Thursday, September 13, 2012

Networking: When Awkward People Attack!

Please come read my new blog post, follow the link below.  And please follow my new blog over at my new site.  Thanks!

New blog post up - Networking: When Awkward People Attack!

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

I'll Be the Old Woman Carrying Booze Around in a Hot Water Bottle

New blog post up over at my new site -

I'll Be the Old Woman Carrying Booze Around in a Hot Water Bottle

Please click on the link and follow me by email over there.  Thanks!  Love you all!

Thursday, August 23, 2012

My Blog is Moving, Please Follow Me

I am moving my blog over to another site.  Please follow me there.  Click here for new blog post:

Well There's Always Work in Fetish Films, Right?

Thanks for following!


Thursday, August 16, 2012

I Know You Want My Underwear...

I was having a major case of writer's block the last few days.  So, I figured if I just start writing, it would flow.  That's what happens a lot, I start writing about one thing and it usually changes into another.  But as I was taking off my clothes to get in the shower, I realized... underwear is uncomfortable.  There's a blog.

(I know that paragraph was a bit of a non sequitor, but that's part of my charm.  :)  Consider it literary ADD.)

Anyway, so I'm getting undressed and my underwear drops to the bathroom floor and I look at it.  "Man that's uncomfortable, I'm glad to get that off", I think to myself.  (or maybe I actually said it out loud, it was early, I do that sometimes)  They were lacy boy shorts.  You know what those are right, kinda' boxy?  Although they were the sexy ones that are kind of cut in a V in the back, designed to have your buttcheeks hanging out the bottom?  Bottom butt cleavage, I guess some people think it's hot.  I just know it gives me a wedgie.  Top butt cleavage is just your crack, that's not sexy, and it feels breezy.

Does underwear make the man?   I mean woman...  or man,  no, er, uh whatever.

So I start thinking about women's underwear.  Why can't we just be like dudes?  You have, what... 3 types of underwear: tighty whities, boxers, and boxer-briefs?  Well then I guess there are jock straps too, but I really don't know anyone who wears them anymore (I have a son who plays sports), guys all wear those shorts with the built in pocket to place the cup.  Or if they just want mega support and to keep it from floppin', they just wear compression pants.  Sorry for the visual.  Oh wait, I guess I've seen thongs and bikinis for men too in catalogs.  But I'm assuming only male strippers wear those, so they don't really count.

But we broads have a wide assortment, most of which are extremely uncomfortable.  Tut, tut, tut, don't say it!  I'm sorry, I find any chick highly suspect if she finds thongs comfortable.  I call shenanigans on that.  I think you say it just so guys think you're hot.  I think men like the idea that we are somehow deriving sexual pleasure from a piece of fabric wedged between our buttcheeks all day.  Seriously, I think that's part of the allure for men.  Do you really think a piece of V shaped fabric between two bare asscheeks is sexy?  Well ok, maybe you do, but I think they also like the idea of the illusion of personal pleasure.  Whatever.  And don't talk to me about commando, I don't want my junk rubbing against rough jean seams and zippers and stuff, not to mention unsanitary.  Ouch and ew.

Hey I like to be sexy!  I'll fake comfort and wear that stuff.  But given my drothers, I'd rather don a big ole' comfy pair of cotton bikinis, that aren't too tight, aren't too loose, and stay in the right place, and I'm happy.  Sans wedge.

Which brings me to another tangent.  Women go through a lot of damn work and pain to make ourselves appealing to the opposite sex.  Yes, yes granted we elect to do it, but truth is, if we didn't.. we would be the cheese standing alone.  Not to mention, get passed up for jobs.  You know it's true.  Another fact is, you need to keep up with the Jones' in the appearance department.  Society is a cruel place.  It's judgemental.  So we have to dye our hair, wear makeup, do our fingers and toes, wear ridiculous shoes, waxing, uncomfortable clothing and undergarments, not age (via botox, collagen, surgery, etc.) and still have a smile on our face through it all.

And what do men have to do?  Not much.  Some do a little.  But let's face it, you can still be fat, bald and ugly and your woman will still love you because that's how we roll.  This isn't a man hating rant, it just seems the only thing you had to do was be charming and chivalrous and now that has even gone out the window.  And yes, I blame feminism and the sexual revolution a bit.  When I was doing online dating, it seemed men would just send out mass emails with such catchy lines as "Wanna' meet?"  or "Wanna' have sex?  Here's a picture of my junk.".  Actually that was pretty much the same thing in real life too.  With all the new media, who has to try? I guess, it's just a numbers game now?  Throw enough shit against the wall to see what sticks?  And when it comes to an actual date, there's not much "trying to impress" going on.  It's usually, here have a drink, and let's cut out the middle man of charming chit chat, let's go have sex.

