The Door to Narnia

What if every room had a magical escape portal?  Many books and movies geared towards children contain just this concept…a doorway for a child to leave their reality and enter another. Narnia, Wonderland, even the movie Coralline give children a specific way to escape. But why do children need a way to escape? Isn’t childhood the very place to which many adults tease they wish they could take a portal? Perhaps those adults hold a memory of childhood skewed by nostalgia and as children they also had some concerns, problems, worries, and unrest regarding their future just as they do now.

Or perhaps instead of wanting to actually be a child, adults just wish they had a way to still believe in Wonderland. I suppose as an adult it is common to have a lessened capacity to absorb fantasy as reality, so many use books or movies as a way to escape to another world. Well, except for me. I literally have a clear fantasy of taking off to Never Never Land. And when I say literally (because I know the meaning of literally) I mean that I lay there in the grey morning hours when I am still sleepy but not quite awake and imagine myself flying over the sparkling blues and greens of the Island debating where to visit first. Mermaid Lagoon usually wins, in case you were wondering.

This makes me wonder if it is the active imagination in some other dreamers and me that makes us grit our teeth at the thought of being interrupted while reading. I have written about this gargantuan pet peeve of mine before but somehow it always comes up because it just KEEPS HAPPENING! An interruption mid page is the equivalent of a giant (well-meaning though completely annoying) hand reaching into Wonderland, grabbing Alice by her hair, plucking her right out of there and sitting her on a plain bench on an ordinary day to talk to her about the weather. The next time you visit a library or a book store watch what happens when all the people reading are suddenly interrupted by someone who has no control over the volume of their voice. All the readers jump from the disturbance of the silence and the disturbance of the story that was unfolding in their head.

Granted, most of the stories that provide an escape to children are driving towards the lesson of “there is no place like home.” Whether this forced turn-off from the magical other world stems from a psychotic queen, a fake mom who steals children’s eyes or the demise of a beloved lion (whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy??????) the fantasy land is ultimately proven to be uninhabitable and less preferable to the safety of home. This brings me back to my love of Peter Pan. Although Wendy determines that having the security and love of family in the real world is best for a child, it is also revealed that retaining an active imagination and holding on to some of the innocence of childhood are the good strategies to having a more fulfilling adult life.

I maintain that it is best to keep an open mind to any ideas or possibilities. Whether it be alternate worlds, alien life forms, God, or just ultimate happiness, those abstract ideas keep our personal portal to Narnia open and our lives enriched.

Hurricanes and Elections

There has been some discussion stirring following Hurricane Sandy regarding the election and how or why it should affect people’s votes. The reason it should affect those votes is simple. Mitt Romney has said in the past that he believes FEMA (the Federal Emergency Management Agency) should be defunded. Of course now that FEMA is helping actual people right before an election he has changed his stance somewhat.


So while President Obama was off being non-partisan, providing immediate organized support, and being, well, Presidential….Mitt Romney was posing for cheesy photo ops with other volunteers gathering canned goods. This to me shows how out of touch Romney actually is. People throw around the term “out of touch” about Romney left and right (haha, no actually just left) but this time I feel it truly fits. The day after a Hurricane Disaster people need to be rescued. They need the flames pouring out of their burning neighborhoods to be extinguished. They need electricity and basic transportation to be restored. What they don’t at this moment right here need, is canned peas!

Some republicans believe that as a country we should not rely on the government to fix our problems, but that in times like natural disasters we should come together to volunteer our time and efforts to help our fellow man. Also the States should fix it themselves. That sounds great and pretty but in reality groups of random citizens and local governments can not organize and efficiently accomplish what FEMA and the trained rescue workers can.

I am obviously voting for President Barack Obama in the upcoming election. Otherwise if Romney gets his wishes, then following a Tornado I could be sitting in a pile of wood that was formerly my home with a nice bag of canned goods to help me overcome the tragedy.

Missed Opportunity?

Lately my greatest fear regarding my own potential as a writer is the possibility of a past missed opportunity during College. I was and am so grateful to have parents who were willing to pay for my college costs…from the books to the beer. At the time it seemed reasonable and prudent to major in Accounting. I didn’t simply open the College Catalog to a random page and point. Instead this decision was agreed upon by all interested parties upon examination of the job market and discussion of my stellar math skills. As it would turn out, math is definitely not the same thing as accounting. I impart this wisdom to potential students all the time. Just because something has to do with numbers, that does NOT make it math. Also turns out that not only is accounting not like math, I really don’t even like it. For me, on a scale of Bees to Disney, Accounting falls only slightly above bees.


The biggest deterrent to College Ann deciding to major in something like English or Writing at UK was that College Ann didn’t even enjoy writing! She hated papers and essays and such. I assume this is because when I am forced to do something then the enjoyment gets subsequently sucked out. Cristy was telling me today that she is not looking forward to her Literature Class because when she is TOLD to read something her attitude wants to go the way mine did when I was forced to practice piano. But I don’t waannaaaaaaaaaaaaaa read it!!!

To make matters worse, I didn’t plan on my future self utilizing the knowledge I was learning in my few English and Composition classes. So while I did enjoy reading, grammar and analyzing stories and Shakespeare, a lot of that knowledge seems to have been filed in the “it’s ok to forget later” part of my brain. You know, where I put the stuff like chemistry and Football rules.

Sometimes I will be reading blogs about writing and things like “sentence structure” or “ethos” will come up and I start thinking “do I even remember what that is and if so am I doing it all wrong!?” Terrifying. Does it really matter though? Is it possible that it could turn out to be a good thing that I don’t have to conform to certain models or expectations? Is it possible that people outside of academia might feel my writing more relatable if it isn’t influenced by academic law? Was it truly a missed opportunity? Only time will tell; but I am willing to find out. I am willing to put effort in and to practice, read and study things on my own to find my own voice as a writer.

Regardless, the Income Statement route I ended up taking did bring me where I am now. From Auditor to General Accounting to Recruiting to Admissions/sales to wanting to be out of Sales – along that journey I have made friends, learned things, changed and grown as a person. You can never go back and change your life. And as I told my cousin yesterday: you wont ever have a perfect life but you should never stop striving to make it so.

Ridiculous Pinterest Ideas

I love Pinterest, really I do.  But sometimes I see things pinned on there that lead me to the conclusion that the pinner just didn't really think it through.  You guys, sometimes something might seem like a good idea, and it just isn't.  Here is a random sampling for your enjoyment. 

 1. Hope all you are storing is pillows because that little plastic lip isn’t going to hold much else!!  Ok plus why is this garage so tall?

2. Initials instead of tags on gifts. This is such a great idea…unless you have more than one person in your family with the same initial, as 98% of families do…



 3. So you drop the yogurt in little dots on a tray, freeze them and then have these cute yogurt bites to serve!!  Until they melt 10 minutes later and then you have just served your guests a giant bowl of yogurt.

 4. This is insane!!  First of all if that magnet has a loose hold then I am certainly going to knock the wrong knife off while reaching for the right one and that right there seems to be the number one best way to lose a toe.  OR if they are attached with a strong magnet then I am going to have to tug at that knife to get it off of there and then when it finally loosens and the knife and my arm go flying this seems to be the second best way to lose a toe…or a dog.

5. Place water with food color in a balloon in the freezer to freeze, right?  Then they will come out shaped like whatever they are laying against, not these marbles, right?  And what kid ever even said "I want a clown, a trampoline and some medium sized colored ice marbles at my birthday party."

