I've been hunting for a job, as you all know. I've been applying in a large pool in a wide field- casting my net, so to speak.
There was an ad in the local paper last night. A small locally owned company with 1 full time person and one part time person is looking for an office clerk. It said to apply in person at this business during business hours.
So after lunch today I got dressed in nice black trousers, black conservative heels, a white turtleneck and a wool blazer. I was conservative and dressy. I printed my resume on nice thick creamy paper. Make up and jewelry were at the interview recommended minimum. See, I was looking the part and ready to dazzle. (When I did HR if someone came in to get an application and looked like a slob I remembered!)
I arrive at the business right after lunch, thinking a full employer might be a happy employer! I went in the door and... there was merchandise stacked floor to ceiling in boxes. There were replacement parts and used items this office specialized in stacked everywhere, on the floor, counter, desks.... everywhere. And full of dust and dirt. O-kay...
There was an elderly gentleman behind the counter. He said hi. I introduced myself, offered a hand shake and told him I was there to apply for the position. He looked at me, and looked at my resume. Then he asked me how old I was. *WHAT?* Yup, he asked my age. Now, I looked at this old guy and his "office." He wasn't a dirty old man at all, but he was just an old guy, doing his thing, who was obviously utterly clueless in EOE guidelines. This fella was functioning old school. Really old school. So rather than call him on it, I told him. He told me I was just a youngster, thanked me for my resume and said me might just give me a call to have a "go at" his computer.
The computer in question, at least the one I could see, looked like a Tandy 2600...
I have no idea if this man really wants to hire help or not, or if he's just lonely and wants people to stop by to visit and have human contact. This doesn't seem to be the sort of business that is going to have folks in and out or browsing. It's a speciality store and trust, me, you're only going there for ONE thing. And I might be surprised and he might really call me to talk about a real job there. Who knows?
So... with that "successful" venture under my belt, I came home, cleaned the kitchen, and did laundry. Maybe I should hang out my shingle as a laundress...
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Extra, Extra, read all about it!
When I was a 10 years old I got a paper route. I was the youngest person to ever have a route. And I loved it. I always collected on time and paid the paper back for what I sold and I did it on time. I tried to sell subscriptions and there were always contests sponsored by the newspaper for all sorts of prizes, and I usually did well.
I didn't have the sort of route where I could ride my bike and toss papers on the porch. I had terrible aim and could never hit the porch, to start with. I could hit pets, people, flower beds and if there was a body of water from a puddle to a kiddie pool my hurled paper would land there no matter what. And I had lots of older people on my route who would like the paper placed in a certain spot. Rather than riding my bike place to place, I would walk my route. I left papers in mailboxes, between doors, on a table on the porch, and for one lady I even opened the door to her sun porch and left the paper on her recliner.
My customers were really nice folks. I had a 5 block walk or bike ride before I ever delivered my first paper, which at age 10 wasn't a big deal. The paper was an afternoon one so I would get home from school and get my papers and take off. Sometimes one of my parents would pick me up and have my newspapers along and leave me at the start of my route. I had about 48 customers and a few businesses on my route. Because I was a girl and because I was so young, the customers on my route were pretty protective of me. If I was running "late", which means I wasn't late but didn't have their paper delivered by the usual time, people would call my folks to ask if I was okay, not to complain.
I had customers who would have cups of cocoa ready for me in the winter. I had people who baked me treats and would give me after school snacks on a daily basis. Christmas time was a huge haul because I got presents, money and baked goodies. Because I couldn't ride and deliver, there was a couple at the beginning of my route who let me park my bike on their porch and I would loop around and get it when I was done. One couple had video game system and we didn't have one at home so they would let me play anytime. The man who owned the gas station would make "bets" with me for glass bottles of Pepsi. I got presents on my birthday. I had a few people who would fix me breakfast because Saturday was a morning edition so I would have breakfast with different folks. So, I had some really nice people on my paper route.
Except for one.
Mr. James Gardner.
He was mean. Really really mean. First, he had a yippy dog that he didn't tie up. Sometimes it chased me. Other times it was blocking the porch so I couldn't get the paper in the right spot and then he would call the circulation department and complain about me. Sometimes his dog even chewed the paper and again Mr. James Gardner would call the office and complain about me. He was difficult to collect from. He dodged me when possible or pretended to not be home. When I finally could corner him he would always want to pay me with $100 bill that he knew I wouldn't have change for. Then when I left him several notes that I would cancel his paper service since he didn't pay me, he would go to the newspaper office and pay his bill, then complain that I never knocked on his door. He never tipped. Papers had to be delivered by 5:30 pm during the week and one time I remember I was late because the papers were late (It was a halt the presses day in a small town!), and he got his paper at 5:38 pm and he had already called and complained to the office- and was standing on his porch yelling at me. He would look for any excuse to yell at me. I talked to his neighbor once and he could see me and then he yelled at me for not being quick enough. Are you getting the picture he was a mean guy? I was just a 10 year old little girl. Really, what a jerk, right?
Well, I lost it. I was 10 or 11 years old at this point and I just lost it. I was on time, I wasn't running late. There was nothing unusual going on. All I did was try to collect payment for the paper. And it happened. He yelled at me, telling me he didn't get a paper the night before and he wanted a discount. Well, I knew I had left him a paper. One, because I just KNEW I had, and two, if I hadn't he would've called and complained and I didn't get a complaint notice. I told him he was wrong and I couldn't give him a discount, but I would get him a yesterday paper and have my parent's bring me back with it in about a half an hour. Then he started yelling at me and that's when it happened:
I yelled back. I was shaking. I think I said something along the lines of: "You're a mean man and I'm never going to deliver your paper again!" And I ripped up the newspaper into bits and I threw the pieces at him, and turned and ran away.
I stormed down the street all indignant and mad. I was shaking. I was upset. And by the time I got to the gas station across the street I was in tears. The guy who owned the station had watched what happened and was trying not to laugh. I was crying because I was mad, because I thought I would be in trouble and lose my job, because I thought my parents would be mad because I was disrespectful to an adult, because I had never treated another person like that in my life, because the adrenaline was gone.
Well, the gas station owner gave me a soda and listened to my story. He knew Mr. James Gardner was a mean and crotchety old man. He knew the guy was trying to not pay me and complained all the time. The owner told me it would be okay and for me to deliver the rest of my papers and then go on home and tell my parents what happened. I took off and did the rest of my route.
When I got home my parents already knew what happened. The gas station owner called and filled them in. My parents knew the trouble Mr. James Gardner had always given me. My mom had already called the newspaper office and they talked. The knew the trouble he had given me. And the gas station owner had called the paper office in my defense. I got to keep my job.
I didn't get in trouble, though my parents did tell me that might not be the best way to handle problems in the future. But the good news: I never had to deliver him a newspaper again.
Years later I found out that the gas station owner knew what happened because he could see and hear the altercation, and the three mechanics who worked for him were all watching and listening, wrenches in hand to come down the block and save me if need be. And they had just cheered for me and howled with laughter. It became a neighborhood legend- and people asked me about it all the next day, and still talk about it now: remember the day the little girl with the huge newspaper bag ripped up the neighborhood terror's, Mr. James Gardner, newspaper and let the wind blow the bit to places unknown, leaving him red faced, and sputtering with a yippy dog in the background, who had to walk to the convenience store to get the paper from then on?
Your former newsie,
Maggie
I didn't have the sort of route where I could ride my bike and toss papers on the porch. I had terrible aim and could never hit the porch, to start with. I could hit pets, people, flower beds and if there was a body of water from a puddle to a kiddie pool my hurled paper would land there no matter what. And I had lots of older people on my route who would like the paper placed in a certain spot. Rather than riding my bike place to place, I would walk my route. I left papers in mailboxes, between doors, on a table on the porch, and for one lady I even opened the door to her sun porch and left the paper on her recliner.
My customers were really nice folks. I had a 5 block walk or bike ride before I ever delivered my first paper, which at age 10 wasn't a big deal. The paper was an afternoon one so I would get home from school and get my papers and take off. Sometimes one of my parents would pick me up and have my newspapers along and leave me at the start of my route. I had about 48 customers and a few businesses on my route. Because I was a girl and because I was so young, the customers on my route were pretty protective of me. If I was running "late", which means I wasn't late but didn't have their paper delivered by the usual time, people would call my folks to ask if I was okay, not to complain.
I had customers who would have cups of cocoa ready for me in the winter. I had people who baked me treats and would give me after school snacks on a daily basis. Christmas time was a huge haul because I got presents, money and baked goodies. Because I couldn't ride and deliver, there was a couple at the beginning of my route who let me park my bike on their porch and I would loop around and get it when I was done. One couple had video game system and we didn't have one at home so they would let me play anytime. The man who owned the gas station would make "bets" with me for glass bottles of Pepsi. I got presents on my birthday. I had a few people who would fix me breakfast because Saturday was a morning edition so I would have breakfast with different folks. So, I had some really nice people on my paper route.
Except for one.
Mr. James Gardner.
He was mean. Really really mean. First, he had a yippy dog that he didn't tie up. Sometimes it chased me. Other times it was blocking the porch so I couldn't get the paper in the right spot and then he would call the circulation department and complain about me. Sometimes his dog even chewed the paper and again Mr. James Gardner would call the office and complain about me. He was difficult to collect from. He dodged me when possible or pretended to not be home. When I finally could corner him he would always want to pay me with $100 bill that he knew I wouldn't have change for. Then when I left him several notes that I would cancel his paper service since he didn't pay me, he would go to the newspaper office and pay his bill, then complain that I never knocked on his door. He never tipped. Papers had to be delivered by 5:30 pm during the week and one time I remember I was late because the papers were late (It was a halt the presses day in a small town!), and he got his paper at 5:38 pm and he had already called and complained to the office- and was standing on his porch yelling at me. He would look for any excuse to yell at me. I talked to his neighbor once and he could see me and then he yelled at me for not being quick enough. Are you getting the picture he was a mean guy? I was just a 10 year old little girl. Really, what a jerk, right?
Well, I lost it. I was 10 or 11 years old at this point and I just lost it. I was on time, I wasn't running late. There was nothing unusual going on. All I did was try to collect payment for the paper. And it happened. He yelled at me, telling me he didn't get a paper the night before and he wanted a discount. Well, I knew I had left him a paper. One, because I just KNEW I had, and two, if I hadn't he would've called and complained and I didn't get a complaint notice. I told him he was wrong and I couldn't give him a discount, but I would get him a yesterday paper and have my parent's bring me back with it in about a half an hour. Then he started yelling at me and that's when it happened:
I yelled back. I was shaking. I think I said something along the lines of: "You're a mean man and I'm never going to deliver your paper again!" And I ripped up the newspaper into bits and I threw the pieces at him, and turned and ran away.
I stormed down the street all indignant and mad. I was shaking. I was upset. And by the time I got to the gas station across the street I was in tears. The guy who owned the station had watched what happened and was trying not to laugh. I was crying because I was mad, because I thought I would be in trouble and lose my job, because I thought my parents would be mad because I was disrespectful to an adult, because I had never treated another person like that in my life, because the adrenaline was gone.
Well, the gas station owner gave me a soda and listened to my story. He knew Mr. James Gardner was a mean and crotchety old man. He knew the guy was trying to not pay me and complained all the time. The owner told me it would be okay and for me to deliver the rest of my papers and then go on home and tell my parents what happened. I took off and did the rest of my route.
When I got home my parents already knew what happened. The gas station owner called and filled them in. My parents knew the trouble Mr. James Gardner had always given me. My mom had already called the newspaper office and they talked. The knew the trouble he had given me. And the gas station owner had called the paper office in my defense. I got to keep my job.
I didn't get in trouble, though my parents did tell me that might not be the best way to handle problems in the future. But the good news: I never had to deliver him a newspaper again.
Years later I found out that the gas station owner knew what happened because he could see and hear the altercation, and the three mechanics who worked for him were all watching and listening, wrenches in hand to come down the block and save me if need be. And they had just cheered for me and howled with laughter. It became a neighborhood legend- and people asked me about it all the next day, and still talk about it now: remember the day the little girl with the huge newspaper bag ripped up the neighborhood terror's, Mr. James Gardner, newspaper and let the wind blow the bit to places unknown, leaving him red faced, and sputtering with a yippy dog in the background, who had to walk to the convenience store to get the paper from then on?
Your former newsie,
Maggie
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Runway to Heaven
There is some religious group in my community where the women wear long skirts, have really long hair and don't wear make-up. They don't wear any head coverings. Clothes don't look hand-made. They drive, have electricity and don't seem to have a huge plethora of kids. I have no idea what the religion is, and I really don't care actually, but it's the dress of the women that struck me.
