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I am Apostate

February 28, 2012 by

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Off the rails, as a nation we have taken our hand off the brake and are watching with morbid fascination as society runs headlong into complete collapse. I do not say this lightly, in fact I have spent a great deal of time considering the ramifications of making this statement at all. Nevertheless, I think if someone doesn’t speak up than how are we to begin to have discussions that perhaps stop the runaway train before it hits the damaged trestle and falls straight down into the abyss.

My generation was supposed to change the world. We marched with Dr. King for Civil Rights, many stood up for change even against generations of tradition within their own families. We cheered when SCOTUS found in favor of the Lovings and put an end to the miscegenation laws. We stood up and protested the Vietnam War and the meaningless deaths of our friends and family for corporate greed, yes we knew even then why war this war was being fought.

We believed in giving back and reaching out, we followed a President who believed in the same things, from this, the Peace Corp was created and we filled its ranks. My generation was supposed to change the world. We decried violence, yet saw our heroes gunned down: John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X. We recognized the threats to our ecology by our own actions and from this were born both the Sierra Club and Environmental Movement. We denounced greed and from this, the first voice for Consumer Protection rose up in Ralph Nader.

Warren Court 1962-65 Courtesy of Oyez.com

Finally our generation recognized the disparity in treatment of women in our society, from this Women’s Liberation was born in part  helped by the introduction of the Birth Control pill and the agreement of the Supreme Court that women had the legal right to control their reproductive health.

Yet here we are today, forty-three years after the end of the sixties the decade of great upheaval and dramatic social change and we are off the rails, heading for the abyss and I don’t believe we are talking about the real problems facing us.

I was twelve years old in 1969. I am grateful to those who came before me

Me 1962

and fought for the rights and privileges we
enjoy today. Those who faced jail, violence
and social condemnation so I could marry
whom I chose, pursue the career I chose,
attend the school I chose and manage my
reproductive choices and health.

I am grateful for my voice! For the voice I raised in protest of wrongs since I was old enough to understand it could be raised, I have raised it. Now though it seems my voice, all of our voices are silenced by the clatter of a much louder and insidious blast of sound, the counting of coins. We are convinced now our value is only counted by the zero’s behind the dollar signs or diminished by their lack.

What has happened? It isn’t any one thing, instead it must be a concoction of many parts that have come together to form a toxic brew we are willingly imbibing.

1969 War Protest Image Courtesy of Wikipedia

Why are we so willing to sit back in silence? So willing to hand over privileges and rights to those who have no dog in the fight beyond their own self-glorification and this they have certainly done nothing to earn. Why are we not standing on the steps of Congress and the White House, flooding the streets in protest and demanding our voices be heard above the braying of the obnoxious and hate filled rhetoric of the ideologues streaming through every media outlet today.

I ask this question, yet I am afraid of the answer. I am afraid because the answer might be we view political grandstanding as simply another form of entertainment. We enjoy the show and have forgotten in our lethargy it is not entertainment; it is in fact our future, it is in fact the hand on the brake. The posturing of all those who would be king, is more than entertainment it is the fuel that will break us as a nation, turning friends into enemies and dividing families. The bombastic language combined with ideologies that barely mask the intent to divide us is frightening more because of what it says about our acceptance of open hostility against those unable to defend themselves.

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Our attention is misdirected and we allow it! We seem content to watch as our options are stripped from us, our opportunities vanish and our voices are silenced under the weight of our exhaustion and our debt. To speak up and speak out will soon mean to be Apostate, perhaps there will be a stake awaiting me in the village square. Nevertheless, I simply cannot sit silent and motionless on a runaway train, can you?

Filed Under: Politics, Society Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Gossip Ghouls

February 26, 2012 by

I have been sitting on this for days, noodling it in fact. Holding it up, shaking it like a snow globe, watching as the thoughts swirl about in my mind. Problem is I keep coming to the same awful conclusion, we have disintegrated

DangerousCreation.com Image

into spectators of the very worst kind, we are ghouls.

What happened to the notion that some things are private, reserved for the privacy of our homes, for behind our bedroom doors? What hiccup in our social norms has occurred making the propagation of the very worst in human foibles and weaknesses provender for our rubbernecking. How is that we have created an entire group of do nothing and know nothing celebrities simply based upon their complete and utter lack of discretion.