6. This is wrong on so many levels.  First of all, do you even know how fragile glass Christmas tree ornaments are!?  This hostess is going to have 9 brown drink stains all over her carpet and multiple guests with hand lesions. And then also....also! no one would be able to put these wobbly globes down all night until they were completely done with the last drop.  What if they don’t like it for God’s sake!? 

7. Anyone who has ever made cookies with cookie cutters knows that this will yield about 7 cute patchy colored cookies as shown, and then roughly 25 dull brown cookies.  You have to gather the dough and re-roll it like 10 times, people!

8. The caption on this pin says "recycle your old DVD cases into activity boxes for car rides."  Do you eat your DVD's?  They are not consumable, so why would you have old DVD cases laying around?  Instead why don't you find me a use for empty egg cartons or something.   

Grief

I have discovered an effective weapon for fighting grief and figured that I should share it with the people I love (well, the people who read this blog. Probably you don’t all love me and probably some people who love me don’t even read this stuff.)


Rather than worrying about all those stages of grief and whether you have been through them all or whether there are more to come; you can take this simple approach and just forget about all that nonsense. I mean, I have been grieving in the past and had anger way before I was in denial and then been all sad and then angry again and thought: “Who organized these stages, anyway!!!”

So the weapon is this: plan a fabulous vacation you can’t afford. In order for this strategy to work you must have a vacation destination in mind that will completely relax you and one that is, for you, your “Happy Place.” We all know where my happy place is so I don’t even need to write it. Ok, wait yes I do DISNEY WORLD! Sorry, even writing it makes me feel a little better. You need to plan a vacation you can’t afford to somewhere that when you simply write down the name of the place it helps just a little bit. That is key.

When I say plan the vacation I don’t mean simply picture yourself there in your head and smile. I mean really plan that shit. I have been on the Disney Website all morning planning out which hotel I will live in and what parks I will visit. I have created a budget (even though I don’t have the money for said budget) and thought of who might go with me (Cristy has to work, boo.) It is most important to really commit to this planning. I have gotten to the point where I am even thinking of ways to raise money for this journey. (For example, I have about 400 FB friends….if each of them gave $5 to the cause…)

When I get home tonight I am going to sit down with some wine, gather together all of my Disney Vacation planning materials, books and DVD’s (yes, I will need like 3 tray tables and the coffee table to hold all of them, beat you to that joke) and plan some more. I am going to plan my little heart out until some of the hurt in the heart hopefully goes away.

                                          (Happy Place)

Warning: This theory has not been tested scientifically or even with anyone other than the author so the advice contained in this blog bears no guarantee of relieving your grief or that of anyone you suggest utilize this method. 

Acting

My Mom and I had a conversation recently about Jennifer Lawrence’s career (The Lawrence Family went to our church growing up and I am friends with her brother, Ben.) Her lovely face is simply everywhere these days so we find ourselves talking about her occasionally. We were bouncing around ideas about what that thing is that makes her stand out over so many other young actresses. She has done drama, action, small film, large film, comedy and scary (I may or may not hide half my face under blankets during the commercial for House at the End of the Street) all in her young career. With an Oscar nomination for Winters Bone and rumors of another for the Silver Linings Playbook (both of these for two different genres,) girl has got it going on.


When I consider some of the roles I have seen her master, scenes I have watched her nail; I remember finding myself thinking “I could never do that!” Last night I realized, that’s IT! That is what makes someone great. While watching TV or a play I often find myself flirting with the idea “I could so do that.” However given deeper thought I always come to the conclusion that I couldn’t even pull off Kristen Stewart levels of acting. I would giggle while she sulks. Acting is quickly struck from my list of “Potential Career Paths and/or Ways to get Rich,” but the thought does cross my mind. It does NOT cross my mind when watching Jennifer.

Cristy and I recently watched Albert Nobbs and you can bet Glenn Close’s Oscars that it didn't occur to me for one second that I could have pulled off that masterpiece of acting genius. She IS Albert Nobbs; she becomes a completely different person in that movie. Based on her track record so far, Jennifer’s IMDB profile could end up looking something like a Glenn Close or a Meryl Streep’s even.

Jennifer seems to have been driven from a young age to do something different, to be something special, and she challenges herself. In an interview where she describes failing at log chopping (for me failing at log chopping would mean lots of dead people and not a single chip in the log) she says she refused to let them bring in a body double as they threatened to do. She chopped up that darned log and some other ones, too. Dang, lady, that is why you are Katniss Freaking Everdeen! You want something and you get it!

My Mom’s favorite story of a young Jennifer is when Jennifer’s Mother, Karen, brought her to meet with Mom so that Mom could try to convince the teenager that she needed to keep attending Youth Group and Choir at our Church on Sunday nights. Jennifer made such a compelling argument to my Mom she was left thinking “well, maybe the child is right!” She knew she didn’t want to do it and she calmly made it clear why. When I wanted or didn’t want to do something at 13 I would yell things about “Not Fair” and “everyone else” and “WHY ME!?”

Comparing Jennifer Lawrence with Kristen Stewart is like comparing Barbara Kingsolver with that horny lady who wrote 50 Shades of Bondage or whatever it is. Does not compute. She is already on a completely different playing field and I am very excited to see where her career goes while she completely becomes these other characters she chooses to portray. I guess even that scary one because I’m sure Cristy will make me watch it.

How To Spot a Writer

I was sitting outside today reading during my lunch break on the concrete picnic set which is the only outside seating option at my job. My desire to be outside and away from my gloomy desk supersedes the discomfort inflicted from ass on rock. Who even ever thought that a concrete seat was a good idea? Next they will be making paper weights made of cotton balls. Anyway…..I started mulling over some odd behaviors that are likely unique to those of us who enjoy writing; and then as a writer of course decided to share those writer qualities with you…in writing. Ahem; here they are in no particular order:

1. Writers could be mid conversation, mid book, mid pretty much anything and leave that task to write down an idea that sprung out of wherever any idea comes from. It could be a bad one; it could be so ingenious that it needs to go under lock and key out of fear of thievery. But either way it must be documented at that very time lest it be forgotten. Cristy finally broke down and bought me a small note book to have on hand because she felt sorry for me and my sad little scraps of paper and envelopes with illegible notes scratched in random patterns.

2. Writers spend time editing and crafting the most appropriate words to convey their feelings. Thus, we might also craft a better conversation than the one we just had with you and come back later with something better.

3. If you catch a writer or someone you suspect is a writer starring off into space then probably there is something highly creative and interesting going on in their head. Best to leave them be.

4. Writers are constantly editing their own work so it becomes natural to then start editing everyone else’s stuff too. The majority of the time I avoid critiquing others because I know that would be completely rude and frowned upon; however occasionally one might slip by so I apologize in advance if it ever happens to you and yours.

5. Writers typically will have ink smudged all over their writing hand from the page. Just kidding, this isn’t the 1800’s and we don’t use ink wells anymore, silly!!!

6. When I spot someone who looks so sleepy they might fall asleep in a meeting (and sometimes they do) I wonder if they were up late with their kids, they drank too much the night before, or maybe, just maybe they are a writer.  Sometimes I will wake in the middle of the night with a thought or an idea and I lay there trying to staple it into my mind, writing and rewriting it onto a virtual post-it note.  I worry and worry that I will forget it after a night of weird dreams so that eventually I get up and write it down.  That process takes a good 1-2 hours out of an otherwise normal night. 