There were a bunch of these women were at Wally World the other day (yeah, I seem to spend a lot of time at Wal-Mart. Just don't ask...) So anyway, I noticed that they all had on long denim skirts. All the way to the ground denim. They also had on tennis shoes. This, overall, was not a fashion statement of the good. It was not attractive at all. While the women were not necessarily ugly, these unbecoming fashion make them all look very, very short. And sort of stumpy. They were thin, but frumpy-looking. Is that the point?
Back in the Wild West I wore a long denim skirt, a pair of pink cowboy boots, a western shirt and a cool belt and I was looking stylish. I was "in"- I was cool. The more I looked at these women, the more I realized several things about myself.
First, I wanted to rush home and hem all my denim skirts short because I didn't want to be confused as a member of this religion, since I have a non-god issue. Then I thought about it. I could never be confused as a member of this religion because of several things. My hair is way too short- right now I'm sporting a very short pixie cut, short for even pixie standards, so my hair isn't long enough to either hang to my ass or put up in a HUGE bun. And speaking of ass, my ass is waaaaaaay to big to be a member of this church. I swear, ever single one of these women are tiny. Small. Thin. Skinny. There is no way I could belong since I have a fat ass, junk in the trunk, loot in the boot, whatever you want to say, I am just not skinny enough to be there.
And I have fashion sense, which is obviously missing here. I am not a fashion snob- I don't make enough money to be such, and I'm also not a perfect size 5 so not all fashions are meant for me so a fashion snob I am not. But I like to look nice and I try be neat and stylish. Not frumpy. I like clothes. And when I see these women they are always in really really long skirts, denim during the week (their answer to wearing jeans if they were allowed to sport pants?) or floral on Saturdays and Sundays- or dresses with really big flowers on them.
Do you think people with short hair are banned? Are fat people banned? Would I have to grow my hair and lose 25 pounds to join? What if I could make a big financial donation? I do own the long ugly denim skirt and have some tennis socks, after all. Do you think the women are given a brochure of clothes and hair dos and don'ts? Do you think they have a religious version of "What not to Wear"? OMG- I just can't see Clinton and Stacey hosting anything like this... And if this was catching on as a big fashion statement, then how come I'm not seeing a Versace or Armani "God Wear" or "Church" line of clothing?
I dunno. While I'm not religious, I really wonder if God cares what we wear. Is someone wearing a frumpy deim skirt, tennis socks with an ankle ball, no make up, hair to their butts and a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt going to get to heaven before a person in jeans and a Harvard t-shirt sporting eye shadow and loafers? It just seems to be a funny part of a religion to me.
Hey, I'm just sayin'!
Off to hem my skirts,
Maggie
There were a bunch of these women were at Wally World the other day (yeah, I seem to spend a lot of time at Wal-Mart. Just don't ask...) So anyway, I noticed that they all had on long denim skirts. All the way to the ground denim. They also had on tennis shoes. This, overall, was not a fashion statement of the good. It was not attractive at all. While the women were not necessarily ugly, these unbecoming fashion make them all look very, very short. And sort of stumpy. They were thin, but frumpy-looking. Is that the point?
Back in the Wild West I wore a long denim skirt, a pair of pink cowboy boots, a western shirt and a cool belt and I was looking stylish. I was "in"- I was cool. The more I looked at these women, the more I realized several things about myself.
First, I wanted to rush home and hem all my denim skirts short because I didn't want to be confused as a member of this religion, since I have a non-god issue. Then I thought about it. I could never be confused as a member of this religion because of several things. My hair is way too short- right now I'm sporting a very short pixie cut, short for even pixie standards, so my hair isn't long enough to either hang to my ass or put up in a HUGE bun. And speaking of ass, my ass is waaaaaaay to big to be a member of this church. I swear, ever single one of these women are tiny. Small. Thin. Skinny. There is no way I could belong since I have a fat ass, junk in the trunk, loot in the boot, whatever you want to say, I am just not skinny enough to be there.
And I have fashion sense, which is obviously missing here. I am not a fashion snob- I don't make enough money to be such, and I'm also not a perfect size 5 so not all fashions are meant for me so a fashion snob I am not. But I like to look nice and I try be neat and stylish. Not frumpy. I like clothes. And when I see these women they are always in really really long skirts, denim during the week (their answer to wearing jeans if they were allowed to sport pants?) or floral on Saturdays and Sundays- or dresses with really big flowers on them.
Do you think people with short hair are banned? Are fat people banned? Would I have to grow my hair and lose 25 pounds to join? What if I could make a big financial donation? I do own the long ugly denim skirt and have some tennis socks, after all. Do you think the women are given a brochure of clothes and hair dos and don'ts? Do you think they have a religious version of "What not to Wear"? OMG- I just can't see Clinton and Stacey hosting anything like this... And if this was catching on as a big fashion statement, then how come I'm not seeing a Versace or Armani "God Wear" or "Church" line of clothing?
I dunno. While I'm not religious, I really wonder if God cares what we wear. Is someone wearing a frumpy deim skirt, tennis socks with an ankle ball, no make up, hair to their butts and a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt going to get to heaven before a person in jeans and a Harvard t-shirt sporting eye shadow and loafers? It just seems to be a funny part of a religion to me.
Hey, I'm just sayin'!
Off to hem my skirts,
Maggie
Monday, April 27, 2009
Feelin' a Bit Holly Golightly of late
Lately I've been renewing my love affair with Audrey Hepburn. And to anyone who might be a new reader, no I'm not a gay man trapped in a woman's body- I don't think so anyway...
I'm just a huge fan of Audrey Hepburn. I am even sporting her famous pixie cut- though I do want to say I did it because it's practical for summer, not because of my fan obsession! And on MSN my icon happens to be Holly having breakfast in front of Tiffany's. And we all know I've been having my bouts with the mean reds these days. I've been watching her movies that I own on DVD- Roman Holiday, Funny Face, Sabrina, My Fair Lady, and my all time favourite, Breakfast at Tiffany's. I adore this movie. I love this movie. Holly Golightly is one of the best film roles of all times, and I find that I have an affinity such a character, and I have a tendency to be a bit Holly Golightly often.
Just recently I discovered that Truman Capote wrote Breakfast At Tiffany's, as a short story before it became a film. It had some beautiful words and images. I love the way Capote turns a phrase and the words drip like honey off the page. It's delicious. And I think I fell in love with the literary Holly even more than the movie Holly.
So, I've started messing around on the Internet because I wanted 2 things. First, I want a new little black dress and my wonderful friend Curley is the best seamstress in the world. And Daddy-O said he would get the material and every girl just needs a LBD and I want one modeled on one that Audrey wore. The second thing I want is a new sleep mask. I used to have one, and it helped me sleep great, but I've lost it in my move back to Civilization. Of late I've been a member of the Insomnia Club so I think a sleep mask would help. So I was poking around the 'net, looking for a dress pattern and a replica of the sleep mask that Holly wears. And you would not believe what I found.
Audrey and Holly are ALL OVER THE NET! There are some serious fans of Holly Golightly and the effervescent Audrey. Almost scary like fans. Stalker like fans if she were alive. People dress like her and post it on youtube. Bloggers adopt her name, her character names for blogs. Sites are dedicated to Audrey. There are copies of papers people have written about her and also tribute columns. MySpace and Facebook are dedicated to her, usernames of her... just really everything Holly and Audrey. BUT, I did find some cool and fun sites that are clever and entertaining. I also found my pattern and the sleep mask. There are 2 sites I especially I like.
The Fabulous Audrey Hepburn is about all things Audrey, not just Holly Golightly. It's a news and fan site combination. I like it and it's classy without seeming like the blog author is wacko. I've read through and it has all sorts of stuff, like news about new books about Audrey, or when there's an art gallery opening dedicated to her. There's a post about where to find stuff to make a Holly Golightly Halloween costume. There's where to buy Audrey stuff, updates about movies remakes... just everything Audrey, without being "gushy" or fawning over her. I love this site!
One site is totally cool. It's a tourist guide (from Guidespot) to New York City, the Holly Golightly way. It's so much fun. The next time I got to NYC, I want to do it the Holly way, for sure. It gives tips on how to dress for the City, 1001 things to do, a list of childlike activities that would be utterly Holly, the need for a partner in crime, vintage shops to shop Holly style, and of course, the trip wouldn't be complete without a visit to Tiffany's. And may I agree with the site's author and suggest a breakfast in front of Tiffany's, Holly style? The theme is to be spontaneous and adventurous on your trip to the Big Apple. There are lots of fun links to make your trip to the City that Never Sleeps fun beyond your wildest dreams.
And of course there is the official Audrey Hepburn web site, about her life, her children's fund. it's interesting and fun. I love running my cursor around its homepage because a trail of stars follows in a whimsical way that seems to be totally Audrey.
She was an amazing woman and such a great actress. From Sabrina to Eliza and yes, to Holly, the images left on the silver screen were memorable and will last a lifetime. So, go watch an Audrey Hepburn movie- might I suggest Breakfast at Tiffany's? Relax and Enjoy!
I'm just a huge fan of Audrey Hepburn. I am even sporting her famous pixie cut- though I do want to say I did it because it's practical for summer, not because of my fan obsession! And on MSN my icon happens to be Holly having breakfast in front of Tiffany's. And we all know I've been having my bouts with the mean reds these days. I've been watching her movies that I own on DVD- Roman Holiday, Funny Face, Sabrina, My Fair Lady, and my all time favourite, Breakfast at Tiffany's. I adore this movie. I love this movie. Holly Golightly is one of the best film roles of all times, and I find that I have an affinity such a character, and I have a tendency to be a bit Holly Golightly often.
Just recently I discovered that Truman Capote wrote Breakfast At Tiffany's, as a short story before it became a film. It had some beautiful words and images. I love the way Capote turns a phrase and the words drip like honey off the page. It's delicious. And I think I fell in love with the literary Holly even more than the movie Holly.
So, I've started messing around on the Internet because I wanted 2 things. First, I want a new little black dress and my wonderful friend Curley is the best seamstress in the world. And Daddy-O said he would get the material and every girl just needs a LBD and I want one modeled on one that Audrey wore. The second thing I want is a new sleep mask. I used to have one, and it helped me sleep great, but I've lost it in my move back to Civilization. Of late I've been a member of the Insomnia Club so I think a sleep mask would help. So I was poking around the 'net, looking for a dress pattern and a replica of the sleep mask that Holly wears. And you would not believe what I found.
Audrey and Holly are ALL OVER THE NET! There are some serious fans of Holly Golightly and the effervescent Audrey. Almost scary like fans. Stalker like fans if she were alive. People dress like her and post it on youtube. Bloggers adopt her name, her character names for blogs. Sites are dedicated to Audrey. There are copies of papers people have written about her and also tribute columns. MySpace and Facebook are dedicated to her, usernames of her... just really everything Holly and Audrey. BUT, I did find some cool and fun sites that are clever and entertaining. I also found my pattern and the sleep mask. There are 2 sites I especially I like.
The Fabulous Audrey Hepburn is about all things Audrey, not just Holly Golightly. It's a news and fan site combination. I like it and it's classy without seeming like the blog author is wacko. I've read through and it has all sorts of stuff, like news about new books about Audrey, or when there's an art gallery opening dedicated to her. There's a post about where to find stuff to make a Holly Golightly Halloween costume. There's where to buy Audrey stuff, updates about movies remakes... just everything Audrey, without being "gushy" or fawning over her. I love this site!
One site is totally cool. It's a tourist guide (from Guidespot) to New York City, the Holly Golightly way. It's so much fun. The next time I got to NYC, I want to do it the Holly way, for sure. It gives tips on how to dress for the City, 1001 things to do, a list of childlike activities that would be utterly Holly, the need for a partner in crime, vintage shops to shop Holly style, and of course, the trip wouldn't be complete without a visit to Tiffany's. And may I agree with the site's author and suggest a breakfast in front of Tiffany's, Holly style? The theme is to be spontaneous and adventurous on your trip to the Big Apple. There are lots of fun links to make your trip to the City that Never Sleeps fun beyond your wildest dreams.
And of course there is the official Audrey Hepburn web site, about her life, her children's fund. it's interesting and fun. I love running my cursor around its homepage because a trail of stars follows in a whimsical way that seems to be totally Audrey.
She was an amazing woman and such a great actress. From Sabrina to Eliza and yes, to Holly, the images left on the silver screen were memorable and will last a lifetime. So, go watch an Audrey Hepburn movie- might I suggest Breakfast at Tiffany's? Relax and Enjoy!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Guess who has a new blog?