Shouldn’t our lives be segregated into what is appropriate or proper for public consumption and what is more appropriate behind the doors of our homes or locked gates of hospitals? I ask this question in all seriousness, without an iota of snark anywhere. I ask this after having been blinded, my eyes bleeding traumatized by the view of Khloe Kardashian and her husband Lamar Odom and their bedroom antics and ultimately epic failure attempting to spice up their marriage with a sex swing.  Gad, really did I need to see this? In an innocent search for something completely different, I promise I wasn’t searching for –

Sex Swings, Swinging Sex, Swings, Sex, Khloe, Kardashian, Lamar, Odom or even EPIC FAIL

I don’t even remember what my search parameter was that brought the pictures to my screen.

Why I ask did I need to see this in graphic detail? Apparently, it wasn’t enough for them to share the intimate details of their marriage bed. Nor was it enough to know of their purchase, or that they felt their sex life needed a lift? Did I need to be entertained informed of their actual attempts at the use of their new bedroom toy and their ultimate failure to use it properly?

I then am reminded the entire reason the Kardashian sisters are even in the public eye, is the ‘leaked’ sex tape of Kim Kardashian and some person named Ray J, the less talented younger sibling of Brandy. I am further reminded this is not the first ‘infamous’ celebutante who made her name with an accidental sex tape release (Paris Hilton).

Again, what happened to discretion?

We are a nation of voyeurs, so focused on the antics of the famously dysfunctional that we have created an entirely new genre of ‘entertainment’. We are fascinated by Reality Television—

 
  • Real Housewives of (pick)
  • Sister Wives
  • Jersey Shores
  • Teen Mom
  • Jon and Kate + 8
  • The Bachelor
  • Keeping up with the Kardashians
  • Simple Life

The list goes on and on, I counted over one hundred (100) ‘Reality’ shows on the list I found. Everything from dating to weight loss, nothing absolutely nothing was off-limits.

The famous for being famous, the once famous and now infamous and everything in-between are fodder for our insatiable need for prurient fulfillment. Have our lives become so lacking in color, or is there something else at

P.T. Barnum courtesy of Wikipedia

work? Are we so jaded the only thing that diverts us is the catastrophes of other lives. Have we become so cynical we will pay to watch in living color the lives of other people spin out of control, we will laugh as their disasters pile up one after another and their lives hit the skids for all of us to marvel at. We applaud their train wrecks, happy it is them not us.

Our entire entertainment industry has become one huge freak show the likes of which P.T. Barnum would have been envious of. I on the other hand am dismayed and continue to ask, what are we come to, what are we becoming?

Are we toxic?

Filed Under: Society Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Dust Up

February 20, 2012 by

I am having serious problems with my house; it is scaring me, causing me sleepless nights even. Really, I am having terrible problems with my house. It keeps getting dirty without any overt action on my part. I have evil nasty gremlins who take pleasure in my slow descent into insanity. I am certain of this; positive in fact there are malevolent Dust Bunny wranglers living in the vents of my house.

First let me say I am a bit retentive, anally retentive that is, about my environment. I need my house to be clean, things put back where they belong, where I put them originally. I do not like disorder in my environment; it makes me a bit demented truthfully. Okay, enough about me and back to my obvious problem with the evil Dust Bunny wranglers and my dirty house.

   It is clear to me this is what comes out at   night to ruin my morning.

Sure, it might be the dog or for that matter the cats. It might even be my intense dislike of laundry; really I do have a deep fear of dirty clothing, it goes along with my abiding hatred of ironing anything. It could be that as I age my standards have relaxed, I am not as retentive as I once was not so controlling. I don’t think this is it though, in fact I know this is not the case based on my reaction each morning when I find myself surrounded by cobwebs, muddy paw prints and those daunting dust bunnies.

I have studied the problem in depth, sitting in my living room watching my cats chase the self-animated dust bunnies across the floor. Truthfully, I am mesmerized by the paw prints across my floor, often thinking to myself, “I should have more closely matched the colors so they don’t make me so crazed.” I have considered never eating from the beautiful dinnerware or using the ‘good’ stainless utensils again, thus avoiding kitchen clean up.