If you enjoy writing and have something to add, feel free to comment and lengthen my list!!

Whoops

Remember that uneasy feeling when you were little because some other kids would be talking about something that you didn’t know about yet and you had to play along but not act too involved in the conversation out of fear they would ask you questions about it? Well today's blog is about when that kind of thing happens as an adult.


You know, like when you thought something was one thing but it turns out to be this total different thing. I am going to share some of my more embarrassing ones with you in hopes that you will do the same and we can all point at one another and have a good laugh at each others’ expense. Please be a good sport.

For pretty much ever I have thought that Key Biscayne was a place near the bottom of Florida somewhere called Keepiscane. One word. When I finally realized it was a Key like Largo or the better known West, it was a revelation.

Just recently I was reading an article about people who self diagnose themselves on the internet and the hypochondria that causes (I’m looking at you, Cristy.) The article sited the Pew Research Council’s statistical data on percent of internet users who do this and I was confused. You see until that moment I thought that the Pew Research Council compiled statistical data of people at churches. In my mind it was data collected regarding the people sitting in the pews. I didn’t get why the church would care how many of their members searched their symptoms on the internet. How many members searched porn or something, I could maybe get. Turns out the Pew Research Council has nothing to do with actual Pews. Yeah, I’m dumb.

Anyway, another fun one is that for most of my life I have used the phrase “All intents and purposes” just like everyone else does. However I though it was “All intensive purposes.” If you have heard me say that and didn’t correct me then shame on you!

Song lyrics work, too. When we were little my Brother, Paul and I thought that The Rolling Stones song “Start Me Up” was actually about a Mexican Hero named “El Estafio.” “El Estafio, El Estafio, you never stop.”

OK, enough laughing at me, now your turn. Make me laugh, folks!

Chickens Vs. The Gays

The whole Chick-Fil-gAypocolypse this week has created more discussion, anger, disgust, shock and “Fried Processed Chikn Food” eating than I could ever have imagined when I heard that Chick-Fil-A’s CEO had spoken the infamous words “Guilty as charged” last week. For one, I already knew that the company gave money to Anti-Marriage Equality causes. I already used my HRC application on my Iphone to help me chose Fairness Friendly companies at which to spend my hard earned money. I also didn’t expect the protests following it to become so misguided.



Throughout the poultry battle over the past week or so there was one thing that some Gay Marriage supporters got terribly wrong, in my opinion. When Boston’s mayor decided to write and publish a letter to Chick-Fil-A advising them that their business was not welcome, I hope he was doing so with his constituents in mind; however government officials should never have become involved. Chick-Fil-A and all businesses have every right to give their money to Anti Gay Marriage groups, Anti Tall People Getting Married groups or anti whatever they want.


However, here is where the Gay Marriage supporters have it right and also I think where the confusion has set in. So many fights have broken out and feelings been hurt because someone’s family member or friend supported Chick-Fil-A yesterday. Unfortunately I think many of those supporters thought they were supporting Freedom of Speech. This was never about Freedom of Speech. We as consumers have the right to take that information the CEO shared with us and to protest the company. We have the right to stop eating there. We have the right to post on Facebook, billboards, TV commercials and banners in our parades about it. We have the right to OUR freedom of expression to react as we see fit. I have blogged before about the misconceptions relating to Freedom of Speech. Anytime someone has a problem with something some douchbag says, someone else is going to say “Stop blasting him, he has a right to say that, it is his FREEDOM OF SPEECH.” Indeed it is! And it is also everyone else’s right to hate what he said and let him know it!


People make consumer decisions based on all different factors. Some choose based on price, appearance, whether it’s “Made In The USA,” or made in a sweatshop. Some might buy something because their friends like it or because Miley Cyrus wore it. Others choose based on the company’s philosophies, how they treat their employees or, as is this case, based on where the company sends some of their profits. You see, the CEO didn’t simply say that he thinks Marriage should be between Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve (Which I always think is funny. Naked straight people can get married but not fully clothed gay men.) He also gives some of Chick-Fil-A’s profits to Anti-Gay causes. This is where many gay people were flabbergasted to find that some of our loved ones chose to actively support the chicken man yesterday; on a day set aside to show support to him and his statements about his decisions. So while I understand that Gay Marriage might not necessarily be a factor in where you decide to eat fried food on a normal day, yesterday was different.


There is one thing about the fight for Marriage Equality I will never understand and maybe someone can help me with. I fully support your right to believe in your interpretation of your Bible, your Torah or your Holy copy of The Complete Chronicles and Gospel of Puff the Magic Dragon. However why in the world does it matter to you if gay people can get married in your country or your state? Fine, don’t allow it in your Church, Synagogue, or….Cave? (where would you go to worship Puff, not sure) but why does it matter to you if they wed in a courthouse?


Chicken man cares (and apparently a lot of people still care) but times they are definitely a-changin.’ Support for Gay Marriage (or Marriage Equality as I like to call it) grows every day. Young people simply don’t care who their Aunts, friends, cousins, moms, Grandparents or teachers share their lives with. As my Sister-In-Law recently pointed out, you don’t see people picketing “Chubby Chasers” or couples who found each other because they both share a passion for beautiful covered bridges. It doesn’t matter why or how two adult people fall in love, just that they are happy and are treated fairly. Eventually it will be a non-issue and I think it will be in my lifetime. However in the mean time it matters greatly to me where I spend my money, who I vote for and that I continue to show pride in who I am.


In the mean time I think everyone needs to sit down with friends and family and discuss why they did or didn’t eat places yesterday. And I will continue to fully support chicken man’s right to believe in his interpretation of the bible and give your money to Anti-Marriage Equality Groups. I guarantee you he won’t be giving mine.


P.S. You wouldn’t have caught me dead in a Chick-Fil-A even before I knew that those cute cows were homophobic because I don’t eat Chicken or Cows anyway, homophobes or not.

Growing Up

If you don’t like the musical Wicked then you either a.) have not seen it; b.) have no feelings and also don’t like things like baskets of kittens, grandparent hugs and Disney World; or c.) were suffering from severe personal trauma when you saw Wicked and were not fit to properly form opinions. If it is either A or C then I suggest you research the most efficient way for you to see Wicked as soon as possible, the most obvious answer being a road trip to NYC. Since I have provided you with this advice, it would be extremely rude if you did not bring me along. Just saying…


On our way home from the Smokey Mountains last week we were listening to my IPod on shuffle. I always want other people to listen to my IPod on shuffle because obviously I have compiled a masterpiece of musical variety encompassing all of the best songs that were ever written and performed. Your IPod is probably pitiful in comparison, but I am not taking into account that people can have different taste in music than I do. I always forget that….weird.

Anyway, we were listening to “Thank Goodness” which is a song from Wicked which has consistently been one of my favorites (Duh, that’s why it is included in the brilliant list of audio ecstasy that is my IPod.) During the scene Glinda is shifting into position as the Good Witch and in the process is maturing past the flippant girl she was before. Also in the background of the scene you have the hatred brewing for the Wicked Witch and all the misconceptions that accompany that hatred. Glinda is being pulled between what she knows as truth, her loyalty to her friend Elphaba, her dreams and goals and also the perfect appearance she wants to portray. Those are a lot of things to balance, and during this time she is realizing that growing up and reaching her goals doesn’t happen on a smooth path like the beautiful Yellow Brick Road. There are many difficult decisions to make along the way and choices that leave consequences we sometimes don’t realize until they have occurred:

'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of, cost
There's a couple of things get, lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed’

Glinda is uneasy to learn that you can’t just make things pretty and sweet and expect that will get you by your entire life. True leadership isn’t just getting people to like you; it requires tough choices and Emerald City sized responsibility.