I guess maybe I'm just bitter... or a realist.  Romance is dead.  Chivalry is dead.  Civility is dead.  Valuing character and non-artificial, girl next door looks, has gone the way of the dinosaur.  I want to go back to the days of when sexy lingerie was panties that went from your thigh to your rib cage and a bra that looked like a missile silo.  I miss ladies with arm hair and men that wore suits and hats on a date.  I wish I lived in a world where foreplay wasn't just your lover asking you to bend over.   Oh well, what can I do?  I'm stuck now keeping up with my waxing and dying and dieting... but I'll be damned if I'm goint to wear uncomfortable underwear!  Screw you, society!  I'm a rebel like that.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

A New Reality Show Based on My Cleavage

I don't know about you but I'm really freakin' sick and tired of total useless toolbags or dimwits being rewarded with TV shows, fame and money... just for being complete asshats!

I've been doing a lot of research while planning my next steps to take over the world refine and advance my career.  Looking at what's trending, figuring out how to brand myself.  Have you seen what's out there?  Jesus, Mary and Joseph it's a sea of vapidity, shallowness, low IQs, boorish, low class behavior and violent personalities.

It seems the United States has set the bar incredibly low for entertainment and celebrity.  I know there have been thousands of  blogs and articles and commentaries on all the craptastic useless reality stars and their low rent television shows.  But it goes for all forms of entertainment, TV, radio, books, magazines, blogs, theater. 

All they do on these TV shows is feature incredibly dim people like Swamp People and Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, so we can laugh at them.  Which honestly I think is a little mean, but obviously the dim bulbs don't care as long as they are getting a paycheck.  Or they feature scantily clad ladies with bodies made by Mattel, like... picking dates or pulling hair (I don't even know what the plot of that Bad Girls Club is other than to have cat fights).  Or they show ridiculously rich people with their horrendous problems like so and so didn't invite so and so on the girl's trip to London.  F you!  That's a major traumatic problem in your life?  I'm insulted.  Try my life, ya' twatmonster, you wouldn't survive.

Books - "Fifty Shades of Grey"?  Really?  Do you realize how terrible this book is?  Dickens, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Hemingway are probably rolling in their graves.  Horribly written.  And as a mature adult woman, I find the characters extremely offensive.  I don't know if offensive is the right word.  But the girl is everything that's wrong with women, and he's a controlling douchecopter.  Having been married to one, I see nothing sexy about this at all and it's the kind of thing that leads women to thinking it's sexy and adventurous to get involved with a bad boy.  Ok, not a bad boy, just an asshole.

Blogs?  Don't mean to sound like I'm better than anyone, but some of y'all just ain't funny.  Probably not anyone that reads this blog, because you all are smart and have good taste. :)  But I've seen some of the really popular blogs and it's just not funny, and the readers are acting like it's the most outrageous hilarious stuff ever, like when the blogger calls herself a hot mess.  Ok that term was so 5 years ago.  These people probably still laugh out loud to episodes of "Full House" and write ROFLMFAO to "I can haz cheezburger" memes.  (some are worth a chuckle, but c'mon)  Did I even write that acronym correctly?  I've never written it before in my life.

Theater - "Bring It On, the Musical"?  The cheerleading movie, really?   'nuf said.

So yea, I'm jealous.  Envious, jealous, whatever it takes.  I've worked hard, raised 3 very smart kids on my own after their Dad took off, and I work a few jobs.  I don't want to be poor anymore, I want that big paycheck.  I want to meet Andy Cohen!  I want to have a makeover and be dressed by a stylist.  F*ck yea, you bet I do!  So, what can I do?

I need an angle, a gimmick,  something to brand me.  No I don't want burning metal on my flesh, I mean to package and advertise me, make me a brand name.  What have I got that's special?  Humor?  Well maybe, I don't know, funny to some, not funny to others.  I'm mature yet hip?  Maybe, but I'm not uber hip, I couldn't critique club DJs for Rolling Stone or anything.  I'm not gorgeous, not hideous, but not gorgeous.  But I have been told I have a nice rack.  Even by the select few that have seen me naked said I have the boobs of a 25-30 yr old (hey at 47 that's a huge compliment) even after having 3 kids!  And yes, they are real.  My secret is, I didn't get them til I was about 40, they haven't had time to sag.  Well, maybe I had them before, I just didn't notice, I was modest.  I gained about 15 lbs and suddenly got ample bosoms.  And I have amazing bras.  You have no idea what a good bra can do.  ;)

So, that's it.  I will try to pitch every media outlet in the world to get a reality show for my rack.  A rack could have a reality show, right?  I mean, most shows are just about looking at racks anyway right?  Just cut out the middle man, don't need vapid girls with dumb premises, just feature my rack.  "Madge's Rack".