There are a number of other ideas that cross my mind with regularity in my quest to stop the madness of my house running contrary to my desire for order and cleanliness, unfortunately when I have suggested them to my husband this is the look he gives me.

Is he wrong? Is there a possibility I am simply being overly nitpicky? The answer is yes I am without doubt being a bit overly sensitive to my surroundings and the gremlins that are destroying my sanity. I accept even that I am making my husband a bit crazed now and then. I can’t help myself; despite this; I am unable to stop my neurosis.

I sought exterminators for the Gremlin Wranglers, did you know I am the only one with this problem. No one has the solution to these insidious and nasty little beasts.

So what to do?

I have considered giving up hobbies, I could stop my forays into social media and the occasional debates on church and state I enter into, but if I were to do this where would I release my aggravations? If I did this only my husband would suffer, he would be my only remaining target.

I could abjure all forms of writing and the research I do for some of my writing projects. This would solve another problem, the dust bunnies would have one less place to hide, the Gremlin Wranglers one less frontier to conquer (my bookshelves). Were I to take this option my mind would atrophy, I am nearly certain of this, many of my friends wouldn’t like me any longer (maybe this isn’t true) and I would no longer be the woman my husband married (he may see this as a blessing, I will have to ask).

Finally, I could stop working outside of the home, give up my career, stop earning a paycheck and devote all my time to household duties and tasks. Palm meet face…this would not serve the purpose intended, for more reasons than I can count ($$$$$).

This leads me to only one conclusion I need help. I need a housekeeper, someone who can confront the Dust Bunnies, dog tracks, laundry and my neurosis with a small smile and a shake of her head.

Bradyworld Image

Filed Under: Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Faces of Beauty

February 4, 2012 by

I find I needed to return to the issues surrounding women and our fascination with beauty, more importantly society’s fascination with it. This is particularly important to me, as a woman in my 50’s, not even my early 50’s but hitting the very center of the mark this year. I look at our world, the young women who represent ‘beauty’ in the media and realize it is a rare thing indeed for one of them to be a natural beauty, to not have had some part of themselves changed in some way shape or form. By the time they hit thirty they are already chasing ‘wrinkles’ and in fear of aging.

What? Really? It just makes me want to shake them by their shoulders till their brains rattle, but then I think to myself, it is very likely their brains are already rattled and my intervention would do little to no good.

There was a time we venerated beauty in its natural state, with a fair degree of variety and acceptance there were differences among us. Every nose wasn’t perfectly straight and narrow, every face wasn’t perfectly symmetrical; indeed part of what defined beauty was its uniqueness. This is not to say they weren’t helped along by great lighting, perfectly applied make-up and of course, tight foundation pieces, they were nonetheless beautiful.

       

 Gina Lollabrigida (sodahead image)

  Barbara Stanwyck (sodahead image)  Lauren Becall     (sodahead image)

 Betty Grable       (sodahead image)

Something has been so firmly entrenched in our psyche over the last few decades we believe the hype, we believe we can stop time, stop gravity and if we don’t do so we will be somehow “less”. Now we have so corrupted our standard, so devalued women in their natural beauty many of us will do anything to stave off aging and pursue a version of perfection that leaves us disfigured forever.

     
  

 Lisa Rinna          (Sodahead image)

  Priscila Presely   (Sodahead image)  Jenna Jameson (BestandWorst Image)

 Dontella Versace      (zinbio Image)

We come to a time when even young women willingly inject a homogenized form of Botulism into their faces, that’s right a lab created version of the Black Death, into their faces in the hope of staving off the natural progression of age. What is wrong with society that we have gone to such lengths to convince an entire gender they are simply not good enough as they are and by doing so not only stripped them of their confidence but created a billion dollar industry.

Consider, though created in labs this is in fact what we inject into our bodies in pursuit of youth and beauty.