ME!
Yup, just what I need. But I don't know why I never thought of it before! I keep track of the books I read, so I'm going to keep track of the movies I watch.
I've tried to reconstruct the year and have done an okay job. I know I've missed some of the stuff on DVD at home or the "watch the free movies on Comcast" I've watched, but starting now, I'm going to try and keep track of the movies i watch!
So enjoy REEL REVIEWS by Maggie!
Poppin' me some corn,
Mags
Yup, just what I need. But I don't know why I never thought of it before! I keep track of the books I read, so I'm going to keep track of the movies I watch.
I've tried to reconstruct the year and have done an okay job. I know I've missed some of the stuff on DVD at home or the "watch the free movies on Comcast" I've watched, but starting now, I'm going to try and keep track of the movies i watch!
So enjoy REEL REVIEWS by Maggie!
Poppin' me some corn,
Mags
Camping on a beautiful day- why? Better titled: I hate camping!
I drove passed Wal-Mart last night and saw something strange. Go figure- a Wal-Mart in the middle of the Midwest, in a small town full of Rednecks and I saw something strange. I think it would be more miraculous if I said I drove passed and saw something normal. Okay, I digress- anyway. the something strange at Wal-Mart.
It was early evening, and darkness was falling. The parking lot lights had yet to come on. It was a great preview to summer- a beautiful breeze was blowing, it was in the mid 80s with a blue sky and fluffy clouds, with a nice warm sun shining. It was a great day.
So I'm cruising passed the Wally World and in the parking lot near the road was an RV. I guess it was a nice RV, the kind that is actually a bus looking thing, not the 5th wheel kind that you pull behind on your car, but is the RV and car combo. It was nice and clean looking. And it was a big one.
At first glance one might think the people were just stopping to get supplies, or pee or whatever people do at Wal-Mart. And it appeared that they parked away from the rest of the cars since they were huge and took up space.
But with closer examination, I think the owner maybe had other plans for his RV in the Wally World parking lot. Because he had the awning popped up, green AstroTurf laid out, lawn chairs and a grill set up. And he was adjusting his satellite dish.
Since when do people camp in the Wal-Mart parking lot? I mean, really? It's no secret that I HATE camping, but if I was a person who went to the effort of getting an RV which was that nice and I was in a community which had more than a dozen campgrounds within 15 miles, I would not be setting up shop in the Wally World parking lot. Isn't the point of camping bonding with nature, or some such shit like that?
And no, I did more investigating and it was not a "model" RV that was for sale. It was some dude who was CAMPING IN THE WAL-MART PARKING LOT!!!!
Personally, I just want to reiterate that I hate camping and nature. My idea of roughing it is a hotel that doesn't have room service. I don't like to hunt or fish. I hate dirt, mosquitoes and all other bugs. I see no purpose in cooking over a fire or sleeping on the ground or in a bedroom on wheels. I hate bees and other things that sting. I don't like to bird watch or chase butterflies. I thinking building a tent is stupid.
And camp fires? Come on, use matches to make a fire! What is this stick rubbing and rock clicking shit? I can barely read a compass let alone track something by the position of the sun. I am NOT peeing outdoors. I hate spiders and things that crawl. I am not much for hiking or mountain climbing. I want air conditioning, indoor plumbing, and a damn good martini bar. I do not like nature.
If Girl Scouts issued badges for shoes shopping, spotting a pair of Manolo Blahniks, or finding a great sale on a blouse, I am your woman. But this back to nature crap is...yucky.
I was totally into the idea of transcendentalism, and Emerson and Thoreau except for the nature part. Walden pond, my ass!
It isn't because I have to have my cell phone, laptop or a TV. That isn't true at all- give me a book and I am just fine. It isn't a technological thing at all. I just do not like nature or bugs.
There are some things I like about the great outdoors, but the list is really, really short. I love moonlight and lots of stars. I love watching the sun set. I like s'mores. I am good at sitting in a canoe and reading as I float down the river. I like riding horses, and I enjoy gardening, I might even plant culinary and medicinal herb gardens this summer. Okay- that is the short list, and see, I told you it was short.
Since I have the box set of Sex and the City, I was watching an episode where Carrie went camping with Adian. She realized she couldn't camp. As I watched that I laughed my ass off (and that's a lotta laughing) because she could be echoing me. I don't do camping. Anyone and everyone who has ever met me knows this. City girls just don't camp. Give me my Starbucks, my high heels, and my city noises because camping is just not my cup of coffee.
And to the dude in the Wal-Mart parking lot: you weren't camping either! Give up! Sell the RV and use the spoils to go back to the hotels, buy a $5 latte, surf the 'net using your fancy-shmancy satellite dish for a condo in Hawaii, because you weren't communing with nature in the parking lot, you weirdo! That was not camping!
Now that I have that off my chest, I need to go battle my way through the jungle like malls for Kohls is having a shoe sale... hmmmm, that sounds like nature!
Camping is for the birds- literally,
Mags
It was early evening, and darkness was falling. The parking lot lights had yet to come on. It was a great preview to summer- a beautiful breeze was blowing, it was in the mid 80s with a blue sky and fluffy clouds, with a nice warm sun shining. It was a great day.
So I'm cruising passed the Wally World and in the parking lot near the road was an RV. I guess it was a nice RV, the kind that is actually a bus looking thing, not the 5th wheel kind that you pull behind on your car, but is the RV and car combo. It was nice and clean looking. And it was a big one.
At first glance one might think the people were just stopping to get supplies, or pee or whatever people do at Wal-Mart. And it appeared that they parked away from the rest of the cars since they were huge and took up space.
But with closer examination, I think the owner maybe had other plans for his RV in the Wally World parking lot. Because he had the awning popped up, green AstroTurf laid out, lawn chairs and a grill set up. And he was adjusting his satellite dish.
Since when do people camp in the Wal-Mart parking lot? I mean, really? It's no secret that I HATE camping, but if I was a person who went to the effort of getting an RV which was that nice and I was in a community which had more than a dozen campgrounds within 15 miles, I would not be setting up shop in the Wally World parking lot. Isn't the point of camping bonding with nature, or some such shit like that?
And no, I did more investigating and it was not a "model" RV that was for sale. It was some dude who was CAMPING IN THE WAL-MART PARKING LOT!!!!
Personally, I just want to reiterate that I hate camping and nature. My idea of roughing it is a hotel that doesn't have room service. I don't like to hunt or fish. I hate dirt, mosquitoes and all other bugs. I see no purpose in cooking over a fire or sleeping on the ground or in a bedroom on wheels. I hate bees and other things that sting. I don't like to bird watch or chase butterflies. I thinking building a tent is stupid.
And camp fires? Come on, use matches to make a fire! What is this stick rubbing and rock clicking shit? I can barely read a compass let alone track something by the position of the sun. I am NOT peeing outdoors. I hate spiders and things that crawl. I am not much for hiking or mountain climbing. I want air conditioning, indoor plumbing, and a damn good martini bar. I do not like nature.
If Girl Scouts issued badges for shoes shopping, spotting a pair of Manolo Blahniks, or finding a great sale on a blouse, I am your woman. But this back to nature crap is...yucky.
I was totally into the idea of transcendentalism, and Emerson and Thoreau except for the nature part. Walden pond, my ass!
It isn't because I have to have my cell phone, laptop or a TV. That isn't true at all- give me a book and I am just fine. It isn't a technological thing at all. I just do not like nature or bugs.
There are some things I like about the great outdoors, but the list is really, really short. I love moonlight and lots of stars. I love watching the sun set. I like s'mores. I am good at sitting in a canoe and reading as I float down the river. I like riding horses, and I enjoy gardening, I might even plant culinary and medicinal herb gardens this summer. Okay- that is the short list, and see, I told you it was short.
Since I have the box set of Sex and the City, I was watching an episode where Carrie went camping with Adian. She realized she couldn't camp. As I watched that I laughed my ass off (and that's a lotta laughing) because she could be echoing me. I don't do camping. Anyone and everyone who has ever met me knows this. City girls just don't camp. Give me my Starbucks, my high heels, and my city noises because camping is just not my cup of coffee.
And to the dude in the Wal-Mart parking lot: you weren't camping either! Give up! Sell the RV and use the spoils to go back to the hotels, buy a $5 latte, surf the 'net using your fancy-shmancy satellite dish for a condo in Hawaii, because you weren't communing with nature in the parking lot, you weirdo! That was not camping!
Now that I have that off my chest, I need to go battle my way through the jungle like malls for Kohls is having a shoe sale... hmmmm, that sounds like nature!
Camping is for the birds- literally,
Mags
Saturday, April 25, 2009
A Saturday Meme
1)What is your blogger name? Maggie
2) When is your birthday? Sept 26
3) How long have you been blogging? Since March 2006 but under a different blog title, URL, and moniker
4) Who tagged you? I wasn't tagged, but I'm borrowing this from Red from Ktown!
5 ) Tell me your 5 most favorite body parts: I usually love a man's hands and wrists, his lips for nice kiss, a cute butt is always a plus, and eyes that make contact with mine.
6) What do you wish most for your birthday? Go here!
7) What color are your nails now? Finger and toenails are all just natural right now, but since it's starting to be flip-flop season, my toes will get painted with frequency, usually to match my clothes, my purse or my shoes
8) Any depressing thoughts lately? Money issues. No job. Dumped by Sam... gee what a nice question
9) What's your next 1 month's plan? Find a job
10) At what age did you have your 1st crush? Hmmmm, not sure... I thought boys had cooties for a long time.
11) Did you attend any school reunion after you graduated till now? Nope and I don't plan to either.
12) Have you ever passed gas in public and pretended you didn't smell anything? Sure, haven’t we all? Don’t lie, WE ALL DO IT!
13) Are you a clean freak? I wouldn't say I was a freak, but I like things clean, yes
14) Which era do you wish you were born into? I always fluctuate with this idea- right now I would say I should've been born in the 1950s so I could've been a hippie and a protester.
15) Are you a vegetarian? Not even close.
16) How many pillows do you sleep with at night? 1 feather
17) Are you a light sleeper or an I-don't-care-if-there's-a-bomb-here sleeper? well that depends... of late, I've been a member of the Insomnia Club and not sleeping at all. But when my life is normal, I am usually a pretty heavy sleeper.
18) Do you secretly wear comfortable granny panties when your man is not around? not hardly
19) What is your ultimate dream job? I don't have one any more
20) What is it your hubby does that annoys you the most? I don't have a hubby- and I don't want one, either.
21) What is your dream car? 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500
23) Do you like hairy men? No
24) How about goateed men? I love goatees- they are sexy, they are hot, they are erotic... oh my...
25) Which one would you prefer: 2 hour spa, 2 hour Thai Massage or 2 hour foot massage? Love the massage, but it has to be a gentle massage
26) Have you ever wished you had a different name other than your real name? nope
27) What is the most extreme sport you have ever done? Dating
28) Do you prefer traveling in Europe or Asia? I've never been to Asia (And it looks like my trip to Beijing in Sept. isn't going to happen... :ahem:... moving on) but I've never had a huge desire to go there. I do like what little of Europe I've seen, though, and would love to go back and see much much more.
29) What is your favorite food? A good ribeye or Delmonico steak
30) What is the most embarrassing moment when you were out on a date? I can't of any that I would want to write here...
2) When is your birthday? Sept 26
3) How long have you been blogging? Since March 2006 but under a different blog title, URL, and moniker
4) Who tagged you? I wasn't tagged, but I'm borrowing this from Red from Ktown!
5 ) Tell me your 5 most favorite body parts: I usually love a man's hands and wrists, his lips for nice kiss, a cute butt is always a plus, and eyes that make contact with mine.
6) What do you wish most for your birthday? Go here!
7) What color are your nails now? Finger and toenails are all just natural right now, but since it's starting to be flip-flop season, my toes will get painted with frequency, usually to match my clothes, my purse or my shoes
8) Any depressing thoughts lately? Money issues. No job. Dumped by Sam... gee what a nice question
9) What's your next 1 month's plan? Find a job
10) At what age did you have your 1st crush? Hmmmm, not sure... I thought boys had cooties for a long time.
11) Did you attend any school reunion after you graduated till now? Nope and I don't plan to either.
12) Have you ever passed gas in public and pretended you didn't smell anything? Sure, haven’t we all? Don’t lie, WE ALL DO IT!
13) Are you a clean freak? I wouldn't say I was a freak, but I like things clean, yes
14) Which era do you wish you were born into? I always fluctuate with this idea- right now I would say I should've been born in the 1950s so I could've been a hippie and a protester.
15) Are you a vegetarian? Not even close.