This is the essence of what “Coming Of Age” is all about. In fact actual age has nothing to do with it. It is about that period in life when choices become painful, our path is made bumpy and our critical decisions are no longer “Go out for the night or stay in?” And after it starts we spend the rest of our lives growing up and wondering each and every day whether we are good enough and making the right choices. I am glad that when I was young people simply said to me “enjoy being young these are the best years of your life” rather than what they were thinking – “enjoy being young because when you get older mean people will expect you to make an endless array of decisions with colossal consequences that could literally ruin your life, or at the very least ruin your day….oh also dark spots and wrinkles, you will have lots of those….”

I guess for me that has been one of the hardest realizations to come to. Not the wrinkles but that it never ends. I will never be done “Growing Up” as I actually looked forward to when playing on the swingset. That must be why it seems so wrong in Peter Pan when Father decides that Wendy will be moving from the Nursery to Grow Up in one evening. It can't happen over night.  Sometimes I feel grown up, sometimes I feel like a child, and sometimes I feel that although I do have a lot more growing up to do, things do work out eventually for me just as they will for Glinda.

A Dog's Perception

This morning on our daily AM potty walk outside, my dog and I noticed the landscapers using a trimmer cutting the grass around the trees. This is what I saw:

However, based on Koda running desperately in the other direction I do believe that this is what she saw:

This got me thinking about perception, mine vs. hers. This fun little game could be applied to many things, for example, the way a child sees things at different ages. But I can't cover it all at once so let’s start here.

Me – leaving for the day, pat the animals on their heads and look forward to seeing them when I get home.

Koda - My mom just died.

Me – Car ride to the dog park

Koda –

Me –

Koda –

Me –

Koda –

Me - Someone's at the door

Koda -

It's a wonder humans and dogs get along so well when we see things so differently!! 

He said what?

Any one who has worked in customer service has their stories of irate, borderline insane customers throwing fits, breaking things, spitting, yelling, pushing, and spewing any combination of curse words found in the English or Spanish language.  My family is not that type of customer.  However on Saturday night we were treated like we were.

                I am extremely non-confrontational.  I don’t like conflict in any form.  I avoid UK vs. UL arguments, I have been known to tear up if someone snaps at me and you couldn’t pay me enough to watch a Presidential debate or the political shows where people interrupt each other, smirk and roll eyes while the other talks or get louder hoping that will make  their opinion more right.  However, if someone or something I feel strongly about is under attack, I have been known to hold my ground.  That doesn’t mean I don’t still cry about it later.

                I felt the need to document what happened Saturday night at Bluegrass Pizza and Pub in Danville, Ky.  This could be a cautionary for future restaurateurs, a demo on completely failing at patience, or just an “Oh my gosh, he said what?” moment for the day. 

                My Mom, Dad, Sister, Nephew (20 months) and I went to have dinner in Danville, KY before heading back to their home for some family time this past Saturday the 12^th.  We waited only about 15 minutes for our table and were seated in the cute local restaurant near the front window.  We commented on the décor, admired the menu and noticed a diverse clientele enjoying their evening.  My mom was very excited when Danville went Wet recently, opening them up to many new business and culinary experiences they previously had to drive to Lexington to enjoy. 

                When our waiter arrived we could tell that he was new and also nervous.  (Now I know why because I would be nervous, too if I was working for someone whose switch could be flipped so easily; but more on that later.)  As we ordered my Dad asked what kind of dressings were available for his salad and the young man replied “Pretty much anything .)  Dad asked for Honey Mustard? and the server said he would bring it out.  We also ordered our pizzas.  Sister – Pepperoni.  Mom and Dad – Veggie Delight with olives only on one half.  Me – Veggie delight with no cheese.  We made our usual joke about how I am so weird and don’t want the cheese.  Haha, cue everyone’s laughs to make it ok if the waiter gives me a weird look as they usually do.  You see, as a family, we like for people and interactions to be comfortable and fun.  The waiter appeared to be writing everything down and we went on with our meal.  Dad was told they didn’t have Honey Mustard but they brought him Spicy Mustard instead (not dressing) and then later they found Honey Mustard.  Interesting.  The usual 15-20 minutes later our food arrived.  We had one pepperoni, and two Mediterraneans.  We advised the waiter that we had not ordered those two Mediterraneans.  I reminded him that Mom and Dad had the Veggie Delight with olives on half and I had the Veggie Delight with no cheese.  As he walked away, wide eyed and slightly bewildered looking, I commented to my Mom that these next pizzas would likely still be wrong, in which case they could eat theirs and I would eat left over pasta or something when I got home. 

Apparently the owners/managers of Bluegrass Pizza and Pub are a couple, and the Female Manager of the two came by, apologized, explained the newness of the waiter and offered to bring something for my nephew to color.  She was VERY nice and her behavior was exactly what you would expect in this situation.  Guess what?  WE were nice, too!  We don’t like to complain and we told her it wasn’t a big deal, everyone was all smiles, on with the meal.  At this point Nephew was getting fussy so Dad took him out to walk around downtown Danville.  At 20 months, that is very exciting.  If only the little boy had known the excitement to come at our very table!

                15-20 minutes later, out come the pizzas.  Both Veggie Delights with full olive coverage and full cheese application.  We advised our waiter that these were again, wrong, and we would like some boxes please.   Just then the Male Owner arrived with a box for the half eaten Pepperoni pizza and said “oh, I didn’t realize you still had food coming.”  At this point my mom was a little upset because all she wanted was to take her kids and grandkids out to eat and here her daughter was going to have to settle for cold pasta salad at home.  She told him “Yes, we had to wait because we had the wrong pizza and they came out wrong again.  We really shouldn’t have to pay for this pizza right here because she can’t even eat it.” 

                And here, my friends, is where you would expect the following: “I am so sorry that happened, let me go back and talk to the kitchen and see what happened, I will be right back;” or something like that, right?  That is what I would have expected.  Instead…. “Ok well, you don’t give me orders, I am going to go take care of it.” 

                YES!  That is what he said, to my mom, who is so sweet and she just sat there amazed.  We were all three amazed.  We sat for a good two minutes in silence contemplating what had just happened.  I mean, come on, Man!  Have you ever eaten at a restaurant before?  That doesn’t happen!

                Finally as my ears turned red and I sat and watched my Mom with her hurt feelings and big eyes, I got up, marched myself back to the bar area where the two owners and the waiter were standing in a huddle.  I walked straight up to that Male Owner and I explained that we were not upset with the waiters, mistakes happen, I have been there myself (I mean I don’t think I ever got it wrong twice but, you know…) and we were prepared to just call it a night.  However, I told him, it was extremely rude for him to say that to my Mom.

                He said that he didn’t care, we can’t give him orders, this is his restaurant.  I asked if this is what he wanted us to tell Danville about the restaurant.  Female Owner was standing there going “no, mam, no…” but he didn’t concur.  He said we can just go ahead and get out if we don’t like it. "Just get out” he told me.

