Before you switch back to Facebook, you have got The Bowery Girl. I’m toying with a new look for 2014 and I think this may be it!
Until I’m decided, feel free to love it or loathe it in the Comments!
opinion
Christmas Spirit?
I love Christmas.
I really should say, I love everything about Christmas, except the people who gripe and chew about how stressful Christmas is. Several times over the past few weeks, I’ve heard or been part of conversations where people are frustrated at how much they have to do, how commercial Christmas is, how people have lost the “real meaning” of Christmas.
And I want to grab them by the shoulders and yell YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF – YOU ARE THE PROBLEM! You see, Christmas isn’t like Thanksgiving, where it floats around the “second week of the full moon yada yada yada”. Its always the 25th of December. It is always the second last week of the year! It never pops ups on the 10th or moves back to the 28th. So what’s the problem?
Is it the gift giving? I enjoy gift shopping, NOT because I love throngs of people, but because I truly love thinking of my family and loved ones. THAT’s what gift shopping is: thinking of your husband, mother, father, kids, nieces, nephew (you get the picture) and think about what THEY want, what THEY will enjoy opening on Christmas morning and how your present will make THEM feel. I bought my first gift this year in September for a certain nephew AND I AM SO STOKE ABOUT IT I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO TELL YOU!! It makes me smile every time I think about it. I’ve been told I do well in the gift-giving department, and I think that is due to the fact that I really enjoy putting that excitement into each gift. The funny thing is, when I’m thinking of someone else, there’s no pressure!
Is it the decorating? Because you know, HALLOWEEN is second only to Christmas for retail sales and I don’t hear anyone moaning and groaning about how much work it is to put up their five inflatables, install their graveyard and hang a oversized spider off of the hand-crafted rope web off the third story of their house. Just saying’…
What about the baking? Well I love making food, so that’s not a huge issue for me, but there have been years when I’ve worked through the holidays and had to host a meal as well. As you know, I live in the sticks, but I still found a place that would cater Christmas dinner and it was AWESOME! Why turn yourself into a zombie for one meal when you can spend roughly the same amount of cash and let the praise fall all over you for being a resourceful AND brilliant hostess for having such an amazing meal.
Is it the Christmas cards? Very few people send cards anymore. Over the past 20 years I’ve watched my list get shorter and shorter as I reduce the number of people I send them to. After the season I go through the cards and check off those who send them to us. If you miss three years, you are a GONER my friend. I understand some people think its dated, but I can tell you, for some, it’s the only way we hear from them and it would be very sad to lose that contact.
Is it the running around seeing family? I know some people who have to split the day (and Boxing Day) several different ways. This is more about your family than about your frustration with the holiday. I’m going to guess that the people who demand you see them on the 25th are the same people who are picky and demanding the rest of the year too! Don’t blame Christmas.
The way I look at it is this, I know people who weren’t supposed to be around for this Christmas. I know people who are going through some really tough times. I know some people who aren’t here for Christmas, and their families really wish they were. Christmas is how we mark the passage of time. We need to have that celebration of life, faith and hope to sustain us. We need to be able to look forward to the New Year, whether its because the one we are in completely tanked, or because we have so much to look forward to.
I refuse to make Christmas the whipping boy of my day to day frustrations. Yes, it is more work – but doing a Christmas task with someone can be twice the fun. Yes, you can spend (a lot) more money – but you don’t have to. Some of the best gifts I’ve been given were not overly expensive.
What it comes down to is this, you get out of it what you put into it. You cannot spend weeks complaining about a religious holiday about peace and love and then wonder why you have no Christmas Cheer.
And if this post doesn’t help you out of your doldrums, I highly recommend popping in Christmas Vacation. Sounds like you need a laugh.
You are welcome.
Letters That Need To Be Written V
Dear Judge Jean Boyd,
Your Honor, with all due respect of your station as Juvenile Court Judge of Burleson, (near Fort Worth, Texas), are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?
