressed for this event. Note for nexte year: Keds and mom jeans are the apparent dress code. Note to override previous note: I will NEVER wear mom jeans. Or keds.

  5. Teachers are not paid enought to put up with both kids AND parents. Parents, when they say that the night is for an overview of what's going on in class and NOT about your specific child - THEY MEAN IT ALREADY - STOP taking up Ms.Crabtree's time about why Sally doesn't like where she's sitting and how she's just not challenged enough in class. We get it, your kid is a gifted - and you're obnoxious.

  6. The lunchroom smells exactly the same as it did when I was in 2nd grade - what in the HELL do they feed us in elementary school that makes it smell like canned green beans, plastic tupperware and PineSol??

  7. PTA folks - you TOOK UP WAY TOO MUCH TIME telling us how much money you need this year. Here's a thought. Let's scrap Harvest Hoedown, Beach Blanket BBQ, Sally Foster, and Theme Basket Auctions and just tell each parent to send in a check for $300 and we're done. Kind of goes with #2 above. However, If you really want to have an event and get into our wallets - think of something with alcohol and music. There's a reason strip clubs serve alcohol and play loud music, people - TO MAKE GETTING MONEY OUT OF A WALLET MUCH EASIER. Think about it.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Are you smarter than a 2nd grader?

Final words before lights out last night:

Thing 2, climbing up the ladder to the top bunk: "Mom, you ARE going to be there to meet me after school RIGHT???"

OK, yesterday you didn't want me within 20 feet of you at pickup, WTH?? I had cursed your little ass for growing up so quick and shoving me aside at the tender age of 7. Not that i'm holding a grudge or anything. Nope, not me, i'll just quietly sit in the car and wait on you to find me. This must be what MY mother feels like.

Me: "Nope, you have golf team after school remember? I'll pick you up after,"

Thing 2: "NO MOOOOOOMMMM, you HAVE to be there after school, somebody has to walk me over to the coach - it's the rule - REMEMBER??? You're going to get me in trouble!!!"

Look kid, you better get used to it. At least it's for something small like cutting across the middle school soccer field un-chaperoned - and not my mouth. You will come to understand that it's usually what comes out of my mouth that gets EVERYONE in trouble. I'm apologizing now in advance for all the torture that i'm sure you will be forced to endure as you grow up.

Me: "Babe, your teacher walks you over, just like she did last week - and the week before that. What's the deal - why are you having such a meltdown?"


Me: "T2, look, whatever teacher teaches tomorrow, i'm sure they are more than capable of walking all the boys over to golf team."


Me, laughing out loud: "Do you mean he's a substitute??"

Thing 2: "HE'S NOT SMART ENOUGH TO BE A REAL TEACHER - THAT'S WHY HE'S ONLY A RENTAL!! They won't let him teach for real."

See, he is my kid after all. Come on, everybody thinks it, but only the smallest ones are able to just put it right out there. Mr. Substitute Teacher, I salute you. Good luck to you. I hope you turn out to be REALLY SMART. Smarter than a 2nd grader anyway.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

If it's not one thing, it's your mother.

I sincerely believe that. Because my mother is the QUEEN of pouncing on me just when other things in my life begin to settle down. It makes one really appreciate the phrase "no rest for the wicked".


This is the best mother-daughter scene EVER. It's funny because it's TRUE and it depicts every fight i've ever had with my mother. Thank you, Ya-Yas. It is because of moments just like this in my life that i got down on the ground at my first ultrasound at the sight of my son's pee-pie. HALLUJAH, the crazy stops here.

I was born and raised in the south. YES, FLORIDA IS THE SOUTH. In fact, i'm pretty sure you can't go much farther south. We southerners are crazy. If you've seen any films like the one above depicting crazy southern women, or others like Steel Magnolias, Sweet Home Alabama, Something to Talk About and the like, . . . and you're not from the south, you probably think that Hollywood is just hyping up that southern stereotype.

Silly girls.