Oops, need to lighten it up, too emo, too much face in that one...

We could feature my boobs on a nice night out, a wacky date or something (too much plot?)...

My rack is even religious and attends church...

We can show my rack at work, writing...

We can show my rack eating my daily meals...

Take a look at  my rack doing daily housework... 

I would have to show facial expressions with my rack once in a while, ugh I'm not happy to see you...

Look at my rack, it's ready for a formal event...

Gratuitous full body bikini shot (no stunt double)...

And my rack, in a highly dramatic plot twist (the hand to the mouth is my signature pose, it means I'm demure, yet filthy)...  oh I forgot there are no plots in my show, well maybe a little...

And then I'll throw in something completely different once in a while so that the low brow folks have something to laugh at and relate to...

Well there ya' have it.  My new show, featuring my brand... my rack.  I could also write blogs, books, and radio shows centered around my rack.  Whattaya' think?  Hey if you're having trouble leaving a comment here, go to my Facebook page and leave a comment (you have to like it first) Madge's Adult Survival Guide Facebook Page .  Just waitin' for those offers to roll in now...

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Your Worst Date is Someone Else's Best Date

The subject of perception has been on my mind a lot lately.   It all started with going to my niece's wedding in Orting, WA a few weeks ago.  My niece told me that the only music that would be played would be country and some old rock.  I immediately got agida because I absolutely hate country music.  I was prepared for the worst.

I'll tell you what happened after these messages...

About 10 years ago I dated this guy a bit when I lived in Denver.  I had been divorced for about 2 years and was hoping to finally find some romance.  He certainly seemed charming.  So charming that he conned me into thinking he was an ex-NHL player, which I found out later was untrue via the wonders of that newfangled Google.  Anyway, he was charming, sent me flowers, the whole shabang.

Valentine's Day was coming.  Oh boy, this is it, he's romantic, this is gonna' be killer.  Finally!  I hadn't had a romantic Valentine's Day in years! 

Days before Valentine's Day he says he will pick me up that night at 6pm, and it's a surprise where we're going.  Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.  The day arrives, he picks me up at 6pm, and he starts driving out of town.  *squeal*  He starts driving toward the mountains.  *squeal*.  He's driving further up the windy mountain roads.  Surely we're going to a quaint bed and breakfast... but he didn't tell me to pack a bag?  Oh well, who needs clothes, right?  Forty Five minutes later we arrive at our destination... 

A casino.

Hmmm, well it's a casino in a hotel, maybe we are eating at a great restaurant and spending the night!

We park the car and go inside.  And he stops at a blackjack table.  He sits down.  Lights up a cigarette.  And starts to play.  While I... just stand there.

Uh, oooooook.

Three things you should know about me - 1.  I don't particularly care for casinos.  2.  I can't stand cigarette smoke.  3.  I hate gambling or playing any card games or slot machines.

I stood and looked around.  Homeboy was kind of oblivious because he was thrilled to be there.  I let him play for a while and then finally I announced I was hungry.  He said, great we can take care of that.  I thought, ok we'll have a nice meal and it will be a wash.

We walk around, he's looking around like he's trying to find something.  I said, "Did you have a reservation somewhere?".  He answers no.  *red flag*  It's Valentine's Day, no ressie, no eatie.  But we keep walking... and then he's tickled pink he's found the answer to our prayers!

A buffet.

Yes, a classic casino buffet restaurant that you stand in line for half an hour to eat imitation crab legs and industrial mashed potatoes.  It was God awful.

I tried to be polite and grateful.  I ate, watched him play and smoke some more and then we went home.  He did not get him any.

I've told this story to many people over the years and multiple times people said, "That sounds like a great date to me!".  Which made me feel like I was some sort of snobby bastard, but the fact is that it was just everything I don't personally care for.  It's fine if you like that stuff, but I was miserable because he never did ask me once what I did like to do!  A perfect date to me is a good dinner in an upscale restaurant or homecooked, and then a night in a room with flowers and candles and a fireplace.  Now some of you may hate that, but it's my perception of romance.  Did he ever even ask if I liked casinos?  That would be a no.

So back to present day and my niece's wedding... we go to the wedding and it's like Country Mouse and City Mouse.  A lot of my family are East Coast city people.  My niece lives in rural Washington state.  They like hunting, fishing, country music, and pickup trucks.  Yes, yes there was a bit of that, but they were also nice people that like to have fun.  And honestly my niece's first dance with her husband was the most romantic thing I'd ever seen.  She was wearing a traditional white cotton strapless gown, and he was in jeans, cowboy boots, white button down, brown vest.  They danced to a slow country song (don't ask me the artist, I don't listen to that stuff), but they started to do a little slow two step.  My heart melted and I began to tear up.  That was their perfect idea of romance and their perfect wedding.