 
Five days after sustaining a compound fracture of his right arm, this 14-year-old boy noticed that he had blurred vision. Four days later, he could not swallow, move his lips, or protrude his tongue. Other findings inc)http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Botulism1and2.JPG

Honestly, give me a bit of growing old gracefully and with a small bit of panache. Maybe even a little vinegar and vim. Let me please, just be able to squeeze my jiggly parts into some spandex and even if I have to lower the number of inches on my heels, let me still be able to put my feet into them and sashay for special occasions please. Let me not be so afraid to age I inject poisons into my proof of a life lived, freezing my face forever into a portrait straight out of Madam Tussauds Wax Museum.

In fact, let me emulate a true woman and lady:

   

 Betty White, 1955 (Sodahead Image)

 Betty White, 2010 (Wikipedia Image)

Let me count my wrinkles with relish, enjoying that I earned them! I did stupid things before I knew they were stupid, playing in the sun, riding my bike down steep hills and building sand castles on beaches so I could watch the rolling waves wash them away. I traveled, often getting lost in strange cities only to find the greatest bistros and bars. I drank Mescal straight from the bottle on star lit pyramids in Mexico, even eating the worm once. I have a antique sea chest filled with photo albums of nearly 40 years of life lived, life that is etched into memory and will someday be etched into my face and other body parts. A body that has already certainly felt the affects of gravity much to my constant dismay.

I ask only that I age gracefully in heart and spirit, retaining some humor please. Maybe also this, when I am finally tired.

Front Porch Ideas (Image)

Filed Under: Women Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Lost in Transformation

February 2, 2012 by

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That first rush of infatuation, the giddiness of a new relationship. It is like riding a tilt-a-whirl at the carnival, up and down, faster and faster and then the sudden stop. The world comes crashing in and down around us.

Does he like you as much as you like him? Is he the one? Are you the one for him? What should you do, how much should you do? What does he like? Who can you ask that will tell you his likes and dislikes with precision so you can follow a script to his heart. When will he call again? Should you call him? How many texts a day are too many? His last girlfriend was a blond, should you bleach your hair? His last two girlfriends had big tata’s, does this mean he is definitely a breast man, how do yours measure up? Should you ask him or just get a new rack as a surprise, how much does that cost anyway.

STOP…..are you insane or have you simply forgotten yourself in the rush to find a mate.

Do you find you have suddenly stopped girls’ night out? Are your friends wondering where you are or worse who you are because when they call you these days you rush them off the phone to keep the line free while you wait for him to call. This is a sure sign you have begun the slow descent into the strange and horrifying world of lost personalities and lives, that place where you leave yours at the door called ‘relationship’.

Linger too long in this bleak alternative universe and it is a hard road back into the life you left behind. Worse yet, the partner you are pursuing might not join you in that desolate place you have stumbled into; you may be on a lonely excursion. What were you thinking when you made the decision to forget yourself, your friends and even your family excluding them from your life in favor of your newfound paramour? Did he ask for this sacrifice or is it just your way of showing him your dedication and love.

If you remember the list from the first in this series, Chasing Perfection several of the items on that list had a consistent theme:

  1. Giving up our own life (family, friends and interests)
  2. Lack of Ambition or Sacrificing Ambition
  3. Not being our authentic selves
  4. Trying to change ourselves, worse trying to change him

These are clearly woven together into a single strand and for those of us who transform ourselves in our desperate attempts to be loved and accepted we are ultimately lost to ourselves and those who truly loved us just as we were. So what happened? Where did we detour on the road to self-actualization, personal ambition and fulfillment in favor of what can only be termed emotional thralldom.

Before going further, it is important to sweep out the notion that we are talking of those circumstances brought on by abusive partners. Those partners who isolate you from society and strip you of self-esteem, financial support and personal ambition do so to enable their abuse. While it is true if we see the early signs and don’t run, we are enablers through our continued presence. Usually abuse of this nature is slow and stealthy. The abusive relationship has an entirely different pathology and one that we won’t delve into here.

Lost in Transformation

The phone rings and you don’t answer unless it is him. How many Friday nights have you waited for him to call? When did you determine his phone call was more important than chatting with your friends or for that matter a

ZelDaily.com Image

Saturday of shopping? You use to take on special projects at work, sometimes working late nights or over the weekend to complete them; this represented opportunity for you to advance in your chosen career. Now your boss wonders if you are ill, perhaps have a brain tumor because not only aren’t you volunteering for special projects your regular work is suffering and you are out like you have rocket fuel under your heels at 5:00pm sharp.