You had an opportunity to send a message to a clearly overly indulged young man; one who has obviously had every opportunity given to him by his misguided, yet financially comfortable parents. You could have given a sense of closure to the families of four people who tragically lost their lives when this youth, who was practically pickled with three times the legal limit of alcohol in his body, mowed them down on the side of the road with his pickup truck. You could have given some sense of justice to the two other victims, “friends” of this youth, who were in the box of the pickup, one of whom is unable to speak or move thanks to the traumatic brain injury sustained in this preventable, AVOIDABLE, motor vehicle collision.
But instead, you created a victim. The accused himself! How he must have suffered being the son of parents who never gave him boundaries! How horrible for him to have gone years with his every whim catered to! We will never know his agony! Thanks to you Judge, we now have a new trendy condition “affluenza”. WTH? I can guarantee you, no one in my home will come down with this quasi-condition.
Way to reward the guilty! And his sad excuse for parents! Junior gets 10 years of probation, starting with a rehab program (I’ve never been to a resort that is as nice as this rehab facility people! Check out the Newport Academy here. BTW it’s putting his daddy back $450,000 a year.) and keeping him away from his parents for at least two years. Whew! What a relief for them! They can continue NOT PARENTING him just has they have been for the past 16 years! At least they won’t have the burden of dragging him around down like a walking, breathing scarlet A on their chest. They can continue ignoring their role in this travesty.
I’m sure you will be getting Christmas cards from other affluent families, whose spoiled brats are looking for loop holes in the justice system. You just set a precedent with a big enough loop-hole to drive a big ol’ Texas-sized pickup through.
Once again, the self-proclaimed “Land of The Free and Home of the Brave” (Land of the Spoiled and Home of the Self Indulged?) is getting it wrong, because even though this sentencing is a farce, the possibility is slim that the sentence can be appealed, because of the finding of guilt and a sentence being handed down. I guess US lawmakers didn’t allow for “not enough” sentencing. The prosecution asked for 25 years in jail, so with the exchange on the dollar, four, eight, carry the one….yup you are looking at 10 years probation.
My heart goes out to the families of the true victims; a young woman with a broken down vehicle, who was being assisted by a youth pastor and a middle-aged woman along with her teenaged daughter – all providing help, trying to do a good deed.
I hope their memories haunt this young man and his family.
And the judge with her misguided sense of “Justice.”
Raising Rob Ford
So, the Rob Ford Soap Opera has given me quite a pain. Right over here. No back a little bit more…
Between horrific videos, more horrific press conferences and enough drama to keep a spin doctor employed through to the end of his term as Mayor Toronto, it’s truly a train wreck and we are helpless to stop it, or look away.
Here we have an adult male who is having, in effect, a toddler temper tantrum on the world stage. I find myself over and over again trying to explain this man’s actions to my sons, who frequently reply with, “But didn’t he learn not to do that when he was a kid?” or “Didn’t his parents teach him that?” They have come to a logical conclusion here. This man needs some discipline; perhaps some parenting is in order?
You think I’m over simplifying? Let’s break it down. I’m pretty sure we’ve all been told these gems once or twice.
1. Lying Only Makes It Worse.
Let’s start at the beginning. When this all started, it was about a grainy cell phone photo where Rob Ford was doing his best Whitney Houston impression. And while he didn’t come out with Crack Is Whack, he did come out with a big denial. Had he come forward with an acknowledgement of the incident and some humility (I know, it’s not humanly possible for this man), he could have slipped off quietly for some rehab, stayed in office and people would have given him the second chance he seems hellbent on. However, LYING about the video’s existence started the entire saga on bad footing. We look back now and say, “Well, if he lied about that, what else is he lying about?” Let’s remember, this man has already been temporarily suspended from office, and disciplined for using public transit for his personal use – the transportation of his football team. Prejudice exists, I’m afraid, based on previous behavior.
