Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Vote for Love

Monday, July 28, 2014

The Bailer & the Blue Dress

It happened to P.
Just a few days ago, it finally happened to P 
Not that I wished it upon him, or anyone else at all, but now maybe he can empathize with me.
P got bailed on. And I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me sharing this, but more so in attempt to protect the bailer. Ppssshhhh...
To completely understand this topic, I will give you a brief, and very common scenario of a commonplace bail. Although if your an intelligent person, you should have Known what were about to cover here based totally on the title. So here it is. Lets say it's a Wednesday or Thursday, and your having a conversation with a friend. You may have had a discussion about an event going on, exchanged ideas of a destination or even referenced traveling together. The bailer goes on to reference a time in which they will call, or text to solidify plans. And that's where it starts.
You wait. And you wait. You may even send a text or call Their way to confirm that you were actually going to see each other. But the text isn't answered. And the phone doesn't ring. So meanwhile while your waiting, other opportunities may come your way. Other people will want to secure something, and real friends will truly show- up. And you, being the good friend You are, you choose to honor the original commitment, and decline those other offers. I cannot even begin to tell you how it feels to get ready, and sit, and wait, for someone to never show up. I unfortunately am fluent in this activity. So to hear P go through this, to hear him be so disappointed, and feel like he wasn't a priority? Super sucky. Ohh,, the call Will come, the Bailer does have a conscious, a fingernail width at That. He or she will Eventually remember they left someone hanging.
My friend circle is Extremely small. "I keep a close watch on this heart of mine" says Johnny Cash. But its true. If I'm talking about one of my "friends", I'm talking about only 1 of 3 people. And I'm okay with that. I more often than not, reference someone I'm No longer friends with. And eventually, and they always ask, Why I'm no longer friends with That person? Resounding answer: I grew tired of being the one to put forth all the effort. Your familiar with these friends. They always want You to come over, drive there, or meet them. They will never, ever come out to you. I have even referenced with these people, that it's equal distance for me to drive to them, as it is for them to drive to me. Shocking , I know. I'm over the waiting, and the promises, and hope. So its easier for me to say Sayonara , then continue to be stepped on. One former friend even has the nerve to contact me once a year during the State Fair Just to use my house as her personal parking space!
So this year, the jig is up. You'll have to pay for your parking. If leveraging our friendship for what you can get out of it crosses your mind?  If you don't have the decency to directly call and let me know something came up, that we can't connect?  Well then, take someone else on your Ferris Wheel of Friendship. Cuz this girl ain't buyin' a ticket.

Friday, July 18, 2014

A (Dress) the issue

First things first: I am the voice of this blog and no one else. And my voice promotes this blog and no one else. I am not a paid spokeswoman for anyone or anything else.
A "Noteworthy Retailer" earlier this week debuted an "extended size" for it's women's sizing options. The retailer debuted a 000. Yes, That's a triple- zero. One size smaller than a double zero, and 2 sizes smaller than a single zero. The size is available in the Asian markets and selectively online. As dutifully coached by the marketing geniuses, the company made multiple public statements about how this size option becoming available was in wide response to customers asking for it. They also made the calculated comparison that they also offer sizes available up to 20. Yes, you read 20.
So, out come the feminists, the liberals, and the battle cries from all womankind. Claiming all the regular clauses: By offering smaller sizing options, this promotes unhealthy body expectations. By offering a 000, it's saying to women worldwide, that a double 00 is Not small enough. By offering a triple 000, now everyone will immediately think they Have to be That size. Wrong.
Call me Captain Obvious, but does it disturb Anyone else, that there isn't this reaction to a size 20? Doesn't That more so promote an unhealthy body image? Maybe I'm still on my cheese fries kick from earlier this week, but Why do we cater to obesity? But then chastise a sizing option on the other side of the figurative and literal scale? Here's another Captain Obvious moment:
 Did you know a children's size 12-14 is relative to a women's XS or Small? Yes, so there are thrones of women out there, including this Blogger, running around in children's clothing!! And people think they're ridiculous, but wouldn't second guess if they said they were wearing a women's small. Light bulb moment: It's Wayyyyy cheaper, and Wayyyyyy cuter! So I see it as a genius marketing idea to offer a smaller size at double the price!
OK, so don't offer a smaller size, don't hire a smaller model, remove pages, photoshop, big or small. You cannot remove everything that may make someone feel bad. Because even if I never would have seen a magazine with a supermodel spread, there would still have been the Amber Tomasello's and the Kristin Kershasky's in my life that I would constantly compare myself to. I needed to go through all the ugliness, and doubt. I can remember the day Jolene Heintz and I measured the circumference of our thighs!!!
Unless you, like me a(Dress) your body issues, you'll always be hostage of comparison.
Truth is: I grew out of it, and grew into myself. I got over it and into a gym. I got busy and said Sayonara to those girls, with likely their own issues. My parents were the cultivators of my future, and they were growing confident girls. Even girls now, that are okay with eating Cheese Fries! 

