Good morning, eh!
Well, I am in Toronto… “my country away from my country”. It really has become like a second home to me now. I walk into the hotel and the people know me, I walk into the Tim Horton’s (the Starbucks equivalent in Canada) and they know me, I walk into Boston’s Pizza (we only eat dinner there or at the hotel) and they know me… by the way, if you are ever at the Boston’s in Mississauga ask for John, tell him Martha sent you and he will take care of you. I am really starting to know Canada. I know to stay clear of the Mexican food. It is ridiculously bad. The Italian food isn’t good, but isn’t bad… stay away from the tomato sauce dishes. My advice… eat at Wendy’s it tastes the same everywhere!
This is the last “update…” of 2007! I can hardly believe that the year is coming to a close. I can hardly believe that 2008 it staring me in the face. I am excited for the new year, I am excited to see what it brings and where I go from here. 2007 has been a great year for me, it truly was the “Year of the Martha”. I had a lot of good things go on with my career (some bad, but who remembers those?) I have made some great new friends and even gotten closer with some current friends. I have made some amazing memories this year, many of them documented in the “update…”. I think that my favorite memory this year is the trip to New York for my sister’s birthday. I have been to New York many times, and I really love the city. But this trip was so different for me. I had never been to the Big Apple with anyone from my family, and let me tell you that was the ingredient that made that trip one of the best. I have to admit I love my mother, my sisters and my aunt, but more importantly I really like them as well. I like to be around them, I like all of the laughter and all of conversation. The trip was fabulous, and there are a few things I will never forget. I will never forget getting into a limousine to get from the airport to hotel and then back again… how Vegas were we? I will never forget how Mary Pat looked in her sparkly new diamond earrings or how she complained about not wanting to go to high tea and then loved it! I will never forget how iceberg cold it got on the top of the bus during the night tour. I will never forget the “wild card” meals. I will never forget the 813 times that my sisters and I had to stop and wait for my mom and aunt to catch up. I will never forget how the trip seemed to be literally charmed… I remember walking into Angelos and the place was packed, our reservations weren’t for 15 minutes and so we thought we would belly up to the bar, and we did only to find that that were exactly five seats at the bar, and it was like they were literally waiting for us. It was the highlight of my year and I cannot wait to see what happens next year. But let me share one last story to close out 2007.
Now, the one thing that has been told to me by a few people that are close to me… is that they are careful what they say and do around me for fear that it might end up in an “Update…” and I have to admit I can understand the concern. I can understand it, but it doesn’t deter me in the least. I actually doesn’t really even enter my mind as I sit down to type.
This last story isn’t about me. It is about my nephews… Mason and Mitchell to be specific. Mason and Mitchell live in the Phoenix area with my twin brother and his wife. They are eleven and eight respectively and are really coming into their own with their own ideas and own agendas. Unfortunately these two kids have not yet learned that communicating these ideas and agendas is really to their benefit as it is much as it is to those they live with. So, let me set the stage a bit. My brother works for Wendys as a district manager, in his own words this is the “hardest job in the company”. My sister-in-law Mendy has been promoted to manager of her group which makes the helmets that infants wear to correct skull formation problems. Mason and Mitchell both attend Montessori school that is located more than 45 minutes away from their house. They live in a two story house where all the bedrooms are upstairs, and where every morning is a race to get out the door.
A couple weeks ago my sister-in-law is getting ready to walk out the door, put the kids in the car, race them to their school, and then speed to work in order to start her day filled which had a “to-do” list that seemed endless. So, she grabs her purse, grabs her car keys, and the kids are parading out the back door into the garage. Mason stops and says “Mom, our Christmas dinner is tonight and I signed you up to bring stuff!” Mendy, a veteran at this sort of thing by now, calmly says “Ok, what do I need to bring?” Mason looks at his mother without missing a beat and says “Lasagna for 80”. It was amazing the matter-of-fact tone he used to drop this bombshell on his mother. This kid had never breathed a word of this to Mendy, she had no idea it was coming… and he what did he sign her up for? Not drinks… not chips and dips… not even dessert… but “lasagna for 80”. I am sure the words were still hanging in the air when she finally regained consciousness. She looked at her beloved firstborn and said “No way! Mason, first of all, I don’t even make lasagna! Second of all, I am leaving for work there is NO time to make LASAGNA for EIGHTY!! We are not doing this”. She takes the bull by the horns and calls the school to verify, and yes, Mason had signed her up for that. What was this kid thinking? She told the lady that her son had not informed her of this ahead of time and that she was not going to be able to whip up a steaming hot batch of lasagna for eighty before the dinner started. She told her “Look, I cannot bring lasagna so what else can I bring that I can pick up at the store”… the settled on something and catastrophe was averted. Now, the one thing you can take away from all of this is to go ahead and tell you kids every year when the school year starts, “if you are ever asked to contribute to a pot-luck party… remember, sign me up to bring the paper plates!”. You have to preempt those sort of things.
Now you would think that the lesson was learned, that Mason would think from then on… gee, if I need my mom’s help on something I should tell her in advance. Oh no, not my nephew… he takes after his dad! This may be a boy thing, I am not sure. Last Monday or Tuesday (cant remember which) Mason wakes up and tells his mother “Oh my gosh! We have to leave early I need to go to Target!!!” Mendy, still a pro, calmly asks “What do you need to get at Target”. My nephew then proceeds to tell her that it is “secret Santa” day and that he needs to bring a ten dollar gift, and of course he doesn’t have one yet, and he needs it TOOOOO-DAY! So, Mendy puts her morning into overdrive. She tells Mitchell, Mason’s brother, that they need to leave early so he has to hustle. They are all racing through the house, oddly enough they looked like they were on one of those time-elapsed videos, you know everything is really choppy but moves ten times faster. Anyway the zoom out of the house and Mendy makes gets them all into Target in time for Mason to shop for his secret Santa gift. Mason is a slow shopper and he is doing his due diligence and trying to pick a ten dollar treasure that will be the most popular gift! Mitchell is standing by watching him shop, and getting more and more frustrated… finally he cant keep it in any longer. He looks at his brother and says “You are wasting MY time”. Mason is a little shocked and says “What?” Mitchell persists, “You’re wasting my time! This is my time and you are wasting it. I could be watching TV or eating my breakfast or just relaxing and you are wasting my time!” Mason, tries to get something out, and Mitchell cuts him off and says, “When we have to come here tomorrow to get MY gingerbread stuff for school, I don’t want to hear any complaining from you!” Mendy about falls over, “WHAT?!?!?! You need gingerbread house making supplies for tomorrow and you weren’t going to say anything? We are here!!! We are getting it now!” She marches this kid over to the baking aisle and gets the supplies. Can you believe that? He was going to wait until tomorrow to lay that one on his mom! I love this. The irony in that is just so amazingly thick, and these kids are just so incredibly funny.
That does it for and for the year! Hope you all have a fantastic holiday season…
Peace, love, and lasagna for 80!
Martha
Update... Dec 3, 2007
I am feeling very “Sound of Music” this morning… like I should be spinning around like a crazy person on a mountain top with my Julie Andrew’s chili bowl hair cut, smile carved deep into my face and singing wildly with my arms flailing in every direction.
Bon Jour… Good day… Buenos dias… and Hello-oh! I’m sure…. You want… to hear my update, let’s go-oh! Dee-ta-ta-leet-da-da-leet-dee-dee… Dee-ta-leet-dee-dee…
Without further singing or ado... let’s get on with it, shall we? There has been tons of stuff going on.
Now, for those of you who can remember that far back, about a week and a half ago was Thanksgiving. Many people have asked me the obligatory question “How was your Thanksgiving?”. Generally speaking I always answer this question the same with some mock enthusiasm. “Good”… but that was not the case this year. My Thanksgiving was phenomenal, it was one of the books baby! I left work Wednesday afternoon, and things were looking good… and they were only gonna get better. I actually shut my laptop down and a paused as I looked at it, and in my head I told myself “Wow, not going to power you up until Monday”. I was looking at four days of complete and total freedom! The thought was serene, it was actually calming, and most importantly it brought a Cheshire cat grin to my face that didn’t leave for four days. I almost felt like I was cheating… like I was beating the system. It was like I was getting four days off and no one else was, like I had won the lottery and instead of millions of dollars… I got four days off! I bolted out of work, like I was escaping from a mental institution, which to be quite honest that is what my office resembles more often than not, and I had already packed my bags! I had everything I need to camp out at my sister’s house for the next few days. My sister Mary Pat had flown in for the holiday and Mary Pat is a TON of fun… she is a walking Mardi Gras and everyone loves to be around her, so I knew my holiday was going to be great! She was staying at my sister’s as well, so let the party begin!
I am racing over to Grapevine Mills mall to get to the movie theater to go see “Enchanted”. I am so excited to see this movie, I had been dying to see it since I first saw the trailer for it. It is about fairytale animated princess who gets propelled off the animation drawing board and right smack dab into New York City!!! I love the whole fairytale princess thing, I love New York City, and I am a huge sap when it comes to movies where it simply HAS to end with the boy getting the girl and “they lived happily ever after” endings! So, I simply knew this was the movie for me. Luckily for me, I have three nieces so that gives me a great excuse for going to see these types of movies… you go up to the ticket box office and ask for “1 adult ticket please” and that does generate some looks, I cant even imagine what those looks would be if I was a guy!! But you go up to the box office and say, “1 adult, 3 kids”… you can even through in a typical “Can’t believe I have to see THIS movie”, and there are no looks, other than to those of complete understanding. So, I go and grab tickets for my two sisters, my mother and my three nieces… I am ready for the show! I am waiting patiently until they get there, and then my nieces bank the corner. They see me and they go from fast walking into an all out sprint… the eleven year old is in the lead!!! It is like they are racing for the roses and I am the roses!!! Woohoo! You will never feel more loved and adored and idolized as you do when three little girls are racing toward you with utter exhilaration painted across their smiles and them screaming “Martha!” at the top of their lungs. I think it would be great if I could get a recording of them all screaming my name that way, I could keep it in my cube at work and when I solve and issue or deploy new code, I could hit play… and hear it… “Martha!” We all greet each other and hit the concession stand for our movie-going fare. The typical popcorn and sodas… at the rock bottom price of $58. You could go to Taco Bell and feed a hungry family of ten, and I mean hungry, for that kind of money. Crazy. We get into the theater and there is NO one there! Yahtzee!!! I love going to the movies when no one is in the theater with you… it is like your own private screening, I feel so Howard Hughes. The movie was good, not great, but good and sometimes that is good enough.
We leave the theater and head into the mall to shop for just a little bit, and my niece Rebecca looks at me and says “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” I was a little shocked and then quickly realized this kid had no idea I was staying the weekend! I said, “yeah, I know.” And began snickering to myself. Her lamenting persisted, and I kept poking her about it until finally I told her that I was stay, not only that but I was going to be sleeping in her room!! She was thrilled, yet again… I felt like a star! She was so excited that not only was Aunt Martha not going home, but by God she was gonna be staying in her room! My other two nieces quickly flew into action, “why cant you sleep in my room?” was said in unison by the other two kids. You have to understand that Rebecca is the oldest, and the only one that is a good sleeper. The other two are not only not good sleepers, but will keep you awake the entire night… trust me I know, this has happened to me… More. Than. Once. The kids were thrilled that I was staying and I have to admit so was I.
The next day was Thanksgiving, and I had a lot to be thankful for… being off of work for four days topped the list this year, after that it 300-way tie for second… with the normal stuff thrown in, my house, my car that still amazes me, my job that I have four days away from, my friends, my vacation coming up in March, my family, my health, my big toe that is back to normal… you know, “stuff”. The next day was spent playing every game you can imagine. We played with dolls, we did “Dance Dance Revolution” on X-box, we did “Kareoke” on the X-box, we watched “National Treasure”, we ate, we snacked, we had more popcorn, and we finally fell into bed for a long winter’s nap around 9:30pm, something I haven’t probably done in a long time but man, I needed the rest! It was great. I slept until 8am the next morning, so did Rebecca, God love that kid, she can sleep! If you ever spend the night at my sister’s, word to the wise, sleep in Rebecca’s room. She will crowd you a little bit, because she really wants to lay next-to/on-top-of you, but other than that, she doesn’t stir, she doesn’t snore, she doesn’t drool, she doesn’t seem to ever have nightmares, she doesn’t wet the bed, and she will sleep until you wake her up!
The next day was a whirlwind… it whipped by so fast I can hardly remember it! I went down to College Station, yes my beloved Aggieland to see us play the University of Texas. I have to admit I had already steeled myself to accept a loss. I knew that we had won last year, and I knew that Fran was still coaching, so I knew the odds of us winning were not good. I got there and it was cold, that was going to add insult to injury. But the Aggies went ahead early in the first quarter… we were passing the ball!!! I almost didn’t recognize the strange gyration that was happening with our quarterbacks arm… I thought maybe his arm was broken or he was signaling to the sideline… but after thinking about it for a few minutes and conferring with those around me and even noticing that they moved the chains, we all decided it was a forward pass!!! It was like something from another planet, we were in awe of this. Then later… a faked field goal!!! We were actually playing in this game, our players were running all over the field and not just up the middle. Our quarterback was passing, instead of just running up the middle, our coaches were coaching instead of just running up the middle. It was a football symphony… I called it “Aggies in 1st Down Major” by “coaches other than Fran”. It was awesome… we got the lead and never let it go. We had over 500 yards in total offense, we looked lean and mean, and I was so happy it didn’t matter how cold I was! I felt like Christmas had come early, Santa had arrived in Aggieland and left a big fat win underneath the century tree for all to enjoy, but then later that night after leaving the game… it got better, we had all gotten our win and had played with it, we were all basking in our newest and latest toy, and then apparently the newscasters looked under the century tree and saw a new gift that Santa had left. It was coach Fran’s resignation letter, complete with speech and the keys to locker room! Could it get any better? Is there anything else that Santa could have left? I am wondering if he left a National Championship title under the tree, complete with a Waterford crystal football… but if he had I am sure someone would have found that by now!
I got back home Saturday and raced through the day, it all ended at my mother’s house with a holiday celebration for my sister Kathy being in town. There were leftovers galore and there was laughter in spades, the house was bursting at the seams and we were all there to fill ‘er up. It was great.
(A poetic interlude)
The weekend was a blast, as you can plainly see… don’t you wish you were an Aggie like me?
I went back to Toronto again last week. I am sure that Toronto has a city nickname, you know… like Dallas is “Big D” (although so is “divorce”… hmm, is that coincidence?) and New York is “The Big Apple” and Chicago is “The windy City” or “Chi-Town”… if I was gonna nickname Toronto, it would be “the land of parallel snow”. I am gonna wrap up this “update…” but hear me out. The snow was actually snowing parallel to the ground. That is how hard the wind was blowing. There wasn’t snow on the top of the cars, it was on the side of the cars. One of my co-workers went out to get the car one morning, he scraped the ice off the windshield, got in the car and then had to scrape the ice off the INSIDE of the windshield!!!! It was like being in an igloo! I have been around 33 years, and never once have I scraped ice off the inside of a windshield! These Canadians are made of some pretty strong stuff, they really endure a lot of “weather”. I now understand why they drink so heavily, I would too. Think about it, you cant really go outside and do anything… your lawn maintenance and outside yard work are only an issue for 2 months out of the entire year. You are constantly cooped up in your home with the people in your family! The divorce rate isn’t as high as it is in the US, but the murder rate… it is pretty up there!
That does it for me, hope you all had a wonderful turkey day!!!!
Peace, love, and “is there anything else under the century tree?”,
Martha
Bon Jour… Good day… Buenos dias… and Hello-oh! I’m sure…. You want… to hear my update, let’s go-oh! Dee-ta-ta-leet-da-da-leet-dee-dee… Dee-ta-leet-dee-dee…
Without further singing or ado... let’s get on with it, shall we? There has been tons of stuff going on.
Now, for those of you who can remember that far back, about a week and a half ago was Thanksgiving. Many people have asked me the obligatory question “How was your Thanksgiving?”. Generally speaking I always answer this question the same with some mock enthusiasm. “Good”… but that was not the case this year. My Thanksgiving was phenomenal, it was one of the books baby! I left work Wednesday afternoon, and things were looking good… and they were only gonna get better. I actually shut my laptop down and a paused as I looked at it, and in my head I told myself “Wow, not going to power you up until Monday”. I was looking at four days of complete and total freedom! The thought was serene, it was actually calming, and most importantly it brought a Cheshire cat grin to my face that didn’t leave for four days. I almost felt like I was cheating… like I was beating the system. It was like I was getting four days off and no one else was, like I had won the lottery and instead of millions of dollars… I got four days off! I bolted out of work, like I was escaping from a mental institution, which to be quite honest that is what my office resembles more often than not, and I had already packed my bags! I had everything I need to camp out at my sister’s house for the next few days. My sister Mary Pat had flown in for the holiday and Mary Pat is a TON of fun… she is a walking Mardi Gras and everyone loves to be around her, so I knew my holiday was going to be great! She was staying at my sister’s as well, so let the party begin!
I am racing over to Grapevine Mills mall to get to the movie theater to go see “Enchanted”. I am so excited to see this movie, I had been dying to see it since I first saw the trailer for it. It is about fairytale animated princess who gets propelled off the animation drawing board and right smack dab into New York City!!! I love the whole fairytale princess thing, I love New York City, and I am a huge sap when it comes to movies where it simply HAS to end with the boy getting the girl and “they lived happily ever after” endings! So, I simply knew this was the movie for me. Luckily for me, I have three nieces so that gives me a great excuse for going to see these types of movies… you go up to the ticket box office and ask for “1 adult ticket please” and that does generate some looks, I cant even imagine what those looks would be if I was a guy!! But you go up to the box office and say, “1 adult, 3 kids”… you can even through in a typical “Can’t believe I have to see THIS movie”, and there are no looks, other than to those of complete understanding. So, I go and grab tickets for my two sisters, my mother and my three nieces… I am ready for the show! I am waiting patiently until they get there, and then my nieces bank the corner. They see me and they go from fast walking into an all out sprint… the eleven year old is in the lead!!! It is like they are racing for the roses and I am the roses!!! Woohoo! You will never feel more loved and adored and idolized as you do when three little girls are racing toward you with utter exhilaration painted across their smiles and them screaming “Martha!” at the top of their lungs. I think it would be great if I could get a recording of them all screaming my name that way, I could keep it in my cube at work and when I solve and issue or deploy new code, I could hit play… and hear it… “Martha!” We all greet each other and hit the concession stand for our movie-going fare. The typical popcorn and sodas… at the rock bottom price of $58. You could go to Taco Bell and feed a hungry family of ten, and I mean hungry, for that kind of money. Crazy. We get into the theater and there is NO one there! Yahtzee!!! I love going to the movies when no one is in the theater with you… it is like your own private screening, I feel so Howard Hughes. The movie was good, not great, but good and sometimes that is good enough.