2. Don’t Lie To Your Mother.
Momma Ford and sister Kathy took to CP24 to defend Rob’s “honor” (?!) and say that he has been truthful to them, that he doesn’t have an addiction problem, and that they support him 100%. Either the Ford ladies are Oscar-calibre actors, or they have tickets on a cruise down De Nial as a half-wit monkey can see what the Ford family truly is; a bunch of enablers. I’m sure Big Brother Doug Ford was thrilled to look like a moron on Rob’s behalf; DEMANDING the resignation of the Chief of Police on the grounds of trumping up allegations, less than five hours before his brother would have a media conference where he would admit to smoking crack. Ouch!
3. Watch Your Mouth. (aka – You Kiss Your Momma With That Mouth?)
Right now my eldest son is 16 years old. He swears. If you read this blog with any frequency, you know I do too. The Big Guy can let it fly with the best of them. Second Born Son is keeping it clean, but I fully expect him to melt down at some point and “expand his vocabulary”. I don’t say this with pride, I say this to be relative. Most (not all) people have sworn at some point. Most people (not all) know when it is appropriate and with what audience. My 16-year-old hormone-laden son knows that if he were to come out with some of the crap flowing out of Rob Ford’s mouth (in private, never mind in public), he’d have his jaw wired shut. Ever since the boys were small, we discussed what kind of words were “appropriate” since media, friends, and some family, don’t have the same frame of reference, and we didn’t want our five-year-old coming out with a big “What the HELL?” just before Easter Dinner. We started with negative words like “idiot”, “hate” and “stupid”. Stupid is still as big a swear word as “asshole” in our house and will get you promptly relocated to your room with a lecture to follow. Common civility dictates some words are simply not appropriate, especially the mouth they come from is four inches above the Chain of Office.
4. Be a Gentleman/Lady.
This may seem self-evident, but what this means is, be polite to others. Hold yourself in certain regard, and you’ll be surprised in how others treat you. If you act like a common street thug, be prepared to be viewed that way. Strive for more. This means refraining from making lewd comments about oral sex with former staffers, and even more so, don’t make that first statement seem less offense by making a followup remark that is just as visual about YOUR. WIFE.
5. You are Judged by the Company You Keep.
Remember the first time your parents had to tell you to watch the company you kept? Remember how confusing that was to figure out? eventually, though, we did. We understood that be associating with people who broke rules, were disrespectful, caused trouble, were in trouble, were looking for trouble, were often…trouble? Ya, Rob wasn’t listening that day.
6. Say “Sorry” Like You Mean It.
When we were kids, saying sorry was like getting a band-aid. It solved the problem immediately. As we mature and the Sorry we need to say is for bigger issues than, say, slamming the door, we understand that Sorry isn’t a band-aid anymore. It’s an acknowledgement of our error and it’s impact on another person. One of my biggest pet peeves is someone using the word Sorry with no meaning behind it. At first Rob Ford refused to say he was Sorry. Within days, he was saying Sorry so much, it began to lose its impact. He quickly moved on to say that he’s said Sorry so many times, he doesn’t know what else to say. And that, my friends, is the problem. There is nothing else to say.
7. You Always Get Caught.
Wasn’t it freaky how our Moms knew stuff? How did they know??? Did they really have eyes in the back of their heads? Was there a Secret Mom Society?? Any time we do something wrong, bad, hurtful and try to cover it up, it always comes back to bite us. If we didn’t learn this when we were four sneaking cookies, then perhaps we have to learn it in our mid 40s, with low-grade cell-phone video to rat us out. (FYI – There totally is a Secret Mom Society – in case my kids are reading this…)
8. You Call These People Your Friends?
Not to be confused with #5, this point is for all the people who are lining up to say they support Rob Ford and that this media circus is nothing more than a witch hunt. If you are truly part of Ford Nation, and want to see this man re-elected for another term, you will show support in him stepping aside temporarily. Because if nothing else is evident, it is this; Rob Ford has issues, demons if you will, that need to be addressed now. His passionate refusal to leave the role of Mayor is not only an issue for the City and the Province, but most importantly, is jeopardizing his well-being and his role as a father and husband. Choose your priorities wisely. Voters love a Come-Back story. Be the new and improved Rob Ford. Everyone deserves a second chance, but its hard to rally from a body bag.