16) How many pillows do you sleep with at night? 1 feather
17) Are you a light sleeper or an I-don't-care-if-there's-a-bomb-here sleeper? well that depends... of late, I've been a member of the Insomnia Club and not sleeping at all. But when my life is normal, I am usually a pretty heavy sleeper.
18) Do you secretly wear comfortable granny panties when your man is not around? not hardly
19) What is your ultimate dream job? I don't have one any more
20) What is it your hubby does that annoys you the most? I don't have a hubby- and I don't want one, either.
21) What is your dream car? 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500
23) Do you like hairy men? No
24) How about goateed men? I love goatees- they are sexy, they are hot, they are erotic... oh my...
25) Which one would you prefer: 2 hour spa, 2 hour Thai Massage or 2 hour foot massage? Love the massage, but it has to be a gentle massage
26) Have you ever wished you had a different name other than your real name? nope
27) What is the most extreme sport you have ever done? Dating
28) Do you prefer traveling in Europe or Asia? I've never been to Asia (And it looks like my trip to Beijing in Sept. isn't going to happen... :ahem:... moving on) but I've never had a huge desire to go there. I do like what little of Europe I've seen, though, and would love to go back and see much much more.
29) What is your favorite food? A good ribeye or Delmonico steak
30) What is the most embarrassing moment when you were out on a date? I can't of any that I would want to write here...
Friday, April 24, 2009
The Drama Queen Network
Mac says if - on TELEVISION- a woman is raped and molested and physically abused then stalked, and is a drunk or one who abuses pills and huddles in a shower crying, then it must be a made for TV movie on Lifetime. And while his example may be a bit to the extreme, I also thinks he has a point.
And for those of you who like Lifetime movies, then that's cool with me- entertainment for everyone, I say- so please, no hate mail about my ANTI Lifetime movie stand- please? So, that being said...
Around our house we have always made fun of the "high drama" and bad acting and "after school special" like quality of the movies on Lifetime. No, not all of them could be described that way, but LOTS of them can... and they are often cheesy, overdone and just plain... well, bad. Bad acting, bad scripts, bad bad bad.
But while subbing on this half day of school, for 2 periods, I learned of a new use for Lifetime Movies.
I was in a health class and the teacher left a movie for me to show. I popped the VHS tape in and bam- it was a Lifetime movie called Mom at Sixteen. Really. A Lifetime movie in a high school health class. As if subbing isn't tough enough, but now she makes me show a Lifetime movie? I got the giggles. There were boys in that class who were not what I would call impressed by this either. So, the kids watched the movie- and had to TAKE NOTES OVER IT! They were studying teen pregnancy/ STDs/ Sex in class and it did suit the purpose, but still... a Lifetime movie? I guess it was no different than when I was in high school and the same teacher showed us After School Specials to prove her points.
So the next class rolls in. It's an all girl's PE class who was having "health" day. And they were studying eating disorders. So in went the VHS tape- and it was another Lifetime movie, only about a teenage girl with bulimia. Oh. My. Goddess. I had another attack of the giggles.
And what was bad about the second movie, the bulimia one, was that the girl with bulimia had a boyfriend. Bulimiagirl's BF kissed her BFF at a party one night and half of the the students in my class were enraged that he cheated on her. The other half thought Bulimiagirl deserved it because she was a bitch to her BF. Oh. My. Goddess. I mean, Bulimiagirl is under huge stress, her hair is falling out, there is an obvious change in her mood and temperament and health and family problems because of her eating disorder but the girls in my class were pissed off over the "love triangle" aspect which lasted for about 3 minutes. Do you think the point was lost on these girls?
I told Mac about it today- and you know what he thought? He said making students watch Lifetime movies in class was a form of corporal punishment.
Cruel. Oh so very cruel.
Save the drama for your mama,
Mags
And for those of you who like Lifetime movies, then that's cool with me- entertainment for everyone, I say- so please, no hate mail about my ANTI Lifetime movie stand- please? So, that being said...
Around our house we have always made fun of the "high drama" and bad acting and "after school special" like quality of the movies on Lifetime. No, not all of them could be described that way, but LOTS of them can... and they are often cheesy, overdone and just plain... well, bad. Bad acting, bad scripts, bad bad bad.
But while subbing on this half day of school, for 2 periods, I learned of a new use for Lifetime Movies.
I was in a health class and the teacher left a movie for me to show. I popped the VHS tape in and bam- it was a Lifetime movie called Mom at Sixteen. Really. A Lifetime movie in a high school health class. As if subbing isn't tough enough, but now she makes me show a Lifetime movie? I got the giggles. There were boys in that class who were not what I would call impressed by this either. So, the kids watched the movie- and had to TAKE NOTES OVER IT! They were studying teen pregnancy/ STDs/ Sex in class and it did suit the purpose, but still... a Lifetime movie? I guess it was no different than when I was in high school and the same teacher showed us After School Specials to prove her points.
So the next class rolls in. It's an all girl's PE class who was having "health" day. And they were studying eating disorders. So in went the VHS tape- and it was another Lifetime movie, only about a teenage girl with bulimia. Oh. My. Goddess. I had another attack of the giggles.
And what was bad about the second movie, the bulimia one, was that the girl with bulimia had a boyfriend. Bulimiagirl's BF kissed her BFF at a party one night and half of the the students in my class were enraged that he cheated on her. The other half thought Bulimiagirl deserved it because she was a bitch to her BF. Oh. My. Goddess. I mean, Bulimiagirl is under huge stress, her hair is falling out, there is an obvious change in her mood and temperament and health and family problems because of her eating disorder but the girls in my class were pissed off over the "love triangle" aspect which lasted for about 3 minutes. Do you think the point was lost on these girls?
I told Mac about it today- and you know what he thought? He said making students watch Lifetime movies in class was a form of corporal punishment.
Cruel. Oh so very cruel.
Save the drama for your mama,
Mags
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
This post has a Seinfeld-esque Quality to it
So... I guess I should write about something other than being dumped by Sam and being heartbroken over being dumped by Sam, right?
I should also write about something other than subbing- which I'm not doing much of- or not being able to find a job- which I haven't been able to do- or the weather- will this fucking rain ever end?-. Shit, I suppose I could make a job for myself and build an ark since it's raining so much and kill 2 birds with one stone. Which is a sorta an inappropriate idiom when talking about an ark since in the story of Noah he brings the animals on by twos- and my luck I would kill two birds with one stone, even though my aim is terrible, and then have like... robins... be extinct, or something and really piss off an non existent god... Hmmmmmm, did I just have an ADOS moment?
I had a few good blogging ideas-- but only after I read stuff that other bloggers wrote and I was like, "Why the fuck didn't I think of writing about that?" And now if I blog like that, they'll read me and think I'm stealing their intellectual property and then sue me, but you can't get blood out of a turnip (I can say that, right? The Bible didn't have the Noah guy doing anything with veggies, did it?) and then my blog will be shut down, which might not be such a bad idea.
I was going to save my explanation of why Sam dumped me for today and do something related to yesterday's infamous date of 4/20... but that would add to my depression- that I was not partaking in such a "holiday."
And if anyone new decided to read my blog of late, they would think it was utter and total ca-ca and they would be right. Shit... maybe blogging is overrated and I've worn out my welcome in the blogging world (I can use that expression because there wasn't anyone around to welcome that Noah guy and his stinky animals when the waters went down so he couldn't wear out a welcome. Which is a good thing because I bet if there HAD been people when he docked, he would've been killed with the stank he would've sailed into port). I should just hang it up.
I used to be a witty and conversational writer, who could turn a phrase and engage my reader in my humorous narratives. And now.. feh. I got nuttin'. Bupcus. Zippola. Nada.
Ack... I thought before I moved here from the Wild West that my Muse left before I did, that bitch, and arrived here in Civilization before me. Come to find out, she didn't get here- she just left. Completely. Hmmm, story of my life, eh? That Muse bitch is probably in Dublin... oh man, I so do NOT want to go there.
Did I mention I haven't been sleeping much of late? And this has noting to do with PMS, either. Damn, I hate the Mean Reds...
Posting about nothing,
Maggie
I should also write about something other than subbing- which I'm not doing much of- or not being able to find a job- which I haven't been able to do- or the weather- will this fucking rain ever end?-. Shit, I suppose I could make a job for myself and build an ark since it's raining so much and kill 2 birds with one stone. Which is a sorta an inappropriate idiom when talking about an ark since in the story of Noah he brings the animals on by twos- and my luck I would kill two birds with one stone, even though my aim is terrible, and then have like... robins... be extinct, or something and really piss off an non existent god... Hmmmmmm, did I just have an ADOS moment?
I had a few good blogging ideas-- but only after I read stuff that other bloggers wrote and I was like, "Why the fuck didn't I think of writing about that?" And now if I blog like that, they'll read me and think I'm stealing their intellectual property and then sue me, but you can't get blood out of a turnip (I can say that, right? The Bible didn't have the Noah guy doing anything with veggies, did it?) and then my blog will be shut down, which might not be such a bad idea.
I was going to save my explanation of why Sam dumped me for today and do something related to yesterday's infamous date of 4/20... but that would add to my depression- that I was not partaking in such a "holiday."
And if anyone new decided to read my blog of late, they would think it was utter and total ca-ca and they would be right. Shit... maybe blogging is overrated and I've worn out my welcome in the blogging world (I can use that expression because there wasn't anyone around to welcome that Noah guy and his stinky animals when the waters went down so he couldn't wear out a welcome. Which is a good thing because I bet if there HAD been people when he docked, he would've been killed with the stank he would've sailed into port). I should just hang it up.
I used to be a witty and conversational writer, who could turn a phrase and engage my reader in my humorous narratives. And now.. feh. I got nuttin'. Bupcus. Zippola. Nada.
Ack... I thought before I moved here from the Wild West that my Muse left before I did, that bitch, and arrived here in Civilization before me. Come to find out, she didn't get here- she just left. Completely. Hmmm, story of my life, eh? That Muse bitch is probably in Dublin... oh man, I so do NOT want to go there.
Did I mention I haven't been sleeping much of late? And this has noting to do with PMS, either. Damn, I hate the Mean Reds...
Posting about nothing,
Maggie
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I want stuff...
If I had a job and I had money, I would be participating in Retail Therapy due to the split with AIISam. Here's just a sampling of some goodies that I would indulge in if I had the pocket money to splurge... Gifts are gladly accepted!
Sex and the City name necklace- only with my name on it... and my name isn't Maggie
Grey's Anatomy Seasons 1-4 on DVD
This is a Donna Sharp bag. The pattern is Mocha Patch and the style is called a Hipster. Me want, want, want!
or
Sex and the City name necklace- only with my name on it... and my name isn't Maggie
Grey's Anatomy Seasons 1-4 on DVD
This is a Donna Sharp bag. The pattern is Mocha Patch and the style is called a Hipster. Me want, want, want!I know some or all of these goodies would make me feel better. *Sigh* I know better than to bother to date and that I should just concentrate on the important things in life like shoes, shopping, the new Donna Sharp bag, sleeping, and avoiding men like the plague. What the hell was I thinking that he would be the one for me, of all people. *Sheesh* shoes, purses and such never give me rejection. Not only did I get dumped, but I can't even afford to stimulate the economy! Life sucks...
Monday, April 20, 2009
Heartbreak isn't just a Hotel
Too much distance and with the question of when we're going to see each other is just hanging there all the time, Sam thought it should just be over now. He said I'm beautiful and wonderful and deserve someone who can give me his time and life, he loves me so much, he's not ready to leave Ireland, he isn't sure having me live there for the summer would make sense since his job got re-organized and he'll only be home something like 11 days in the next 2 months, and I can't travel with him so he would only see me on those 11 days and I would spend the rest of the time in his flat all by myself. There is no one else. His company CEO told him to marry his job or he WOULD be fired. Sam still wants to be friends (editorial comment: nofuckingway). If I could find a job in Dublin, Sam would never have ended it because we would be living in the same city and it would make things easier. He feels like he still had things he needs to do and since his personal time is limited he wants to be able to do what he wants rather than stay at home on the phone with me. Sam said the distance makes us too hard.
Whatever. Fuck it.
blah, blah, blah, blah........
blah, blah, blah, blah........
Down at the end of a lonely street,
Mags
Whatever. Fuck it.
blah, blah, blah, blah........
blah, blah, blah, blah........
Down at the end of a lonely street,
Mags
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I'm a bit Holly Golightly at the moment...
Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?Paul: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul: Sure.
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd...