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

It's (almost) Free to be Fat

Let me start out by saying, This blog isn't about what you Think it's about.
It's not about a number on the scale, or the number sewed onto the back of your shirt. Although we may touch briefly on both of those points of interest. And of course I only saw it fitting to don my new "Whatever, I'm having Cheese Fries" tank for this post.
P and I don't keep a scale in our home. Never have. I actually haven't had one in my life since I lived with my parents. I see it as an object that can manipulate your morning, determine your day, and control your subconscious. I choose Not to give that power to a little metal object. Since co- habiting with P, our grocery getting and food planning has gone though more revolutions than a corn dog at the State Fair. And it always astounded me,
"Why is bad food, so cheap?"
I can almost hear people in our friend circle, giving somewhat scientific, and practical reasons as to why. And I'm sure there are people, far more educated than I, that could enlighten me about the land costs, and the hiring hands, and the picking, moving costs of produce. This I know. But why is it, when I buy my weekly bananas, I can get 5 solid skins for the price of a chocolate bar? And when did they need to start selling sweaty workout clothes, next to steaks? Why have we made it so easy to be obese? As I sat waiting in line the other day for my Nacho's Bell Grande, I paid my bill and concluded,
It's Almost Free to be Fat.
But as it invades your life, then can become cripplingly costly.
I totally understand it takes effort to eat well. Luckily, I love my fruits and vegetable's, and consume my fare share of "crap food" conservatively(including Cheese fries!) The entire time I was growing up my Mom had at least 2 desserts going at all times. My Dad had a rather large sweet tooth and finished most of his nights inside a bowl of brownies with a hot fudge sundae on top. Did I mention the man tipped the scales at mere 160? Because he, nor I, over consume. I cannot even fathom it. I'm usually in 2 bites and I'm done. Truth be told, I don't even eat most of the baked goods I concoct.
This summer,I will be doing my share of tasting and indulging in the new Fried Foods to try at my local County Fair. The Fair always runs parallel to my birthday and I have gone almost every year since I've been born. It's a tradition we love to ramp up. I'm sure there will be a lion's share of scooters ready to transport those around, who cannot waddle on their own for the Blooming Onion. And I'm certain, the entire time I'll still be wondering,
"Why it's (almost) Free to be Fat?"

Thursday, July 10, 2014

House of Cards

I've been waiting to write this post for awhile.
Okay, truth be told, It's one of my favorite stories. I think about it now and again, forget about it and then a little something reminds me. It's a story that speaks volumes about the woman my mother is, and the daughter she's still raising.
But let's get some back story first...
I don't play cards. I don't know how to play cards. If there's 2 skills on my bucket list to learn they are:
 1.Learn to play the guitar
2.Learn how to play Poker, like a Bauss.
I presume the later will be more of a challenge, as I would have failed high school, if I didn't have an amazing math teacher that gave me my exams, after class, personally. I didn't actually figure out that I transpose numbers, and letters, and flip their order around, constantly, until I was in my mid- 20's.
That being said, I play King's Corner's(just aged myself by 45 years), and I'm one Hellofa Uno player! Who doesn't Love handing down a Pick 4!?
Also on the list of games I don't play?
Bar Dice.
I can't even begin to tell you how much I Hate Bar Dice!! As a former bartender, I can tell you there is NOthing more annoying than the patron that Insists on playing. Yes,, please Sir,, Slam that cup down As Loud As You Possibly Can!! The harder you slam it, the better your chances,,of winning? No. Every bar has different Bar Dice Rules, and well,, every bartender has different Bar Dice rules. And every bartender has to selectively explain the rules to someone 3 drinks in. And then explain them again After that cup Slams again! My rule? Keep that cup clearly away from me.
Just the other night we were visiting our nearby resort bar and I started playing with the coasters, standing them at perpendicularly to themselves. I asked P if he had ever made a house of cards. He then asked me what exactly a house of cards was, so there, I had my answer.
I must have been only about 7-8. It was nearing the holidays, and my Mother was planning and strategizing her menu for her annual holiday get- together with the ladies from work. Every year, Orlene, Margaret, Nancy, and about 15 other women would converge on our household and have hor's D'orves and cocktails. This is later where I would become tipsy on my first champagne punch. About 2 days before the party I decided to build a House of Cards on the slate tile in our entryway. Many failed attempts and, some successful ones later, I decided to move Project House to the kitchen. Yes, right there in the middle of the kitchen floor, up went my first House, in a line of many figuratively, and literally I would build. Day 1 before the party, I used up the first 52 I had, and started to add from another deck. Day of the party: I had a skyscraper that I needed the kitchen stool to reach the top. There my mom was, making the meatballs, pouring the punch, and divvying up the dip. The entire time, carefully not to disturb the masterpiece I had worked at for 2 days. If I haven't previously mentioned before, we were a family of 5, then for this party we added about 15 more.
And the House of Cards stood tall, in the middle of our small-ish ranch home kitchen. I don't remember exactly when the house took it's fateful fall, but the impression of building it, and having it in that room, has stuck with me for years. I know that it lasted well into the party for the girls to see. I know that my Mom never asked me to go in a different room, or would insist I set up shop somewhere else. I wasn't an un-disciplined child that was allowed to run wild. Perhaps my Mom let me continue, knowing that my mind, my problem solving skills, and my creativity was the best babysitter I would ever have. And having her as my Mom?
I would say, that's having the deck Stacked in My Favor.