                This is the point where I could have just gone all ballistic (others who are stronger than me have said that they would have asked him if he wanted to step outside with us as we “got out.”)   I could have made a scene in front of all the customers and really brought out this egotistic land mine’s personality.  Instead, my experience teaches me that you can’t reason with someone like that, so I turned around and collected my belongings.  Apparently they eventually brought the check with two pizzas taken off but at that point I was outside playing with my Nephew; he calmed me down in 10 seconds as he laughed and ran towards me (I love it when they do that.)

                Now, I want you to put on your imagination caps.  Imagine if we had been the type of customer who really likes to complain.  You know the kind who sits there waiting to find the smallest hint of a finger print on a knife, snaps at the server who can’t recommend the best wine and can sense heat lamps on food before it is even swallowed.  Picture...Anton Ego in Ratatouille.  Those types of people will inevitably come to this restaurant, probably one per night!  How does this man deal with that without someone being thrown across a table every week?  It is a small restaurant in a small town, we don’t mind mistakes.  Heck we don’t even mind fingerprints.  What we do mind is self-righteous ass hole owners. 

                Perhaps we caught him on a bad day.  Maybe his pet mouse just died and the rent was due and the addition of the rain just threw him over the edge.  Regardless, I NEVER can forgive someone for ruining time with my family.  Sure it gave me a good story to tell but somehow the thought of him telling some undercover food critic that they “can’t give orders” to him isn’t giving me enough satisfaction. 

                Suggestions?  I have emailed them a copy of this blog (not the link) to read and you can reach them here:

http://www.bluegrasspizzaandpub.com/

Dirt Under My Fingernails

I was doing my yearly gardening recently, which for me means dumping seeds and plants in pots and hoping I get something useful and/or pretty out of them. The next day I noticed all the ugly, impossible to remove dirt under my fingernails. I do realize that putting on gloves would solve this yearly problem but, whatever.

This reminded me of one random summer (I can’t remember which) when I had decided that I was grown up so I wanted to grow out my fingernails like my Mom’s. One day I came in from a particularly exciting session of digging maple tree helicopters out of our sandbox while Meg buried my feet; when my Mom noticed something. Dirt – under those longer fingernails (actually only half were even remotely long because most broke off making mud pies or playing neighborhood snot-berry war or something.) She warned me that if I wanted to be grown up enough to have long finger nails then I would have to keep them clean. I needed to decide between long fingernails or playing in the yard.

Would that I could go back to myself at that age and tell me to cut those suckers off and dig in that sand to my heart’s content. “Watch Peter Pan one more time and try to grasp it’s meaning before you are 25, little Ann!!”

Peter Pan is my all time favorite Disney Movie (and also favorite ride at Walt Disney World) and all you have to do is see me ride or watch to know why. The memories attached, coupled with the message of cherishing and then later longing for summer days with no responsibilities fill my already overly emotional self with emotiony emotions. At Disney it is not only acceptable to act like a child but it is encouraged and rewarded! Who wouldn’t want to do that? Mean old Scroogie Captain Hook types, that’s who!

All of this is totally cliché and children will never fully appreciate what it is to be a child until they are standing there 20 years later in a kitchen with crusty dishes in the sink, paying bills while screaming at a washing machine that gave up on life and just stopped spinning. But that won’t keep me from sitting with my nieces and nephews and making them watch Peter Pan while cutting their little fingernails and reminding them to never grow up. Even if you must grow up, don’t ever really.



"Why do we have to grow up? I know more adults who have the children's approach to life. They're people who don't give a hang what the Joneses do. You see them at Disneyland every time you go there. They are not afraid to be delighted with simple pleasures, and they have a degree of contentment with what life has brought - sometimes it isn't much, either."

- Walt Disney

Lyin' King

This fun little exchange took place about a year ago but I was just giggling to myself about it today so though that I would share so you can giggle too!

When I was but a young pup admissions rep at Brown Mackie College Northern Kentucky (on the bulletin board I always get dinged for not putting the dash between the words College and Northern, so I am intentionally leaving it out here in defiance) I had a student come in to tour the school. We will call him J.

J had quite a few obstacles to getting in school; his work schedule was here and there, he had 5 kids at home and he had been in and out of trouble with the law (which really means he had a bit of a drug problem.)

Try as I might I was never able to get J in for his Financial Aid appointment, which is a pre-cursor to starting school; students must have a payment plan in place. I bet we scheduled 15 appointments with him over three months trying to get it completed and he just simply could not ever make it. Every time I called he sounded like Eeyore answered the phone after taking 3 Zanex and drinking a bottle of rum. He always had some far fetched elaborate excuse (impressive for a drugged out dude!) 5-6 months later I had mostly given up on him when I received the strangest call from J’s mother in California. The conversation went like this:


J’s Mom: Hi this is J’s Mother calling from California.

Me: Um, ok. Hi!

J’s Mom: I know that J is a 30 year old man but as his mother I can’t help but worry about him still. J told me that his check was going to be late this month; do you know anything about that?

Me: His check? For wh……a Financial Aid check?

J’s Mom: Yes he said that his refund check from Financial Aid was late this month and that was why he needed some extra money.

Me: Um, um, I can’t give out information on students and also I am not in the Financial Aid Department.

J’s Mom: Oh, I see, yes I understand. Well, Ann, do you know if he has been coming to his classes? I just want to make sure he is doing what he needs to do in school.

Me: I am so sorry (sorry your son is a lying sack of poop, but I didn’t say that) but I can not give out any information on Students at all.

J’s Mom: Well thank you so much, Ann, I understand.


And you guys, this lady was like SO nice and had the sweetest voice; it was killing me to realize that J was lying to her to get extra drug money. Like even Leo DiCaprio’s character in The Basketball Diaries wasn’t THAT mean! I am picturing her like the little lady begging for insurance money due to her in the movie The Incredibles: gray haired, hunched over holding her little purse with the metal chain strap and a tissue. Poor lady!!

I tell you what J is one lucky bastard that I am not able to give out any information on students to anyone but the student themselves. His dumb self had given his mom my DIRECT LINE to call and check in on him. Risky move, I guess his motto is Hakuna Matata!

Trump vs. Trunk

It has been said that many times people with decent book smarts can tend to lack in common sense. (Shut up, that is SO not me!) I would argue that many times business smarts coincide with a lack of social sense. Donald Trump says some of the dumbest shit I have heard from a person of relative power; and apparently his sons take after him. Photos are surfacing of them holding up body parts of wild animals they “hunted” in Africa. Really?? Just because you have gobs of money doesn’t mean that you can ignore basic laws of humanity. It seriously reminds me of the movie Hostel; where extremely rich people pay a small fortune in order to torture and kill other humans.

They stated that they were just participating in a local custom. A “local custom” which further lessens the number of beautiful elephants we have left on this planet so that you can be Big Strong Man, Hunt from Truck, Kill Wild Beast. (Wild Beasts that were brought down with sophisticated weapons, how manly.)

The Business Insider’s Joseph Alexiou, lists the 7 dumbest things Donald Trump had said in a two week time on April 3, 2011. I can only assume his sons are headed in the same direction of delusional power and self satisfaction. One of my favorites was regarding President Obama’s Birth Certificate:

"there is something on that birth certificate — maybe religion, maybe it says he's a Muslim, I don't know. Maybe he doesn't want that. Or, he may not have one."

Oh Donald….