You are making clear choices in your life, giving up yourself your friends and your personal ambitions to mold yourself to someone else. Ask yourself, did that person ask for these sacrifices? Are you far enough along in a relationship where these sacrifices are warranted? Is there any clarity to your thinking in making these changes, who are you becoming and in this becoming how authentic are you now?

The person you were when you went on your first date who was that person? Isn’t that who was attractive to the man you are now changing your cosmos for? Will he still be attracted once you change yourself completely into who you believe he wants?

Do you honestly believe in making the changes you will somehow, some way retain your true and authentic self or is that less important than gaining the man?

How happy will you be once you have converted entirely to a shadow of the person you once were to gain the esteem and love of a man you barely know and who will now never know you.

Red has done a marvelous piece on Self-Actualization and I recommend a stop at her shop to participate in this discussion.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Chasing Perfection

January 31, 2012 by

How many women err on the side either of caution or of recklessness when we begin new relationships?

Venus & Mars Dance

I was speaking to my dear friend, Red, yesterday and we identified our initial list of potential sure to fail strategies we have either executed ourselves or seen our friends and family undertake in their pursuit of happiness. Our list grew throughout the day as she polled her vast Facebook army. By the end of the day there were so many it will be impossible to address them all individually!

There were some common themes though, in no particular order (yet) here are the top deal killers.

  1. Giving up our own life (family, friends and interests)
  2. Playing mind games (manipulation)
  3. Carrying our baggage into the new relationship (matching luggage though might be fine)
  4. Suffocating the new relationship or person
  5. Nagging
  6. Chasing Perfection (are any of us perfect)
  7. Lack of Ambition or Sacrificing Ambition
  8. Money Honey (keeping some of our own)
  9. Beginning a new relationship to soon
  10. Not being our authentic selves
  11. Moving too fast (sex, I love you and all that jazz)
  12. Not hearing what is said (Listening with our ears instead of our notions)
  13. Failing at trust and failing to trust
  14. Talking about the previous relationship or ex ad infinitum
  15. Trying to change ourselves, worse trying to change him

Number 1 on the hit parade seems to be ….Chasing Perfection

AKA

Building the Perfect Mate in Your Mind and Leaving no Room for Adjustment

It is my suspicion that many of the others fall under this one. Nevertheless, to start the ball rolling let’s explore our propensity to build our Dream Man, our Perfect Mate and our seemingly constant desire to mold our latest and greatest into that icon of flawlessness.

The Faceless Prince

When we are little girls we dream of our wedding day, we have a picture in our mind of what we will wear, how many attendants we will have and even what colors we will use. We see the groom standing at the front of the church in our fantasy wedding; usually he is one big tuxedo with a blank face. As we enter our teen years our imagined wedding matures with us, of course. We now have access to greater fodder to fill our minds, including the blank that is our future groom. No longer is his face blank, no indeed now he looks like our latest crush either the school hunk or the latest movie idol to hit the market. We sigh; we sign our names on multiple pages of our notebooks “Mrs. TwiddleTwaddle”.

Eventually we grow up, we reach some magical age of maturity where we recognize that Sir TwiddleTwaddle is unlikely to sweep us off our feet and marry us; or do we? Indeed, it is almost certain most of us have not only by now filled in the blank face of our childhood

Princess Bride Forever (image)

but have also made a list of attributes we require of our future mate, some of which may be non-negotiable. In keeping with the idea that we have defined our perfect mate, identified all his required characteristics, filled every last portion of his personality with our desires, I must ask is there any man that will fulfill our wish list? Will we always be settling in our heart and mind for ‘less than’? Is this what any man who enters our sphere of influence has to look forward to when they hope for a relationship with us? Really, are we always going to be this hard to please or have we left some room in there for our future mate to be their own authentic selves and for us to be happy they are there without equivocation?