We leave the theater and head into the mall to shop for just a little bit, and my niece Rebecca looks at me and says “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” I was a little shocked and then quickly realized this kid had no idea I was staying the weekend! I said, “yeah, I know.” And began snickering to myself. Her lamenting persisted, and I kept poking her about it until finally I told her that I was stay, not only that but I was going to be sleeping in her room!! She was thrilled, yet again… I felt like a star! She was so excited that not only was Aunt Martha not going home, but by God she was gonna be staying in her room! My other two nieces quickly flew into action, “why cant you sleep in my room?” was said in unison by the other two kids. You have to understand that Rebecca is the oldest, and the only one that is a good sleeper. The other two are not only not good sleepers, but will keep you awake the entire night… trust me I know, this has happened to me… More. Than. Once. The kids were thrilled that I was staying and I have to admit so was I.
The next day was Thanksgiving, and I had a lot to be thankful for… being off of work for four days topped the list this year, after that it 300-way tie for second… with the normal stuff thrown in, my house, my car that still amazes me, my job that I have four days away from, my friends, my vacation coming up in March, my family, my health, my big toe that is back to normal… you know, “stuff”. The next day was spent playing every game you can imagine. We played with dolls, we did “Dance Dance Revolution” on X-box, we did “Kareoke” on the X-box, we watched “National Treasure”, we ate, we snacked, we had more popcorn, and we finally fell into bed for a long winter’s nap around 9:30pm, something I haven’t probably done in a long time but man, I needed the rest! It was great. I slept until 8am the next morning, so did Rebecca, God love that kid, she can sleep! If you ever spend the night at my sister’s, word to the wise, sleep in Rebecca’s room. She will crowd you a little bit, because she really wants to lay next-to/on-top-of you, but other than that, she doesn’t stir, she doesn’t snore, she doesn’t drool, she doesn’t seem to ever have nightmares, she doesn’t wet the bed, and she will sleep until you wake her up!
The next day was a whirlwind… it whipped by so fast I can hardly remember it! I went down to College Station, yes my beloved Aggieland to see us play the University of Texas. I have to admit I had already steeled myself to accept a loss. I knew that we had won last year, and I knew that Fran was still coaching, so I knew the odds of us winning were not good. I got there and it was cold, that was going to add insult to injury. But the Aggies went ahead early in the first quarter… we were passing the ball!!! I almost didn’t recognize the strange gyration that was happening with our quarterbacks arm… I thought maybe his arm was broken or he was signaling to the sideline… but after thinking about it for a few minutes and conferring with those around me and even noticing that they moved the chains, we all decided it was a forward pass!!! It was like something from another planet, we were in awe of this. Then later… a faked field goal!!! We were actually playing in this game, our players were running all over the field and not just up the middle. Our quarterback was passing, instead of just running up the middle, our coaches were coaching instead of just running up the middle. It was a football symphony… I called it “Aggies in 1st Down Major” by “coaches other than Fran”. It was awesome… we got the lead and never let it go. We had over 500 yards in total offense, we looked lean and mean, and I was so happy it didn’t matter how cold I was! I felt like Christmas had come early, Santa had arrived in Aggieland and left a big fat win underneath the century tree for all to enjoy, but then later that night after leaving the game… it got better, we had all gotten our win and had played with it, we were all basking in our newest and latest toy, and then apparently the newscasters looked under the century tree and saw a new gift that Santa had left. It was coach Fran’s resignation letter, complete with speech and the keys to locker room! Could it get any better? Is there anything else that Santa could have left? I am wondering if he left a National Championship title under the tree, complete with a Waterford crystal football… but if he had I am sure someone would have found that by now!
I got back home Saturday and raced through the day, it all ended at my mother’s house with a holiday celebration for my sister Kathy being in town. There were leftovers galore and there was laughter in spades, the house was bursting at the seams and we were all there to fill ‘er up. It was great.
(A poetic interlude)
The weekend was a blast, as you can plainly see… don’t you wish you were an Aggie like me?
I went back to Toronto again last week. I am sure that Toronto has a city nickname, you know… like Dallas is “Big D” (although so is “divorce”… hmm, is that coincidence?) and New York is “The Big Apple” and Chicago is “The windy City” or “Chi-Town”… if I was gonna nickname Toronto, it would be “the land of parallel snow”. I am gonna wrap up this “update…” but hear me out. The snow was actually snowing parallel to the ground. That is how hard the wind was blowing. There wasn’t snow on the top of the cars, it was on the side of the cars. One of my co-workers went out to get the car one morning, he scraped the ice off the windshield, got in the car and then had to scrape the ice off the INSIDE of the windshield!!!! It was like being in an igloo! I have been around 33 years, and never once have I scraped ice off the inside of a windshield! These Canadians are made of some pretty strong stuff, they really endure a lot of “weather”. I now understand why they drink so heavily, I would too. Think about it, you cant really go outside and do anything… your lawn maintenance and outside yard work are only an issue for 2 months out of the entire year. You are constantly cooped up in your home with the people in your family! The divorce rate isn’t as high as it is in the US, but the murder rate… it is pretty up there!
That does it for me, hope you all had a wonderful turkey day!!!!
Peace, love, and “is there anything else under the century tree?”,
Martha
Update... Nov 13, 2007
Let me start off by quoting my sister… “Whoa, can say that again? Whoa!” That really says it all right now folks. My entire life can be summarized in one word, and that word… is “whoa”. I am not even sure if that is a real word or merely just slang. But whether it is a word or not… it is what I have in my life… my plate is full and it is a big plate of “whoa!”. Let’s begin another update, follow me…
I have been traveling the last couple of weeks for work. I have been told so many times, by so many people of various walks of life, how lucky I am to get to travel for work. The one similarity that all of these people have is that THEY have never traveled for work. Traveling for work is just like spending a weekend helping your brother move into a new house. If you have never helped a family member move into a house (not an apartment, that is too small an undertaking) then let me bring this analogy into focus for you. Keep looking through the view finder, this is gonna get crystal clear fast.
When you spend a weekend helping a family member move it is a marathon. It generally starts on Friday, and you come over to their current residence… you are energetic, you are pumped, you are ready to get it over with! Now for me, I usually go in with some kind of plan… I have an agenda in my head which usually consists of everything I want to get done that evening, you know goals. Well, what I usually have in my mind is to get certain rooms packed and moved and to at some point in the evening break for a nice dinner. Did you hear that folks… dinner. This is never what happens. Friday night is usually spent in a mad dash going from one room to the next just trying to shore things up and you’re lucky if you get water, no soup for you!
Saturday morning comes and with the dawn of a new day comes sustenance. There is always breakfast on this day, you need the energy and you are starving from the previous night. Usually, in my family, this breakfast feast consists of McDonalds (let’s face it… outside of breakfast and happy meals that place is bad, don’t talk to me about their fries because I would go out of my way for chick-fil-a waffle fries!) you know the Mickey D’s breakfast drill… a sausage biscuit with egg, and a diet coke! You speed through the day box after box, just trying to empty a U-Haul. Now the entire time this is going on I am wondering if the boxes are reproducing or if this U-haul has the illusionary properties of a clown car, because with every box I take out of the back end another seems to appear in its place! It is like playing “whack-a-mole” they just keep popping up! Finally by the end of the day you are a little punch drunk and everything becomes funny. I have to tell you this is not the time for something to strike me as odd or funny, because I will begin to laugh so hard I will cry and it could take me a good thirty minutes or so to recover. This did indeed happened during one such move, I was in the back of the U-Haul and friend of my brother’s wife got into the back the truck in a cut-off “flash dance” belly shirt and 1970s track shorts and red tube socks that were pulled up to his knees… I had to put the box down that I was trying to lift and get out of there before I doubled over in laughter. The crazy part was that these were actually his real clothes. I tried to warn my twin brother, “don’t go in the truck, you wont be able to contain yourself”. He didn’t know why I was laughing or what I was talking about, finally he comes right back out of the truck and says… “Did you see that?” and begins to die laughing. No forty plus year old man should look like he was “getting physical” with Olivia Newton John before heading over to help us unload stuff. Geez. There usually is no lunch on Saturday and you speed through everything and generally speaking dinner is provided around 9 or 10 o’clock at night. You lay down to go to sleep and you are tired, your body is tired, your mind is tired, your hair is tired, even your fingernails are tired… and then Sunday comes… Sunday is clean up day! You get to keep unpacking and cleaning the whole day. You do get breakfast and a fast food lunch! And by the time dinner rolls around, generally the person that is moving in may take you out for a Mexican dinner. The weekend is over… you have gotten nothing accomplished for yourself, and your entire life has been on hold. You have eaten fast food that isn’t good for you, restaurant food that isn’t good for you, been deprived of water, been deprived of sleep, and physically and mentally taxed during these long and arduous fourteen hour working days! But your brother is happy! He is moved!!! Things are good.
Consider my project manager my brother. He asks me (well, tells me) to go to Toronto to “fix” stuff. Last week is a great example of this. I get in Tuesday evening, it is 6 o’clock when the plane lands. I speedily get through customs, because, let’s face it… I don’t look like a terrorist. My project manager is waiting outside the terminal in his rental car. I haven’t eaten since lunch, but there is no time for food, not even for a fast food! We go directly to the office to start working. The marathon has started, I have on my running shoes and I am praying that 26.2 comes quickly! I get on my laptop, which is silver… “Hi-Ho Silver!!! Away!!!” I am waving my hat in the air. Ok, I didn’t have a hat. I work, my fingers are flying across the keyboard… one of the ops guys is wiping beads of sweat off of my brow. Finally midnight arrives, I haven’t eaten… must… have… food. One of the ops guys swing into action, they bring me six bite size pretzels! We press on! Finally thirty minutes later… we give up. (enter yoda’s voice). Rest. Must… have… rest. We leave and head for the hotel. I go to check in and they do not have my reservation, and BONUS they are “sold out”. Well, the desk clerk talks to his manager, who gets on the computer… and the two of them “find a room”. Now, that is amazing! They were sold out five minutes before, but low and behold… you look pathetic enough at nearly 1am and they will “find” you a room! The next day we wake up… and head in! Everyday was long… at least 12 hours. There were meals that were skipped, there was only sparing amounts of water to be had, working out isn’t something I could have done even if there was time to do it… but by the time I got on the plane on Friday morning… everyone was happy! My life had been ignored… my house had been un-manned… my friends didn’t know me anymore… and my mom hardly remembered my name by the time I got back! But just like the brother in the new moved into house… they were pleased. I was drained, and it was time to return to my life and try do all that had not been done while I was gone.
So the next time your boss or your project manager come up and say “Hey! How would you like to go to (…fill in city name here…) to work for a couple of weeks?” just think to yourself… “if my family member came up to me and wanted me to move all of their stuff for two weeks would I want to do that?” I think not!
Peace, love, and “Let’s get physical!”,
Martha
I have been traveling the last couple of weeks for work. I have been told so many times, by so many people of various walks of life, how lucky I am to get to travel for work. The one similarity that all of these people have is that THEY have never traveled for work. Traveling for work is just like spending a weekend helping your brother move into a new house. If you have never helped a family member move into a house (not an apartment, that is too small an undertaking) then let me bring this analogy into focus for you. Keep looking through the view finder, this is gonna get crystal clear fast.
When you spend a weekend helping a family member move it is a marathon. It generally starts on Friday, and you come over to their current residence… you are energetic, you are pumped, you are ready to get it over with! Now for me, I usually go in with some kind of plan… I have an agenda in my head which usually consists of everything I want to get done that evening, you know goals. Well, what I usually have in my mind is to get certain rooms packed and moved and to at some point in the evening break for a nice dinner. Did you hear that folks… dinner. This is never what happens. Friday night is usually spent in a mad dash going from one room to the next just trying to shore things up and you’re lucky if you get water, no soup for you!
Saturday morning comes and with the dawn of a new day comes sustenance. There is always breakfast on this day, you need the energy and you are starving from the previous night. Usually, in my family, this breakfast feast consists of McDonalds (let’s face it… outside of breakfast and happy meals that place is bad, don’t talk to me about their fries because I would go out of my way for chick-fil-a waffle fries!) you know the Mickey D’s breakfast drill… a sausage biscuit with egg, and a diet coke! You speed through the day box after box, just trying to empty a U-Haul. Now the entire time this is going on I am wondering if the boxes are reproducing or if this U-haul has the illusionary properties of a clown car, because with every box I take out of the back end another seems to appear in its place! It is like playing “whack-a-mole” they just keep popping up! Finally by the end of the day you are a little punch drunk and everything becomes funny. I have to tell you this is not the time for something to strike me as odd or funny, because I will begin to laugh so hard I will cry and it could take me a good thirty minutes or so to recover. This did indeed happened during one such move, I was in the back of the U-Haul and friend of my brother’s wife got into the back the truck in a cut-off “flash dance” belly shirt and 1970s track shorts and red tube socks that were pulled up to his knees… I had to put the box down that I was trying to lift and get out of there before I doubled over in laughter. The crazy part was that these were actually his real clothes. I tried to warn my twin brother, “don’t go in the truck, you wont be able to contain yourself”. He didn’t know why I was laughing or what I was talking about, finally he comes right back out of the truck and says… “Did you see that?” and begins to die laughing. No forty plus year old man should look like he was “getting physical” with Olivia Newton John before heading over to help us unload stuff. Geez. There usually is no lunch on Saturday and you speed through everything and generally speaking dinner is provided around 9 or 10 o’clock at night. You lay down to go to sleep and you are tired, your body is tired, your mind is tired, your hair is tired, even your fingernails are tired… and then Sunday comes… Sunday is clean up day! You get to keep unpacking and cleaning the whole day. You do get breakfast and a fast food lunch! And by the time dinner rolls around, generally the person that is moving in may take you out for a Mexican dinner. The weekend is over… you have gotten nothing accomplished for yourself, and your entire life has been on hold. You have eaten fast food that isn’t good for you, restaurant food that isn’t good for you, been deprived of water, been deprived of sleep, and physically and mentally taxed during these long and arduous fourteen hour working days! But your brother is happy! He is moved!!! Things are good.
Consider my project manager my brother. He asks me (well, tells me) to go to Toronto to “fix” stuff. Last week is a great example of this. I get in Tuesday evening, it is 6 o’clock when the plane lands. I speedily get through customs, because, let’s face it… I don’t look like a terrorist. My project manager is waiting outside the terminal in his rental car. I haven’t eaten since lunch, but there is no time for food, not even for a fast food! We go directly to the office to start working. The marathon has started, I have on my running shoes and I am praying that 26.2 comes quickly! I get on my laptop, which is silver… “Hi-Ho Silver!!! Away!!!” I am waving my hat in the air. Ok, I didn’t have a hat. I work, my fingers are flying across the keyboard… one of the ops guys is wiping beads of sweat off of my brow. Finally midnight arrives, I haven’t eaten… must… have… food. One of the ops guys swing into action, they bring me six bite size pretzels! We press on! Finally thirty minutes later… we give up. (enter yoda’s voice). Rest. Must… have… rest. We leave and head for the hotel. I go to check in and they do not have my reservation, and BONUS they are “sold out”. Well, the desk clerk talks to his manager, who gets on the computer… and the two of them “find a room”. Now, that is amazing! They were sold out five minutes before, but low and behold… you look pathetic enough at nearly 1am and they will “find” you a room! The next day we wake up… and head in! Everyday was long… at least 12 hours. There were meals that were skipped, there was only sparing amounts of water to be had, working out isn’t something I could have done even if there was time to do it… but by the time I got on the plane on Friday morning… everyone was happy! My life had been ignored… my house had been un-manned… my friends didn’t know me anymore… and my mom hardly remembered my name by the time I got back! But just like the brother in the new moved into house… they were pleased. I was drained, and it was time to return to my life and try do all that had not been done while I was gone.
So the next time your boss or your project manager come up and say “Hey! How would you like to go to (…fill in city name here…) to work for a couple of weeks?” just think to yourself… “if my family member came up to me and wanted me to move all of their stuff for two weeks would I want to do that?” I think not!
Peace, love, and “Let’s get physical!”,
Martha
Update... Nov 1, 2007
Good morning to one and to all,
Well, I have to admit even I wondered if I was ever going to write another “update…”. Don’t get me wrong, it never scared me out of a dead sleep, or even kept me up at night, but I would sit in my cube and wonder “Gee, is life ever going to slow down enough to put finger to keyboard?”, it isn’t really life so much as it work… and we shall get into that and the other things that have been going on… sha-zam!
And as Ed McMahon would say… “Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere’s the Update!”
Ok, so you should all know by now that the Red Sox have won the world series (is that supposed to be in capitals?) and that it was a sweep… get your brooms out sox fans! Now, I have to admit I am not a baseball fan. I am not even really a spectator of the sport other than the world series, that is when I get slightly interested. Needless to say, I am not a Red Sox fan… but I did happen to see them beat the Yankees and go on to win the world series not too long ago. Now if memory serves me right, because I cant cheat and look it up on the internet… get to that, before this they hadn’t won the title in over eighty years! Yes, that is 8-0. Whoa! That is a long time.
Side note: Now, my aggies haven’t won a National Championship (yep, that is in capitals) since 1939, do the math folks… that is on 68 years. All of these true Red Sox fans are now, not only my idols, but show me that there is still hope! That if I can hold on long enough, and if modern medicine can just keep me alive, I too could be sitting in the stands, with my age spots, my tri-focals fixed on the score board, my hearing aids, my iron lung, and fresh donned Depends and see my aggies win a Nation Championship… you just need patience!!!
