Oh, hello! Come in and have a Caramelized Apple Tart* and some coffee.
My rant today is about the media. And all the time that is wasted on stupid stuff.
Do any of us REALLY care about Jon and Kate? About her new stupid hair-do? About his girlfriend? What about Misha Barton having a meltdown? Or how much the First Lady’s sneakers cost?
I freely admit that I look at the headlines on the tabloids. I even buy a People magazine on occasion. (I used to subscribe, but thought it was a waste of money for something that could be read in about 10 minutes.) I am not “above” reading about celebrity crap.
But OMGoat! Enough! Give us the “big” stories – who is getting married/divorced, who had a baby, who died. I don’t need to know about every time Kate Hudson goes to a baseball game. Or Lindsey Lohan goes shopping. Or Matthew McConahay goes running. There has to be something more important going on in the world than the fact that Kanye pulled another assholish move and dissed Taylor Swift. Let me think… OH! that’s right! There’s a friggin war in Afghanistan (among other places) and we (Americans, among other countries) have troops (sons, daughters, husbands, wives, parents) there.
And as far as the President goes? The complaining about him screwing up the country started BEFORE he even took office. Really? Can the complainers see into the future?? And where can I buy that skill? Like him or hate him, agree with him or don’t, but Judas H. Priest! Give the guy a fair chance to phuck everything up before you burn him in effigy! I would expect that of ANY president, regardless of the political party to which they belong. And to sit and analyze EVERY SINGLE THING HE DOES – mostly on the stuff not “Oh, by the way, I’m running the country” related, is childish and petty. Analyze the big decisions. Call your Congress and Senate representatives about that stuff. Don’t bitch because the First Family is wealthy and Mrs. Obama can afford, and chooses to wear, $500 sneakers. I may think it’s stupid to pay that much too, but if she has the money and wants them? LET HER.
Jesus Christ. Move on. Let’s get out of the weeds and focus on the big issues. There are plenty of wonderful charities doing great works all over the planet. Find out more about them. Read to the elderly. Teach someone to read. Go for a walk. But, please. Just stop with the inane blathering of all things inconsequential. There’s too much noise in the world already. Maybe we can help quiet it.
*Recipe for tarts:
How to Prepare: Take one pastry shell (half), layer on cheesecake, add 3-4 apple slices, then drizzle with caramel.
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Oh hello! Just popping back in to ask a question. Have some Pop Rocks in honor of that.
Why is it that I KNOW the benefits of exercise and how good it is for you? I KNOW that I always feel better after exercising? The post-exercise fatigue? I like that too.
Then why is it that I am so loathe to do it? It’s too easy to just veg out on the sofa. Or read a book. Or sleep. What is it going to take to kick myself in the ass and exercise regularly?
Ideas welcome. 🙂
Oh, hello! Have some tea. And sugar cookies.
I think it would be an affront to feet everywhere if I said what I have are feet. Or soles of my feet. No, I think it’s safe to qualify what I have as hooves.
These? are my feet. I’ll wait while you go hurl…
Back when I pretended to have money, I would get myself a pedicure every 2 weeks. It kept them soft and pretty. Then, when I realized that I really didn’t have money, that stopped. I bought the Ped-egg to scrape down the worst parts and, while I do like it, if you don’t do it very consistently, the hoof-ness can get away from you. Add to that that I prefer Dansko clogs (mostly due to my foot issues – I would love to wear hot sexy heels all the time. Alas, tooties aren’t cooperating). These shoes are unbelieveably comfortable, but they are conducive to calluses. I even bought something called “Crack Creme” but mostly due to the fact that the name made me giggle.
Tonight, I broke out the big guns. Bag Balm. And socks. I don’t know if it will work, but I’m desperate. If anyone has any other suggestions, I’m willing to give them a try!
Oh, hello! We’re having Mediterranean Veggie Sammies today – with cilantro hummus. Have one.
Do you wish? Not just on birthday candles, or about big things. I mean about anything. Do you ever find yourself saying “I wish I could…”?
Reading the lovely Jose’s blog (found at http://www.fabergemonkey.com/) I found myself thinking, “I wish I could write poetry. It doesn’t even have to be lovely poetry.” I’ve said in the past: I wish I could…
- speak French
- run without my knees hurting
- lose 5-, 10-, 25-, 50-pounds
- live in Paris
- save money
- blah blah blah
I guess the real thing I have to ask myself is “Why can’t I…” I’ll tell you why. I can’t because I think I can’t. I bet if I changed it to “I am going to…”, that after a few false starts, I would be doing whatever it is I put my mind to.