~Breakfast at Tiffany's
"I vant to be alone." ~Greta Garbo, Grand Hotel
"There must be something between us, even if it's only an ocean."~ Nickie, An Affair to Remember
"If I push too hard it's because I want things to be better, I want us to be better, I want you to be better. ..You'll never find anyone as good for you as I am, to believe in you as much as I do or to love you as much." ~ Katie Morosky, The Way We Were Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
The End
Sam called and he ended our relationship... too much distance and too much stress.
The End,
Mags
The End,
Mags
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Madder than a wet hen
When I was a teenager I was actually a pretty good kid. There was little 'drama' from me as one might expect from a teenage girl. But I had a healthy respect for my parents and I liked my freedom they gave me. I also liked having a phone in my room and a car to drive back and forth to school and work- they giveth and they taketh away. So I didn't sneak out of my house, didn't drink, didn't lie about where I was going, didn't take drugs... I was a boring and just generally a good kid. I tell you this because what follows is out of the ordinary behavior for me...
I was not a morning person and to be honest, I'm still not. If I can wake up naturally, then I'm fine... but when having to wake up to an alarm clock- well, I have never been one to do so gracefully. My mother figured out that I was not the Princess of Happiness in the morning so she never got out of bed until we were gone. And she didn't have to be at work until 8:30 or 9 am so why should she get up and frolic with the Queen of Darkness at 6:30am if she didn't have to? And she didn't have to because my father, on the other hand, had to be at work around the same time my baby brother and I had to be at school, so dad was sort of our "morning parent" if you will.
One morning when I was in high school, a sophomore or a junior, I was feeling goofy in the morning. Who knows why I was in a good mood? And I was feeling ornery and for some reason decided I was going to play a practical joke on my mother. I have no idea what possessed this behavior in me but I... well, I... I took black electrical tape and taped down the ON handle on the sink sprayer. Ummm, so whomever turned on the water faucet next would get a shower. And my brother and father both saw me do this. And they snickered.
So fast forward the rest of the day... and boy oh boy was I in trouble when I got home.
Apparently, my mother sort of... re-arranged her morning routine and for whatever reason there is, she got fully dressed for work and did her hair and makeup before she ever went to the kitchen. I remember thinking when I did it she would only have a wet robe or wet pajamas so it wouldn't be a big deal. But for some reason that was not the case. And she was ready to walk out the door to go to the office, all dressed up, when she turned on the spigot. And got soaked. And not just her clothes, but her hair and her face. to the point where she was late to work because she had to re-do her hair and make up AND change clothes. And was she ever PISSED.
She called my father at work and sputtered and swore and yelled about what her son had done. Dad, I find out later of course, was trying to keep from laughing and told her it wasn't her son, who was the typical jester of the house, who did it. I guess, according to what I learned later, is that mom was about twice as furious as she laid into dad, blaming him. When he finally got a word in edgewise and told her it wasn't him.... there was silent fuming on the other end of the phone. Mom hung up. Dad thought he was going to be short one child.
I have to admit now that I don't remember what punishment I got, if any- probably just yelled at or grounded, but to this day I remember how mom couldn't believe that I was the one who would do such a thing. Everyone else hears this story and howls with laughter- I still do giggle at it. And until her dying day my mother never found "the funny" in this situation.
My dad and brother were always pissed that they didn't think of it first.
Best practical joke I ever played,
Maggie
I was not a morning person and to be honest, I'm still not. If I can wake up naturally, then I'm fine... but when having to wake up to an alarm clock- well, I have never been one to do so gracefully. My mother figured out that I was not the Princess of Happiness in the morning so she never got out of bed until we were gone. And she didn't have to be at work until 8:30 or 9 am so why should she get up and frolic with the Queen of Darkness at 6:30am if she didn't have to? And she didn't have to because my father, on the other hand, had to be at work around the same time my baby brother and I had to be at school, so dad was sort of our "morning parent" if you will.
One morning when I was in high school, a sophomore or a junior, I was feeling goofy in the morning. Who knows why I was in a good mood? And I was feeling ornery and for some reason decided I was going to play a practical joke on my mother. I have no idea what possessed this behavior in me but I... well, I... I took black electrical tape and taped down the ON handle on the sink sprayer. Ummm, so whomever turned on the water faucet next would get a shower. And my brother and father both saw me do this. And they snickered.
So fast forward the rest of the day... and boy oh boy was I in trouble when I got home.
Apparently, my mother sort of... re-arranged her morning routine and for whatever reason there is, she got fully dressed for work and did her hair and makeup before she ever went to the kitchen. I remember thinking when I did it she would only have a wet robe or wet pajamas so it wouldn't be a big deal. But for some reason that was not the case. And she was ready to walk out the door to go to the office, all dressed up, when she turned on the spigot. And got soaked. And not just her clothes, but her hair and her face. to the point where she was late to work because she had to re-do her hair and make up AND change clothes. And was she ever PISSED.
She called my father at work and sputtered and swore and yelled about what her son had done. Dad, I find out later of course, was trying to keep from laughing and told her it wasn't her son, who was the typical jester of the house, who did it. I guess, according to what I learned later, is that mom was about twice as furious as she laid into dad, blaming him. When he finally got a word in edgewise and told her it wasn't him.... there was silent fuming on the other end of the phone. Mom hung up. Dad thought he was going to be short one child.
I have to admit now that I don't remember what punishment I got, if any- probably just yelled at or grounded, but to this day I remember how mom couldn't believe that I was the one who would do such a thing. Everyone else hears this story and howls with laughter- I still do giggle at it. And until her dying day my mother never found "the funny" in this situation.
My dad and brother were always pissed that they didn't think of it first.
Best practical joke I ever played,
Maggie
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Brief comment on church
I do not answer the door during the day because it never fails to be Jehovah Witnesses, selling their god door to door and that just pisses me off. If I wanted to worship that way, wouldn't I just show up at the church?
Would they go away if I told them I was an atheist or screamed "OOOOOOO, now I have someone for my sacrificial ritual!"
I wish they would just stay the hell off my doorstep AND it also irritates me that they leave literature... can't they see the sign that says clearly "No solicitors."
Hell, the banging on the door came at just the right time because I had nothing to blog about... and maybe I would've been better off to just skip today altogether.
Would they go away if I told them I was an atheist or screamed "OOOOOOO, now I have someone for my sacrificial ritual!"
I wish they would just stay the hell off my doorstep AND it also irritates me that they leave literature... can't they see the sign that says clearly "No solicitors."
Hell, the banging on the door came at just the right time because I had nothing to blog about... and maybe I would've been better off to just skip today altogether.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Thoughts about jobs and careers
I need a job. Substitute teaching just isn't cutting it- not consistent enough AND summer is coming soon, so that small pot of dollars will be drying up too. I applied to work as the counter girl at the local Tastee freeze with a manager who is still in high school- she's going to decide to hire me or not... I'm not a job snob and I'm not too proud, but really? The Tastee Freeze?!?
I really really had a few things I didn't want to do: I don't want to work with kids of any age, I don't want to work with old people, I don't want to sell stuff, I don't want to work with animals. I'm not sure I want to work with people of any kind. I don't want to be in charge and I don't want to be a Wal-Mart greeter. I don't want to work with sick people. I don't want to work for a not-for-profit and earn my own salary. I don't want to work with poor people. I don't want to life heavy stuff, either. In the 1980s movie Say Anything I am totally in touch with what Lloyd Dobbler told Diane Court's dad: "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."
I also don't have a network. I don't seem to know people who are in the know. I don't know those who are influential. I also don't know anyone who can or will call someone and say, "I'm going to send you my friend Maggie's resume and she is great. I hope you could interview her if you have an opening in your company- she would be a real asset." I just don't KNOW these kinds of people. Okay, wait- I know 2 of these kinds of people. One of them is a past Sam who would let me be is mistress, but I'm not sure what sort of salary comes with that- but I am going to call him! the other is a Former Sam from Alaska- I did talk to him, but we'll get to that later.
Daddy-O and I were brainstorming possible jobs for me tonight:
The other problem with My Former Sam of Alaska is that while he and I have worked through our differences, his friends... might not have decided to like me just because he does. He said I might have to change my name and lie about where I graduated from college. And claim a different state of residence. And don't list that I lived and taught in the Wild West. Then they might not connect the dots between him and me and might actually give me a job... Hmmmmm, it's sort of sad that he's my "big" connection. Oh dear....
I make two job connections to John Cusak movies so maybe there's a future there for me...? So, today if I don't get called to sub and if Tastee Freeze doesn't come through, then I guess I'll apply to wait tables at the local dinette or at the gas station where I could be a Pump Girl.
You want fries with that?,
Maggie
I really really had a few things I didn't want to do: I don't want to work with kids of any age, I don't want to work with old people, I don't want to sell stuff, I don't want to work with animals. I'm not sure I want to work with people of any kind. I don't want to be in charge and I don't want to be a Wal-Mart greeter. I don't want to work with sick people. I don't want to work for a not-for-profit and earn my own salary. I don't want to work with poor people. I don't want to life heavy stuff, either. In the 1980s movie Say Anything I am totally in touch with what Lloyd Dobbler told Diane Court's dad: "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."
I also don't have a network. I don't seem to know people who are in the know. I don't know those who are influential. I also don't know anyone who can or will call someone and say, "I'm going to send you my friend Maggie's resume and she is great. I hope you could interview her if you have an opening in your company- she would be a real asset." I just don't KNOW these kinds of people. Okay, wait- I know 2 of these kinds of people. One of them is a past Sam who would let me be is mistress, but I'm not sure what sort of salary comes with that- but I am going to call him! the other is a Former Sam from Alaska- I did talk to him, but we'll get to that later.
Daddy-O and I were brainstorming possible jobs for me tonight:
- Apprehension Agent. I could go after bail jumpers just like Stephanie Plum. But I'm afraid of getting hit or shot or having someone spit bodily fluids at me. And I don't like guns. If I got a gun, I could be so pissed because I would end up shooting a hole in my purse. Can't you just hear that conversation as I'm trying to bring down the bad guy? "OMG, you bastard," I would say to the perpetrator. "I just shot a hole in my best Prado bag- and do you know how much that genuine imitation cost me?" So maybe trying to be the next Dog the Bounty Hunter isn't the best job for me. And I bet that no one is going to give me my own personal Ranger or a Joe Morelli... if they did, I would totally sign up and be the cutest agent... ever!
- FBI Agent. Several problems with this because I just can't run at all so that could be a problem; isn't there some sort of physical training requirement? And I don't think Kevlar comes in Plus Sizes. Furthermore, I think that the simple black windbreaker with the letters FBI on the back is just so plain, so ordinary, so nondescript. Now, if they would let me do some redesigning and I could have the black windbreaker- because black is so flattering and slimming- but I want the FBI to be in pink satin with glitter or sparkly outlining.
- Forest Ranger. This might not be the best job for me because I H*A*T*E nature. And I look terrible in green; green makes me look all washed out and jaundice. I also would get lost in the woods because I have no sense of direction. I couldn't point out Poison Ivy unless there was a HUGE sign that said "POISON IVY GROWING HERE- STAY OUT". I would leave a trail of bread crumbs but my luck is that those little bastards Hansel and Gretel would eat 'em. Though, it would give me an excuse to use my flare gun. Forest Rangers get flare guns, right?
The other problem with My Former Sam of Alaska is that while he and I have worked through our differences, his friends... might not have decided to like me just because he does. He said I might have to change my name and lie about where I graduated from college. And claim a different state of residence. And don't list that I lived and taught in the Wild West. Then they might not connect the dots between him and me and might actually give me a job... Hmmmmm, it's sort of sad that he's my "big" connection. Oh dear....
I make two job connections to John Cusak movies so maybe there's a future there for me...? So, today if I don't get called to sub and if Tastee Freeze doesn't come through, then I guess I'll apply to wait tables at the local dinette or at the gas station where I could be a Pump Girl.
You want fries with that?,
Maggie
Monday, April 13, 2009
Just another Manic Monday
It's raining and I feel like whining... it's dark and cold and blustery. I don't feel well- I have a wracking cough and wheeze as I breathe. I don't feel "sick" but I don't feel "good". I wasn't called to substitute teach today. I haven't heard from Sam, which is totally silly because of his travel the last 2 days and I knew I probably would NOT hear from him but it still sucks. I just wanted one of those small "love you" emails. Drat! I'm PANICKING about not having a job so I'll be venturing out in the cold and wet, feeling sick, and apply for part time waitress jobs, and counter help at local shops, so I have income- thank the goddess for Daddy-O or I would be homeless, and living in a cardboard box. Mac didn't feel well yesterday and I feel bad about that because no one wants to have a sick child, even when that child is 16 years old. (He did say his father would be sending him to the doctor today since his throat and ear both hurt...)