According to ABC News, one of the young Trumps recently tweeted in response to the controversy:

“in parts of africa they are actually overpopulated and killed by the govt. I know its not PC but look it up you’ll see.”

That is very interesting; I never knew that I could “look it up!” I will go look it up now…….

………….Oh yep, I found that elephants are not endangered. They are also stampeding through NYC at this very moment according to one website. They might, according to another site, eventually be the cause of the zombie apocalypse. And based on another story I found, they can fly!! Dumbo was a true tale all along!!

I am sure that the local’s who are “Ivory hunters,” according to the Trumps, do indeed tell them that there are way too many elephants in Africa - in order to justify their trade. In reality there are conservation efforts all over Africa trying to protect them from extinction. My mom “adopted” an Elephant on my behalf through one such group and she is beautiful and thriving, thank goodness.

Even if you are participating in a local custom does that make it ok? If the local custom was to sacrifice anyone with their father’s name sake and feed them to the hyenas then I doubt Donald Jr. would be as eager to participate.

Bad Kid

Super Nanny is so fun to watch because 9 times out of 10 the parents call in Nanny Jo to “Fix” their kids, not realizing that the only fixing that needs to be done is the parenting. Red faced and exhausted mom’s and dads are usually shocked and offended to be told that their children are not actually monsters; on the contrary it is entirely the parents’ fault that the children are ACTING like monsters.

Discipline is what she teaches, children need to know their boundaries otherwise they will grow up to be spoiled obnoxious adults after they have spent their childhood annoying everyone within banshee scream radius. I am sure you know what I am talking about; the piercing, nails on a chalk board, blood pressure raising scream children use to be noticed. You know the kind that often blasts out of the face of an ignored child who is not being taught words to use.

Of course those who know me know that by discipline I don’t mean smacking the hell out of a child’s behind in public to prove you are a good parent. On the contrary calling attention to it and screaming back is a good sign of Parenting Fail.

I realize that I don’t have kids and some might accuse me of choosing the wrong subject to get on my high horse about, but this horse needed to be ridden today after the terror that was The Ultimate Bad Kid in our office. This kid was like if Chucky had a baby with Raegan (of The Exorcist fame) and was raised by screech owls in a cave.

Prospective students come in to Brown Mackie College to sit with myself or my coworkers and discuss their interest in college. Sometimes these students bring their children, and some times we giggle and play with the little darlings while their parents sign up for school. That was NOT the case today. Today my coworker had a banshee. A 2.5 year old banshee who by his age should have words and should know what the word “No” means. The one and only time that his mother looked up from the desk after the child terrorized the office for an hour was when finally one of my coworkers (Thanks, Metika) had enough and made the lady keep him in the cubicle. The clueless mom giggled (news flash lady, we DON’T think it’s cute) and held him by the arm. To this he cried, screamed, pulled her hair and fought to escape…what did she do? Well what she didn’t do was discipline him. She coddled him, told him “it is ok” and hugged him.

This is a perfect example of someone who expects society, friends, family, and trapped admissions officers to take care of their children for them. Not once did she apologize, not once did she look up when we were fussing at him about “drop the THUMB TACK’s” and “quit pulling the dirt out of the potted plant.” When asked who would watch the little demon (not his fault but he is a demon none the less) while she was in school, she replied that she had a number of people who are willing to “take my kid.”

Regarding a past employment dismissal I overheard her state “I told him, ‘you don’t have kids so you don’t understand.’” There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to begin. First of all, what if that person had tried and tried to have kids and you just poured rock salt in the wound of your BOSS? Secondly, just because you “have kids” doesn’t mean that rules at work don’t apply to you. That was your choice to get pregnant (even if it was a mistake you didn’t accidentally have sex) so you have to deal with the consequences and either take responsibility for raising another human or look into adoption. Thirdly, having kids at home doesn’t mean that your free time or personal life is more important than that of those who don’t.

Not only is it concerning that this woman’s child is disturbing an entire office full of people and she doesn’t care; it is pitiful that he was running around through the building with no one watching him. He could be hurt (again on things like THUMB TACKS) or worse. If this child were kidnapped, God forbid, then you can take a good guess who she would blame for that. We are not a day care, society is not a school and strangers should not have to tell your kid “no.” It was like trying to babysit Jack Jack from The Incredibles; I am pretty sure this kid burst into flames a few times.

Finally, if my sweet nephew cries when I watch him then my sister apologizes like fourteen times, even though she doesn’t need to. Wouldn’t you consider apologizing ONCE to an office full of ticked off strangers (who are ON THE PHONE for a living) for the fact that your Tasmanian Devil disrupted an hour and a half of their day? I sure would and then I would rethink my whole life.

Happy Birthday to Me (and Aunt Kathy!)

Happy birthday to us! 3 is my favorite number so surely 33 means something double good. Here is to hoping that the coming year brings my greatest wish. Surely won’t be quite the surprise that my parents received 33 years ago today; but that is a story for another time.

Today even though I am turning 33 and not 30, Tim McGraw’s “My Next Thirty Years” seems to be so fitting. I love the lyrics so that is about all I have to say today. Here goes:

I think I’ll take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now it’s time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years

Hey my next thirty years I’m gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things I’ve done
Maybe now I’ve conquered all my adolescent fears
And I’ll do it better in my next thirty years

My next thirty years I’m gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what I’m doing here In my next thirty years

Oh my next thirty years, I’m gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe I’ll remember my next thirty years

My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, In my next thirty years

Your using the wrong spelling

Your vs. You’re. It’s one of the most common grammar mistakes and, frankly, I just don’t get it!

Just to be clear, the way I have used “your” in the title of this blog is INCORRECT!!

If you intend to say something belongs to someone then you use “your.” For example: Those must be YOUR high heels, I don’t wear them. That annoying ring tone is coming from YOUR cell phone. I loathe YOUR improper use of grammar.

If you could easily substitute “You Are” for the intended “You’re” in the sentence then yes go ahead and use “You’re.” For example: I bet that YOU'RE looking for Grammar mistakes in this blog post. Or: YOU'RE likely to still get this wrong but I am writing about it anyway. See “You’re” is a contraction for “You Are” and they are interchangeable.

They even sound different if you are pronouncing them correctly so I don’t understand all the confusion! Now I am sure I misuse punctuation, I know I over use commas and my grammar is not always perfect; but this really is a simple one. Let’s take it on as an easily correctable society wide problem and fix it!! Stop the madness, YOU’RE driving me insane!!

Letter to Madonna

Dear Madonna,

You really need to stop talking smack about Lady Gaga. Especially smack like “She has borrowed a lot of her career from me.” If you believe that to be true then you probably have a lot of cross over fans (like me) that would prefer to like you both independently. Comments like yours only force me to put bad marks in your bucket of likeability and skew my fandom towards Gaga.

Gaga is newer, younger and hotter at this time. You need to recognize what you were (awesome performer who writes her own kick ass songs and was consistently spewing out hits for over 20 years) and what you are now (more of an icon.) That doesn’t make you any less awesome; that is until you start bashing other awesome performers who write their own kick ass songs and consistently spew out hits. Those are the similarities between your careers. If Gaga is borrowing that from you, then you borrowed it from Elton John.

Much Love,

One of your loyal fans

P.S. If the accent you have acquired is a result of living immersed among the British and is not, as some would suggest, intentionally spoken to make you sound smarter; I have had your back on that. I myself picked up quite the Kentucky twang when I was attending UK. However, I would make a point to stop it…just stop it. Mmkay?