I wish it were Friday. I wish it were sunny. I wish I had a better/different/easier/more challenging job. I wish I had bought that bag/shirt/wallet/perfume. I wish it were 5pm. I wish I could drink/stop drinking/smoke/stop smoking.
Does any of that sound like you? What are we waiting for? Why are we wishing our lives away?
On the other hand, does wishing give you hope? Is it a form of prayer? Does it give you something to look forward to? Or does it deny hope by reminding you of what you don’t have? What you lack? What you only think you want – regardless if it is really the best thing for you?
Do you wish?
Oh, hello! Chips and salsa, with guacamole? Help yourself.
**DISCLAIMER: This is only my opinion. Don’t sue me.***
I used to be a huge fan of Oprah. I was one of her sheep. I saw the show where she first revealed her big weight-loss. Remember that wagon full of fat? I followed along with her book club. I read her choices religiously. But I stopped… my goat, those books were SO depressing!!
Then she came out with her magazine. The magazine where she herself is on the cover, EVERY FRIGGIN MONTH! The magazine where she forgot her poor roots and now continually advertises $1,000 watches, and $500 blankets, all as things that her faithful flock “need” to have.
Then she “gave” everyone in her audience a car. She didn’t pay for them. And these people all had to pay the taxes etc on the cars. Some gift.
And finally, there was her on-air character assassination of James Frey. Yes, his book was published as a memoir, and contained fictional parts. But, if that book helped even ONE person turn their life around, then really. Who cares? It was an interesting story, and he deserved good publicity. He did NOT deserve to be humiliated on national television.
Bottom line? In my opinion, Ms. Winfrey does not do anything that doesn’t benefit her in some way. She also doesn’t do anything without making sure the entire world knows about it. Nothing she does is altruistic or selfless. She has lost sight of her roots, her humble beginnings, where she started. I truly admire what she has been able to accomplish – she is one of the most famous people in the world. And I get why people love her. Sort of.
But there is more to life than money. There is more to life than paying people to like you. More and more of her shows are about the famous, the rich. Her famous friends. The famous doctors. It’s not about who she can help anymore. It’s about her. And only her. She doesn’t deserve the adulation. She doesn’t deserve the worship. And, in my opinion, it’s disgusting.
Oh, hello! Pull up a chair and help yourself to some fresh cut pineapple.
I spent today with my mother. She wanted to go to one of the local discount stores for material. She makes the most gorgeous quilts, and she had a new pattern to get material for. I was her designated chauffeur. Then we were going to lunch and the yarn store, because she also knits like a pro.
My mother drives me crazy. True, unadulterated, bat-shit crazy. At the same time, I really do consider her one of my heroes. Also, since she is now “of a certain age”, I know that the time we have together is growing more limited. Spending big blocks of time of her is a wonderful test of my patience and a way to calm down my ADD. I need to remember that she’s not as young as she was – she doesn’t move as quickly; she doesn’t make decisions as quickly; she needs more attention.
Part of Mum’s challenge is that she was recently sick. I won’t go into the details, because they aren’t mine to tell, but as well as she’s doing, she is still not feeling “right”. I’m worried about her; and I know she is worried about it, but won’t say anything because she doesn’t want to be a burden.
Mum came over here to the states in the early 60s. That’s huge. I have great admiration for anyone who leaves their comfort zone – be it their job, their state, their country! – to take on a whole new challenge. A new culture. My mom did that. Hero reason #1.
Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money. We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have “extra”. I only figured this out after the fact. I can’t speak for my brother Herb, or The Sister, but I never was aware that our family had any money issues. We never had all the big name brand stuff, but that was okay. I love that both my parents worked so hard and made us feel loved. Hero reason #2.
My mother is one of the most generous people I know. She is willing to do most anything for anyone at any time. There are times when she goes overboard – food related times mostly – but it’s all done with the best intentions. She is loving and caring. Hero reason #3.
On the downside, Mum can talk. Good gravy, Mabel. She can talk a cat off a tuna wagon. For real. The 5 hours we spent together today – she probably spent 3 1/2 of it talking. I hardly got a word in. And if I did try to relay some story, she interrupted and took the tale off in some random direction. For this reason, I need to get into the right frame of mind before I spend a lot of time with her. I don’t want to get irritated with her or mad at her for something so silly. Who knows – in another few years, I could end up longing for one of these days together. I hope it’s longer than a few though.