Let’s hope someone, whose opinion matters to Rob Ford, can step in and give him the sage advice he needs.
Starting with a Time Out.
I Can’t Change, Even If I Wanted To…
Indulge me and read the lyrics for this song below…
“Same Love”
(with Ryan Lewis)
(feat. Mary Lambert)
When I was in the third grade I thought that I was gay,
‘Cause I could draw, my uncle was, and I kept my room straight.
I told my mom, tears rushing down my face
She’s like “Ben you’ve loved girls since before pre-k, trippin’ “
Yeah, I guess she had a point, didn’t she?
Bunch of stereotypes all in my head.
I remember doing the math like, “Yeah, I’m good at little league”
A preconceived idea of what it all meant
For those that liked the same sex
Had the characteristics
The right wing conservatives think it’s a decision
And you can be cured with some treatment and religion
Man-made rewiring of a predisposition
Playing God, aw nah here we go
America the brave still fears what we don’t know
And God loves all his children, is somehow forgotten
But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five-hundred years ago
I don’t knowAnd I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warmIf I was gay, I would think hip-hop hates me
Have you read the YouTube comments lately?
“Man, that’s gay” gets dropped on the daily
We become so numb to what we’re saying
A culture founded from oppression
Yet we don’t have acceptance for ’em
Call each other faggots behind the keys of a message board
A word rooted in hate, yet our genre still ignores it
Gay is synonymous with the lesser
It’s the same hate that’s caused wars from religion
Gender to skin color, the complexion of your pigment
The same fight that led people to walk outs and sit ins
It’s human rights for everybody, there is no difference!
Live on and be yourself
When I was at church they taught me something else
If you preach hate at the service those words aren’t anointed
That holy water that you soak in has been poisoned
When everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless
Rather than fighting for humans that have had their rights stolen
I might not be the same, but that’s not important
No freedom till we’re equal, damn right I support it
‘Cause I could draw, my uncle was, and I kept my room straight.
I told my mom, tears rushing down my face
She’s like “Ben you’ve loved girls since before pre-k, trippin’ “
Yeah, I guess she had a point, didn’t she?
Bunch of stereotypes all in my head.
I remember doing the math like, “Yeah, I’m good at little league”
A preconceived idea of what it all meant
For those that liked the same sex
Had the characteristics
The right wing conservatives think it’s a decision
And you can be cured with some treatment and religion
Man-made rewiring of a predisposition
Playing God, aw nah here we go
America the brave still fears what we don’t know
And God loves all his children, is somehow forgotten
But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five-hundred years ago
I don’t knowAnd I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warmIf I was gay, I would think hip-hop hates me
Have you read the YouTube comments lately?
“Man, that’s gay” gets dropped on the daily
We become so numb to what we’re saying
A culture founded from oppression
Yet we don’t have acceptance for ’em
Call each other faggots behind the keys of a message board
A word rooted in hate, yet our genre still ignores it
Gay is synonymous with the lesser
It’s the same hate that’s caused wars from religion
Gender to skin color, the complexion of your pigment
The same fight that led people to walk outs and sit ins
It’s human rights for everybody, there is no difference!
Live on and be yourself
When I was at church they taught me something else
If you preach hate at the service those words aren’t anointed
That holy water that you soak in has been poisoned
When everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless
Rather than fighting for humans that have had their rights stolen
I might not be the same, but that’s not important
No freedom till we’re equal, damn right I support it
(I don’t know)
And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
We press play, don’t press pause
Progress, march on
With the veil over our eyes
We turn our back on the cause
Till the day that my uncles can be united by law
When kids are walking ’round the hallway plagued by pain in their heart
A world so hateful some would rather die than be who they are
And a certificate on paper isn’t gonna solve it all
But it’s a damn good place to start
No law is gonna change us
We have to change us
Whatever God you believe in
We come from the same one
Strip away the fear
Underneath it’s all the same love
About time that we raised up
And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can’t change
Even if I try
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is patient
Love is kind
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I’m not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I’m not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I’m not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
Love is kind
I heard this song for the first time last week and it had a profound impact on me. I bought it on Monday and I’ve been listening to it ever since, and every time I hear it, I have the same reaction. YES! This is everything I could ever want to say!