Usually I like the rain, usually I like sound and the darkness in the day time... well, not today for it's so dreary and sad. And I just feel so... ick. I would much rather layabout and skulk about but... alas, no.
So, I'm off to shower and then to apply for jobs that would at least give me steady spending money and to pay some bills. Can I network through my blog? Email me if you have job connections, please! I'm willing to move yet again to find work...
I realize it could be worse- I truly realize that, I do- but today it's my turn to be just a bit whiny and feel sorry for myself and just hate it.
Pathetically yours,
Mags
Usually I like the rain, usually I like sound and the darkness in the day time... well, not today for it's so dreary and sad. And I just feel so... ick. I would much rather layabout and skulk about but... alas, no.
So, I'm off to shower and then to apply for jobs that would at least give me steady spending money and to pay some bills. Can I network through my blog? Email me if you have job connections, please! I'm willing to move yet again to find work...
I realize it could be worse- I truly realize that, I do- but today it's my turn to be just a bit whiny and feel sorry for myself and just hate it.
Pathetically yours,
Mags
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Happy Easter meme
What are your Easter traditions?
Our family doesn't really have any.
Do you hard boil and decorate eggs?
Not really because Mac is too old and The Divine Ms K is too young
How do you decorate your home for Easter?
I don’t.
Do you make/buy special outfits for yourself and your kids on Easter?
Not anymore, though I had a beautiful skirt made for my trip to Dublin and didn't get to wear it there so I'm going to wear it on Easter. We did always get new things when we were younger, and when Mac was smaller and went to church I would get something new for him, but not really any longer.
What is your favorite Easter dish?
I don't have one
When did you learn the truth about the Easter Bunny?
I don't really remember.
Do you spend Easter at home, on vacation, or with family?
With family
First one up on Easter morning?
Probably Daddy-O
Go to mass or church?
Church
What are your favorite Easter hymns and/or choir arrangements?
I don't really have one
How many Easter egg hunts does your family usually participate in?
None anymore since Mac is 16 yrs old (tomorrow!) and my niece is still too young- next year there will be at least 3 she'll go to!
Do you make deviled eggs out of leftover Easter eggs?
Nope
Are you tired of eggs by the end of the Easter Season?
Nope
Are Peeps good or gross?
I'm not really a big fan but I wouldn't go so far as to say gross... but I do love the pink ones!
What company makes the best chocolate for Easter time?
Cadbury has the BEST Easter chocolate!
Lots of candy or not?
This year I didn't do much Easter candy at all- I bought the random Cadbury egg and got Mac some chocolates, but otherwise, not so much...
What is your favorite?
Reese’s peanut butter eggs and the circus peanut-like chicks and bunnies
Do you find plastic Easter grass hidden in places for months after Easter is over?
Nope
What’s your favorite color for fake grass?
Big surprise- P*I*N*K!
Thanks Tense Teacher for another great meme!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Mac and the Bodacious Ta-Tas
As I have mentioned before, Mac is going to be 16 years old this coming Sunday, Easter. Mac and I are also pretty close and he tells me shit mothers do not want to know, nor should they know.
Take the other day for instance. We had 20 minute ride to the movie theater and he decided to take this quality time while I was trapped in the car with him to tell me about his sex life. Yeah- there is so very much wrong with that statement I barely know where to begin. And the only way I could escape this was to wreck the car or stab myself in the ear with the nearest sharp object- sunglasses.
Mac has girlfriend, who I now like to think of as "That Slut who's corrupting my baby!" He prefers I not refer to her as that. (Yeah so there is no difference in me saying that and Sam's Mother calling me a "shiksa" which I'm not so fond of) So after the cast party, he and The Slut WCMB went parking in HER car in a CHURCH parking lot. In the dark. At midnight.
I'll leave out some of the details, but the general gist that ya'll need to know is that 1)he didn't lose his virginity and 2) he was up close and personal with his first pair of boobs. Naked boobs, live and in person for him to touch- eeewwwwww!!!!
And Mac had decided he's a boob man. If a woman has a nice rack he could care less about legs, ass, brain, head, arms... He went on and on about how much he LOVES breasts and they are the greatest thing in the world. He wants to be in charge of bra models. He wants to work at Victoria Secret in the mall. He now is obsessed with knockers.
The day after his "close encounter in Chestville" with The Slut WCMB all he could think about were boobs. He said every girl he saw all day long at school had HUGE melons spilling out of low cut tops- and he was liberal with his praise in a school administration that lacked in enforcing the dress code. He said there were boobs EVERY-where. And he could no longer stand it when his platonic friend Em, who apparently had the best looking pair he's seen clothed, jumped up and down in front of him out of joy over what he had no idea because all he could see were large bouncing breasts. He has dubbed this the year of: TITTIE-PALOOZA 2009!!!!
Oh. My. Gawd.
Mags
Take the other day for instance. We had 20 minute ride to the movie theater and he decided to take this quality time while I was trapped in the car with him to tell me about his sex life. Yeah- there is so very much wrong with that statement I barely know where to begin. And the only way I could escape this was to wreck the car or stab myself in the ear with the nearest sharp object- sunglasses.
Mac has girlfriend, who I now like to think of as "That Slut who's corrupting my baby!" He prefers I not refer to her as that. (Yeah so there is no difference in me saying that and Sam's Mother calling me a "shiksa" which I'm not so fond of) So after the cast party, he and The Slut WCMB went parking in HER car in a CHURCH parking lot. In the dark. At midnight.
I'll leave out some of the details, but the general gist that ya'll need to know is that 1)he didn't lose his virginity and 2) he was up close and personal with his first pair of boobs. Naked boobs, live and in person for him to touch- eeewwwwww!!!!
And Mac had decided he's a boob man. If a woman has a nice rack he could care less about legs, ass, brain, head, arms... He went on and on about how much he LOVES breasts and they are the greatest thing in the world. He wants to be in charge of bra models. He wants to work at Victoria Secret in the mall. He now is obsessed with knockers.
The day after his "close encounter in Chestville" with The Slut WCMB all he could think about were boobs. He said every girl he saw all day long at school had HUGE melons spilling out of low cut tops- and he was liberal with his praise in a school administration that lacked in enforcing the dress code. He said there were boobs EVERY-where. And he could no longer stand it when his platonic friend Em, who apparently had the best looking pair he's seen clothed, jumped up and down in front of him out of joy over what he had no idea because all he could see were large bouncing breasts. He has dubbed this the year of: TITTIE-PALOOZA 2009!!!!
Oh. My. Gawd.
Mags
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Whazup with Sam and me
We're okay. The last few weeks since I got home from Dublin, things have been tense between us; we were off kilter and outta whack. We couldn't seem to find our groove; we hardly talked.
So being an emotional female I panicked. If I was thinking with my heart I figured he was being distant and giving me the brush off. Something wasn't as good for him as it was me and he didn't want to hurt my feelings so he didn't call, was short tempered, angry and was smarmy.
Now, if I was thinking with my brain I would realize that since I left he had the flu which irritated his asthma. He was also under tremendous work strain because he was told they were going to probably cut his job before the beginning of April. So he went to work daily with the flu and it turned into pneumonia. Then his CEO in San Fran flew in and while he didn't lose his job or have to take a pay cut, he did get demoted and a whole bunch of other folk were laid off. So now instead of being a VP of International Sales he's a trainer. And then he had to learn all the software had had to train people on and then create 10 hour workshops which last three days on material he's never looked at, let alone used. And then he had to go to the Netherlands for his first training. Then he had to come back to Dublin and do another training over more material he had never seen before- same time frame. ALL of this happened between when I left and now.
So I would push about when I would get to see him, he would be grumpy and nasty because he didn't know when. I would push and he would pull. When nothing was said about the next visit and he was in a bad mood he would take his work shit and his lack of good health shit out on me and that caused a mild unpleasantness for all parties.
Last night when he called he said he was thinking about telling me he didn't need more stress and as much as he loved me and hated his job he thought we should end this now because it was too stressful. Then he said he thought that would be stupid because we had the potential for something amazing and he spilled us guts about everything- his baggage of his ex wife, comments I made that would cause him stress, his family, religion,. work... you name it and he covered it all. he also didn't place blame fully on me- he outlined his own "issues" and explained he knew what his hot buttons were and that those things weren't me. Then he wanted me to talk and we did.
The bottom line: Communication scored BIG. We basically plowed through this together and talked. It was amazing. And enlightening. For example, it drove me nuts that he never said he missed me, so I just thought he didn't miss me. I told him this. Well, it seems when he was married and traveled and told his ex wife he missed her (back when she was a wife) she would reiterrate with screaming at him to come home, find another job without travel, etc... so he just didn't want to say it. I told him I would never do that, and that if he told me he missed me I at least knew he was thinking of me, or that he MISSED me. Point solved.
We talked and it was good. We sort of made a deal. First we are not going to hole up emotions like that which cause us to be anxious and caustic. I am not going to say one word about visiting him again over the next 2 weeks because with his newly re-arranged job he doesn't know when it will work but he's trying to figure it out- he WANTS me there now, but it doesn't work. He is going to be more free with his emotions and realize I won't bite his head off like his ex did.
And then to prove to me that he did miss me, he thought of me often throughout the day, that he didn't really want to end this at all, that he loves me more than he thought possible, that he was really sorry for hurting me... he sang to me and played the guitar. He learned a song I like and that he thought would be apropos: "Baby you can sleep while I drive."
I love this guy.
Maggie
So being an emotional female I panicked. If I was thinking with my heart I figured he was being distant and giving me the brush off. Something wasn't as good for him as it was me and he didn't want to hurt my feelings so he didn't call, was short tempered, angry and was smarmy.
Now, if I was thinking with my brain I would realize that since I left he had the flu which irritated his asthma. He was also under tremendous work strain because he was told they were going to probably cut his job before the beginning of April. So he went to work daily with the flu and it turned into pneumonia. Then his CEO in San Fran flew in and while he didn't lose his job or have to take a pay cut, he did get demoted and a whole bunch of other folk were laid off. So now instead of being a VP of International Sales he's a trainer. And then he had to learn all the software had had to train people on and then create 10 hour workshops which last three days on material he's never looked at, let alone used. And then he had to go to the Netherlands for his first training. Then he had to come back to Dublin and do another training over more material he had never seen before- same time frame. ALL of this happened between when I left and now.
So I would push about when I would get to see him, he would be grumpy and nasty because he didn't know when. I would push and he would pull. When nothing was said about the next visit and he was in a bad mood he would take his work shit and his lack of good health shit out on me and that caused a mild unpleasantness for all parties.
Last night when he called he said he was thinking about telling me he didn't need more stress and as much as he loved me and hated his job he thought we should end this now because it was too stressful. Then he said he thought that would be stupid because we had the potential for something amazing and he spilled us guts about everything- his baggage of his ex wife, comments I made that would cause him stress, his family, religion,. work... you name it and he covered it all. he also didn't place blame fully on me- he outlined his own "issues" and explained he knew what his hot buttons were and that those things weren't me. Then he wanted me to talk and we did.
The bottom line: Communication scored BIG. We basically plowed through this together and talked. It was amazing. And enlightening. For example, it drove me nuts that he never said he missed me, so I just thought he didn't miss me. I told him this. Well, it seems when he was married and traveled and told his ex wife he missed her (back when she was a wife) she would reiterrate with screaming at him to come home, find another job without travel, etc... so he just didn't want to say it. I told him I would never do that, and that if he told me he missed me I at least knew he was thinking of me, or that he MISSED me. Point solved.
We talked and it was good. We sort of made a deal. First we are not going to hole up emotions like that which cause us to be anxious and caustic. I am not going to say one word about visiting him again over the next 2 weeks because with his newly re-arranged job he doesn't know when it will work but he's trying to figure it out- he WANTS me there now, but it doesn't work. He is going to be more free with his emotions and realize I won't bite his head off like his ex did.
And then to prove to me that he did miss me, he thought of me often throughout the day, that he didn't really want to end this at all, that he loves me more than he thought possible, that he was really sorry for hurting me... he sang to me and played the guitar. He learned a song I like and that he thought would be apropos: "Baby you can sleep while I drive."
I love this guy.
Maggie
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Why Mac is the way he is...
For some reason or another, this entirely true story I am about to regale ya'll with needs to be told with a Southern influence. So read it out loud in your best southern accent. I'm not sure why other than the fact I'm mentioning Mac's daddy, aka Sperm Donor, and he's just a dumb, fat, ol' Redneck not worth the air he breaths or the skin that covers his spreading hide. And I'm just adorin' the parenthesis today...