DisneyLAND

I suddenly have a persistent desire to go to Disneyland. I don’t think it needs to be said that I LOVE Walt Disney World beyond words; WDW is home to a part of my heart that waits for me in Florida until I return. That sounds really sad, actually, but it is a good thing!!

I always felt that if I am going to go to a Disney park it should be the ones in Florida, those where my memories are attached. Walt Disney World is so much larger with four parks instead of two, dozens of hotels instead of three, etc.

However I have recently realized that a huge part of the American Disney Experience is missing for me. Disneyland is the original park; it is where Walt’s vision came alive. There are attractions and shows that I have never seen, lands that are slightly different and details that I have yet to explore!!

I looked up pictures of Disneyland today and my eyes were as wide as Mickey’s as I reviewed the attractions in store. Alice in Wonderland dark ride? Why yes, please, I have never been on that before!!!

Let me try to explain this excitement to non-Disney freaks. Imagine your favorite Sports team has been playing another additional season which you have never seen; wouldn’t you be desperate to get more of the action!? But that’s not quite the best way to describe it, hmmmm. Let’s take, say, your favorite Restaurant!! Your favorite is BW3’s and what if suddenly they have twice as many sauces to choose from, the flavors you have never tasted are endless!!! Or you are a skier, you love to ski (God love ya, I hate hurdling down hill on ice in the cold but I don’t judge) and your favorite ski resort opens up 6 additional slopes!! I think that is what they are called, slopes, lanes? Heck if I know but hopefully you get the point.

Nothing really can describe this discovery but I feel that I am being called as a pilgrim might to an unknown far away land where new adventures cloaked in familiar magic await me. I dreamed last night that I saw Sleeping Beauty Castle for the first time so I am pretty sure that is a sign from Walt that my acceptance into that great Mickey Mouse Club in the sky is pending a stroll down the Original Main Street, USA.

P.S. I know how to get someone else I know to come with me: HEY PAUL, they still have Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride!!!

Little Bird

I finally pinned Cristy down to Watch Fiddler on the Roof this weekend. I always think that I have seen it enough times to not cry for the entire last hour of the movie, but alas, my eyes are still red and burning even today. All the boohooing starts when Tevye is parting with Hodle as she leaves for Siberia on the train, “Far From the Home I Love.” But the REAL kicker is and will always be when Chava is begging Tevye to accept her, along with the song/dance sequence that follows. I am intrigued by the symbolism and messages of this entire story because they are still relevant and I am confident they will always be relevant for girls coming of age. I love when Tevye signals the Fiddler to come along with them at the end of the movie, so much meaning behind such a small gesture!!

I had a eureka moment last night as Chava stands there watching her father walk away from her, turning his back on her life. I was thinking it, and Cristy said it: “we understand your pain, Chava.” The fear she had earlier in the film has come to fruition. She was so afraid that her family would not accept her marriage to a Christian man that she was willing for a while to keep it silent. She had to face the terrible choice of family or following her heart, and was left wishing for what she couldn’t have: Both.

This part of Fiddler has always hurt my heart and made me weep deeply and heavily; but now I see myself in Chava and it is all the more painful. Before I came out to my family I was a terrified emotional wreck. Would they accept me, and even if they did would they still see me the same way? The lyrics: “you were always such a pretty little thing, everybody’s favorite child.” I can’t even type that here without tearing up. It is terribly unsettling to wonder if loved ones will continue to see you as whom you were and are or whether they will simply tolerate you now that you love someone they might not approve of.

During my coming out process (I hate that phrase because it doesn’t sound like what I did. It doesn’t describe everyone’s experience but instead generalizes, however it is the only phrase available) I felt that I would never again get to be my old self so I had to create someone new entirely. I had to find new friends, wear more masculine clothes, sit, stand or walk a certain way. I would start going out to bars again, acting crazy and rebellious. If my family and friends were going to reject me then I might as well help push them away.

Only now do I finally feel comfortable in my skin. I have the confidence that my family does love me and I have a solid group of gay friends while simultaneously staying close with some of my old friends and new straight friends, as well. I wear dresses but not heels, I have found my own style and I am proud of my current life. However I will always remember and still have that fear that I am not seen as the sweet little bird I once was; what if something ever so small has changed in me to the people I love?

Little Bird, Little Chaveleh
I don't understand what’s happening today, Everything is all a blur.
All I can see is a happy child;
The sweet little bird you were
Chaveleh, Chaveleh

Little Bird, Little Chaveleh
You were always such a pretty little thing, Everybody's favorite child.
Gentle and kind and affectionate;
The sweet little bird you were
Chaveleh, Chaveleh….

Freedom Of Speech

How To: Discuss Freedom Of Speech

Freedom of speech is the freedom to speak freely. The term freedom of expression is sometimes used synonymously, but includes any act of seeking, receiving and imparting information or ideas, regardless of the medium used.

I wanted to have a quick Freedom of Speech lesson before people get all up on Twitter and Facebook screaming about “Have you ever heard of FREEDOM of Speech, how’s come Roland Martin is in trouble for tweeting to bitch-smack all the gays in the room!!??”

Roland Martin and every other person in this country have the right to say whatever crap they want. Those inbred cult freaks from that church I don’t even like to mention cause they get enough attention, THOSE people have the right to say whatever made-up baloney they want about our American Soldiers. Mel Gibson has the right to get drunk on wine coolers and then spew off every racial and misogynistic stereotype he can think of to a police officer (but not to drive after drinking the wine coolers.) My coworker had the right to send a petty email regarding a personal disagreement to another coworker and then copy the entire department and our boss. You always have the right to say whatever the heck you want, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t have to deal with the consequences of those words.

This common misconception (that Freedom of Speech means that everyone has to be in love with everything you say) always makes me think of a Dixie Chicks concert I went to many moons ago. Ah Dixie Chicks, where have you been in my life lately? Anyway, they had a video running during one of their songs with images all relating to the topic of Freedom of Speech. One section showed angry Americans stomping on and burning Dixie Chicks CD’s and posters. See, this was right after Natalie Mains had stated how she was ashamed to be from Texas since W was also from Texas. The point of the video was that she had the right to say whatever she wanted; however their fans also have the right to not buy their music because of it.

Think of it this way, someone has a right to walk up to you, tell you that you smell like Mel’s poo truck (Hi Mel, I bet you are reading this!) and that your baby is the spawn of satan. And then you have the right to not want to be their friend anymore. Like I would ‘unfriend’ them on Facebook and probably stop texting back. Even if you want to get in the last word, just stop texting otherwise you stoop to their level and it’s just petty. Anyway…

So, since Roland Martin tweeted during the Super Bowl about how naked guys gross him out and make him violent (although now he is saying that he was just making fun of Soccer, so um, you can believe that if you want) then the pressure from GLAAD and other organizations who represent minorities can cause his employer to decide to fire or reprimand him. That is a potential consequence of his actions.

And as for those who think our Nation is getting too “Politically Correct.” Tell that to my face next time you see me. GLAAD is constantly making this country better for my friends and me to live in without getting gay-bashed at work or in our neighborhoods. I love political correctness and all those it protects. I don’t want to go back to the days when women had to listen to dudes at work talk about their Penis and/or have them ask them out. No thanks.