I love my mother and while i'm sure she loves me (I think it's a law that your mother has to love you right? Especially if you're her only child..?) We don't get along all of the time. IN FACT, i would venture to say that we're are going to have some kind of knock down dragout fight at least once a year. Over something stupid or small that gets totally out of hand. And neither one of us will give in, goddam it, because someone has to win - otherwise that fight was justed wasted energy that we could have put into:

  • a) yelling at our significant other (because southern women always get the last word when fighting with a man)

  • b) gossiping about another woman from from church or junior league

  • c) or fighting with the older generation - i.e. HER mother. (i actually prefer this one because it's like watching the Olympics)
So far, this fight has lasted 7 weeks. No phone calls. No emails. No nothing. hmmm.

Ask me what it's over and i couldn't tell ya. I mean, I could tell you where it started (at V disciplining Thing 1 harsher than she thought necessary)...but it's not where it eventually went to an hour later (as she was SCREAMING at me and my dad on the balcony of our vacation condo that she didn't approve of my lifestyle. No, i'm not a stripper, i'm actually a pretty well paid account manager for an ISP)...or where it ended up when I told my dad that "She needs to go. You need to take her. NOW." (This was when she told me that i had NEVER LIKED HER, I HAD ALWAYS HATED HER) Seriously?? What am i... 13?? Somebody get this drama queen an agent - with scenes like this, there's big money to be made.

I will keep y'all posted on this cold war and let you know if there are any new developments. In the meantime, i will go and make sure my phone line is working so that when she does call, it will ring through loud and clear.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

I wanted it all and that's what I got

Main Entry: di·chot·o·my
Pronunciation: \dī-ˈkä-tə-mē also də-\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural di·chot·o·mies
Etymology: Greek dichotomia, from dichotomos
Date: 1610

1: a division into two especially mutually exclusive or contradictory groups or entities dichotomy between theory and practice>; also : the process or practice of making such a division <dichotomy of the population into two opposed classes>
2: the phase of the moon or an inferior planet in which half its disk appears illuminated
3 a: bifurcation; especially : repeated bifurcation (as of a plant's stem) b: a system of branching in which the main axis forks repeatedly into two branches c: branching of an ancestral line into two equal diverging branches
4: something with seemingly contradictory qualities dichotomy, this opulent Ritz-style luxury in a place that fronts on a boat harbor — Jean T. Barrett>

Definition number 4, that's me. A seemingly contradictory girl.

I blame it on Barbie. and Jane Fonda. oh, and Samantha, from Bewitched - especially when they aired the episodes where elizabeth montgomery was both Samantha and her evil cousin with the black pixie wig, Sheila (is that right? can't remember her name...anyway, i digress...). I have become a walking contradiction.

Womens' Rights or the right to be a woman?

When i was growing up in the 70's and 80's, the wheels had already been set in motion for women to climb the corporate ladder. Our moms before us had burned their bras in the sixties (as well as some grass, and even possibly their roots when dying their hair) all for women's lib. They had a mission - to make life better for their daughters. And they succeeded, as evidenced by the likes of Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin.

My mom was in the workforce AND going to college at night and since my dad had a full time job, it fell to my grandmother to watch me during the day. So, for much of the day I got to watch my grandmother work in the garden, can preserves, keep house, start dinner and make sure my grandfather had everything he needed.

Later on, when i didn't need my grandmother to watch me after school, i started paying more attention to the other woman in my life. My mother. This is why i'm screwed up. I had 2 role models that were polar opposites. My mother could not have been MORE different than my grandmother if she had tried. She worked, she bossed, she traveled overseas for work at times. All her friends called her for advice on everything: work, clothes, men. She ran the show. Oh, and as far as dealing with my dad, let's just say she wasn't too interested in whether my dad had what he needed or not. He was an adult - he could manage. And that's how it was.

When i was alone, my free time was spent with my Barbie Doll - who, when i was 8yrs old, only had one goal, to get the corvette, marry Ken and live in the Dreamhouse and throw pool parties for her little sister Skipper's 16th birthday.