Mac is an only child. Get over it. I'm 37 and have been single and divorced for 13 years. He's gonna be 16 years old on Easter Sunday (I loved telling him he was delivered by an Easter Bunny outta an egg... yeah- that logic fails me as well) My uterus has cobwebs on it. He's an only child and unless some Biblical-like miracle happens like it did with Abe and Sarah of Holy Bible Fame, I will not begatting any more yung'uns. (Oh dear Goddess of all that is baby do NOT make me eat them words). That being said, because Mac is an only child, we are on a different wave length than other moms and kids, I think, and we communicate in altogether a different fashion than kids whose parents are former YUPPIES and have to SURVIVE in a NUCLEAR family. Either that or I've given up...
Take today, for example. Mac called me and wanted to know if I would please come and get him from his daddy's house because they were having macaroni and cheese and smoky links for dinner and he hates it today. This was at 3 pm in the afternoon. Now I let the "hatin' it today" thing just slide because I have learned in 16 years of trying to force veggies and healthy shit down his throat that I might as well give up and let him turn into an advertisement for Super Size Me because if he don't want to eat it, he ain't gonna! My comment to him instead was the ever high road about his Sperm Donor: "your daddy and stepmonster are eating dinner at 3pm in the afternoon?" (Hiz daddy is 9 years older than me and so close to bein' in a retirement village with a walker and a nurse and all that good stuff so I thought maybe they wuz practicing up for that dear day when he goes to Florida and never darkens the north again until it his time comes to return to his Redeemer since he's found G-O-D since we've divorced... via a plastic body bag, of course) Mac's response to them eatin' dinner in the middle of the afternoon: "They're fucking retarded."
Now as a good PC parent I shouldn't laugh there and I should well- okay, there are all sorts of things wrong with that and what I should do, but I did tell him to not say "retarded" and that I would call him back in an hour since I was driving on the interstate and since I was in the Midwest and it's near racing time, people around these parts were practicing for qualifyin' for a pole position at the Brickyard or the Indy 500 so I needed to stop talkin' on the Crackberry and actually focus on drivin' so I didn't get myself and Daddy-O killed. Daddy-O was riding shot gun.
So, I get home and I try to call Mac- I call his cell phone because I hate calling the house because I so don't like talking to the bitch Stepmonster who mumbles at me, or his Sperm Donor daddy who grunts when I call. And yes, Mac has a cell phone- some fancy pants fandagled thing like a Stormyitouchinstinctberry. Of course he doesn't answer because he's prolly planning a hook up with his homefrenchfrygirlfriend with beneies- that I will explain another day.
Shortly after I leave a message, Mac texts me back and what follows is our exact exchange, including the words and symbols:
Mac: sorry i didn't hear it ring.
me: no worries
Mac: whatzup?
me: Not much. What are you doing?
Mac: sittin here
me: Me too. Sam was supposed *call me 30 min ago so we could "talk" ie: break up but he's yet to call. Wish you had a job so u could take me 2 dinner.
Mac: I wish I had something good to eat
me: me too
Mac: you suck
*end of transmission- because what could I honestly say after that show of emotion?*
See, we can get away with talking like this because he's an only child. I don't have to worry about setting a good example for other brats. And you know what? I had one chance to get it right and I obviously blew that opportunity (I screw up my kid but I took the opportunity to wear parachute pants in the 80s.... priorities.... dang!) so we just talk like that. And it doesn't even bother me. Other than the fact that I do wish he had a job so he could take me out to eat since I am unemployed. And hungry.
Hey, at least I am giving the boy PLENTY of stuff to talk about when he decides to go for therapy.
Mamma Mia,
Mags
* Since my shitty Crackberry only gives me 160 characters in a text window, I have to resort to writing in "text" language which I despise with all that his Holy! I swear on Prada that I would never do it- and look at me....
Mac is an only child. Get over it. I'm 37 and have been single and divorced for 13 years. He's gonna be 16 years old on Easter Sunday (I loved telling him he was delivered by an Easter Bunny outta an egg... yeah- that logic fails me as well) My uterus has cobwebs on it. He's an only child and unless some Biblical-like miracle happens like it did with Abe and Sarah of Holy Bible Fame, I will not begatting any more yung'uns. (Oh dear Goddess of all that is baby do NOT make me eat them words). That being said, because Mac is an only child, we are on a different wave length than other moms and kids, I think, and we communicate in altogether a different fashion than kids whose parents are former YUPPIES and have to SURVIVE in a NUCLEAR family. Either that or I've given up...
Take today, for example. Mac called me and wanted to know if I would please come and get him from his daddy's house because they were having macaroni and cheese and smoky links for dinner and he hates it today. This was at 3 pm in the afternoon. Now I let the "hatin' it today" thing just slide because I have learned in 16 years of trying to force veggies and healthy shit down his throat that I might as well give up and let him turn into an advertisement for Super Size Me because if he don't want to eat it, he ain't gonna! My comment to him instead was the ever high road about his Sperm Donor: "your daddy and stepmonster are eating dinner at 3pm in the afternoon?" (Hiz daddy is 9 years older than me and so close to bein' in a retirement village with a walker and a nurse and all that good stuff so I thought maybe they wuz practicing up for that dear day when he goes to Florida and never darkens the north again until it his time comes to return to his Redeemer since he's found G-O-D since we've divorced... via a plastic body bag, of course) Mac's response to them eatin' dinner in the middle of the afternoon: "They're fucking retarded."
Now as a good PC parent I shouldn't laugh there and I should well- okay, there are all sorts of things wrong with that and what I should do, but I did tell him to not say "retarded" and that I would call him back in an hour since I was driving on the interstate and since I was in the Midwest and it's near racing time, people around these parts were practicing for qualifyin' for a pole position at the Brickyard or the Indy 500 so I needed to stop talkin' on the Crackberry and actually focus on drivin' so I didn't get myself and Daddy-O killed. Daddy-O was riding shot gun.
So, I get home and I try to call Mac- I call his cell phone because I hate calling the house because I so don't like talking to the bitch Stepmonster who mumbles at me, or his Sperm Donor daddy who grunts when I call. And yes, Mac has a cell phone- some fancy pants fandagled thing like a Stormyitouchinstinctberry. Of course he doesn't answer because he's prolly planning a hook up with his homefrenchfrygirlfriend with beneies- that I will explain another day.
Shortly after I leave a message, Mac texts me back and what follows is our exact exchange, including the words and symbols:
Mac: sorry i didn't hear it ring.
me: no worries
Mac: whatzup?
me: Not much. What are you doing?
Mac: sittin here
me: Me too. Sam was supposed *call me 30 min ago so we could "talk" ie: break up but he's yet to call. Wish you had a job so u could take me 2 dinner.
Mac: I wish I had something good to eat
me: me too
Mac: you suck
*end of transmission- because what could I honestly say after that show of emotion?*
See, we can get away with talking like this because he's an only child. I don't have to worry about setting a good example for other brats. And you know what? I had one chance to get it right and I obviously blew that opportunity (I screw up my kid but I took the opportunity to wear parachute pants in the 80s.... priorities.... dang!) so we just talk like that. And it doesn't even bother me. Other than the fact that I do wish he had a job so he could take me out to eat since I am unemployed. And hungry.
Hey, at least I am giving the boy PLENTY of stuff to talk about when he decides to go for therapy.
Mamma Mia,
Mags
* Since my shitty Crackberry only gives me 160 characters in a text window, I have to resort to writing in "text" language which I despise with all that his Holy! I swear on Prada that I would never do it- and look at me....
Monday, April 6, 2009
Maggie-ology
1 What is your salad dressing of choice?
French or Italian
2 What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?
Casa's
3 What food could you eat for 2 weeks straight and not get sick of it?
Pasta variations
4 What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Extra cheese and mushrooms
5 What do you like to put on your toast?
butter
6 How many televisions are in your house?
2
7 What color cell phone do you have?
PINK of course
8 Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Right
9 Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
baby
10 What is the last heavy item you lifted?
box of books
11 Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
Not that I can remember.
12 If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
NO
13 Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
Nope
14 How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
About 2 dozen give or take a few
15 What’s your goal for the year?
Find a job
16 Last person you talked to?
Sam (on the phone) and Daddy-O (in person)
17 Last person you hugged?
The Divine Ms. K18 Favorite Season?
none
19 Favorite Holiday?
Christmas
20 Favorite day of the week?
Saturday
21 Favorite Month?
December
22 First place you went this morning?
I haven't even gotten out of bed but when I'm done with this I'm headed to the bathroom
23 What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
Mac and I saw Adventureland yesterday
24 Do you smile often?
Yes
25 Do you always answer your phone?
Almost always.
26 It’s four in the morning and you get a text message, who is it?
wrong number
27 If you could change your eye color what would it be?
Green
28 What flavor drink do you get at Sonic?
Cherry lime-ade
29 Have you ever had a pet fish?
Yes... and Mac had some and he named the goldfish Bill and Chelsea and the "sucker" fish Hillary and she killed the other two...
30 Favorite Christmas song?
“Santa baby" or "All I want for Christmas is you" or "O holy night"
31 What’s on your wish list for your birthday?
clothes, a trip to see Sam
32 Can you do push ups?
no
33 Can you do a chin up?
Highly doubtful
34 Does the future make you more nervous or excited?
Mostly excited
35 Do you have any saved texts?
yeah, a few
36 Ever been in a car wreck?
yes
37 Do you have an accent?
I guess- people who lived in the Wild West said I did, and when I talk to Sam, and remember he is American from NY State, he also says I do
38 What is the last song to make you cry?
“Long Way Home" by BNL
39 Plans tonight?
no
40 Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom?
yes... pretty close to that right now actually
41 Name 3 things you bought yesterday.
A soda, a bag of popcorn and 2 movie tickets
42 Have you ever been given roses?
Many times
43 Current hate right now?
rain
44 Met someone who changed your life?
Yes
45 How did you bring in the New Year?
Sleeping, I think
46 What song represents you?
I can't think of one right now
47 What were you doing at 12 AM last night?
Sleeping
48 What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?
Wonder what email I have
Thanks Tense Teacher for letting me steal another meme!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
What's love got to do with it?
I read in a book or saw in a movie recently, about the idea or concept of the balance of love. I've been Googling it and trying to find the book or film to no avail (because I can't get the exact movie quote and am not sure of the medium) but I have run across some web sites that deal with the imbalance of love. And now no matter what I wrote about it in this post, it seems as if I have stolen the words of another and I don't mean to.... But accidental plagiarism aside... If anyone knows the book or movie I'm talking about, please please tell me because it's making my brain hurt!
In this movie or book the idea was that in every relationship one person loves the other person more than they are loved. And breakups can happen because of two ideas: whoever loves the other person less ends up being the person to causes the break up.
OR
The person who loved the most tries to make themselves the person loved least and then does the leaving so they don't end up getting hurt
I remember the first time I heard these ideas and I thought they were shit. Then I mulled it over and I think... well... I think it's true- both sides.
So then I'm looking at myself in my relationship with Sam and it makes me think thoughts I don't want to think.
And leads me to think stupid thoughts and ask stupid questions: is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all? And while pondering all these philosophical matters of the heart, I am also a huge firm believer that there isn't one perfect person for everyone AND that not all people were meant to be paired up, there is NOT someone for everyone. Some of us are just meant to be alone, and I think the sooner we all come to realize that, and figure out if we are one of the "loner" people, then pondering matters of the heart don't really matter.
Loner or lover,
Maggie
In this movie or book the idea was that in every relationship one person loves the other person more than they are loved. And breakups can happen because of two ideas: whoever loves the other person less ends up being the person to causes the break up.
OR
The person who loved the most tries to make themselves the person loved least and then does the leaving so they don't end up getting hurt
I remember the first time I heard these ideas and I thought they were shit. Then I mulled it over and I think... well... I think it's true- both sides.
So then I'm looking at myself in my relationship with Sam and it makes me think thoughts I don't want to think.
And leads me to think stupid thoughts and ask stupid questions: is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all? And while pondering all these philosophical matters of the heart, I am also a huge firm believer that there isn't one perfect person for everyone AND that not all people were meant to be paired up, there is NOT someone for everyone. Some of us are just meant to be alone, and I think the sooner we all come to realize that, and figure out if we are one of the "loner" people, then pondering matters of the heart don't really matter.
Loner or lover,
Maggie
Saturday, April 4, 2009
I forgot to tell you this!
Yesterday when I was subbing, you need to keep several things in mind, before I give you the IMPORTANT information. Yesterday there were 8 subs in the middle school and I was one of them. It was a very important Friday, the Friday before Spring Break. In a middle school. In a middle school where the administration doesn't believe in having an organized fun day, a field day, watching movies or playing games- it was to be academics as usual.