There are certainly some things that are non-negotiable or should be at least. From the very beginning of a relationship we should be able to nix any of the following as deal breakers:

  1. Abuse of any kind – kick this one to the curb immediately and without thinking twice if he is verbally abusive it will without doubt escalate eventually. Run; don’t walk to the nearest exit.
  2. Liars – if someone will lie to you early in a relationship, whether on the big stuff or the small stuff, they will always lie to you. See the exit sign over the door, yes the one that is flashing red; make your way to it and leave now.
  3. Cheaters – if you agreed between you to exclusivity and he failed during the early days of your relationship, he won’t change. Forgive him, sure it is always nice to be forgiving nevertheless, get out he isn’t going to stop cheating.

Those are my own hot spots, there are surely more and likely others can add theirs.

The real point is though; men and women are imperfect in their design. If we have built up our perfect mate there will be no one who will measure up, no opportunity for us to explore our options and find that person that just might be perfect for us rather than simply perfect. If we shut the door there will be no opportunity for us to find that future mate that brings their life lessons and experiences, ones that balance ours and help us to live more fully together than apart. If we fail to open the door to imperfection we lose our chance at future love.

More on common themes in future posts, for now I think I will end this with one other thought; when we find that imperfect possibility and our first thought is how we can change them we have already lost.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Staying in Bed

January 19, 2012 by

There are simply days when you don’t want to get out of bed, feed the dog, pet the cat or say hello to the world.

There are days when it feels as if you have been kicked in the shins one to many times and frankly, your knees hurt!

I am having one of those days today, my knees hurt. So does my back, my neck, hell even my fingers hurt. Now I don’t usually complain, certainly I don’t complain about all the things on my body that hurt me. I don’t complain about all the things that don’t work any longer. I don’t complain about all the things that don’t move the way they are supposed to move or in the direction they are supposed to go. Well, perhaps that isn’t entirely true, there are some people that hear what hurts, I hope not too often though.

There are some days when it just seems I shouldn’t have to get out of bed. In fact the only reason I do is I need coffee, a smoke and if I don’t move I am afraid I might never do so again.

I have had a particularly bad month. It happens this way sometimes when you work for yourself, but this month has simply been particularly bad. I know I am good at what I do, I am not inflexible or hard to get along with – this month I have been accused of both, by a customer no less! I do not use my hidden disability for special treatment; in fact I keep it to myself (the reason for the second accusation) unless asked and pay the price. I tell people what they need to know and only what they need to know so they understand why I do certain things and can’t do others.

While there is a three-month history leading up to the loss of two customers, two projects, actually nearly a twenty-year history now, for some reason this is hitting me hard. I am questioning myself, my abilities, my capabilities and even whether I have the wherewithal to continue on the road I have set for myself.

There are some days when I just want to stay in bed; today is one of those days. I think this week has been one of those weeks.

There are some days when I feel more than justified that I haven’t forgiven those that did so much harm to me, to my body. Days like today when I know every single day for the rest of my life I will hurt and I will have to demand of myself that I get out of bed and convince myself it is worth it, because it is better to live with pain than not to live at all.

Then I think, but I don’t have an income because I lost two projects, not because I am bad at my work but because my body gave out, again. Because I couldn’t work within the travel constraints a client placed; of course had they told me up front I wouldn’t have taken the project in the first place and I wouldn’t be in this position, but that is a different issue all together. I lost one project because someone rear-ended me and what someone else would have likely walked away from I received significant injury and had weeks of treatment for.

There are days, sometimes weeks when I wonder if survival is all it is cracked up to be.

There are some days that simply suck.

Filed Under: Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Flying with Children

January 17, 2012 by

I find myself sitting in airport lounge areas frequently. They are mostly the same, though some of the newer airports have upgraded their lounge areas with massage chairs, Wi-Fi, conversation nooks and other things to make the wait not quite so tedious. I don’t care about any of these things; give me a chair close to the boarding area with a view of those who I will be flying with, that is my only requirement. Sounds odd doesn’t it? I have my reasons.

Ill Mannered Imps and their Minders

Scanning the airport lounges allows me to identify the worst of the worst, out-of-control children. These children usually between the ages of four and ten who have failed to learn basic social skills. They scream, throw their toys, demand attention from their parents and strangers. They run through the lounge tripping over carry-on bags and even tripping other travelers as they attempt to navigate the terminal and the lounge. Their voices are akin to nails on blackboards as they screech their demands.