So, the Red Sox fans of this generation now get a second world series (still not sure of the capitals) to celebrate. There is gonna be some serious cases of sclerosis of the liver in Bean Town (capitalized for emphasis) and beyond!!! Now, I do have a Red Sox fan in my life, and that fan is a die hard and drink harder fan!!! Her name is Bella, and Bella is super fan. She dressed for Halloween as a crazed Red Sox fan, not because she wanted to, but because she was supporting her Sox on their way to sweep. What better way to celebrate? Now, Bella turned 30 just this past weekend… quite a milestone and something to really celebrate. For her celebration I got her a cake… not just any cake. Sure it was made of flour and water and all the usual stuff… but this cake embodied the Red Sox… it literally was a symbol of the Sox… on top of this cake was the Red Sox emblem, complete with… well, red socks! On the side of the cake, “Happy Birthday Bella”. Now, to make the cake complete it was red velvet on the inside, so still staying “in theme” if you will. When I ordered this cake, I thought Bella would really like it…I thought she would think “Wow! That is really great!” I had no idea, nor could I have guessed what the reaction would have been. It was complete adoration of the cake… built for her! She LOVED this cake (whoa, all caps!) and at one point I think she was thinking of actually not eating it, dunking it in neoprene and trying to preserve it for all time, I think she was contemplating contacting the Smithsonian (yep… capitalized) and having an entire exhibit built around it. Now, I will tell you I did leave before the cake was cut, and I have been told what that scene looked like… and trust me folks it wasn’t pretty. A waitress came by and did the deed… with symbol-killing knife she slashed into this defenseless piece of history. She cut the cake… and with that, just like clock striking midnight, the magic was gone.
On with work… work has been my main impediment in not being able to get an “update…” out, really that is the culprit. I have taken on a new position, in PSO (acronyms are always capitals) , that stands for Professional Services Organization, personally I think it should be Predominately Stressed-out and Over-worked, but I don’t think you can put that on business cards. Anyway, work has been an entirely new adventure. Currently my adventure has me in Toronto… yeah, Canada. Ah, Canada in November. Now, I have to tell you last night, I left work and it was nearly 9 o’clock EDT (weird how many capitals there are) and I called home to check in… my sister gets on the phone and tells me the weather has been “gorgeous”. Like I want to hear that. Then my mother gets on the phone, what does she want to talk about? The weather!!! “You should have been here today, the weather was incredible”. I talked to a guy from work, Faraaz, “Oh Martha, you should be here for this weather”… apparently weather of notable…remarkable… and epic proportions had fallen over Dallas and I was in Toronto!!! Oh the humanity! Not only did I miss Halloween, not only did I miss dinner, but I also missed the weather!!! And trust me folks, this was not a fun trip.
So, needless to say, my life in PSO is different than it was in R&D (threw that in, and yeah it is capitalized)… I still sit in the same cube where I have written many updates, I still eat Taco Bell for lunch and sit with my two lunchtime partners and still ponder life, love, and how come pretty much anything, including shampoo, has “yellow #5” in it. My life is very much the same, except for the tasks I do. I am no longer creating, although I still do that to a degree, no now I am stomping out camp fires… some of ‘em are pretty big. And it is hard to stomp ‘em out. My bag of tricks includes whatever knowledge I have in my brain and I couple that with my dexterous fingers that seem to have amazingly fast typing capabilities, which I am now wondering if I can parlay that into some sort of Olympic event (that is capitalized, I checked). There are days however when you wish there weren’t the camp fires, when you wish it wasn't 8pm in Toronto and you cant leave and haven’t eaten. There are those days… but then the next day, there is light, and you find yourself… still cold and lonely in Toronto, but able to send out an “update…” and find yourself feeling a little better that you have reached out and made contact with the rest of the world, and that in that contact… the world can contact you back and let you know how nice the weather where you aren’t.
One last thing!!! Shameless plug: “Two Rooms” is latest play that Rover Dramawerks is producing, and yes, I am going to see it!! But I need all of you to see it too! My friend Joslyn got the lead role, and it gonna be great. So, do something different on a Friday night, go see a play!!! Tickets are available at http://www.roverdramawerks.com/... This is gonna be water cooler conversation you will want to be part of. J
Peace, love, and anything in Capitals!!!
Martha
Well, I have to admit even I wondered if I was ever going to write another “update…”. Don’t get me wrong, it never scared me out of a dead sleep, or even kept me up at night, but I would sit in my cube and wonder “Gee, is life ever going to slow down enough to put finger to keyboard?”, it isn’t really life so much as it work… and we shall get into that and the other things that have been going on… sha-zam!
And as Ed McMahon would say… “Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere’s the Update!”
Ok, so you should all know by now that the Red Sox have won the world series (is that supposed to be in capitals?) and that it was a sweep… get your brooms out sox fans! Now, I have to admit I am not a baseball fan. I am not even really a spectator of the sport other than the world series, that is when I get slightly interested. Needless to say, I am not a Red Sox fan… but I did happen to see them beat the Yankees and go on to win the world series not too long ago. Now if memory serves me right, because I cant cheat and look it up on the internet… get to that, before this they hadn’t won the title in over eighty years! Yes, that is 8-0. Whoa! That is a long time.
Side note: Now, my aggies haven’t won a National Championship (yep, that is in capitals) since 1939, do the math folks… that is on 68 years. All of these true Red Sox fans are now, not only my idols, but show me that there is still hope! That if I can hold on long enough, and if modern medicine can just keep me alive, I too could be sitting in the stands, with my age spots, my tri-focals fixed on the score board, my hearing aids, my iron lung, and fresh donned Depends and see my aggies win a Nation Championship… you just need patience!!!
So, the Red Sox fans of this generation now get a second world series (still not sure of the capitals) to celebrate. There is gonna be some serious cases of sclerosis of the liver in Bean Town (capitalized for emphasis) and beyond!!! Now, I do have a Red Sox fan in my life, and that fan is a die hard and drink harder fan!!! Her name is Bella, and Bella is super fan. She dressed for Halloween as a crazed Red Sox fan, not because she wanted to, but because she was supporting her Sox on their way to sweep. What better way to celebrate? Now, Bella turned 30 just this past weekend… quite a milestone and something to really celebrate. For her celebration I got her a cake… not just any cake. Sure it was made of flour and water and all the usual stuff… but this cake embodied the Red Sox… it literally was a symbol of the Sox… on top of this cake was the Red Sox emblem, complete with… well, red socks! On the side of the cake, “Happy Birthday Bella”. Now, to make the cake complete it was red velvet on the inside, so still staying “in theme” if you will. When I ordered this cake, I thought Bella would really like it…I thought she would think “Wow! That is really great!” I had no idea, nor could I have guessed what the reaction would have been. It was complete adoration of the cake… built for her! She LOVED this cake (whoa, all caps!) and at one point I think she was thinking of actually not eating it, dunking it in neoprene and trying to preserve it for all time, I think she was contemplating contacting the Smithsonian (yep… capitalized) and having an entire exhibit built around it. Now, I will tell you I did leave before the cake was cut, and I have been told what that scene looked like… and trust me folks it wasn’t pretty. A waitress came by and did the deed… with symbol-killing knife she slashed into this defenseless piece of history. She cut the cake… and with that, just like clock striking midnight, the magic was gone.
On with work… work has been my main impediment in not being able to get an “update…” out, really that is the culprit. I have taken on a new position, in PSO (acronyms are always capitals) , that stands for Professional Services Organization, personally I think it should be Predominately Stressed-out and Over-worked, but I don’t think you can put that on business cards. Anyway, work has been an entirely new adventure. Currently my adventure has me in Toronto… yeah, Canada. Ah, Canada in November. Now, I have to tell you last night, I left work and it was nearly 9 o’clock EDT (weird how many capitals there are) and I called home to check in… my sister gets on the phone and tells me the weather has been “gorgeous”. Like I want to hear that. Then my mother gets on the phone, what does she want to talk about? The weather!!! “You should have been here today, the weather was incredible”. I talked to a guy from work, Faraaz, “Oh Martha, you should be here for this weather”… apparently weather of notable…remarkable… and epic proportions had fallen over Dallas and I was in Toronto!!! Oh the humanity! Not only did I miss Halloween, not only did I miss dinner, but I also missed the weather!!! And trust me folks, this was not a fun trip.
So, needless to say, my life in PSO is different than it was in R&D (threw that in, and yeah it is capitalized)… I still sit in the same cube where I have written many updates, I still eat Taco Bell for lunch and sit with my two lunchtime partners and still ponder life, love, and how come pretty much anything, including shampoo, has “yellow #5” in it. My life is very much the same, except for the tasks I do. I am no longer creating, although I still do that to a degree, no now I am stomping out camp fires… some of ‘em are pretty big. And it is hard to stomp ‘em out. My bag of tricks includes whatever knowledge I have in my brain and I couple that with my dexterous fingers that seem to have amazingly fast typing capabilities, which I am now wondering if I can parlay that into some sort of Olympic event (that is capitalized, I checked). There are days however when you wish there weren’t the camp fires, when you wish it wasn't 8pm in Toronto and you cant leave and haven’t eaten. There are those days… but then the next day, there is light, and you find yourself… still cold and lonely in Toronto, but able to send out an “update…” and find yourself feeling a little better that you have reached out and made contact with the rest of the world, and that in that contact… the world can contact you back and let you know how nice the weather where you aren’t.
One last thing!!! Shameless plug: “Two Rooms” is latest play that Rover Dramawerks is producing, and yes, I am going to see it!! But I need all of you to see it too! My friend Joslyn got the lead role, and it gonna be great. So, do something different on a Friday night, go see a play!!! Tickets are available at http://www.roverdramawerks.com/... This is gonna be water cooler conversation you will want to be part of. J
Peace, love, and anything in Capitals!!!
Martha
Update... Oct 3, 2007
... removed for sensitivity reasons...
the next installment will be soon, please come back for that... :)
the next installment will be soon, please come back for that... :)
Update... Sept 27, 2007
Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won’t you be… my neighbor? Hi neighbor!
I am sure you are all imagining Fred Rogers in his freshly donned grey sweater and lacing up his navy keds right about now. I know I am. I used to love Mr. Rogers, and that little train that took you to the castle and land where all those hand puppets lived… I need to get one of those installed in my house. Anyway, the great thing about that show was the clarity of it all, there was nothing to wonder about… nothing to guess. You watched the show and once it was over, it was over. You could put it behind you.
Now, there is something that I have left sort of “out there” if you will. I don’t leave a lot of loose ends in my life, no dangling participles for me… thank you very much. I generally live my life, and my updates, with completeness. I like it that way. So, I find myself needing to go ahead and circle back to the “update…” that was written on June 18th of this year. Aunt Martha had taken a look at the dating scene, and upon observation found some interesting people, men actually, in that scene.
All the world is a stage… and I guess everyone’s life is a three act play. Act I – your youth, this starts at birth and the termination of this act varies from person to person… but if it lasts too long having a kid of your own definitely ends this act. Act II – your adult life, this is the part of your life where you wonder where your childhood went, and you save for your old age… it is a transitional period where you know you started out in diapers and you are heading back to them. Act III – your old age, this is where you get to spend the money that you saved but you also need to be judicious about that spending simply b/c you never know when you are going to land in a retirement home eating food that should never be pureed, which is expensive on its own and I plan on having some extra cash to bribe the nursing staff with… you see those nurses have access to EVERYONE’S medications. And even though my doctor didn’t prescribe me any happy pills those nurses could “accidentally” put one in my translucent pill cup. Start thinking of your angles now while you have more of your faculties. So, what does all of this mean? It means that the “Dating Scene” generally occupies the first scene of Act II.
So here goes… I had actually learned about several men that were in the dating pool. One of these men had embarked upon a “Summer of Hot”. This is an excerpt from that update…
Man #2… Is nearly thirty, he is twenty-nine so is he staring thirty in the face. This sterling example of male maturity has definitely taken up where Seinfeld’s George Costanza left off. Now, bear in mind that George Costanza was a fictional character that was brought to fruition with the sole purpose of entertaining… not teaching, “Seinfeld” was not an educational program and I think maybe we need to start putting disclaimers on fictional sit-coms… “Do Not Try This At Home” streaming along the bottom of the screen. Apparently, George and his “Summer of George” has spawned the idea that this young, for lack of better or more fitting term, man to go ahead and embark upon his “Summer of Hot”. He is surrounding himself with only “hot” women for the entire summer. Yes, be forewarned, this guy is out there! He is not dating you to date you… he is dating you because you are hot. But make no bones about it, he will not be dating you for long. Now, this guy has become a source of constant entertainment for his fellow co-workers. He has also disclosed that he “only has one more summer of hot” in him. Apparently a “summer of hot” takes a lot out of a person. Now, I do believe that the “summer of hot” can only be acted upon by a man. I don’t think a woman, especially one of my advanced years, could embrace a “summer of hot” with much efficacy. I think if I wanted to start a “summer of bald” or a “summer of beer guts” or even a “summer of divorced and over thirty-five” I think I could be successful in surrounding myself with one of the extremely narrow sects of the population. But why limit myself, when I could date any number of those and really mix it up! I am sure that these woman (bless their hearts) are hot, but from what has been related to me is that they aren’t the brightest of women. So this man, is purposefully exposing himself to mind-numbing conversation of plastic surgery, why waxing is better than shaving, and the latest scoop on MTV’s “The Real World” in order to have some eye candy. My guess is that his “Summer of Hot” may need to be followed by a “Fall of Reading”… otherwise he may not be able to communicate still with the rest of us.
I checked my calendar recently and noticed… the summer is over!!! Which means the “summer of hot” has come to a close. I have always been a curious little creature, and as I thought about the summer being over… I started wondering how the “summer of hot” went. I wondered if this “summer of hot” was all it was cracked up to be. Was the journey into “hotness” something the cleansed the soul? Tainted the spirit? Dumbed down the brain? Or just drained the wallet? I had to know… I had to find out… I had to talk to the man that had walked the path. So I did. Here it is… the post mortem on the “summer of hot”.
Now remember the “summer of hot” means that you go where hot people go and do the things that hot people do, and immerse your life in this Paris Hilton lifestyle… “yeah, that’s hot”. This journey did not go as it was planned. The “summer of hot” turned into the “summer of sog” due to the torrential down pours that we had this summer. So the idea of hanging out at the lake with all these hot women running around… well, didn’t happen in the frequency that it should have. It did happen though. He did go to a water hole of some kind and see hot women take off their bikini tops and jump from a low bridge into the water. Now, these women did this for free. At least the dancers at the bars are getting paid! At least they are parlaying their exhibitions into a cash generating business… these girls… got nothing for their efforts. This is why “girls gone wild” has been so lucrative. The guy that films that… he is living the “summer of hot” and getting paid to do it!!! I am sure every man wishes he was him, don’t you love capitalism!!! I digress, anyway with all the rain there weren’t never ending supply of women in bikinis. So, what do you do when you cant go outside… you go to the bar!
This is rich… so this guy goes to the bar… and there he is sitting at a table, the table next to him has two women occupying it… and both are drinking. There is a salsa band playing (there should always be a salsa band in a ‘summer of hot’ story) and one of the girls is very “hot”. She has dark hair, olive colored skin and bright blue eyes (those could be colored contacts but who knows, more importantly who cares… this is the ‘summer of hot’ and you don’t scrutinize in that situation). Anyway, her wing man is there and she is not hot. This woman is reported to look a lot like Angelina Jolie. Btw, when men tell stories about a hot girl… that hot girl ALWAYS ends up looking like Angelina Jolie, even if in real life she looks like and IS Mary Lou Retton. The hot girl gets up to dance, and it is looking at our warrior of hot and is dancing to her salsa music. She keeps dance. She keeps staring. So what does our hero do, he decides it would be a very “summer of hot” thing to do to go over and start up a conversation with Mrs. Pitt the international hot woman of mystery. After about an hour she asks him to walk her to her car because she has to go… and he said that “as a gentleman he walked her to her car”. Does anyone else buy that? “As a gentleman”? I don’t think so… I would venture to say, as a “horn dog” this was his last chance for any sort of physical contact with this epitome of hotness. He said that he walked her and then BOOM! They started making out like high school kids at prom. After they came up for air and dried themselves off they exchanged phone numbers. He fully expected to be seeing her again, and making out again I am sure. Did she call, no. Did she text message, yes. The content… “I had a really good time, but I have a boyfriend and a son and I cannot do anything else with you”. Whoa! A boyfriend and a son… yeah, she has enough men in her life… move on!!! Side note: I think the whole text messaging people important information like that is pretty cowardly. You know… stand up and be counted!!! Do you think Angelina Jolie would text message Brad, “I just adopted another kid, hope you don’t mind... it's a green one! I have always wanted a green one!”. No way.
The “summer of hot” came to a close with an ironic twist. This man had been looking for hotness all summer, seeking it out in order to bathe in it, and on the very last day, in the very last hour, with the very last moments hanging in the air… he met someone he is dating. Is she an aspiring actress? No. Is she an underwear model? No. Is she a Hooters waitress? No. She is a teacher!!! The “summer of hot” may indeed be followed by a “fall of reading”… God, I love it when I am right!!!!
There you go people… you want a summer of hot… hit the PTA meetings and start trolling the staff!!!
That is all from my cube… hope your cube comes with a door!
Peace, love, and “end scene!”
Martha
I am sure you are all imagining Fred Rogers in his freshly donned grey sweater and lacing up his navy keds right about now. I know I am. I used to love Mr. Rogers, and that little train that took you to the castle and land where all those hand puppets lived… I need to get one of those installed in my house. Anyway, the great thing about that show was the clarity of it all, there was nothing to wonder about… nothing to guess. You watched the show and once it was over, it was over. You could put it behind you.
Now, there is something that I have left sort of “out there” if you will. I don’t leave a lot of loose ends in my life, no dangling participles for me… thank you very much. I generally live my life, and my updates, with completeness. I like it that way. So, I find myself needing to go ahead and circle back to the “update…” that was written on June 18th of this year. Aunt Martha had taken a look at the dating scene, and upon observation found some interesting people, men actually, in that scene.
All the world is a stage… and I guess everyone’s life is a three act play. Act I – your youth, this starts at birth and the termination of this act varies from person to person… but if it lasts too long having a kid of your own definitely ends this act. Act II – your adult life, this is the part of your life where you wonder where your childhood went, and you save for your old age… it is a transitional period where you know you started out in diapers and you are heading back to them. Act III – your old age, this is where you get to spend the money that you saved but you also need to be judicious about that spending simply b/c you never know when you are going to land in a retirement home eating food that should never be pureed, which is expensive on its own and I plan on having some extra cash to bribe the nursing staff with… you see those nurses have access to EVERYONE’S medications. And even though my doctor didn’t prescribe me any happy pills those nurses could “accidentally” put one in my translucent pill cup. Start thinking of your angles now while you have more of your faculties. So, what does all of this mean? It means that the “Dating Scene” generally occupies the first scene of Act II.