Yes we were supposed to pretend it was not going to be INSANE on the FRIDAY before SPRING BREAK in a MIDDLE SCHOOL with EIGHT SUBSTITUTE TEACHERS filling in. Oh yeah- totally a normal day-- yeah, right and pigs fly!
So on this normal Fridaybeforespringbreakinamiddleschoolwith8subs (where we will teach and have no fun!) the administration for reasons only known to them scheduled a tornado drill. In addition to all the other chaos of the day that I have mentioned, we had to have a tornado drill, which involves herding like cattle your upstairs students downstairs and to their assigned location, which is oh so easy to KNOW when you're a sub- NOT!!
Also on this Fridaybeforespringbreakinamiddleschoolwith8subs (where we will teach and have no fun!) we had a FIRE DRILL during 7th period. This involves herding kids like cattle from the upstairs of my room to the outside courtyard, in the RAIN, through the MUD, to stand shivering in the RAIN and MUD while waiting to be let in. DURING THE LAST PERIOD OF THE DAY!?! Are they mad? Fucking nuts? Insane? Just plain crazy? I hadn't even gotten all the way through attendance yet so I had no idea who my class even was, let alone if they all made it out of the building and were standing in huddled masses together. During the last period of the day! Squirrelly doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm not sure I can go there.
Oh and did I also mention that on this Fridaybeforespringbreakinamiddleschoolwith8sub (where we will teach and have no fun!) we had 2 periods where the 8th graders were going on a FIELD TRIP!!! On a school bus. To see a guy dressed up like Abe Lincoln give a talk? (The guy was good, but it was over the heads of my 8th graders that I was in charge of). As if subbing in a classroom with doors and walls isn't hard enough, I had to take my 4th hour kids and get them on the SAME bus, do a head count, and then make sure they all went in,sat, behaved, and made it back to the school in one piece.
All on the Friday before Spring Break in a middle school with 8 subs....
Working in a comedy of errors,
Maggie
Yes we were supposed to pretend it was not going to be INSANE on the FRIDAY before SPRING BREAK in a MIDDLE SCHOOL with EIGHT SUBSTITUTE TEACHERS filling in. Oh yeah- totally a normal day-- yeah, right and pigs fly!
So on this normal Fridaybeforespringbreakinamiddleschoolwith8subs (where we will teach and have no fun!) the administration for reasons only known to them scheduled a tornado drill. In addition to all the other chaos of the day that I have mentioned, we had to have a tornado drill, which involves herding like cattle your upstairs students downstairs and to their assigned location, which is oh so easy to KNOW when you're a sub- NOT!!
Also on this Fridaybeforespringbreakinamiddleschoolwith8subs (where we will teach and have no fun!) we had a FIRE DRILL during 7th period. This involves herding kids like cattle from the upstairs of my room to the outside courtyard, in the RAIN, through the MUD, to stand shivering in the RAIN and MUD while waiting to be let in. DURING THE LAST PERIOD OF THE DAY!?! Are they mad? Fucking nuts? Insane? Just plain crazy? I hadn't even gotten all the way through attendance yet so I had no idea who my class even was, let alone if they all made it out of the building and were standing in huddled masses together. During the last period of the day! Squirrelly doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm not sure I can go there.
Oh and did I also mention that on this Fridaybeforespringbreakinamiddleschoolwith8sub (where we will teach and have no fun!) we had 2 periods where the 8th graders were going on a FIELD TRIP!!! On a school bus. To see a guy dressed up like Abe Lincoln give a talk? (The guy was good, but it was over the heads of my 8th graders that I was in charge of). As if subbing in a classroom with doors and walls isn't hard enough, I had to take my 4th hour kids and get them on the SAME bus, do a head count, and then make sure they all went in,sat, behaved, and made it back to the school in one piece.
All on the Friday before Spring Break in a middle school with 8 subs....
Working in a comedy of errors,
Maggie
Friday, April 3, 2009
This post has been edited and formatted to fit your screen
So I wrote a post and thought I hit "publish post" but I hit save- last night. The post was about how tired I was last night, and about subbing and blah blah blah... maybe it was a sign from the writing gods that the post was utter and complete shite that it didn't deserve to be read by the human eye. Or I could've been really really tired and hit the wrong button. Could go either way.
But now it's Friday and most of the crap doesn't make sense so to combine what would've been yesterdays post and some thoughts about today....
I subbed the last 2 days and I was in for English teachers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In my former life, I was known to impart knowledge to teens in a classroom setting about writers of the day and from 'back in the day' so this was a real treat. (And since I've subbed for science where I felt stupid, Calculus where I felt stupider and Spanish where I felt stupidest, I was purty darn thrilled to know sum'in' 'bout sump'in). I knew these ladies and made contact with them days in advance and we worked out lesson plans that would be fun for the kids, keep everyone on track and not lose an instructional day and was stuff that I enjoy teaching. I even wrote the activities and lesson plans for one class.
I had 7th grade speech for a day and 8th grade literature for a day. The speech was fun and I did activities with non verbal cues, focusing on non verbal communication. The kids were GREAT and thought it was fun. They were well behaved and seemed to "get" the point or the purpose of the lesson and the activities. Today with Poe we read and discussed "The Tell Tale Heart" aloud and did a story board project- again my idea. Since I wrote a paper on the madness of Poe and his narrators when I was working on my masters, this was right up my alley. I love some good Poe and I love spinning a bullshit web for the kids about Poe's crazy writings and his crazier life.
Both days were good and fun. I had little to no discipline problems- which to me is a sign of an excellent classroom teacher in the first place. Their regular teachers have high standards so they were a joy to have because someone else did all the work that goes into creating a good class atmosphere for me- kudos to Mrs D and B! These were just good teaching days. I felt like I was doing something more than babysitting and was actually giving them knowledge!
What I also learned was that I do not want to make a career out of this- and yes I'll probably eat my words at some point when the only job I can get is another teaching gig. But I was exhausted the last 2 days when I got home. I was thrilled at no homework but pitted the "real" teachers who had to grade the stuff. These were rare red letter days where it all clicked but they are rare. I don't have the energy to battle kids, dealing with them being rude, discipline, the No Child Left Behind (the worst education legislation in history) paperwork, the administrative paperwork, the grading, lesson plans, faculty meetings, staff meetings, team teacher meetings, mentoring meetings, any other meeting is bullshit meetings, pissed off parents, and the lot of it- all the bloody rubbish- that goes with education.
So I did have a good 2 days. But now what the hell am I going to do when I grow up?
Back to Neverneverland,
Maggie
But now it's Friday and most of the crap doesn't make sense so to combine what would've been yesterdays post and some thoughts about today....
I subbed the last 2 days and I was in for English teachers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In my former life, I was known to impart knowledge to teens in a classroom setting about writers of the day and from 'back in the day' so this was a real treat. (And since I've subbed for science where I felt stupid, Calculus where I felt stupider and Spanish where I felt stupidest, I was purty darn thrilled to know sum'in' 'bout sump'in). I knew these ladies and made contact with them days in advance and we worked out lesson plans that would be fun for the kids, keep everyone on track and not lose an instructional day and was stuff that I enjoy teaching. I even wrote the activities and lesson plans for one class.
I had 7th grade speech for a day and 8th grade literature for a day. The speech was fun and I did activities with non verbal cues, focusing on non verbal communication. The kids were GREAT and thought it was fun. They were well behaved and seemed to "get" the point or the purpose of the lesson and the activities. Today with Poe we read and discussed "The Tell Tale Heart" aloud and did a story board project- again my idea. Since I wrote a paper on the madness of Poe and his narrators when I was working on my masters, this was right up my alley. I love some good Poe and I love spinning a bullshit web for the kids about Poe's crazy writings and his crazier life.
Both days were good and fun. I had little to no discipline problems- which to me is a sign of an excellent classroom teacher in the first place. Their regular teachers have high standards so they were a joy to have because someone else did all the work that goes into creating a good class atmosphere for me- kudos to Mrs D and B! These were just good teaching days. I felt like I was doing something more than babysitting and was actually giving them knowledge!
What I also learned was that I do not want to make a career out of this- and yes I'll probably eat my words at some point when the only job I can get is another teaching gig. But I was exhausted the last 2 days when I got home. I was thrilled at no homework but pitted the "real" teachers who had to grade the stuff. These were rare red letter days where it all clicked but they are rare. I don't have the energy to battle kids, dealing with them being rude, discipline, the No Child Left Behind (the worst education legislation in history) paperwork, the administrative paperwork, the grading, lesson plans, faculty meetings, staff meetings, team teacher meetings, mentoring meetings, any other meeting is bullshit meetings, pissed off parents, and the lot of it- all the bloody rubbish- that goes with education.
So I did have a good 2 days. But now what the hell am I going to do when I grow up?
Back to Neverneverland,
Maggie
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Another stupid "holiday"
I hate April Fool's Day. I never remember it and someone usually plays some sort of joke on me and I usually fall for it and just end up feeling stupid. And I hate feeling stupid.
The entire concept is to make someone feel dumb and that goes against my nature, against my grain. I never want to make anyone feel dumb-- okay, it might have crossed my mind when teaching or parenting, or holding a parent-teacher conference that I was dealing with some stupid folks and while it floats across my subconscious, I would never, ever act on PURPOSELY making someone feel like an idiot.
So why even have April Fool's Day? According some research I did, because I'm a nerd like that, is that April Fools Day came about because sometime in the 1500s Charles IX (tho some research says is was a Pope that made the change) decided to move the start of the new year and the calender to January 1 from April 1. But word didn't travel too fast back then- no emails or newspapers or CNN to update folks, so years later some people in far away countries and lands didn't know that old King Chuck had rearranged the dates and were still celebrating on April 1, so those people were called Fools.
Some folks think it's a light hearted way to celebrate the change of winter to spring and everyone feels silly and carefree. There are "renewal festivals" in countries all over the world. Not just Americans celebrate April Fools Day- countries all over the world have their own traditions and jokes and pranks for this day. I'm not kidding!
Though we do yank a rodent out of a hole to predict the weather, have a special day to tell someone you love them, a day to plant a tree, a special day to fly the flag... why does April Fools Day bother me more than other stupid holidays?
So be vigilant and watch for hoaxes, practical jokes, pranks, silly stories and other lighthearted fare since today is the day that I guess we're all supposed to be a fool or to make others feel foolish. Gawd, if I get called to sub today it could be long and miserable for teenagers are really "good" at this holiday. YUCK- the brats! I know I sound like such a killjoy, but at least if teens could be clever or funny rather than mean or stupid, I might think otherwise.
Personally I think Hallmark should make a card for this occasion, or at least it should garner a box of candy, some flowers, or a lovely meal out...
Feelin' foolish and don't need a special day to have it pointed out,
Maggie
The entire concept is to make someone feel dumb and that goes against my nature, against my grain. I never want to make anyone feel dumb-- okay, it might have crossed my mind when teaching or parenting, or holding a parent-teacher conference that I was dealing with some stupid folks and while it floats across my subconscious, I would never, ever act on PURPOSELY making someone feel like an idiot.
So why even have April Fool's Day? According some research I did, because I'm a nerd like that, is that April Fools Day came about because sometime in the 1500s Charles IX (tho some research says is was a Pope that made the change) decided to move the start of the new year and the calender to January 1 from April 1. But word didn't travel too fast back then- no emails or newspapers or CNN to update folks, so years later some people in far away countries and lands didn't know that old King Chuck had rearranged the dates and were still celebrating on April 1, so those people were called Fools.
Some folks think it's a light hearted way to celebrate the change of winter to spring and everyone feels silly and carefree. There are "renewal festivals" in countries all over the world. Not just Americans celebrate April Fools Day- countries all over the world have their own traditions and jokes and pranks for this day. I'm not kidding!
Though we do yank a rodent out of a hole to predict the weather, have a special day to tell someone you love them, a day to plant a tree, a special day to fly the flag... why does April Fools Day bother me more than other stupid holidays?
So be vigilant and watch for hoaxes, practical jokes, pranks, silly stories and other lighthearted fare since today is the day that I guess we're all supposed to be a fool or to make others feel foolish. Gawd, if I get called to sub today it could be long and miserable for teenagers are really "good" at this holiday. YUCK- the brats! I know I sound like such a killjoy, but at least if teens could be clever or funny rather than mean or stupid, I might think otherwise.
Personally I think Hallmark should make a card for this occasion, or at least it should garner a box of candy, some flowers, or a lovely meal out...
Feelin' foolish and don't need a special day to have it pointed out,
Maggie