They are not angels. They are not sweet cherubs. They are YARD APES. Their parents often have that faraway look, one seen usually on soldiers returning from war or victims of crime. It is these imps of destruction that can and usually do ruin trips for at least those in their immediate vicinity on a plane. They kick the back of seats; they twist and turn, look over at their neighbors with ugly faces, talk to neighbors unceasingly, throw food and otherwise act in ways that prove children are born horrifyingly unmannered.

Worse than the children though are the parents who fail to take those urchins of the netherworld under control.

One of my favorites –

I had boarded the plane from Brussels to Houston, it’s a long trip but I had upgraded to first class and so I was looking forward to a somewhat pleasant flight. This was long before the time of beds in first class and better food. I was in seat 1A, bulkhead window. Suddenly, oh no my worst nightmare a woman sits down beside me with a small child, small as in approximately 18-months. Her husband takes the seat across the aisle. Thinking I was being kind, I offered him my seat so they could be together during the flight, no they said they had planned it this way so he could work during the flight without being disturbed. What?

The mother plans on holding her child throughout the nine hour flight, in the meantime the child is on the floor playing while the announcement to prepare for take-off is blaring. Flight attendants walk through the aisles not once, not twice but four times telling this mother to pick up her child so we can take off. Each time she does the child shrieks and the mother puts her back on the floor, finally I offer to hold her so she can look out the window, which solves the problem, she doesn’t shriek we take off and all is quiet in first class. Does mom offer to take the child back? Well no, in fact when drink service begins she and dad order drinks and start chatting while their infant calmly stays on my lap. I had to tap her on the shoulder and hand the bad baby back explaining that they made the decision to not buy a seat or bring a nanny with them, they had the responsibility to entertain and keep their child quiet and if it disrupted their travel, tough.

It was a miserable flight! Screaming, diaper changes and other disgusting disruptions (Dad wasn’t bothered though).

This is one of the reasons I firmly believe children under the age of fourteen do not belong in First Class, ever and under any circumstance.

I have many other stories of the misery of travel which I will share from time to time. Some are children in the air. Some are simply horrible airline service. Hope you will join me in my travels around the world.

Filed Under: Flying Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Whats Love Got to Do With It?

January 7, 2012 by

The dress is back from the cleaners packed in a box for some future when your daughter will say, “Mom it is so old fashioned I want to pick my own dress”. The pictures framed and scattered throughout your first home. The thank you notes are written to all the kind people who provided you with blenders, toasters and other small appliances you have yet to return or figure out uses for. Your tan is fading and frankly, it is time to return to real life.

You’re married! That ring on your left hand announces to the world you are officially off the market. Do you wear your ring? Does your spouse where his / hers, if not why not?

The strangeness of married life, even for long-term couples takes some adjustments. People may treat you differently now. During the early days of your marriage, you may find yourself resenting some of questions that come your way, such as;

How about joining us for a few beers after work tonight? Why don’t you call your husband / wife to make sure it is okay with them?

What? You’re an adult; you don’t need permission have a couple of beers after work. Think though, is this simple phone call asking permission or is it common courtesy extended to your spouse.

Another thing you may find happening is you aren’t invited to the boys / girls night out events you were once part of. Now that you are part of a married couple, your single friends may not feel comfortable inviting you. Perhaps these events were ‘hunting’ expeditions and now that you are off the market, your presence isn’t as welcome as it once was.

Yes, some of your friends may drop away. Don’t worry you will make other friends. Married friends, you will meet them over time and form new bonds. Some of your single friends of course will remain and as they pair up their new partners will join the elite circle of Married.

So what does love have to do with all of this? Marriage is the choice we make to bond with that one person who makes our heart race and feel at peace all at the same time. Despite our personal idiosyncrasies, despite our flaws we make the choice to live with, fight with, love with this single person for our lifetime.

Love has everything to do with it!

We agreed, even if we didn’t understand how marriage would change us, we knew we wanted to be with this person. We agreed we were going to walk side-by-side for our lifetime, even if we didn’t understand that there would be some unplanned loss of ‘independence’. Love has everything to do with our choice and everything to do with how we conduct ourselves from here forward. Love informs our actions, every day of our married life; whether it is a great day or a bad day love informs our choices and decisions.