So here goes… I had actually learned about several men that were in the dating pool. One of these men had embarked upon a “Summer of Hot”. This is an excerpt from that update…
Man #2… Is nearly thirty, he is twenty-nine so is he staring thirty in the face. This sterling example of male maturity has definitely taken up where Seinfeld’s George Costanza left off. Now, bear in mind that George Costanza was a fictional character that was brought to fruition with the sole purpose of entertaining… not teaching, “Seinfeld” was not an educational program and I think maybe we need to start putting disclaimers on fictional sit-coms… “Do Not Try This At Home” streaming along the bottom of the screen. Apparently, George and his “Summer of George” has spawned the idea that this young, for lack of better or more fitting term, man to go ahead and embark upon his “Summer of Hot”. He is surrounding himself with only “hot” women for the entire summer. Yes, be forewarned, this guy is out there! He is not dating you to date you… he is dating you because you are hot. But make no bones about it, he will not be dating you for long. Now, this guy has become a source of constant entertainment for his fellow co-workers. He has also disclosed that he “only has one more summer of hot” in him. Apparently a “summer of hot” takes a lot out of a person. Now, I do believe that the “summer of hot” can only be acted upon by a man. I don’t think a woman, especially one of my advanced years, could embrace a “summer of hot” with much efficacy. I think if I wanted to start a “summer of bald” or a “summer of beer guts” or even a “summer of divorced and over thirty-five” I think I could be successful in surrounding myself with one of the extremely narrow sects of the population. But why limit myself, when I could date any number of those and really mix it up! I am sure that these woman (bless their hearts) are hot, but from what has been related to me is that they aren’t the brightest of women. So this man, is purposefully exposing himself to mind-numbing conversation of plastic surgery, why waxing is better than shaving, and the latest scoop on MTV’s “The Real World” in order to have some eye candy. My guess is that his “Summer of Hot” may need to be followed by a “Fall of Reading”… otherwise he may not be able to communicate still with the rest of us.
I checked my calendar recently and noticed… the summer is over!!! Which means the “summer of hot” has come to a close. I have always been a curious little creature, and as I thought about the summer being over… I started wondering how the “summer of hot” went. I wondered if this “summer of hot” was all it was cracked up to be. Was the journey into “hotness” something the cleansed the soul? Tainted the spirit? Dumbed down the brain? Or just drained the wallet? I had to know… I had to find out… I had to talk to the man that had walked the path. So I did. Here it is… the post mortem on the “summer of hot”.
Now remember the “summer of hot” means that you go where hot people go and do the things that hot people do, and immerse your life in this Paris Hilton lifestyle… “yeah, that’s hot”. This journey did not go as it was planned. The “summer of hot” turned into the “summer of sog” due to the torrential down pours that we had this summer. So the idea of hanging out at the lake with all these hot women running around… well, didn’t happen in the frequency that it should have. It did happen though. He did go to a water hole of some kind and see hot women take off their bikini tops and jump from a low bridge into the water. Now, these women did this for free. At least the dancers at the bars are getting paid! At least they are parlaying their exhibitions into a cash generating business… these girls… got nothing for their efforts. This is why “girls gone wild” has been so lucrative. The guy that films that… he is living the “summer of hot” and getting paid to do it!!! I am sure every man wishes he was him, don’t you love capitalism!!! I digress, anyway with all the rain there weren’t never ending supply of women in bikinis. So, what do you do when you cant go outside… you go to the bar!
This is rich… so this guy goes to the bar… and there he is sitting at a table, the table next to him has two women occupying it… and both are drinking. There is a salsa band playing (there should always be a salsa band in a ‘summer of hot’ story) and one of the girls is very “hot”. She has dark hair, olive colored skin and bright blue eyes (those could be colored contacts but who knows, more importantly who cares… this is the ‘summer of hot’ and you don’t scrutinize in that situation). Anyway, her wing man is there and she is not hot. This woman is reported to look a lot like Angelina Jolie. Btw, when men tell stories about a hot girl… that hot girl ALWAYS ends up looking like Angelina Jolie, even if in real life she looks like and IS Mary Lou Retton. The hot girl gets up to dance, and it is looking at our warrior of hot and is dancing to her salsa music. She keeps dance. She keeps staring. So what does our hero do, he decides it would be a very “summer of hot” thing to do to go over and start up a conversation with Mrs. Pitt the international hot woman of mystery. After about an hour she asks him to walk her to her car because she has to go… and he said that “as a gentleman he walked her to her car”. Does anyone else buy that? “As a gentleman”? I don’t think so… I would venture to say, as a “horn dog” this was his last chance for any sort of physical contact with this epitome of hotness. He said that he walked her and then BOOM! They started making out like high school kids at prom. After they came up for air and dried themselves off they exchanged phone numbers. He fully expected to be seeing her again, and making out again I am sure. Did she call, no. Did she text message, yes. The content… “I had a really good time, but I have a boyfriend and a son and I cannot do anything else with you”. Whoa! A boyfriend and a son… yeah, she has enough men in her life… move on!!! Side note: I think the whole text messaging people important information like that is pretty cowardly. You know… stand up and be counted!!! Do you think Angelina Jolie would text message Brad, “I just adopted another kid, hope you don’t mind... it's a green one! I have always wanted a green one!”. No way.
The “summer of hot” came to a close with an ironic twist. This man had been looking for hotness all summer, seeking it out in order to bathe in it, and on the very last day, in the very last hour, with the very last moments hanging in the air… he met someone he is dating. Is she an aspiring actress? No. Is she an underwear model? No. Is she a Hooters waitress? No. She is a teacher!!! The “summer of hot” may indeed be followed by a “fall of reading”… God, I love it when I am right!!!!
There you go people… you want a summer of hot… hit the PTA meetings and start trolling the staff!!!
That is all from my cube… hope your cube comes with a door!
Peace, love, and “end scene!”
Martha
Update... Sept 17, 2007
Good afternoon consumers! Let’s dish, shall we?
Ok, so I find myself in an exceptional mood this fine Monday afternoon.
Monday’s are historically not good days for me. I hate Mondays. To quote “Office Space”, I always have a case of the Mondays. This isn’t a Monday phobia, I am not afraid of Mondays. It isn’t even the fact that it is Monday, it is more a function of the fact that my weekend is over!!! So, if Monday is a holiday… then I hate Tuesday. Do you see the trend? It is whatever day that killed my weekend is the day I hate. This is one of the trillion reasons I am looking forward to retirement. My mother is retired, and that woman is in a permanent state of Saturday. Everyday is Saturday! She can stay up late every night, sleep in as late as she likes, wear whatever she wants to wear… no dress code!!! She only has to turn her computer on to check email, and best of all… lunch is anything you’d like for as long as you’d like it! No geographic restrictions… no having to get back to the office… THERE IS NO OFFICE!!! I love my mother, and I love the Saturday-life that she leads. I want to lead that life!!! I have so many years ahead of me… but trust me folks, I am going to the poster child for retirement. You are going to have to surgically remove the smile from my face, when I turn the page of my life and the only word on the next page is “Saturday”.
Consumer note: Just like retirement needs to be budgeted for… so do the Saturdays of your life! Save up during the week so you can really splurge… eat Taco Bell during the week, pop open a can of anything for dinner… because you are gonna want to have some cash to really live it up on Saturday. For your retirement… seriously people… your 401k should be your best friend. One day, I want to be able to loan Warren Buffett money.
So, let’s see what happened this past Saturday. This past Saturday, for me, was awesome… let’s see what it brought me. I woke up Saturday and was feeling good. I had been really under the weather last week. I was feeling so bad last week, that I literally thought that this may be what happens to you right before you die. It was bad people. I rallied though and even felt pretty good on Saturday. I could breathe at least two breaths before coughing… that is what I consider improvement. I was feeling so much better than I had in the prior days that I felt lighter… free-er. I felt like, not only was the monkey off my back, but that the elephant in the room that was sitting on top of the monkey on my back was completely gone as well!!! Angela called early in the morning, “What are you doing?” she asked. “Not too much.” I answered. And then she said it… “Well, the world is our oyster my friend!!!!” This became the anthem of the day. The world was our oyster! Well, at least Dallas and the surrounding areas were our oyster! And what an oyster it was! I head down to her apartment, and let me tell you... driving from Frisco to White Rock never seemed easier. That monkey is totally gone… it was a breeze… I felt good, my car seemed to be peppier, my CD’s seemed to lilt through the air, my karma was bright pink as I barreled down the Tollway. I pick her up… front door service no less… and we head over to Hotel ZaZa to have brunch at Dragon Fly.
Consumer note: I love Hotel ZaZa, and that is weird for me. There is something about this place. It is chic, but that’s not it. It is soothing, but that’s not it. It has the coolest robes, but that’s not it. It is totally indescribable but if you ever want to “get outta town” without leaving Dallas… rent a room at ZaZa. I co-hosted a bachelorette party there and got upgraded to a Magnificent Seven Suite… it was truly magnificent! Holy crap that room was bigger than my house and was so much better decorated. It was decked out. I felt like Martha “Puffy” Newton or P. Newty Martha or something really bling like that, and that is the feeling you get at ZaZa… go down and grab yourself a Saturday of that!
There we are sitting outside by the pool at ZaZa. The day was perfect for this, the weather was warm but not too warm. They had the misters on, and the little fountains going in the pool for atmosphere. It was just great. The waiter came over to talk to us about the menu and mentioned that they had a “bottomless mimosa” for $15. What?!?! That is truly excellent and what a great way to start your Saturday… that is, if you like Orange Juice!!! I do NOT like orange juice. I don’t like oranges. I do wear the color orange, and I don’t root for teams whose main color is orange… hello, UT?! But Angela does like orange juice and happily ordered that. I felt it behooved me to ask, “Do you have a bottomless Bloody Mary?” the waiter turned to me and said “No.” I immediately began not liking him. I ordered my bloody mary and we sat there chatting like true sophisticates. Happily talking about the issues of the day over our morning cocktails, and being served while at the pool. I am so bling. We don’t speed through the meal, and we linger a bit longer than we normally would. I mean obviously it was Saturday and there was no rush, the world was our oyster, so that meant the world would wait for us. Angela had a bottomless glass that kept getting refilled so there was no need to leave thirsty. And I think we were both just really enjoying the leisure tempo of our day and its glorious beginning. We finally head out and decide our next destination should be North Park.
Consumer note: North Park Mall has been re-modeled. Do not go to North Park on a Saturday. Even if the world is your oyster… they are too many other people in that part of the oyster on a Saturday.
We go to North Park Mall, and it is packed. I parked just outside of Nordstrom, in the garage and stroll in. We do a bit of shopping there, and then proceed to enter around six other stores in the mall. We finally had had enough shopping and decide to head for the car. Now the important part about heading to your car is remembering where your car is. I really believed that my car was on the second floor of the garage. I believed it with all of my being. I left Nordstrom walked into the garage, onto the second floor, and looked and didn’t see my car. I was immediately alarmed. This sense of panic literally washed over me… it made my face hot, my neck sweat, and my heart race… it was like a pulled the fire alarm at school and was sitting outside the principal’s office waiting for punishment. My mind raced, I KNEW that was where it was supposed to be. It took nearly five minutes of me walking around blindly and anxiously before I decided to go up to the third floor. I did, and there it sat…my beautiful, completely not stolen, car. It was great to have it back… even though it was never gone.
Consumer note: Panic early and often.
We headed back to White Rock Lake and went for a walk. It started to get really toasty out there, so we cut the walk short. Why over exert yourself on a Saturday such as this, right? We ended up going back to get the car and to go get pedicures. There is nothing more relaxing that a pedicure. Someone is there not only massaging your feet and lower legs, but they are also making your feet look pretty for weeks to come. It is the perfect combination of aesthetics meets relaxation… you cant get that anywhere else. There isn’t anything else out there that provides you with beauty and relaxation without any pain involved whatsoever. We walk in and we wait for a paltry five minutes maybe before they sit each of us into our big, huge, leathery, oh-so-comfy massage chairs (I love that part too). At this point the only thing that could make this better is if they handed me a martini and a winning lottery ticket. Other than that… I was good.
Consumer note: The pedicure place that we went to was down off of Mockingbird… apparently teenagers go there. The pedicure was going flawlessly and much relaxation was being had by all until a teenager sat down next to Angela. The worst thing in the world happened, she recognized one of her friends that was sitting on the OTHER SIDE of the salon… so what does she do, does she move over to be next to her friend… no, she just starts talking at an unbelievably loud volume in order for her friend to hear her. They talk about stuff that made me laugh and blush and want to beat the crap out of her all at the same time. She goes to Ursuline Academy in Dallas, her friend goes to Bishop Lynch. They were talking about homecoming and who is dating who… one of their friends apparently has a boyfriend and it is serious… but the girl doesn’t know if she wants to get MARRIED yet. Hello!!! I am 33, and that is struggle for me to get to that mindset!!! Omg!! This is what they are grappling with? I say… finish high school, go to college, do some traveling, and start paying taxes before you decide if you want to get married!!! Geez!!! It was hard not to bust out laughing… but seriously if you go in to get a pedicure and you see some teenage girls talking, know this… the conversation will under no circumstances stop or even hit a lull, it will get louder, it will get more inane, it will at some point make you want to abandon your pedicure in order to save your brain cells, but it will also make you laugh with pity.
After my pedicure I dropped Angela off, it had been a big day, and I still had more to do… I had a play to go see Saturday night! Which I did. It was good, but the world didn’t feel like my oyster anymore. It was just my world again. It was a fleeting day, but one I will always remember. One filled with possibilities and a pearl around every corner. I hope your Saturday was that good… heck I hope this Saturday is even better… maybe this Saturday San Francisco will be my oyster!!!
Enjoy the week!!!
Peace, love, and oysters!
Martha
Ok, so I find myself in an exceptional mood this fine Monday afternoon.
Monday’s are historically not good days for me. I hate Mondays. To quote “Office Space”, I always have a case of the Mondays. This isn’t a Monday phobia, I am not afraid of Mondays. It isn’t even the fact that it is Monday, it is more a function of the fact that my weekend is over!!! So, if Monday is a holiday… then I hate Tuesday. Do you see the trend? It is whatever day that killed my weekend is the day I hate. This is one of the trillion reasons I am looking forward to retirement. My mother is retired, and that woman is in a permanent state of Saturday. Everyday is Saturday! She can stay up late every night, sleep in as late as she likes, wear whatever she wants to wear… no dress code!!! She only has to turn her computer on to check email, and best of all… lunch is anything you’d like for as long as you’d like it! No geographic restrictions… no having to get back to the office… THERE IS NO OFFICE!!! I love my mother, and I love the Saturday-life that she leads. I want to lead that life!!! I have so many years ahead of me… but trust me folks, I am going to the poster child for retirement. You are going to have to surgically remove the smile from my face, when I turn the page of my life and the only word on the next page is “Saturday”.
Consumer note: Just like retirement needs to be budgeted for… so do the Saturdays of your life! Save up during the week so you can really splurge… eat Taco Bell during the week, pop open a can of anything for dinner… because you are gonna want to have some cash to really live it up on Saturday. For your retirement… seriously people… your 401k should be your best friend. One day, I want to be able to loan Warren Buffett money.
So, let’s see what happened this past Saturday. This past Saturday, for me, was awesome… let’s see what it brought me. I woke up Saturday and was feeling good. I had been really under the weather last week. I was feeling so bad last week, that I literally thought that this may be what happens to you right before you die. It was bad people. I rallied though and even felt pretty good on Saturday. I could breathe at least two breaths before coughing… that is what I consider improvement. I was feeling so much better than I had in the prior days that I felt lighter… free-er. I felt like, not only was the monkey off my back, but that the elephant in the room that was sitting on top of the monkey on my back was completely gone as well!!! Angela called early in the morning, “What are you doing?” she asked. “Not too much.” I answered. And then she said it… “Well, the world is our oyster my friend!!!!” This became the anthem of the day. The world was our oyster! Well, at least Dallas and the surrounding areas were our oyster! And what an oyster it was! I head down to her apartment, and let me tell you... driving from Frisco to White Rock never seemed easier. That monkey is totally gone… it was a breeze… I felt good, my car seemed to be peppier, my CD’s seemed to lilt through the air, my karma was bright pink as I barreled down the Tollway. I pick her up… front door service no less… and we head over to Hotel ZaZa to have brunch at Dragon Fly.
Consumer note: I love Hotel ZaZa, and that is weird for me. There is something about this place. It is chic, but that’s not it. It is soothing, but that’s not it. It has the coolest robes, but that’s not it. It is totally indescribable but if you ever want to “get outta town” without leaving Dallas… rent a room at ZaZa. I co-hosted a bachelorette party there and got upgraded to a Magnificent Seven Suite… it was truly magnificent! Holy crap that room was bigger than my house and was so much better decorated. It was decked out. I felt like Martha “Puffy” Newton or P. Newty Martha or something really bling like that, and that is the feeling you get at ZaZa… go down and grab yourself a Saturday of that!
There we are sitting outside by the pool at ZaZa. The day was perfect for this, the weather was warm but not too warm. They had the misters on, and the little fountains going in the pool for atmosphere. It was just great. The waiter came over to talk to us about the menu and mentioned that they had a “bottomless mimosa” for $15. What?!?! That is truly excellent and what a great way to start your Saturday… that is, if you like Orange Juice!!! I do NOT like orange juice. I don’t like oranges. I do wear the color orange, and I don’t root for teams whose main color is orange… hello, UT?! But Angela does like orange juice and happily ordered that. I felt it behooved me to ask, “Do you have a bottomless Bloody Mary?” the waiter turned to me and said “No.” I immediately began not liking him. I ordered my bloody mary and we sat there chatting like true sophisticates. Happily talking about the issues of the day over our morning cocktails, and being served while at the pool. I am so bling. We don’t speed through the meal, and we linger a bit longer than we normally would. I mean obviously it was Saturday and there was no rush, the world was our oyster, so that meant the world would wait for us. Angela had a bottomless glass that kept getting refilled so there was no need to leave thirsty. And I think we were both just really enjoying the leisure tempo of our day and its glorious beginning. We finally head out and decide our next destination should be North Park.
Consumer note: North Park Mall has been re-modeled. Do not go to North Park on a Saturday. Even if the world is your oyster… they are too many other people in that part of the oyster on a Saturday.
We go to North Park Mall, and it is packed. I parked just outside of Nordstrom, in the garage and stroll in. We do a bit of shopping there, and then proceed to enter around six other stores in the mall. We finally had had enough shopping and decide to head for the car. Now the important part about heading to your car is remembering where your car is. I really believed that my car was on the second floor of the garage. I believed it with all of my being. I left Nordstrom walked into the garage, onto the second floor, and looked and didn’t see my car. I was immediately alarmed. This sense of panic literally washed over me… it made my face hot, my neck sweat, and my heart race… it was like a pulled the fire alarm at school and was sitting outside the principal’s office waiting for punishment. My mind raced, I KNEW that was where it was supposed to be. It took nearly five minutes of me walking around blindly and anxiously before I decided to go up to the third floor. I did, and there it sat…my beautiful, completely not stolen, car. It was great to have it back… even though it was never gone.