Prop 8

I would like for the Mormon Church (and all the other douche bags who spent money supporting Prop 8) to try to explain to hungry and poor people, or to Jesus for that matter, why in the F they thought it was a good idea to waste all that money in advertising for something that was inevitably and eventually going to be defunct anyway….

How being gay cost me $29,000

A Real Life, Actual Person, True Story Account of Why Marriage Equality is Important

Cristy and Ann live together and have for 1.5 years. They share a dog, a cat, meals, bills, sometimes clothes and, as it were, a bed. Ann works at Brown Mackie College and Brown Mackie College offers domestic partnership benefits. Yay Brown Mackie College, you rule!! This made Ann and Cristy very happy when Ann accepted this job because Cristy’s benefits through her own work are about as useful as my coat this winter (today it is 55 and sunny on February 2nd.) Happy smile faces all around! Picture the two running through a field of rainbows with giant lollypops and sunshine.

However, once Ann did the math, as she likes to do, it turns out things are not as groovy as they seemed. The Federal Government (hereto forward to be known as “Mad Old Man”) doesn’t recognize Ann and Cristy’s relationship as a Marriage or even as a Domestic Partnership. To Mad Old Man they are simply roommates who sin 2.5 times per week then go back to being roommates. Mad Old Man is even madder that Ann and Cristy could potentially enjoy benefits like Tuition Assistance and better health care like the perfect God-intended male/female couples do; so he puts a stop to their fun. TAXES!! He taxes all of the benefits that Ann and Cristy receive but not those of Adam and Eve (or Jane and Steve or Carrie and Cleve, etc, etc.) Now Ann and Cristy feel they are walking through a field of sad clowns with grey clouds overhead dumping rain only on their little gay heads. Even their dog and cat have sad faces.

If Cristy were Christopher or, say, Newt, then she could have had FREE college tuition! This would have saved Cristy and Ann $29,000 in student loans! Wowsers!! Oh wait, Cristy CAN have free college tuition because Brown Mackie College (yay!) provides that benefit to Domestic Partnerships and they have one of those. It is even notarized and everything!!

However, when factoring in Mad Old Man’s gay punishment, Ann and Cristy would have to pay taxes on the tuition at the end of the year, and they simply can’t afford that. So instead of getting free tuition for Cristy, we owe $29,000 in student loans to Mad Old Man’s cousin Sallie Mae. Mad Old Man is so mean but some of his children, most recently Washington State, are recognizing relationships of couples like Ann and Cristy. So hopefully, slowly but surely, one day all the committed couples in the Mad Old Man’s land will be happy in rainbow fields again!

The moral of this story is never let a Mad Old Man get you down. You go after him like the mob of villagers in Beauty and the Beast with pitchforks and glitter bombs (ok they didn’t have those but it would have been prettier.)

Office Memos

I love when office memos say things like: “There still seems to be some confusion regarding ____________.”

What they really mean is: “you people seem to be too dense and brain dead to comprehend this new process we have explained fourteen times so we are going to spell it out in an over-exaggerated outline form. This way we can write you up if you get it wrong one more time. Idiots.”

Pinterest

I love Pinterest! All the DIY ideas, recipes and pictures of fashion we want but can't afford are fascinating! Opening Pinterest every day is like a daily Christmas for my brain. There could be anything on there and I might find things I want, eeeeeekkkk!!! I mean there is some seriously cool shit on there; I am pretty convinced that eventually the solution to World Peace and Global Warming will pop up. However, I try to only re-pin or pin things that are actually good ideas, not just good ideas in theory.

For example, while I would agree that an old door or an old dresser can be made into millions of other things, how many of either do you actually have sitting around?

Every time I look at a Pin I have a few phases of critique.

1. Is this item relevant to me? Anything with the words “Child’s birthday party” or “bacon” gets skipped.

2. Do I think this is cool, interesting, cute or profound?

3. If the answer to number 2 is yes then I will then decide whether or not this item is useful in my day to day life and whether it is realistically doable. Also is it worth DIYing or better to just buy the darned thing somewhere (for example I recently saw a recipe for a salad that had no less than 35 ingredients.) NOT WORTH IT!

4. If the Pin would possibly be interesting to someone else then I will also decide whether to re-pin and share with the world (or with the two other people who didn’t already see the item on someone else’s board.)

What is your favorite "Pinterest!?"

How To: Use the Lanes on the Highway

This is the first in what I hope will be many blogs giving simple “How To” instructions regarding seemingly simple concepts which are apparently confusing in practice. The first topic I will discuss is the proper use of Lanes on two lane roads and highways.

1. Pass on the left, and don’t pass on the right. Thus, if a car is to the left of YOUR car when you are passing them then that is bad. I know this is confusing, so remember: The sucker you are passing is on the right, and that is right, right!?

2. If you intend to change lanes, indicate this with your turning signal (I will continue to call this a turning signal instead of turn signal because it’s cuter, even if it is inappropriate) PRIOR to changing lanes. This allows other cars around you to prepare for your upcoming lane change. It is ineffective to signal while changing lanes and it is frankly pretty prickish. (Here I am, Bitches, all up in your lane!!!)

3. The turning signal is pushed up to indicate a right turn, and down to indicate a left turn. If this becomes confusing try to imagine the steering wheel like a clock. The lever moves up around and clockwise for right, down and counterclockwise for left. Draw a pretty picture if you need to and place the diagram on your wheel instead of that peely, cracked and stained steering wheel cover. Seriously, it’s gross.

4. The frequent use of the term “Fast Lanes” for the left hand lanes has led the population to believe that the further left you are on the highway then the faster you should be going. This is incorrect. It doesn’t go: snails and drunken turtles in right lane, old people in next lane, angry commuters in next lane, and finally race car drivers on crack in far left lane. A better name for the lanes on the left is “Passing Lanes.” That is what these lanes are for is to PASS people who you wish to drive faster than. Thus, if Car A is in the far left lane passing Car B but only passing them at 65 MPH while you wish to be driving 98 MPH, this does NOT give you the right to ride Car A’s bumper, honk, gesture, moon, flash your hand gun or otherwise intimidate them. Let Car A pass Car B then you can pass both of them!! Yay!

5. It is best not to assume that another car will get out of your way if you wish to be driving where they are. You know what they say happens when we assume, it “makes an Ass out of U and Me!” And in this case it can make a bloody road pancake out of you and me and likely a few other people. Probably best to wait til all is clear.

6. If you miss your exit, proceed to the following exit, turn around and head back to your intended exit. It is not correct to fly across 3 lanes of traffic like Simba through the stampeding Antelope to barely make your exit, narrowly missing the barrier by 2.5 inches. That is simply not appropriate for obvious reasons, thank you.

7. Turning Lanes are for turning, not driving. Drive in regular lanes. Turn in turning lanes. Turning lanes have arrows in them to indicate that you can turn from them. Thus an emergency lane, although wide enough to fit your car, may not be appropriate to turn from, so look for those handy arrows.

8. Solid lines mean not to cross over them. Think of them like floating lines in the swimming pool, if you cross them you will bump your head and inhale chlorine water. But instead of bumping your head you will smash it into your steering wheel when you crash into someone who knew you were not supposed to cross the solid lines. Dotted lines mean you can cross but only if it is safe to do so. If there is a school bus full of babies flying directly at you at full speed then it’s best not to use the spotted line change option at that time.

Please feel free to add any additional instruction you may see fit. Thank you for driving safely, please keep your hands, arms, ass, middle finger, and sawed off shot gun inside the car at all times.