For me, homosexuality was not an issue. I don’t remember seeing my first gay couple. For my way of thinking, finding another human being who will love and accept you, that’s a beautiful thing. Maybe it’s because of my upbringing. My parents never voiced negativity about homosexuality, but in all honesty, it didn’t really enter our world. There were themes in movies and music, but my sister and I never got the vibe that it was “wrong”.
I remember sitting in church when it was announced that the United Church of Canada was the first Christian denomination to ordain gay and lesbian ministers. I was so proud. That was 25 years ago. In many ways, living in Canada has given me a perplexed view of the insanity going on about gay marriage in the U.S. What’s the big freakin’ deal?
Let’s look at it this way…
Sarah
female
mother, wife, daughter, sister
writer, photographer, dreamer, schemer, baker, closet singer
heterosexual
When the topic of homosexuality comes up, you would be the same but unfortunately, it seems to look like this…
Jane
HOMOSEXUAL
Lots of other things that make up who Jane is, but not nearly as interesting as
HER SEX LIFE
Whaaaaaaa?
I can guarantee you, I don’t want to move my sex life up my list of defining characteristics. Do you?
Here’s more food for thought. You wake up tomorrow and there is a new set of “rules”. You are no longer allowed to be with your partner. If you are male, society does not want you anywhere near your wife/girlfriend. You need to find yourself a nice man and settle down. If you are a female, forget having a future with your husband/boyfriend. Society, family, friends all try to convince you that you are confused, you REALLY want to be with a woman, right?
Imagine sitting in church and being told you are not loved by God if you love someone of the opposite sex? Could someone offer you a course that would make you accept a relationship you didn’t feel was natural to you?
Then why the hell would you expect that of a woman who loves another woman; a man who loves another man.
There is no “choice” in this. There is no “wanting” to be gay. Young people would rather die than bear the torture they experience because of how their DNA lines up. Hate crimes against the gay communities continue, regardless of the media focus and supposed moral outrage. This is why I’m saying this now. Here. I support my family, friends, and co-workers past and present who are all a part of SAME LOVE.
I fully expect to get some negative feedback about this column, and quite frankly, I DON’T CARE. I would rather be judged by small minded, backward thinking people than be silent and considered to be one of them.
Radio Silence
I’ve been biting my tongue, with a number of things I’m dying to write about.
Some things were not ready to be written, as the story had yet to unfold.
Some things are not mine to tell.
Some things are yet to be. And I hope I will have a great share for you.
My mantra for the past two years has been “PATIENCE”. I feel I have learned it well.
If you could have a little for me, I would appreciate it!
How Do You Spell Class?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILBwN_Ut_pM&feature=player_embedded
I think I’m crushing on the Liberals!
Letters That Need to Be Written IV
Dear Stephen Harper aka Canada’s Bully,
I have just this evening viewed the filth commercial broadcast on behalf of the Conservative Party of Canada, or should I say, the Stephen Harper Support Group, which bashes Justin Trudeau, the recently elected leader of the Liberal Party.
This would be my shortest communication ever, if I was to say “Smarten the hell up!”, but I feel I should expand on this somewhat.
First of all, in a day and age when bullying in the classroom, playground and arena is at an all-time high, can we really expect anything of our children, when our elected officials, indeed adults and purported “leaders” are guilty of such childish behaviour?
Your commercial criticizes Justin Trudeau for his background as a teacher, and a camp counsellor. How clever, because NO ONE would have thought that working with children was a lower calling. You seem to think that a strip tease is Trudeau doffing his suit jacket and shirt at a recognized fundraiser. I’m gonna help you out here, don’t Google “Magic Mike.”