Consumer note: Panic early and often.
We headed back to White Rock Lake and went for a walk. It started to get really toasty out there, so we cut the walk short. Why over exert yourself on a Saturday such as this, right? We ended up going back to get the car and to go get pedicures. There is nothing more relaxing that a pedicure. Someone is there not only massaging your feet and lower legs, but they are also making your feet look pretty for weeks to come. It is the perfect combination of aesthetics meets relaxation… you cant get that anywhere else. There isn’t anything else out there that provides you with beauty and relaxation without any pain involved whatsoever. We walk in and we wait for a paltry five minutes maybe before they sit each of us into our big, huge, leathery, oh-so-comfy massage chairs (I love that part too). At this point the only thing that could make this better is if they handed me a martini and a winning lottery ticket. Other than that… I was good.
Consumer note: The pedicure place that we went to was down off of Mockingbird… apparently teenagers go there. The pedicure was going flawlessly and much relaxation was being had by all until a teenager sat down next to Angela. The worst thing in the world happened, she recognized one of her friends that was sitting on the OTHER SIDE of the salon… so what does she do, does she move over to be next to her friend… no, she just starts talking at an unbelievably loud volume in order for her friend to hear her. They talk about stuff that made me laugh and blush and want to beat the crap out of her all at the same time. She goes to Ursuline Academy in Dallas, her friend goes to Bishop Lynch. They were talking about homecoming and who is dating who… one of their friends apparently has a boyfriend and it is serious… but the girl doesn’t know if she wants to get MARRIED yet. Hello!!! I am 33, and that is struggle for me to get to that mindset!!! Omg!! This is what they are grappling with? I say… finish high school, go to college, do some traveling, and start paying taxes before you decide if you want to get married!!! Geez!!! It was hard not to bust out laughing… but seriously if you go in to get a pedicure and you see some teenage girls talking, know this… the conversation will under no circumstances stop or even hit a lull, it will get louder, it will get more inane, it will at some point make you want to abandon your pedicure in order to save your brain cells, but it will also make you laugh with pity.
After my pedicure I dropped Angela off, it had been a big day, and I still had more to do… I had a play to go see Saturday night! Which I did. It was good, but the world didn’t feel like my oyster anymore. It was just my world again. It was a fleeting day, but one I will always remember. One filled with possibilities and a pearl around every corner. I hope your Saturday was that good… heck I hope this Saturday is even better… maybe this Saturday San Francisco will be my oyster!!!
Enjoy the week!!!
Peace, love, and oysters!
Martha
Update... Sept 5, 2007
Welcome to the latest installment of “Update…”, my little life has been quite eventful as of late… so I am only gonna skim the surface… that is all I have time for, I do actually HAVE a job and actually need to at least fake doing it sometimes.
Quick random story: So, I was in the shower this morning… I do that regularly. I also do my best thinking in the shower, it seems to be my temple of thought or my sauna of meditation or just more or less where I get clean. Anyway, I was going to be having dinner with a new friend this week. Now, this is a new friend, and not someone that I know personally, but this new friend is pregnant. This throws a wrench in my normal social patterns. I mean the stereotypes dictate that this person could be in any number of emotional states, and it is not only up to me to discern this quickly upon introduction but to navigate these perilous waters with little knowledge of this person and their likes and dislikes… talk about being a little nervous, I was actually trying to figure out how to approach the situation. So, I thought about do’s and don’t’s… like… don’t touch her belly. Don’t talk about liquor and order a double martini with a Makers chaser. Do be yourself, but if you see her burst into tears detour the conversation to something that pertains to her… Don’t talk too much about her job, you don’t know if she is leaving that world behind and regretting it… or if she is leaving that world behind and loving the fact that those bastards are history. Don’t talk about the cute little dress you just bought in a size 4, and how it really makes ANYONE look slim. Do you see the pitfalls here? Do you see the myriad of potholes in the road? That road looks like a driving range on beginners day! Now, I must admit that I am a little afraid of having children, not raising children, but actually giving birth. I think most women are, actually I think it is most women who have never done it. I am sure it is like sky diving the first time you do it, it’s scary… the second time… no big deal. The difference? In sky diving you have someone else strapped to you in a tandem jump… you are truly in it together. To quote Leonardo DiCaprio “You jump, I jump”. In that birthing room, no one else is gonna give birth that baby but you! Then I started thinking of the movie “Alien”… and that thing that popped out of that man’s chest… are you with me? Pregnancy is much like that. Your body has been taken over by an alien being, that is literally going to pry its way out of you when it is damn good and ready. Yeah, I am sure everyone in that theater was screaming their heads off, except the women that had already given birth. I could just see two female friends sitting together in the theater, one a mother, the other a non-mother… the scene comes on, and pandemonium goes up in the theater, men are screaming, the one friend is screaming, the other woman leans over, still eating her popcorn and says, “you know, when something is trying to get out of you like that, it isn’t that bad. And look at how quick that was for him, if ONLY I had had it that easy!” She then leans back into her chair and resumes her popcorn consumption… completely unphased by what she has just seen. You gotta love those women who have given birth, they are my heroes! Personally, I feel that pregnancy and delivery is something I must tolerate in order to have the children that I want… can I get an ‘Amen’?
On with the “update…”
I just got back from New York, yes the Big Apple baby! It was my sister, Mary Pat, 50th birthday bash, and what a bash it was!!! It was like nothing could go wrong… everything ran like a well oiled machine, for the most part. We hit our first snafu on the way out of town. My sister Laura, my mother and I headed to the airport early Friday morning to catch a 7am flight to LaGuardia. We arrive at the airport, it is 6am. We park the car and look at the massive security lines… the sight of it hits all three of us at the same time, we are going to miss this flight. We get our bags checked in and get in the security line that literally looks like “American Idol” audition lines. The line is forever long, and stretches around three roped off zig-zag lines, and then proceeds down a long hallway. I look at Laura, and we decide to leave mom in the line and seek out another line… “Leave your phone on we tell her”, the lady standing next to my mother says “If your phone rings, I am coming with you!”. We both run to another section of the terminal, in an all out sprint. We find the next line. It is LONG, but not as long as the other line… we call, and my mother and she and her new friend make their way to us. We are standing, we are waiting, we are checking our watches every five minutes when suddenly one of the terminal employees says, “First-class and platinum members in this line.” That line is SHORT! And I say, “Gold members?” and she says “Yes.” Cha-ching!!!! Yahtzee baby, I jump over to get into the line and my sister says “I’m not gold.” I grab her hand and pull her out of line and say “I am! Let’s move.” She grabs my mother, the stranger that has been following us around comes too! We may have chance! We are waiting, they are checking everyone’s carry on bags… literally going inside of all of them. We have twenty minutes before the flight takes off, and we get to the front of the line. Laura kicks off her flip flops, I kick off my flip flops, my 70 year old mother wore tennis shoes! She is unlacing them! The time is ticking by, I can hear my heart beating in my chest, as she slowly leans over to unlace and get these shoes slowly off of her feet. Finally they are off, and I whip them into a bin, she puts her carry on bag into a bin, her purse in a bin, and we walk thru the security scanner… then I hear… “BAG CHECK!!” What?!?! It is my mother’s carry on!!! They whip out the five plastic bags that she has inside her brown carry on, saying “You can only have one bag ma’am”. You have got to be kidding me?!?! I tell Laura to GO!… Save yourself! Laura heads for the plane, I am there waiting for Mom, because if by some miracle we can get her out of here, I can run with the bag to the plane and she will then only have to steam her own weight! The lady consolidates everything into one bag, she wont let me touch anything, she wont let me help her, she wont hurry, and the clock isn’t slowing down!!! Finally this cartoon of a security officer lets us go, my mom is running as fast as she can, which is slower than my fastest walking pace, and I take the lead, I have her purse, my purse, her carry on and flip flops on as I speed down the terminal. We get on the plane and even have a couple of minutes to spare… New York, here I come!!!
We get in, and meet my sister and my aunt at the airport. We didn’t have any transportation arranged, but my mother had called ahead and said that we should take a “super shuttle”. So, we get our bags and I call “super shuttle” to see if they can pick us up. The man on the phone asks, “What name is the reservation under?”. I say, “We don’t have one.” Once he started laughing, I simply hung up. We managed to procure ourselves a nice shiny white limousine to take us to our hotel, take that Mr. Super Shuttle!!! From then on the weekend went flawlessly.
I had made up an itinerary and everything went perfect, or at least really close to it. There were a few “wild cards” that were built into the weekend, mostly breakfast places and such. My mother however is also a “wild card”. I love my mother, I couldn’t ask for a better one, she really is great, and a lot of fun to be around. Now, my mother was married to my father for 35 years. My father was REALLY outgoing. Never met a stranger. I think since his death, my mother has tried to fill that spot with enthusiasm. That being the case, my mother is friendly and will really talk to anyone. The only problem is that my mother doesn’t always who, or what, she is talking to. On Saturday morning we all went to breakfast, and whenever you eat in New York you try to use the restroom… the simple fact is that you don’t know when you will find another one to use. So, we all head to the ladies’ room. My mother included. There is quite a line at the ladies’ room, and so I allowed my mother to go ahead of me in line. There was a “woman” standing in line just behind me. She was 6’2” tall, in flat shoes, had an adam’s apple, extremely narrow hips, was wearing a wig, and heavy makeup. The line had extended beyond the bathroom and was pouring out into the hall, and she was holding the door open, to let in some air. My mother washes her hands and is ready to leave when she encounters this “woman”. My mother says, “Wow, you could be the doorman!” My mother trying to be funny, laughs a little and says “Oh, I’m sorry, door-person”. At this point it is everything I can do to keep a straight face, I don’t want to laugh… I know that my mother is just being herself, and there is NO WAY she knows this is a man she is talking to. The woman tells her, that the line is long, and my mom says something about the line to the mens’ room is always so short. Her new friend says, “I have been in plenty of mens’ room before and you’re right, there is no line.” My mom now feels like she is engaged in conversation and goes further to tell her that she could start charging people for holding the door and work for tips! Finally my mother leaves. I use the restroom and all the while I am trying not to look at anyone in the eye. I just simply want out. I finally get outside and ask my mom, “Did you know that was a transvestite you were talking to?” She says, “Oh gosh, no it wasn’t!”… yeah folks, it was!
The highlight of the trip for me was high tea at the St. Regis Hotel. It was really elegant and really amazing. The presentation was phenomenal, the food was spectacular, and I felt like a “lady” or at least like a programmer paying to feel like a lady! It was honestly fantastic, if you get to New York I highly recommend it. We did see two shows, we ate non-stop, and we covered an amazing amount of ground in the 3 days that we were there. It was a great trip, one for the record books! I hope Mary Pat enjoyed it, I hope that she looks back on her 50th birthday as one of her best, I know that I will.
Until next time…
Peace, love, and door-“men”,
Martha
Quick random story: So, I was in the shower this morning… I do that regularly. I also do my best thinking in the shower, it seems to be my temple of thought or my sauna of meditation or just more or less where I get clean. Anyway, I was going to be having dinner with a new friend this week. Now, this is a new friend, and not someone that I know personally, but this new friend is pregnant. This throws a wrench in my normal social patterns. I mean the stereotypes dictate that this person could be in any number of emotional states, and it is not only up to me to discern this quickly upon introduction but to navigate these perilous waters with little knowledge of this person and their likes and dislikes… talk about being a little nervous, I was actually trying to figure out how to approach the situation. So, I thought about do’s and don’t’s… like… don’t touch her belly. Don’t talk about liquor and order a double martini with a Makers chaser. Do be yourself, but if you see her burst into tears detour the conversation to something that pertains to her… Don’t talk too much about her job, you don’t know if she is leaving that world behind and regretting it… or if she is leaving that world behind and loving the fact that those bastards are history. Don’t talk about the cute little dress you just bought in a size 4, and how it really makes ANYONE look slim. Do you see the pitfalls here? Do you see the myriad of potholes in the road? That road looks like a driving range on beginners day! Now, I must admit that I am a little afraid of having children, not raising children, but actually giving birth. I think most women are, actually I think it is most women who have never done it. I am sure it is like sky diving the first time you do it, it’s scary… the second time… no big deal. The difference? In sky diving you have someone else strapped to you in a tandem jump… you are truly in it together. To quote Leonardo DiCaprio “You jump, I jump”. In that birthing room, no one else is gonna give birth that baby but you! Then I started thinking of the movie “Alien”… and that thing that popped out of that man’s chest… are you with me? Pregnancy is much like that. Your body has been taken over by an alien being, that is literally going to pry its way out of you when it is damn good and ready. Yeah, I am sure everyone in that theater was screaming their heads off, except the women that had already given birth. I could just see two female friends sitting together in the theater, one a mother, the other a non-mother… the scene comes on, and pandemonium goes up in the theater, men are screaming, the one friend is screaming, the other woman leans over, still eating her popcorn and says, “you know, when something is trying to get out of you like that, it isn’t that bad. And look at how quick that was for him, if ONLY I had had it that easy!” She then leans back into her chair and resumes her popcorn consumption… completely unphased by what she has just seen. You gotta love those women who have given birth, they are my heroes! Personally, I feel that pregnancy and delivery is something I must tolerate in order to have the children that I want… can I get an ‘Amen’?
On with the “update…”
I just got back from New York, yes the Big Apple baby! It was my sister, Mary Pat, 50th birthday bash, and what a bash it was!!! It was like nothing could go wrong… everything ran like a well oiled machine, for the most part. We hit our first snafu on the way out of town. My sister Laura, my mother and I headed to the airport early Friday morning to catch a 7am flight to LaGuardia. We arrive at the airport, it is 6am. We park the car and look at the massive security lines… the sight of it hits all three of us at the same time, we are going to miss this flight. We get our bags checked in and get in the security line that literally looks like “American Idol” audition lines. The line is forever long, and stretches around three roped off zig-zag lines, and then proceeds down a long hallway. I look at Laura, and we decide to leave mom in the line and seek out another line… “Leave your phone on we tell her”, the lady standing next to my mother says “If your phone rings, I am coming with you!”. We both run to another section of the terminal, in an all out sprint. We find the next line. It is LONG, but not as long as the other line… we call, and my mother and she and her new friend make their way to us. We are standing, we are waiting, we are checking our watches every five minutes when suddenly one of the terminal employees says, “First-class and platinum members in this line.” That line is SHORT! And I say, “Gold members?” and she says “Yes.” Cha-ching!!!! Yahtzee baby, I jump over to get into the line and my sister says “I’m not gold.” I grab her hand and pull her out of line and say “I am! Let’s move.” She grabs my mother, the stranger that has been following us around comes too! We may have chance! We are waiting, they are checking everyone’s carry on bags… literally going inside of all of them. We have twenty minutes before the flight takes off, and we get to the front of the line. Laura kicks off her flip flops, I kick off my flip flops, my 70 year old mother wore tennis shoes! She is unlacing them! The time is ticking by, I can hear my heart beating in my chest, as she slowly leans over to unlace and get these shoes slowly off of her feet. Finally they are off, and I whip them into a bin, she puts her carry on bag into a bin, her purse in a bin, and we walk thru the security scanner… then I hear… “BAG CHECK!!” What?!?! It is my mother’s carry on!!! They whip out the five plastic bags that she has inside her brown carry on, saying “You can only have one bag ma’am”. You have got to be kidding me?!?! I tell Laura to GO!… Save yourself! Laura heads for the plane, I am there waiting for Mom, because if by some miracle we can get her out of here, I can run with the bag to the plane and she will then only have to steam her own weight! The lady consolidates everything into one bag, she wont let me touch anything, she wont let me help her, she wont hurry, and the clock isn’t slowing down!!! Finally this cartoon of a security officer lets us go, my mom is running as fast as she can, which is slower than my fastest walking pace, and I take the lead, I have her purse, my purse, her carry on and flip flops on as I speed down the terminal. We get on the plane and even have a couple of minutes to spare… New York, here I come!!!
We get in, and meet my sister and my aunt at the airport. We didn’t have any transportation arranged, but my mother had called ahead and said that we should take a “super shuttle”. So, we get our bags and I call “super shuttle” to see if they can pick us up. The man on the phone asks, “What name is the reservation under?”. I say, “We don’t have one.” Once he started laughing, I simply hung up. We managed to procure ourselves a nice shiny white limousine to take us to our hotel, take that Mr. Super Shuttle!!! From then on the weekend went flawlessly.
I had made up an itinerary and everything went perfect, or at least really close to it. There were a few “wild cards” that were built into the weekend, mostly breakfast places and such. My mother however is also a “wild card”. I love my mother, I couldn’t ask for a better one, she really is great, and a lot of fun to be around. Now, my mother was married to my father for 35 years. My father was REALLY outgoing. Never met a stranger. I think since his death, my mother has tried to fill that spot with enthusiasm. That being the case, my mother is friendly and will really talk to anyone. The only problem is that my mother doesn’t always who, or what, she is talking to. On Saturday morning we all went to breakfast, and whenever you eat in New York you try to use the restroom… the simple fact is that you don’t know when you will find another one to use. So, we all head to the ladies’ room. My mother included. There is quite a line at the ladies’ room, and so I allowed my mother to go ahead of me in line. There was a “woman” standing in line just behind me. She was 6’2” tall, in flat shoes, had an adam’s apple, extremely narrow hips, was wearing a wig, and heavy makeup. The line had extended beyond the bathroom and was pouring out into the hall, and she was holding the door open, to let in some air. My mother washes her hands and is ready to leave when she encounters this “woman”. My mother says, “Wow, you could be the doorman!” My mother trying to be funny, laughs a little and says “Oh, I’m sorry, door-person”. At this point it is everything I can do to keep a straight face, I don’t want to laugh… I know that my mother is just being herself, and there is NO WAY she knows this is a man she is talking to. The woman tells her, that the line is long, and my mom says something about the line to the mens’ room is always so short. Her new friend says, “I have been in plenty of mens’ room before and you’re right, there is no line.” My mom now feels like she is engaged in conversation and goes further to tell her that she could start charging people for holding the door and work for tips! Finally my mother leaves. I use the restroom and all the while I am trying not to look at anyone in the eye. I just simply want out. I finally get outside and ask my mom, “Did you know that was a transvestite you were talking to?” She says, “Oh gosh, no it wasn’t!”… yeah folks, it was!