So that’s Mum. My hero. I love her. And she is a big reason why I am the person I am. I hope she’s around for a long time yet. If I’m lucky, she will be.
Oh, hello! We’re having dinner this evening – barbecue pulled pork, brown rice, steamed Brussel sprouts. Dig in!
Recently, I wrote a post about being lonely, which if I may say so was a big hit. That wasn’t why I wrote it, but I’m thankful for the praise I’ve received.
That said, my post tonight is NOT about me being lonely, but it is about me being restless. Restless in my life. Restless in my job. I feel like I would love to shake things up and move away and change jobs. But of course, if that were to happen, I would freak out and cry and not want to go. Because, as the saying goes, wherever you go, there you are. Moving away and changing jobs won’t cure my restlessness. And can I tell you why? Can I?
BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M RESTLESS!! If I knew that, I could fix it. Maybe I look around and see others making changes or maybe it’s because things at the Gas ‘n Sip are changing, and I’m either jealous or anxious or scared. (Things at the Gas ‘n Sip ARE changing. I believe they are getting rid of the Slurpee Station, so I may end up at the Nacho Bar or on the Wiener Wheel. I think I would really like the Wiener Wheel – I would totally bogart some of that melty orange cheese from the nachos for the wieners. Sales will skyrocket!! More about that at another time.)
What I think I need to do is to spend a little time trying to figure out what is bothering me. What is it that is making me fidgety? Why am I unsatisfied? What am I unsatisfied with? Oh, these huge existential philosophical conundrums with which I am dealing. Sometimes it’s hard to to be me. Wait, conundrums? Conundra? Hmmm. I think I need to go check that.
Have you ever had (what you consider) a really good friend? One who you spent a huge amount of time with, laughing and having fun? But then all of a sudden, they start to pull away? You see them less and less? They call you less and less? You call them, but get voice mail more than a person? It’s sad, and it hurts, and it’s part of life. Everyone comes into and goes out of your life for a purpose. Some stay longer than others and some make more of an impact on your life than others.
So, have you ever had that happen to you? No? Me either. *snort*
Oh, hello! Tonight, it”s Sugar-Free Pecan Shortbread cookies, and club soda. The cookies are a little stale, but you don’t mind, right?
Remember when you were little? And you saw another little girl or boy who was about your age? You thought nothing of just going up to them and playing and giggling and chatting and being instant friends. There was no judgement, no ulterior motive, no guile.
Remember when you got to high school? All the cliques? One day you are BFFs with this group of girls (or boys) and the next they have “turned” on you and talk about you badly behind your back and laugh at you. There is one-ups-manship; judgement; cattiness.
Me? I am NOT GOOD at this whole making friends thing. It’s not that I don’t want friends, but I’m in a viscious circle – having friends and someone to hang out with is great, but I’m fairly private too, so opening up to people is hard for me. That tends to push people away. And it starts all over again. *sigh*
As part of my letting go of the past and not wallowing in the crap, I’m looking at why I do the things I do. I’ve had “friends” in the past who I thought I could trust. (And this was WAY past HS). And suddenly, with no explanation, I’ve been shut out. It hurts when that happens. I wracked my brain to figure out what happened, and to this day, I honestly have no idea. This has happened more than once. As a result, I have trust issues. I don’t want to have trust issues. I want to have friends.
I just still always have that back in HS feeling where there is the “cool kids” group, and I am on the outside, looking in with envy. Mostly, this is due to my crippling insecurity. What if I say something stoopid? What if they laugh? What if they talk about me after I walk away? Also? I am very shy by nature. Most people do not believe that about me at all. But, I find being social exhausting! If I make myself the center of attention, I’m okay with it. But if someone else puts the spotlight on me, I am MISERABLE!! I want to crawl under a table and hide. Then… once I am comfortable with a sitch, I’m good. My confidence level jumps from -27 to around 2.
I would love to have a handfull of friends with whom I could be completely comfortable, could tell anything to, would do anything for or would do anything for me. My friend Meffa is that to a point, but I hold myself back. I know I do it. I hate that I do it. The K2Kid is another.
So, I’m going to ask you a favor. As a way to help me get out of the past, if you are talking to me, and feel me pulling away, call me on it. Let me know I’m safe. It really doesn’t have anything to do with something you’ve done. It’s all me. I’m owning this. And I’m asking for help with it (another thing that is EXTREMELY hard for me to do.) Thank you in advance.
Baby steps, right?
MagAndMoo's Blog 