It seems fairly evident that you are a little threatened by this supposed upstart. I can understand why. You have sampled all of the political parties (starting with the Liberals yourself in your University days, followed by the Reform Party of Canada – what a swell bunch, and finally the Conservative Party, which you felt the need to rebrand as “The Harper Government” once elected). Perhaps the fact that Trudeau has been a dedicated and loyal member of his party is threatening to you.
No one would blame you for being intimidated by someone 12 years your junior, and who received 80% of his party’s support in the first vote. Then there is the obvious; in our society, a man who is young, attractive, articulate and open to new ideas is much more appealing than a man, uh, hmm…. who isn’t.
Let’s face it, your brand of “leading”, which more closely resembles “dictatorship” is dated. Your regime would fit in nicely with Diefenbaker’s. Welcome to the 21st Century, where taxpayers like more support for the Environment, the Arts, Education and a little less importance on supporting your corporate cronies.
I would like to say that I believe our government can do better, and show leadership, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Although we are years away from an election (unfortunately), you have authorized attack-style election ads. Do you really thing the Canadian voter is that simple? It’s not our style. It never will be.
Why not earn your office through integrity, innovation and class, instead of degrading yourself and smearing the competition? Why not try to relate to the people you govern? And I don’t mean by playing The Beatles. All you have to do is look South to see a man elected to the highest office who people can identify with. Canada has become the laughing-stock of the free world, thanks to RoboCalls. But at least you were able to throw an intern under that bus.
What it comes down to is a bully has to put others down to feel better about themselves. If this week is any indication, I wonder how low your opinion is of yourself.
Yours in Democracy,
Sarah
Looking for a Good Friday
It’s been quite a week.
Whenever a holiday rolls around, it seems like time moves twice as quickly and my list of things to accomplish is twice as long. In the case of this week, we are down a day as well. I really enjoy Easter for a number of reasons, and look forward to it all winter long.
I wanted to be mindful of the religious meaning of this week; to take things in stride and be flexible when something popped up. But for some reason, it was the “Let’s See How Much Shit Sarah Can Tolerate Week”. Unfortunately, I didn’t get that memo.
Monday to Thursday was filled with tests and challenges. Kids who were seeing how far they could push each other, and me; days at work that went from slow and monotonous to being assigned a mountain of work; barely speaking to my husband, and not because we didn’t want to talk, but because he was just as busy as I was. Trying to sympathize, empathize and take the high road.
A friend of my was caught in a bind regarding the care of her horses, and being faced with no alternatively, I offered to help her out. It was something I found myself looking forward to! Which did help somewhat with the ongoing frustrations of the week.
Each time I looked at these events as challenges I could deal with. The kids were tired, and coming down with colds so I tried to get them to bed sooner. Well, I tried – they argued and resisted and ended up going to be a the regular time. I tried to think of improvements at work that could fill my down time and worked efficiently when the work load suddenly doubled. I gave a lot of thought to how we could accommodate the various schedules over the Easter Weekend so that everyone was happy.
That’s when things really started to hit the skids.
Every now and then, I find I go through a couple of days, or in this case – a week, where I could say “Hey, How are you today?” and the person I’m speaking to would hear “WHAT THE F— IS YOUR PROBLEM?” I’ve been told this is a problem for Virgos, so when I saw it starting to rear its ugly head, I made a point of gearing down and measuring my words. Sympathize, empathize, high road…… Rinse and repeat.
Yeah, that bombed.
So by Thursday afternoon, two people thought I was a Grade A bitch, ironically, the two people I had gone out of my way to accommodate. Massive FAIL. In both cases, the exchanges ended with me removing myself from the conversation so I didn’t say what was really on my mind.
On Thursday afternoon, I’m fighting my way through the throngs of people. People who leave their cart in the middle of an aisle in a grocery store so they can look for FRIED ONIONS THREE FREAKIN’ AISLE OVER! People banging in to you, and your cart, which is overflowing. People who think the day before a long weekend is the BEST time to catch up with their neighbors, five feet inside the store doors.