The highlight of the trip for me was high tea at the St. Regis Hotel. It was really elegant and really amazing. The presentation was phenomenal, the food was spectacular, and I felt like a “lady” or at least like a programmer paying to feel like a lady! It was honestly fantastic, if you get to New York I highly recommend it. We did see two shows, we ate non-stop, and we covered an amazing amount of ground in the 3 days that we were there. It was a great trip, one for the record books! I hope Mary Pat enjoyed it, I hope that she looks back on her 50th birthday as one of her best, I know that I will.
Until next time…
Peace, love, and door-“men”,
Martha
Update.. Aug 30, 2007
Happy Thursday everyone!
I am sitting in my cube, as I do every time I write an “update…”, and thinking of this coming weekend. That is really all that is on my mind, not the past, not the present, not even the far off future, just this coming weekend. I have tunnel vision, and my cross hairs are squarely laid on this weekend.
This weekend is a three day weekend. It is Labor Day baby! This is a great holiday, and I am really looking forward to it this year. But before I delve into what my ultra-cool-don’t-you-wish-you-were-doing-it-too plans, let’s really look at what this holiday is.
Labor Day was originally conceived by the “Central Labor Union”, to give the “working man” a day off… they thought this up in 1882! These guys beat down the doors of Congress and got an actual law passed, giving the “working man” a day off. I love this idea, and I think these men were true pioneers. Visionaries even! Personally I think that it is good to give the “working man” the day off. Although I do think it is pretty ironic what the “working man” means. In this case the definition seems pretty hit-and-miss.
If you are like me, and have a desk job (whether or not that is in a cube or you have an office – complete with DOOR) you are awarded a free day off. This is a good group to be in, and in the world of “the haves” versus “the have nots”… I consider myself proudly standing with “the haves”. Now if you are a not lucky enough to have a desk job you can still stand with “the haves” if you work for the government… those government employees get all kinds of holidays and Labor Day is no exception. If you work for the Postal Service (which is no longer part of the government) you get a day off. I would say sixty to seventy percent of the adult population will be granted a day off.
Who wont be getting a day off? Anyone in the service industry! These are the “working men” that get literally screwed on this holiday. They stand on their feet all day long… in malls, in restaurants… even at the car wash! They are working, they are laboring, and they are without a day off. What do they get to do on Labor Day? Well, if you work for a retail giant like Target, you get to enjoy the sales that are put in place and the abnormal crush of customers that aren’t ever present on a Monday. You get to work maybe a longer shift than you would have otherwise, and BONUS you get to clean up more crap out of the dressing rooms then you have ever seen on a Monday. If you work at a restaurant, you will get to experience a higher volume of not just customers… but of full-family customers! Kids of all ages, from high-chairs, to boosters, to just plain screaming in the booth next to their parents… these people are here to enjoy THEIR day off, and you are there to labor… to take the order, bring the food, and clean up afterward. You may just find yourself waking up on Monday morning, and what is that you hear? What is that humming noise outside? Don’t worry that is the lawn care service outside in the blazing September heat working! This is the group I used to count myself a member of… I never mowed lawns, but I did work in the mall, I did wait tables, I did “labor’ for years watching others enjoy their holiday, and now after all of that… the holiday is mine to enjoy… to relish… and to do whatever I want and get paid while doing it! I wish everyday was Labor Day!
This Labor Day has me traveling. I will be in New York City for my sister’s birthday! I cannot wait. I am so excited… I can hardly contain myself. All of the plans are set, all of the necessary arrangements have been made and it is nearly time to leave town and start to really have some fun. My sister has never been to the Big Apple, personally I think it is a place everyone should visit, and more than once. I love to go to New York with people who have never been to New York. I love to observe how they take it all in, and sometimes it is almost like watching a new baby find its thumb for the first time. That thumb has been there throughout the baby’s life, but they are just now finding it… and now that they know it is there it is there, they are going to wiggle it, they are going to stare at it, and they are even going to try to eat it. The same is true with NYC, they always knew it was there, but now that they have found it… they want to experience all that they can.
That is all for now… I still have some packing and stuff to do, not to mention the fact that I am at work and need to actually look like I am doing something for a couple of more hours, before I try to sneak out early.
Peace, love, and baby thumbs!
Martha
I am sitting in my cube, as I do every time I write an “update…”, and thinking of this coming weekend. That is really all that is on my mind, not the past, not the present, not even the far off future, just this coming weekend. I have tunnel vision, and my cross hairs are squarely laid on this weekend.
This weekend is a three day weekend. It is Labor Day baby! This is a great holiday, and I am really looking forward to it this year. But before I delve into what my ultra-cool-don’t-you-wish-you-were-doing-it-too plans, let’s really look at what this holiday is.
Labor Day was originally conceived by the “Central Labor Union”, to give the “working man” a day off… they thought this up in 1882! These guys beat down the doors of Congress and got an actual law passed, giving the “working man” a day off. I love this idea, and I think these men were true pioneers. Visionaries even! Personally I think that it is good to give the “working man” the day off. Although I do think it is pretty ironic what the “working man” means. In this case the definition seems pretty hit-and-miss.
If you are like me, and have a desk job (whether or not that is in a cube or you have an office – complete with DOOR) you are awarded a free day off. This is a good group to be in, and in the world of “the haves” versus “the have nots”… I consider myself proudly standing with “the haves”. Now if you are a not lucky enough to have a desk job you can still stand with “the haves” if you work for the government… those government employees get all kinds of holidays and Labor Day is no exception. If you work for the Postal Service (which is no longer part of the government) you get a day off. I would say sixty to seventy percent of the adult population will be granted a day off.
Who wont be getting a day off? Anyone in the service industry! These are the “working men” that get literally screwed on this holiday. They stand on their feet all day long… in malls, in restaurants… even at the car wash! They are working, they are laboring, and they are without a day off. What do they get to do on Labor Day? Well, if you work for a retail giant like Target, you get to enjoy the sales that are put in place and the abnormal crush of customers that aren’t ever present on a Monday. You get to work maybe a longer shift than you would have otherwise, and BONUS you get to clean up more crap out of the dressing rooms then you have ever seen on a Monday. If you work at a restaurant, you will get to experience a higher volume of not just customers… but of full-family customers! Kids of all ages, from high-chairs, to boosters, to just plain screaming in the booth next to their parents… these people are here to enjoy THEIR day off, and you are there to labor… to take the order, bring the food, and clean up afterward. You may just find yourself waking up on Monday morning, and what is that you hear? What is that humming noise outside? Don’t worry that is the lawn care service outside in the blazing September heat working! This is the group I used to count myself a member of… I never mowed lawns, but I did work in the mall, I did wait tables, I did “labor’ for years watching others enjoy their holiday, and now after all of that… the holiday is mine to enjoy… to relish… and to do whatever I want and get paid while doing it! I wish everyday was Labor Day!
This Labor Day has me traveling. I will be in New York City for my sister’s birthday! I cannot wait. I am so excited… I can hardly contain myself. All of the plans are set, all of the necessary arrangements have been made and it is nearly time to leave town and start to really have some fun. My sister has never been to the Big Apple, personally I think it is a place everyone should visit, and more than once. I love to go to New York with people who have never been to New York. I love to observe how they take it all in, and sometimes it is almost like watching a new baby find its thumb for the first time. That thumb has been there throughout the baby’s life, but they are just now finding it… and now that they know it is there it is there, they are going to wiggle it, they are going to stare at it, and they are even going to try to eat it. The same is true with NYC, they always knew it was there, but now that they have found it… they want to experience all that they can.
That is all for now… I still have some packing and stuff to do, not to mention the fact that I am at work and need to actually look like I am doing something for a couple of more hours, before I try to sneak out early.
Peace, love, and baby thumbs!
Martha
Update... August 15, 2007
Good afternoon to one and too all,
Well, I have been really busy enjoying all of the things that are me lately. I have been enjoying MY new car, I have been in enjoying MY new furniture, I have been enjoying MY time away from work, basically basking in the delightfulness of my life. Now, I am not trying to rub it in… don’t get me wrong I am appreciative that not everyone has my new car, furniture, and even moreso my sunny disposition, I understand the plight of others… trust me I have been there!
It was not but a few weeks ago that my tooshy would sit on a couch that did not match the rest of my décor and probably was purchased in the late 70’s. It wasn’t but a mere month ago that my tooshy would sit in a car that was nearly eight years old, and not only showing its age but overheating from time to time… not to mention the simple blemishes that it had that were put there by yours truly! It was not too much more than three months ago, that my tooshy would sit in my cube for hours upon hours… days stretching into weeks, and with no end in sight! It was the “iron butt” competition, and who could stand it the longest… who could hang in there… who could get the software rolled out! But today… I have leather couches, today… I have leather, air-conditioned seats in my car, and today… I am leaving work early!!! Today… my tooshy is tickled pink!!
So, enough about “me” for now… let me share some insight.
It has come to my attention that all men share a vocabulary that is unique to their gender. This is something that I strongly suspected, but now have complete confirmation. Now, many of you women that are reading this may be surprised… trust me I was… many of you may know this already, which means your married. So, I am now going to stand up and be counted, I am going to let the cat out of the proverbial bag! So, for all you women out there… who have a man in your life… when they talk to their buddies… start paying attention! Trust me this language is hard to pick up on and is generally shared while staring at something… most likely the TV, could be a power tool, but most likely it is a BBQ grill outside. This is where you will pick up on it!
I have come to learn that the BBQ grill is like the holy altar for men. It is where they create their magic, it is their source of “awe”. The better your BBQ is, the more awe inspiring you become to your fellow worshipers, and they want to join you at your altar more and more. You become the I Ching for your social circle. You are the Godfather, and all it took was a Weber Stainless Steel grill. Do not confuse this with a “smoker”… the smoker is a second class citizen in the world of outdoor appliances, and will never catapult you to the top of food chain. It is ahead of the fire pit and chiminea, but it will never eclipse the supremacy of the grill. I think this is why women are not shown how to operate the grill. I think this is why women are kept away from the grill. Women are not allowed into the inner-sanctum.
Now, what men say at the grill, stays at the grill. This is considered “the vault”. I have checked around… and the vault is widely known in the circles of men. Men will NOT rat each other out. Men will not tell their wives or girlfriends what one of their friends is up to, it just isn’t discussed. Women… rat each other out. It is who we are. A woman will burden her significant other with stories of ALL of her friends, whether he likes or not. If I tell one of my girlfriends a “secret” and she is dating someone… it is like a time-released vitamin. It is going to come out, she is going to tell him. It’s what we do. Now, the “time” aspect of this comes down to how juicy and embarrassing the secret is, if it isn’t that embarrassing or juicy… you’ve time. Could be days even. You tell your girlfriend, “I went to a company happy hour... got a little tipsy and the kissed the cute single guy that works on 4” You have lots of time until she tells her partner. You tell her, “I went to a company happy hour, got completely loaded, ended up dancing on a table with top unbuttoned, got thrown out, threw up on the sidewalk, and had sex with the married guy that works on 4.” You have until she gets home, that tale is coming out of her, and he is gonna hear about it. Now she thinks her mate is thinking, “Wow, glad I have you and you’re not like that” but he is really thinking… “Gee, if this doesn’t work out, I need to find out that friend’s phone number”
Men do not rat out their friends… they have “the vault”. If a guy goes to his friend’s bachelor party, he will NOT come home and say, “Whoa, that Bill is a renegade… you should have seen all the stuff he did at the titty bar, we got thrown out… too bad he is getting married tomorrow.” No, that isn’t going to happen. It is in the “vault”. If his mate asks, “What did you do?” He will dead pan her, “Nothin’”. If it was a really crazy not, she may get “Not much too much”… now if it was a really crazy night and the police were involved and it may actually be something she would find out about he will say, “I don’t really remember”.
Now, the crazy thing about this “vault” is that it is used for storage only. What is in there will never be taken out, so I ask all men… why not instead of “ the vault” have “the trash”… or even “the dump” or my favorite… “the incinerator”? Get rid of this stuff, just lose it. One day you are going to go into the freezer and ask your wife, “hey honey… I was gonna grill up these filets.” And she is gonna say… “Nope, their in the vault, we are just storing them.”
So ladies… get out there, talk to your men about THEIR friends for a change, try to crack the vault!
That’s all for now…
Peace, love and happy tooshies!
Martha
Well, I have been really busy enjoying all of the things that are me lately. I have been enjoying MY new car, I have been in enjoying MY new furniture, I have been enjoying MY time away from work, basically basking in the delightfulness of my life. Now, I am not trying to rub it in… don’t get me wrong I am appreciative that not everyone has my new car, furniture, and even moreso my sunny disposition, I understand the plight of others… trust me I have been there!
It was not but a few weeks ago that my tooshy would sit on a couch that did not match the rest of my décor and probably was purchased in the late 70’s. It wasn’t but a mere month ago that my tooshy would sit in a car that was nearly eight years old, and not only showing its age but overheating from time to time… not to mention the simple blemishes that it had that were put there by yours truly! It was not too much more than three months ago, that my tooshy would sit in my cube for hours upon hours… days stretching into weeks, and with no end in sight! It was the “iron butt” competition, and who could stand it the longest… who could hang in there… who could get the software rolled out! But today… I have leather couches, today… I have leather, air-conditioned seats in my car, and today… I am leaving work early!!! Today… my tooshy is tickled pink!!
So, enough about “me” for now… let me share some insight.
It has come to my attention that all men share a vocabulary that is unique to their gender. This is something that I strongly suspected, but now have complete confirmation. Now, many of you women that are reading this may be surprised… trust me I was… many of you may know this already, which means your married. So, I am now going to stand up and be counted, I am going to let the cat out of the proverbial bag! So, for all you women out there… who have a man in your life… when they talk to their buddies… start paying attention! Trust me this language is hard to pick up on and is generally shared while staring at something… most likely the TV, could be a power tool, but most likely it is a BBQ grill outside. This is where you will pick up on it!
I have come to learn that the BBQ grill is like the holy altar for men. It is where they create their magic, it is their source of “awe”. The better your BBQ is, the more awe inspiring you become to your fellow worshipers, and they want to join you at your altar more and more. You become the I Ching for your social circle. You are the Godfather, and all it took was a Weber Stainless Steel grill. Do not confuse this with a “smoker”… the smoker is a second class citizen in the world of outdoor appliances, and will never catapult you to the top of food chain. It is ahead of the fire pit and chiminea, but it will never eclipse the supremacy of the grill. I think this is why women are not shown how to operate the grill. I think this is why women are kept away from the grill. Women are not allowed into the inner-sanctum.
Now, what men say at the grill, stays at the grill. This is considered “the vault”. I have checked around… and the vault is widely known in the circles of men. Men will NOT rat each other out. Men will not tell their wives or girlfriends what one of their friends is up to, it just isn’t discussed. Women… rat each other out. It is who we are. A woman will burden her significant other with stories of ALL of her friends, whether he likes or not. If I tell one of my girlfriends a “secret” and she is dating someone… it is like a time-released vitamin. It is going to come out, she is going to tell him. It’s what we do. Now, the “time” aspect of this comes down to how juicy and embarrassing the secret is, if it isn’t that embarrassing or juicy… you’ve time. Could be days even. You tell your girlfriend, “I went to a company happy hour... got a little tipsy and the kissed the cute single guy that works on 4” You have lots of time until she tells her partner. You tell her, “I went to a company happy hour, got completely loaded, ended up dancing on a table with top unbuttoned, got thrown out, threw up on the sidewalk, and had sex with the married guy that works on 4.” You have until she gets home, that tale is coming out of her, and he is gonna hear about it. Now she thinks her mate is thinking, “Wow, glad I have you and you’re not like that” but he is really thinking… “Gee, if this doesn’t work out, I need to find out that friend’s phone number”
Men do not rat out their friends… they have “the vault”. If a guy goes to his friend’s bachelor party, he will NOT come home and say, “Whoa, that Bill is a renegade… you should have seen all the stuff he did at the titty bar, we got thrown out… too bad he is getting married tomorrow.” No, that isn’t going to happen. It is in the “vault”. If his mate asks, “What did you do?” He will dead pan her, “Nothin’”. If it was a really crazy not, she may get “Not much too much”… now if it was a really crazy night and the police were involved and it may actually be something she would find out about he will say, “I don’t really remember”.
Now, the crazy thing about this “vault” is that it is used for storage only. What is in there will never be taken out, so I ask all men… why not instead of “ the vault” have “the trash”… or even “the dump” or my favorite… “the incinerator”? Get rid of this stuff, just lose it. One day you are going to go into the freezer and ask your wife, “hey honey… I was gonna grill up these filets.” And she is gonna say… “Nope, their in the vault, we are just storing them.”
So ladies… get out there, talk to your men about THEIR friends for a change, try to crack the vault!
That’s all for now…
Peace, love and happy tooshies!
Martha
Update... August 3, 2007
Ok, I said I wasn’t going to write an “update…” for a couple of weeks, and at the time when I said that, I meant it. But when something significant happens in my life, something that has changed the landscape of my day-to-day living, as well as my overall outlook on the world itself, I think that deserves an “update…”, demands an “update…”, even harkens for an “update…”!
Now, you are probably wondered what happened in my life that would do this. The mind reels doesn’t it. Before I tell you want DID happen, let me tell you what DIDN’T happen.
Quick story… I get into work early, and when I say early… I mean early. The reason for this is so that I can leave early. It is all just a mental thing really. I feel like I get in early, I don’t have to see my boss for the first 2+ hours and I get to go home before anyone else. You sort of feel like you are beating the system, like everyone else is stuck in homeroom and your Mom just busted you out for no reason! It is great. So, this illustrious morning I got to the office around 6:45am. I check my email, and do my normal routine… of grabbing my oatmeal and heading to the break room to make the first pot of coffee and get my breakfast. Well, I had actually contemplated stopping at the donut store and getting donuts for all of my co-workers, it is sort of a “Friday” thing to do. I have done this in the past and I really enjoy watching the feeding frenzy. I work with mostly Indian men (from India not Native-Americans) and Chinese men. These guys are pretty funny about free donuts, I think it is the free part that really gets them cranked up. Seriously, these guys see free donuts in the break room and they are like a pack of lions on a zebra! You cant even see the box if you are passing by, you just see all the bodies swarmed around the table. The donut box isn’t even struggling to get free! It, like the zebra, has succumb and is merely being consumed. Anyway, I didn’t get the donuts this morning because I was afraid I would eat one, and I do NOT need a donut, so I am sitting there eating, trying to wake up when a co-worker comes in. We chat and talk about work, family, etc and he brings up his parents, and how his mother and father were both deceased. The conversation keeps going and he tells of how they were married for thirty years before his father finally passed, and I say… “That is really great, you don’t see that too much these days. People getting married only once and staying together.” And he says, “Oh, no that was my dad’s third marriage!” What?!?!? And it lasted thirty years?!?!