While I believe there are always compromises, they are not compromises of self nor are they sacrifices. Love has everything to do with how successful marriages are made and sustained over time. Love of self and love of our partner. Once the bliss of the wedding is behind us the scales fall from our eyes, we discover marriage is hard work. Putting the person we love in front of us as  we make decisions, helps us to make informed decisions that are good for our marriage and prevent us from reverting to the selfish behavior and decision-making of our single life.

Marriage is hard sometimes; Love is Easy.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Tales from the Air

January 3, 2012 by

Farts on the Airplane

There is probably nothing worse than someone with uncontrollable gas in the tight confines of an airplane. Certainly they are embarrassed by their overactive digestive track and their own stupidity at eating foods that would cause their active flatulence.

Let me give some advice. There are some foods that lend themselves to greater amounts of flatulence than others. This is due to the types of sugars they contain, the body CANNOT effectively break these sugars down and thus they produce gas which travels to your nether regions ultimately producing noxious fumes. If you know you will be flying, do yourself and your fellow passengers a favor avoid these foods!

Beans, Cauliflower, Cabbage, Raisins, Milk (especially for those with lactose intolerances) and yes the all-important BEER.

Elbows and other Sharp Objects

I once had a man (not what you are thinking you are so dirty minded) seated next to me in those big comfy First Class Seats. This man must have seen that I was more blessed than the average woman with pair of breasts that might be the envy of a Playboy Centerfold. Perhaps in his fevered fantasy he believed this meant they were public property, since they took more space than was normal. Whatever the case may be, I once had a man and he had a plan.

Our flight to Dallas was looking to be a long one, with plenty of turbulence and stormy skies. I had already taken my seat, 1B aisle bulkhead left side of the plane. When he arrived he first glared at me, as if to say; “what are you doing in this section of the plane?” Admittedly, back then there were few women flying in First during what was considered the Friday specials, business flights back to Dallas on American. Add to this I was already in my standard Jeans, cowboy boots and tee. But then my Man with a Plan noticed my assets and his gears turned. He sat his happy self down, pulled out his Wall Street Journal leaned to the right, taking more than half our ample arm rest as his own, and ordered his Scotch and Soda before take-off. Then the fun begin……….

Turn page one, right hand grabs page turns and shakes landing squarely against the edge of my breast. I think nothing of it. A few minutes go by and time to turn the next page; oddly the exact same action produces the same result. “Excuse me, my breast isn’t public property and your attention isn’t welcome. Would you mind keeping your elbow on your side of the arm rest and your hands to yourself, please”, said as nice as possible and looking directly at the Man with the Plan. He smirked, moved slightly to the left and started reading again. A few more minutes pass (he reads slowly) and the same exact thing happens, fortunately the two gentlemen across the aisle see it this time, so when I turn and tapped him and said, ‘The next time you touch my breast I am going to break your ribs and it will be self-defense’, they concurred. Again he smirked and this time he didn’t move.

Five more minutes, he readies himself for another page turner and a free feel. I ready myself as well, I am watching for him how. He turns the page and this time takes a slow linger down the side of my left breast as if daring me to follow through with my threat. Boy did he challenge the wrong Texas girl, I pulled back my elbow and delivered a blow to his ribs that knocked the wind from his lungs and bent him over in his seat. When he could breathe again the first thing he did is push the call button and when he Flight Attendant arrived he demanded the police meet the plane in Dallas and arrest me for assault. She asked me what had occurred and I explained the situation. She asked the nice gentlemen across the aisle what they had seen and their story agreed with mine. She offered him a choice;

  1. She could have the police meet the plane and he would be arrested. I might be also, but it is likely the charges would be dropped against me.
  2. He could change seats with someone and forget the entire incident assuming I was willing to do so and someone was willing to change seats with him.

He took option two and the rest of the flight was quite pleasant. He called me a Bitch as he was moving his bags, I agreed.

Thus we have two tales of many of my time in the air. Farts on a plane, well that is on-going and frequent. Elbows that is a true story from about ten years ago.

Filed Under: Flying Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,
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