Throughout my tour at the grocery store, I noticed two women; one about my age and her daughter, who would be the same age as First Born Son. I noticed them look at me in the meat section. Then again in the frozen foods. I could feel someone looking at me a couple more times, and thought I was getting a complex.
Finally I navigate the humanity that is a grocery store at 5 p.m. on Maundy Thursday, and I end up in the line behind these two women. They look at me, look at each other, and then START WHISPERING.
Folks, I nearly lost my mind right there. After trying so hard to not feel negative, to try and look at things from other peoples’ points of view and trying help out friends and family who have need help throughout the week – only to get slammed, I was ready to put my fist through their carton of eggs. Very. Ready. “WHAT THE F— IS YOUR PROBLEM?” was on the tip of my tongue – and I would have meant to say it!
As we crept toward the cashier, and I started unloading my groceries, when the mother spun around, leaned in towards me and said,
“Your hair ROCKS! I LOVE it!!!!” with the biggest smile I had seen all week. The daughter, behind her, was smiling and nodding vigorously.
In a instant I felt horrible for being such a mental bitch to her, combined with a mix of feeling flattered and pleased, because one does not expect to receive compliments, never mind in public. I gave her a big smile and said thank you. She and her daughter continued to converse, but now I could hear some of it, “awesome” came up a couple of times.
Once I got in my vehicle, I thought about how things can spin on a dime. All week I had worked so hard to make everyone else happy, and not a single person recognized me for it, or in fact, told me I had made things worse. Here, I go about doing my own thing, and a complete stranger comes up to me and gives ME a compliment; something that I myself have made a habit of doing to other people.
And the hair….
Totally ROCKED!!!!
Happy Easter, Happy Passover!
Passing on Perfection
There was a conversation about my sons earlier this week. The person I spoke with made a profound comment.
“Your sons are just perfect.”
My heart sank.
Crazy, right? Mothers around the world would love to have their offspring branded as “perfect” and yet all I can think is “NOOOOO!” I thanked her and dismissed the comment at the same time. After all, there is no way IN. HELL. that my kids are perfect. Their mother certainly isn’t.
I’ve had issues with that word, that concept, for a while now. I don’t believe in “perfect”. Perfect is limiting, unattainable, and damaging. Lifetimes have been wasted in the quest for perfection. It’s a conversation I’ve had with The Big Guy throughout our relationship. He’s a big believer in “perfect”. As you can imagine, it makes for interesting chit chat.
The perfect couple, right? WRONG!
He is driven by details, and is brutally hard on himself. He pours over the fine points. I am deadline driven. I can accomplish a huge amount in a very short period of time. Together we are a great combination, even if we don’t come from he same point of view. Perfection is something he values, and I’m still wondering why he ever wanted to be with me since I know that I don’t rank very high on the Perfect Scale. Nor would I care to.
You learn so much more from a mistake. I don’t want perfect children. They would be very uninteresting. They are better prepared for life with the flaws that they have and learning how to overcome or embrace them.
Perfection is a relative term. My idea of a perfect evening could be pjs, a bowl of popcorn, a great movie and a blanket to cuddle under. Yours might be an evening at a restaurant with friends. Which is actually perfect? Is my vision wrong because it doesn’t match yours? My definition the following night could very well change. Was my first night not “perfect” because I picked a new “perfect” the next time?
THAT’S more like it!
Once perfection is achieved, which in and of itself is almost impossible for the majority of us, the next mammoth task is to maintain perfection. Any less is failure, which perfectionists know full well, is the antithesis of perfection.
Now please don’t misunderstand, I believe in putting your best effort forth. I think its important to have a personal best. I have looked a photographs I have captured, which at the time were my best, and now I can do better. It’s about growth and the continued development of me. Tomorrow I will do better than I did today, just as I am better today than I was yesterday.
Perfection is uninteresting, predictable. Perfection is the starting place of downfall and disappointment.
Give me flawed, real, genuine. It speaks to me and is a far better motivator.
The Bowery Girl 