So here is the skinny… his dad was married for twenty-seven years, and then got divorced. Apparently, he took it pretty hard, and started to drink, heavily. So heavily in fact that he started drinking in Oklahoma one day, and woke up the next day in Vegas… married… again… to someone he just met. It took him six months to get divorced, back in the olden days it took longer to get divorced, and then he married for the last time. But you know that does make for some great leverage when you are a kid. I made a lot of mistakes growing up, heck I am still making them, and my parents would say… “Now didn’t we tell you that was a bad idea?” It would have been great, one time, just one time to be able to say… “You know it was a bad idea, but I never woke up in Vegas married!”
So that is what hasn’t happened to me… I am not in Vegas, I am not married… but I am officially an adult.
As many of you know, I have been diligently improving my home since I moved in three years ago. It has been a long hard road. When I bought they house it looked like meth lab. The kitchen was painted black with a black ceiling, the upstairs game room was purple with a black ceiling, there was red paint here and there… no carpet anywhere, just bare wood, and then there was concrete that was stained orange! There were no base boards, window sills, and it was, what I would call, a diamond in the pit. It was bad. You had to have vision to see the potential. Lots and lots of vision. But I have persevered. I have painted, polished and gotten furniture here and there. Most of my furniture came from my older sister who happened to be moving as well, and I became the beneficiary of that move. I have hung wood blinds, ok my brother has, and it has been a real family effort to get this house to where it sits today.
This week… I did something that I have never done in my life! I did something that has altered not only my house, but my life. I have bought brand new furniture!!!
In my thirty-three years of life I have never owned furniture that has not been previously owned by somebody else. I have never shopped for furniture for myself. I have done it for others, even seen it done on TV but never done it for myself. So, I ordered a new leather sofa, chair, ottoman, and tables for my formal living room down stairs. I place my order on Monday, and my furniture was supposed to arrive at 3:30pm yesterday. At 5:30pm I was sitting on the floor of my living room excitedly waiting for my new bundles of joy to arrive. I am sure this is what first-time fathers to-be feel. They are sitting there thinking “When is this thing gonna get here”, they are excited for it to get here, and they want to know what it looks like… does it “go”. I am sure that they first-time mothers to-be are thinking… “ouch!” The anticipation was thick, and I was so excited. Finally, a knock at that door. Could it be? Is it the delivery people? Ed McMahon? I opened the door and it was the delivery people!!! My furniture was here.
These two men came inside, Santa and his elf! They set up the furniture and even took the trash with them! I still have my tables coming… they were not available for delivery. That is like having twins four days apart, no new mother should have to go through that! I am so excited to get the tables in and have the room feel completed. The furniture is soft to the touch, yet firm underneath you. I was so happy yesterday I was literally bouncing up and down with joy. I woke up this morning and the furniture was still there!!! I am going to go home today, and I fully expect it to be there when I get home as well.
So far I am getting used to my new life, a life that is forever changed… in a house that is fully furnished.
Peace, love, and Vegas baby!
Martha
Now, you are probably wondered what happened in my life that would do this. The mind reels doesn’t it. Before I tell you want DID happen, let me tell you what DIDN’T happen.
Quick story… I get into work early, and when I say early… I mean early. The reason for this is so that I can leave early. It is all just a mental thing really. I feel like I get in early, I don’t have to see my boss for the first 2+ hours and I get to go home before anyone else. You sort of feel like you are beating the system, like everyone else is stuck in homeroom and your Mom just busted you out for no reason! It is great. So, this illustrious morning I got to the office around 6:45am. I check my email, and do my normal routine… of grabbing my oatmeal and heading to the break room to make the first pot of coffee and get my breakfast. Well, I had actually contemplated stopping at the donut store and getting donuts for all of my co-workers, it is sort of a “Friday” thing to do. I have done this in the past and I really enjoy watching the feeding frenzy. I work with mostly Indian men (from India not Native-Americans) and Chinese men. These guys are pretty funny about free donuts, I think it is the free part that really gets them cranked up. Seriously, these guys see free donuts in the break room and they are like a pack of lions on a zebra! You cant even see the box if you are passing by, you just see all the bodies swarmed around the table. The donut box isn’t even struggling to get free! It, like the zebra, has succumb and is merely being consumed. Anyway, I didn’t get the donuts this morning because I was afraid I would eat one, and I do NOT need a donut, so I am sitting there eating, trying to wake up when a co-worker comes in. We chat and talk about work, family, etc and he brings up his parents, and how his mother and father were both deceased. The conversation keeps going and he tells of how they were married for thirty years before his father finally passed, and I say… “That is really great, you don’t see that too much these days. People getting married only once and staying together.” And he says, “Oh, no that was my dad’s third marriage!” What?!?!? And it lasted thirty years?!?!
So here is the skinny… his dad was married for twenty-seven years, and then got divorced. Apparently, he took it pretty hard, and started to drink, heavily. So heavily in fact that he started drinking in Oklahoma one day, and woke up the next day in Vegas… married… again… to someone he just met. It took him six months to get divorced, back in the olden days it took longer to get divorced, and then he married for the last time. But you know that does make for some great leverage when you are a kid. I made a lot of mistakes growing up, heck I am still making them, and my parents would say… “Now didn’t we tell you that was a bad idea?” It would have been great, one time, just one time to be able to say… “You know it was a bad idea, but I never woke up in Vegas married!”
So that is what hasn’t happened to me… I am not in Vegas, I am not married… but I am officially an adult.
As many of you know, I have been diligently improving my home since I moved in three years ago. It has been a long hard road. When I bought they house it looked like meth lab. The kitchen was painted black with a black ceiling, the upstairs game room was purple with a black ceiling, there was red paint here and there… no carpet anywhere, just bare wood, and then there was concrete that was stained orange! There were no base boards, window sills, and it was, what I would call, a diamond in the pit. It was bad. You had to have vision to see the potential. Lots and lots of vision. But I have persevered. I have painted, polished and gotten furniture here and there. Most of my furniture came from my older sister who happened to be moving as well, and I became the beneficiary of that move. I have hung wood blinds, ok my brother has, and it has been a real family effort to get this house to where it sits today.
This week… I did something that I have never done in my life! I did something that has altered not only my house, but my life. I have bought brand new furniture!!!
In my thirty-three years of life I have never owned furniture that has not been previously owned by somebody else. I have never shopped for furniture for myself. I have done it for others, even seen it done on TV but never done it for myself. So, I ordered a new leather sofa, chair, ottoman, and tables for my formal living room down stairs. I place my order on Monday, and my furniture was supposed to arrive at 3:30pm yesterday. At 5:30pm I was sitting on the floor of my living room excitedly waiting for my new bundles of joy to arrive. I am sure this is what first-time fathers to-be feel. They are sitting there thinking “When is this thing gonna get here”, they are excited for it to get here, and they want to know what it looks like… does it “go”. I am sure that they first-time mothers to-be are thinking… “ouch!” The anticipation was thick, and I was so excited. Finally, a knock at that door. Could it be? Is it the delivery people? Ed McMahon? I opened the door and it was the delivery people!!! My furniture was here.
These two men came inside, Santa and his elf! They set up the furniture and even took the trash with them! I still have my tables coming… they were not available for delivery. That is like having twins four days apart, no new mother should have to go through that! I am so excited to get the tables in and have the room feel completed. The furniture is soft to the touch, yet firm underneath you. I was so happy yesterday I was literally bouncing up and down with joy. I woke up this morning and the furniture was still there!!! I am going to go home today, and I fully expect it to be there when I get home as well.
So far I am getting used to my new life, a life that is forever changed… in a house that is fully furnished.
Peace, love, and Vegas baby!
Martha
Update... July 27, 2007
TGIF People!
This is something that I have never done before, I have never written more than one “update…” in a week. I didn’t think I had it in me, I didn’t think I was capable of such of feat, for the love of money I didn’t think I would ever find myself so inspired by my only little life that within the span of less than a week I could produce a recounting of two things… that may or may not be mildly interesting. But here we are, inspired again!! Inspired to put finger to keyboard, I could say pen to paper… but that has really never been the case, and I don’t want people who are just reading this to think it ever was the case… I try to be up front, honest, and gain people’s trust, I could be a politician… other than the simple fact that I am not a great liar and the idea of sex with someone that reports into me isn’t appealing, I could do that job.
Quick side bar: Does anyone use pen and paper anymore, can you imagine the day when it comes that the only people that have pens are bankers. We are gonna get there folks! Schools are starting to use computers in the classroom more and more, and I predict that sooner or later… you will go to the bank, sign a form establishing your identity, give them your finger print which they will record and every time you need cash, you go to the ATM, put your finger on a pad and BOOM! Insta-cash. Think about it.. did you ever hear Captain Kirk say “Hey Spock, you gotta pen?” or even Jean-Luke Picard say “An entire Starship Enterprise, and I cant get a pen?!?! I can ask for coffee and it comes flying out of a wall, but we cant beam us up a bic?!?!?” No, it didn’t happen.
Anyway, this is the first semi-weekly “update…” in the nearly two year history of these installments, and I am taking this “update…” where no other “update…” has been before… to the mall baby!!!! Buckle up we’ll get there.
I had the fortune to go to a “girls dinner” last night. Now you are probably thinking, “girls dinner”, how old was everyone there? Could you people drink? I believe that when women collect in groups it is a “girls” event, you feel your youth, you feel young, and free and maybe even a little silly! I love it. The other nice thing about “girl” events is that women really do sympathize and care about each other and can feel free to express that. If two men are together and one tells the other, “yeah, just broke up with my girlfriend of two years.” his buddy, who has known him probably since grade school, looks up at him and says “Sorry man. Geez, I thought you had only been dating a couple of months… anyway you wanna go to Hooters?” Same scenario, two women… one says, “I just broke up with my boyfriend.” The other, again having known her for years, says “Oh my God! What happened? Haven’t you two been dating for two years? Didn’t you think he was ‘the one’? Didn’t you just go to his parents house last week? Did he break up with you? What was said? Are you ok? Why don’t we go to my house rent some movies get some pizza delivered, eat some girl scout cookies and talk. I am so sorry, I don’t want to call him a total asshole since I know you cared for him, but right now I think that it sucks and if he broke up with you, then he is a total asshole, but if you broke up with him then he was the asshole who drove to that, geez I just cant believe it. You’re better off!” This is what women do, we sympathize with each other, we talk about what is going on in our lives, our feelings, not our BBQ grills.
So, at dinner last night I had the fortune of being able to share with Blanchie, Karen, and Diane all that is going on in my world and they shared all that was going on in theirs. We went to Bugattis, now I had never been to Bugattis, so this was a great new experience. Diane had been to Bugattis before, it was like “Cheers” and she was Norm… everybody new her name! She walks in the door and the fanfare begins, the owner comes out to greet her with a friendly hug and some smart conversation, waiters begin to appear from no where to say “hello” and welcome their favored patron back, I thought they were going to bring out the fatted calf and kill it right there in the bar, but no… they just went ahead and sat us.
So, let’s see what was said shall we? I have been taking acting classes recently. I just started a comedy acting class this week. On Monday I walked into this class ready to have fun, and oh my God I did!! I left the class exhausted, sweating, laughing and so completely electrified I felt like I had been on drugs for two hours solid! It was great. I disclosed my fun to my fellow dinner mates, as I slowly drank my martini. Well, we started to talk about men… yes, we did… I know you’re shocked. Anyway, we talked about how some men really cant express their feelings or really even communicate well, and then Blanchie says in the most matter-of-fact tone, “You don’t really need to communicate with men, that isn’t what they are good for, they are good for one thing and one thing only… therefore you meet a man that you like, you can just say ‘Lay down let’s talk!’”. This has been permanently burned on my brain now… Lay down let’s talk. This phrase and this phrase alone could start the next sexual revolution! You thought the sixties were sexy… they got nothing on Blanchie. So, now I am sitting in my chair, having finished my martini and started on my oh-so-yummy-cant-believe-how-good-this-tastes-but-don’t-want-to-drink-it-too-fast-to-avoid-brain-freeze bellini! The bellinis at Bugattis are AMAZING!!! Everyone should have them, everyone should know how good they are… I am now thinking of that Christmas Coca-Cola commercial… “I’d like to buy the world a bellini, and keep it company” (if you’re still reading this I know you are singing). Yep, a kindler, gentler, world. But let’s get back to what was being said… “Lay down let’s talk”. I am thinking to myself, this woman could be my hero! We could get t-shirts made, really market this idea. I think men around the globe would really rally around this idea J This is a world-wide pleasing concept, big or small, gay or straight, living in a village in the middle of Namibia or even with your cousins in Arkansas… everyone can get behind this idea.
The conversation is fast and witty, but always filled with inquiry, we women love our details and when the specific detail that we are interested in is not offered up… we will ask for it. It is amazing, like death, taxes and gravity. I have no idea why the FBI doesn’t hire a fleet of women to be their entire interrogation department… this is something we were born to do, just like the colt that stands within moments of being born, women are asking questions the minute they can talk. You think your little one year old daughter said, “Dada”… when she really said, “Dada?” and the underlying meaning was “Dada, why are you just standing there when I need to be changed!”
Finally this brings me to where all “updates…” should be! The mall. Karen is sitting across from me at the table, she looks chic. She could have stepped out of catalog, completely update-to-date and stylish in not only her wardrobe, but her accessories, and hairstyle… the triple threat! She starts to talk about the Nordstrom anniversary sale, which I have noticed not only the billboards on the tollway, but perused their website looking for some killer deals.
Well, she said that she took Blanchie with her to the pre-sales event. What? A “pre-sales event”. Being a woman the question flies out of my mouth, “what exactly is that?”. And she says pretty casually that they had mailed her an invitation for herself and a guest to come and shop before the sale began and that the items would be charged on the day the sale starts for the sale price. Now, you have to be in my chair at this moment, I picture in my head this courier arriving at her door in a beautiful black suit, he is handsome, he is wearing white gloves, and the invitation to the Cinderella Ball is perched carefully in one of them. The gloves are obviously so that the oils from his hand do not muss the invitation. She answers the door, white doves fly as she does, he bends low at the waist presenting the card with his eyes avoiding hers. She plucks the parcel from his hand, spins once around, and shuts the door. It turns out it was delivered through the regular postal service though. Anyway, the store closes on Sunday at 6pm, and they arrive at 7pm… the riff-raff is out of the store now and they can shop in peace. They are offered complimentary martinis as they entire, as well as any beer or wine, and if your martini glass runs dry never fear there are waiter circling the floor with pitchers at the ready to solve that little party foul. This is the way to shop folks! I think all stores should do this… you let me shop with a drink in my hand and I would do a lot more damage and have a better time. The buyers remorse wouldn’t hit me until the next day, and I would be too hung over to worry about it. Maybe the bars need to start opening a small shoe department near the restrooms, if you cant bring the booze to the store, bring the store to the booze.
We spent the rest of the evening really just laughing and talking, and now I am at work again… and as I sit here I remember that it is evenings like that, that keep me toiling in my cube. If it wasn’t for great conversation and questions galore… there wouldn’t be much point in it all.
That’s all for me again!
Peace, love, and the Vulcan Mind Meld,
Martha
This is something that I have never done before, I have never written more than one “update…” in a week. I didn’t think I had it in me, I didn’t think I was capable of such of feat, for the love of money I didn’t think I would ever find myself so inspired by my only little life that within the span of less than a week I could produce a recounting of two things… that may or may not be mildly interesting. But here we are, inspired again!! Inspired to put finger to keyboard, I could say pen to paper… but that has really never been the case, and I don’t want people who are just reading this to think it ever was the case… I try to be up front, honest, and gain people’s trust, I could be a politician… other than the simple fact that I am not a great liar and the idea of sex with someone that reports into me isn’t appealing, I could do that job.
Quick side bar: Does anyone use pen and paper anymore, can you imagine the day when it comes that the only people that have pens are bankers. We are gonna get there folks! Schools are starting to use computers in the classroom more and more, and I predict that sooner or later… you will go to the bank, sign a form establishing your identity, give them your finger print which they will record and every time you need cash, you go to the ATM, put your finger on a pad and BOOM! Insta-cash. Think about it.. did you ever hear Captain Kirk say “Hey Spock, you gotta pen?” or even Jean-Luke Picard say “An entire Starship Enterprise, and I cant get a pen?!?! I can ask for coffee and it comes flying out of a wall, but we cant beam us up a bic?!?!?” No, it didn’t happen.
Anyway, this is the first semi-weekly “update…” in the nearly two year history of these installments,
I had the fortune to go to a “girls dinner” last night. Now you are probably thinking, “girls dinner”, how old was everyone there? Could you people drink? I believe that when women collect in groups it is a “girls” event, you feel your youth, you feel young, and free and maybe even a little silly! I love it. The other nice thing about “girl” events is that women really do sympathize and care about each other and can feel free to express that. If two men are together and one tells the other, “yeah, just broke up with my girlfriend of two years.” his buddy, who has known him probably since grade school, looks up at him and says “Sorry man. Geez, I thought you had only been dating a couple of months… anyway you wanna go to Hooters?” Same scenario, two women… one says, “I just broke up with my boyfriend.” The other, again having known her for years, says “Oh my God! What happened? Haven’t you two been dating for two years? Didn’t you think he was ‘the one’? Didn’t you just go to his parents house last week? Did he break up with you? What was said? Are you ok? Why don’t we go to my house rent some movies get some pizza delivered, eat some girl scout cookies and talk. I am so sorry, I don’t want to call him a total asshole since I know you cared for him, but right now I think that it sucks and if he broke up with you, then he is a total asshole, but if you broke up with him then he was the asshole who drove to that, geez I just cant believe it. You’re better off!” This is what women do, we sympathize with each other, we talk about what is going on in our lives, our feelings, not our BBQ grills.
So, at dinner last night I had the fortune of being able to share with Blanchie, Karen, and Diane all that is going on in my world and they shared all that was going on in theirs. We went to Bugattis, now I had never been to Bugattis, so this was a great new experience. Diane had been to Bugattis before, it was like “Cheers” and she was Norm… everybody new her name! She walks in the door and the fanfare begins, the owner comes out to greet her with a friendly hug and some smart conversation, waiters begin to appear from no where to say “hello” and welcome their favored patron back, I thought they were going to bring out the fatted calf and kill it right there in the bar, but no… they just went ahead and sat us.