And when i wasn't pretending that Barbie and Ken were DOING IT (come on, fess up, everyone of you out there stripped those clothes off of those plastic people when your parents weren't around and made those dolls dry hump each other until the wax started to melt. ok, so you didn't?? Really...wow. get out. Maybe I deserved that strange look then when I returned my vibrator last week for burning up after a month...)

Anyway, what i was saying is that when i wasn't playing Barbie, i was watching the likes of Samantha in Bewitched staying at home, keeping house by twitching her nose, and making sure that a martini was waiting when Derwood walked through the door and that dinner was on their table by 6. She ALWAYS looked cute. perfect little outfits for daytime, and very ladylike dresses for dinner with the Tates. sigh.

I truly expected, at age 8, to grow up and fall right into that role. Work? As in paycheck? Seriously? I was going to have kids, play tennis. Work was FOR THE HUSBAND OF COURSE.
Then, my pre-teens hit. I was surrounded by my friends who were deciding to be lawyers, doctors, engineers (my friend, Renee, became an engineer, actually an imagineer. I hated Renee) Renee, if you're out there, I HATE THAT I STOPPED TRYING IN MATH AND THAT YOU WON THE MATH FAIR ONLY BECAUSE I WAS TOO LAZY TO ACTUALLY WORK. You should know that I made out with your boyfriend behing the locker rooms when you were standing in the GYM getting your math fair ribbon for 1st place. You win. You got the Disney Dreamers and Doers Award and a blue ribbon, I got frenched and detention.

Anyway, goals changed. I went to college got a job, got a better job. Bought a house ALL BY MYSELF. Got a promotion. Got another promotion. Then ended making more money than my then-husband with 2 degrees and his own business. Life was GOOD. Kind of.
But every now and then, something would stop me in my tracks and i would ACHE for something i never got to have. And i still do. I ache for the 1960s. No, i wasn't around in 1960 - but that decade, that life. Well defined roles. Men in the workforce. Wives at home. Ladies lunching together. Saturday nights out on the town that meant actually getting dressed up.

I want to see women dressed like this when they leave the house:

carrying handbags like this...

I am SO TIRED of seeing young women, even older women, for that matter, dressing as if they don't care. STOP showing up to Wal-mart in your pajamas. STOP wearing shorts that barely cover your rear. STOP thinking that getting INK all over your body is a good look. That look should still be only reserved for service men, truckers and king crab fishermen, k? STOP putting that beautiful body of yours in CRAP. Show yourself some much deserved respect.

I want elegance back. I want femininity and mystery back. I want to see gentlemen treat their women with respect. Open doors and pull out chairs and speak LOVINGLY to their families. I want dinner and dancing BACK. I want to have a reason to pull out a dress like this on a Saturday night.

And before some of my very good demmies have a stroke, no, i haven't lost my mind and flown the coop for the right. I still believe in a woman's right to equal pay, and the right to choose and all those wonderful things. But i'm having an identity crisis. Please let me have it without getting bashed too terribly hard.

There is a big part of me, that as i sit here watching the news, wonders if the statement that V said to me a few nights back wasn't spot on. He wondered out loud if we would have half the issues we have in our economy today if women were still trying to be home-makers. There might be, **gasp, choke, gasp** enough work to go around. BEFORE YOU GET ALL RIGHTEOUS, please let me point out that we were both having a moment of melancholy and he still very much believes in the best person for the job, etc - HE STILL VOTES FOR WOMEN'S RIGHTS. He just, like me, is a little tired, a little worn ragged, a little depressed with our economy right now and what we see around us.

It will never be the simplistic time that it was in 1960. I know that. And, honestly, if it really came down to it, i wouldn't want that time back. As elegant and simplistic as it was, they were also building bomb shelters and living in fear of an atomic obliteration, and then Vietnam was right around the corner. So, no, i'm not wishing that back for any of us.

But a girl can still dream of beautiful clothes, nice manners and evening out with her prince, right?