So, let’s see what was said shall we? I have been taking acting classes recently. I just started a comedy acting class this week. On Monday I walked into this class ready to have fun, and oh my God I did!! I left the class exhausted, sweating, laughing and so completely electrified I felt like I had been on drugs for two hours solid! It was great. I disclosed my fun to my fellow dinner mates, as I slowly drank my martini. Well, we started to talk about men… yes, we did… I know you’re shocked. Anyway, we talked about how some men really cant express their feelings or really even communicate well, and then Blanchie says in the most matter-of-fact tone, “You don’t really need to communicate with men, that isn’t what they are good for, they are good for one thing and one thing only… therefore you meet a man that you like, you can just say ‘Lay down let’s talk!’”. This has been permanently burned on my brain now… Lay down let’s talk. This phrase and this phrase alone could start the next sexual revolution! You thought the sixties were sexy… they got nothing on Blanchie. So, now I am sitting in my chair, having finished my martini and started on my oh-so-yummy-cant-believe-how-good-this-tastes-but-don’t-want-to-drink-it-too-fast-to-avoid-brain-freeze bellini! The bellinis at Bugattis are AMAZING!!! Everyone should have them, everyone should know how good they are… I am now thinking of that Christmas Coca-Cola commercial… “I’d like to buy the world a bellini, and keep it company” (if you’re still reading this I know you are singing). Yep, a kindler, gentler, world. But let’s get back to what was being said… “Lay down let’s talk”. I am thinking to myself, this woman could be my hero! We could get t-shirts made, really market this idea. I think men around the globe would really rally around this idea J This is a world-wide pleasing concept, big or small, gay or straight, living in a village in the middle of Namibia or even with your cousins in Arkansas… everyone can get behind this idea.
The conversation is fast and witty, but always filled with inquiry, we women love our details and when the specific detail that we are interested in is not offered up… we will ask for it. It is amazing, like death, taxes and gravity. I have no idea why the FBI doesn’t hire a fleet of women to be their entire interrogation department… this is something we were born to do, just like the colt that stands within moments of being born, women are asking questions the minute they can talk. You think your little one year old daughter said, “Dada”… when she really said, “Dada?” and the underlying meaning was “Dada, why are you just standing there when I need to be changed!”
Finally this brings me to where all “updates…” should be! The mall. Karen is sitting across from me at the table, she looks chic. She could have stepped out of catalog, completely update-to-date and stylish in not only her wardrobe, but her accessories, and hairstyle… the triple threat! She starts to talk about the Nordstrom anniversary sale, which I have noticed not only the billboards on the tollway, but perused their website looking for some killer deals.
Well, she said that she took Blanchie with her to the pre-sales event. What? A “pre-sales event”. Being a woman the question flies out of my mouth, “what exactly is that?”. And she says pretty casually that they had mailed her an invitation for herself and a guest to come and shop before the sale began and that the items would be charged on the day the sale starts for the sale price. Now, you have to be in my chair at this moment, I picture in my head this courier arriving at her door in a beautiful black suit, he is handsome, he is wearing white gloves, and the invitation to the Cinderella Ball is perched carefully in one of them. The gloves are obviously so that the oils from his hand do not muss the invitation. She answers the door, white doves fly as she does, he bends low at the waist presenting the card with his eyes avoiding hers. She plucks the parcel from his hand, spins once around, and shuts the door. It turns out it was delivered through the regular postal service though. Anyway, the store closes on Sunday at 6pm, and they arrive at 7pm… the riff-raff is out of the store now and they can shop in peace. They are offered complimentary martinis as they entire, as well as any beer or wine, and if your martini glass runs dry never fear there are waiter circling the floor with pitchers at the ready to solve that little party foul. This is the way to shop folks! I think all stores should do this… you let me shop with a drink in my hand and I would do a lot more damage and have a better time. The buyers remorse wouldn’t hit me until the next day, and I would be too hung over to worry about it. Maybe the bars need to start opening a small shoe department near the restrooms, if you cant bring the booze to the store, bring the store to the booze.
We spent the rest of the evening really just laughing and talking, and now I am at work again… and as I sit here I remember that it is evenings like that, that keep me toiling in my cube. If it wasn’t for great conversation and questions galore… there wouldn’t be much point in it all.
That’s all for me again!
Peace, love, and the Vulcan Mind Meld,
Martha
Update... July 23, 2007
Good morning to one and to all…
Yes, I am writing an “update” that could only me one thing, one thing and one thing only… I am inspired! That’s right, inspired. Now, some of us gain inspiration through divine measures, personally I think my mother is constantly channel St. Agnacious… the patron saint of nagging women, and her inspiration in that rite is divine. She can literally call you at 7am, having just woken up herself and start in on you… that takes divine inspiration. I can barely function when I first wake up, and I can tell you at that inauspicious moment of recognizing that I am awake the last thing I am going to do is to call someone up to nag them, not to mention the simple fact that my voice hasn’t woken up yet, I sound like Barry White, and my teeth need to be brushed so badly I can hardly stand it. Others find inspiration in seeing the world around them. Painters have painted timeless works of art; inspired by the world that surrounds them. People drink in these sites and they are drinking inspiration. Now your probably asking yourself… what kind of inspiration is acting upon Aunt Martha, and I have to tell you, it is merely the experience of my little, mixed up life.
So let’s see what inspiration life has brought me!
Well, I have been interviewing and seeking not only a new position somewhere else, but also a new career path. I am just like everyone else, I hate interviewing. The problem with interviewing is two fold. Problem number one is that you are going through a procedure that is completely uncomfortable, and is much like the horror of a blind date. Yeah, you heard me… blind date. Just like a blind date you are generally meeting someone for the first time face to face and each of you, independent of the other, has to determine whether or not you are “good fit”. You have to determine if your personalities mesh, and moreover whether or not you have the same goals, all of this in the time it takes to watch one episode of “Lost”. At least on a blind date you have more time, and more alcohol. Alcohol helps. You can tolerate a lot more with a drink in your hand, moreover you may not be as nervous and may show your true colors a little more vividly. If I ever own my own company, I am going to interview people at a bar! Have a drink, let’s talk. Now NONE of the interviews that I have had, have included alcohol, but they have all been somewhat grueling.
You have to remember your buzz words, “team work”, “loyalty”, “dedication”, “tenacity”, “401K”… on a blind date it is the same thing, the buzz words are different though, “easy going”, “anit-anti-depressants”, “stability”. There are also phrases to avoid in both situations, upon meeting your new “friend” you don’t want to say in an interview, “do you have to be on time everyday?”, “what type of coffee is served in the break room? I only drink Starbucks”, “How many personal calls a day is considered excessive?”, “what’s that smell, don’t you people clean the carpets around here?”. There are some blind date phrases to avoid… for women they are “Why did you pick this place, it isn’t very nice”, “I do want children and my eggs are rotting, so can we hurry this along”, and “Is that your gut or is your shirt just doing that?” for men it is a bit different… “Good to meet you, but I thought you’d be thinner and better looking”, “Do you think we could go dutch on this?”, and “I have another date after this, so why don’t you just hit the highlights”.
Within the arena of interviews and dating there is gamesmanship involved, each side is playing their game of chess trying to get the best results for themselves… as far as interviewing the company wants a new employee that fits their needs with the lowest benefit package they can get away with, and the interviewee is trying to get the best position, with a career path that are seeking to embark on, and a smokin’ benefits package. Their objectives are divergent. In dating, the object isn’t as clear and it may or may not be divergent, especially on a blind date. He could be looking for a “Mrs Right” or a “Miss Thursday evening”, and on the female side of things…she could be looking for “Mr. As close to perfect As I could ever hope for” or “Mr. Buy me dinner”… neither knows definitively what they are up against and that is where the gamesmanship is involved here, and it is sneaky folks. The conversation is quick, but if you listen carefully, oh so carefully, you can find the underlying meaning in what is being said. There are codes that have been established and just like the CIA you really need to train yourself in this, don’t be a novice when dating… arm yourself before you head to the bar, restaurant, dog park, coffee house… hotel?
Interviews and dating can share the same questions… believe it or not. You will hear, “where do you see yourself in five years”, man that one is a killer. I hate that one in an interview, I hate that one on a date, I hate that one far and near, I hate that one ringing in my ear… because ultimately you have no idea what the “right” answer is. I mean if you were truly honest with yourself in the interview, and an ambitious person… you would lay it out there, “In five years I hope to be running this place, and I may fire your sorry butt for asking such stupid interview questions!” This is an interviewing tight rope, so you throw out the safe answer (which hopefully you have at the ready, as a canned answer). “I really hope to excel in my position here and see where that takes me, but my main goal is to be a true asset to any company I join”. Ta-Da! Like a rabbit it is whipped out of the hat for all the world to see. Now, if you are on a date and you get that question, there is no right answer… be forewarned anything you say… can and will be held against you! But don’t worry, there is a canned answer for this too, but you need to keep your cool, you need to make sure you are the submarine captain, the whole damn thing could be falling below crush depth, the haul straining against the pressure, rivets bursting and ricocheting around the room, water blasting in, and you need to sit there stony, drinking coffee easily from a china cup the saucer in the other hand, never let ‘em see ya sweat! The answer to this is simple, “Hmmm… I have several goals but I am not sure. I am like a leaf, I float upon the wind currents and go where ever it takes me.”
The biggest and most profound difference in these two is the ultimate outcome. In dating, you can either see them again or not, and you know there is always another fish in the sea. But with interviewing you are making a much BIGGER far more reaching decision. You are having to decide whether or not you want to uproot yourself and place your future earning potential in the hands of someone that you have met and spent a mere hour or so with. I mean seriously, there are always going to be positions out there, your “fish in the sea”, but this decision can take you down a path to financial success, or it can take you down a path of… “the company just filed bankruptcy because our CEO is an utter flake and has been borrowing money from the company and signed to debt agreements to cover the funds, so everyone who bought stock in the company and had their pensions with us, sorry but that is all gone. We weren’t Sarbanes Oxley compliant, but neither was Enron! Leave your badge at the security desk. Have a nice day”.
I think interviewing is far more stressful, the technical questions they ask, and the personality profile they try to put together… it is exhausting. But in both cases both parties have each other under the microscope, the only consolation to all of this is that it does end… this isn’t something that you will go through ad infinitum. Interviewing will stop upon retirement, once you retire you will never interview again! You have made it to the end of the game of life… no more spinning the wheel for you! Dating will stop when you get married, die, or just completely lose interest in the process and resign yourself to the simple fact that in the end, all you have is yourself.
On a completely different note, I have gotten the last Harry Potter novel and I have been completely consumed by it… I don’t sleep, I don’t eat… the only reason I can get an “update” done is because they don’t allow me to read at my desk! It has been a thrilling adventure that these novels have taken me on… it has been me and Harry the whole way through. I am 500 pages into the seventh novel, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I have to admit it is a mixed bag of emotions. I am looking forward to discovering all of the truths that will be told, but I am also a little sad to see the rollercoaster pulling back into its station. It is going to be over, and there is no getting back into line… I will get out of my car, with the rest of the fans and do what you do after you get off of a great ride, talk to people about it. You reminisce about all that went on , the steep plunges, the hair pin turns, the near death feelings, you re-hash them over and over again. We shall see what happens, but I am buckled and not leaving until it is over!!!
As always…
Peace, love, and check please?!?!
Martha
Yes, I am writing an “update” that could only me one thing, one thing and one thing only… I am inspired! That’s right, inspired. Now, some of us gain inspiration through divine measures, personally I think my mother is constantly channel St. Agnacious… the patron saint of nagging women, and her inspiration in that rite is divine. She can literally call you at 7am, having just woken up herself and start in on you… that takes divine inspiration. I can barely function when I first wake up, and I can tell you at that inauspicious moment of recognizing that I am awake the last thing I am going to do is to call someone up to nag them, not to mention the simple fact that my voice hasn’t woken up yet, I sound like Barry White, and my teeth need to be brushed so badly I can hardly stand it. Others find inspiration in seeing the world around them. Painters have painted timeless works of art; inspired by the world that surrounds them. People drink in these sites and they are drinking inspiration. Now your probably asking yourself… what kind of inspiration is acting upon Aunt Martha, and I have to tell you, it is merely the experience of my little, mixed up life.
So let’s see what inspiration life has brought me!
Well, I have been interviewing and seeking not only a new position somewhere else, but also a new career path. I am just like everyone else, I hate interviewing. The problem with interviewing is two fold. Problem number one is that you are going through a procedure that is completely uncomfortable, and is much like the horror of a blind date. Yeah, you heard me… blind date. Just like a blind date you are generally meeting someone for the first time face to face and each of you, independent of the other, has to determine whether or not you are “good fit”. You have to determine if your personalities mesh, and moreover whether or not you have the same goals, all of this in the time it takes to watch one episode of “Lost”. At least on a blind date you have more time, and more alcohol. Alcohol helps. You can tolerate a lot more with a drink in your hand, moreover you may not be as nervous and may show your true colors a little more vividly. If I ever own my own company, I am going to interview people at a bar! Have a drink, let’s talk. Now NONE of the interviews that I have had, have included alcohol, but they have all been somewhat grueling.
You have to remember your buzz words, “team work”, “loyalty”, “dedication”, “tenacity”, “401K”… on a blind date it is the same thing, the buzz words are different though, “easy going”, “anit-anti-depressants”, “stability”. There are also phrases to avoid in both situations, upon meeting your new “friend” you don’t want to say in an interview, “do you have to be on time everyday?”, “what type of coffee is served in the break room? I only drink Starbucks”, “How many personal calls a day is considered excessive?”, “what’s that smell, don’t you people clean the carpets around here?”. There are some blind date phrases to avoid… for women they are “Why did you pick this place, it isn’t very nice”, “I do want children and my eggs are rotting, so can we hurry this along”, and “Is that your gut or is your shirt just doing that?” for men it is a bit different… “Good to meet you, but I thought you’d be thinner and better looking”, “Do you think we could go dutch on this?”, and “I have another date after this, so why don’t you just hit the highlights”.
Within the arena of interviews and dating there is gamesmanship involved, each side is playing their game of chess trying to get the best results for themselves… as far as interviewing the company wants a new employee that fits their needs with the lowest benefit package they can get away with, and the interviewee is trying to get the best position, with a career path that are seeking to embark on, and a smokin’ benefits package. Their objectives are divergent. In dating, the object isn’t as clear and it may or may not be divergent, especially on a blind date. He could be looking for a “Mrs Right” or a “Miss Thursday evening”, and on the female side of things…she could be looking for “Mr. As close to perfect As I could ever hope for” or “Mr. Buy me dinner”… neither knows definitively what they are up against and that is where the gamesmanship is involved here, and it is sneaky folks. The conversation is quick, but if you listen carefully, oh so carefully, you can find the underlying meaning in what is being said. There are codes that have been established and just like the CIA you really need to train yourself in this, don’t be a novice when dating… arm yourself before you head to the bar, restaurant, dog park, coffee house… hotel?
Interviews and dating can share the same questions… believe it or not. You will hear, “where do you see yourself in five years”, man that one is a killer. I hate that one in an interview, I hate that one on a date, I hate that one far and near, I hate that one ringing in my ear… because ultimately you have no idea what the “right” answer is. I mean if you were truly honest with yourself in the interview, and an ambitious person… you would lay it out there, “In five years I hope to be running this place, and I may fire your sorry butt for asking such stupid interview questions!” This is an interviewing tight rope, so you throw out the safe answer (which hopefully you have at the ready, as a canned answer). “I really hope to excel in my position here and see where that takes me, but my main goal is to be a true asset to any company I join”. Ta-Da! Like a rabbit it is whipped out of the hat for all the world to see. Now, if you are on a date and you get that question, there is no right answer… be forewarned anything you say… can and will be held against you! But don’t worry, there is a canned answer for this too, but you need to keep your cool, you need to make sure you are the submarine captain, the whole damn thing could be falling below crush depth, the haul straining against the pressure, rivets bursting and ricocheting around the room, water blasting in, and you need to sit there stony, drinking coffee easily from a china cup the saucer in the other hand, never let ‘em see ya sweat! The answer to this is simple, “Hmmm… I have several goals but I am not sure. I am like a leaf, I float upon the wind currents and go where ever it takes me.”
The biggest and most profound difference in these two is the ultimate outcome. In dating, you can either see them again or not, and you know there is always another fish in the sea. But with interviewing you are making a much BIGGER far more reaching decision. You are having to decide whether or not you want to uproot yourself and place your future earning potential in the hands of someone that you have met and spent a mere hour or so with. I mean seriously, there are always going to be positions out there, your “fish in the sea”, but this decision can take you down a path to financial success, or it can take you down a path of… “the company just filed bankruptcy because our CEO is an utter flake and has been borrowing money from the company and signed to debt agreements to cover the funds, so everyone who bought stock in the company and had their pensions with us, sorry but that is all gone. We weren’t Sarbanes Oxley compliant, but neither was Enron! Leave your badge at the security desk. Have a nice day”.
I think interviewing is far more stressful, the technical questions they ask, and the personality profile they try to put together… it is exhausting. But in both cases both parties have each other under the microscope, the only consolation to all of this is that it does end… this isn’t something that you will go through ad infinitum. Interviewing will stop upon retirement, once you retire you will never interview again! You have made it to the end of the game of life… no more spinning the wheel for you! Dating will stop when you get married, die, or just completely lose interest in the process and resign yourself to the simple fact that in the end, all you have is yourself.
On a completely different note, I have gotten the last Harry Potter novel and I have been completely consumed by it… I don’t sleep, I don’t eat… the only reason I can get an “update” done is because they don’t allow me to read at my desk! It has been a thrilling adventure that these novels have taken me on… it has been me and Harry the whole way through. I am 500 pages into the seventh novel, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I have to admit it is a mixed bag of emotions. I am looking forward to discovering all of the truths that will be told, but I am also a little sad to see the rollercoaster pulling back into its station. It is going to be over, and there is no getting back into line… I will get out of my car, with the rest of the fans and do what you do after you get off of a great ride, talk to people about it. You reminisce about all that went on , the steep plunges, the hair pin turns, the near death feelings, you re-hash them over and over again. We shall see what happens, but I am buckled and not leaving until it is over!!!
As always…
Peace, love, and check please?!?!
Martha
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