Perception.  Is perception reality?  It's my reality, it's your reality.  But in the end, it's just perception.  (Man, I'm deep)  :)

Tell me about your worst/best date the the other party perceived as the opposite...

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Writing Prostitution, My First Book Review

I've been asked a few times to review books or products in my blog.  Until now I've been kind of avoiding that because, well I don't want to enter the world of "cheese blogging".  That's just my own little term that I coined.   It's the blogs that are more focused on generating views by giving crap away or talking about how great a cleaning product is for $50.  Cheesy.

See, I've been writing blogs since 2005.  I only blogged on Myspace for years and had a rather large following (shut up, it was cool back then).  Then I didn't write much for a couple of years and tried to get back in the swing a year or so ago.  But the reason I started my blog was to just write for me.  My jokes, my frustrations, my lessons learned, my raunchy humor, my passive-aggressive messages to  male readers that dumped me.  You know, the usual.  It was just me and my friends having a laugh or cry.  But in the last couple of years trying to make it as a real life paid writer, I've had to consider more factors in my blogging.

Yes, yes, I'll get to the book review, hang on...

There are all kinds of blogs and books and seminars out there that give you advice on how to  popularize and monetize your blog.  One of the big things is to "work for the man" and give away lots of items from companies, and review books and products for kick backs or mentions.  *sigh*

No offense to you folks that do it, but it seems really cheesy and hype-y and gets on my last nerve.  I think it takes away from the authenticity of the blog.  But hey, I realize people need to make a buck.  But it's just the way I'm programmed.  Ya' see, I went to college for broadcasting, and worked in TV and radio for 10 years but eventually left it behind because I realized it was being "run by the man".  I had delusions of grandeur visions of being a DJ and bringing the people the latest and greatest in punk and new wave and any other future sounds.  I soon realized it was all pre-programmed crap, that was ruled by back room deals made by music directors and record reps.  I couldn't even talk about what I wanted to on air, all I could say was, "You just heard the latest from Celine Dion and TLC, more music comin' up after this".  Boo, you suck!

Seriously, book review up next...

I'm all about keepin' it real in the streets, man.  Ok, I can't say that with a straight face.  But that's always been my thing.  I don't want to "sell out".  But... I have to make a compromise somewhere if I want to reach my goals.  *sigh*  That's why I look like a normal person now and not my shaved head, Doc Marten look of old.  However, no money has exchanged hands for this review, I myself am attempting to write a book, and figured it would be good karma to help other writers.

So, without further ado... I received an email asking me to take a look at a book and blog about it.  The book seemed rather adorable, so I agreed.  The book in question is "Catalog Living at Its Most Absurd -Decorating Takes (Wicker) Balls"  by Molly Erdman at .  (PLUME, published by the Penguin Group, 115 pages)  When I received it I must say how impressed I was at the cover photography and slick production.  Usually some of these books look like they were put together in the copier department of Stapes, but this book is lovely.

The concept of the book is right up my alley... making fun of things.  The book features pictures taken from furniture/decorating catalogs, under the guise that they are all from the narrators, Gary and Elaine's home.  It features witty explanations of what's going on in the pictures, especially when there are inexplicable objects in the photo as we have all seen in magazines or catalogs.  For example:  There is a picture of a lovely contemporary living room with a coffee table, that has five apples lined up perfectly, precariously on the edge of said table.  The caption underneath reads, "Gary, the Fullers will be here any minute!  Did you evenly line up the apples on the coffee table yet?"

Other pictures just make fun of the odd or pretentious accouterments in the room.  One of my favorites is a living room that features a really large square clock with hands, the background is white and has the letters X, Y, and Z in black in random placement. (approximately where 10, 1, and 5 would be).  And the caption reads, "Half past Z?!  Elaine, I asked you to tell me when it was a quarter to Y!".

The book is a cute concept, is well put together with lovely production.  However, to suit my tastes, the captions would have been much more biting, irreverent, and profanity laced.  But that's just me.  No offense.  This is a lovely G rated version of sarcasm and worth a few chuckles.

I welcome you to visit the website listed above and check it out.

Phew.  Got through it.  Molly, perhaps you could give a review of my first review?  Or anyone else for that matter. 

Now that I'm becoming a writing prostitute, I welcome anyone else to ask me to review something.  However, ask at your own risk, if I'm in a mood I may "release the hounds"!  Smooches!

Thursday, July 26, 2012

When Unrequited Love Becomes Requited Crap

All of us have some unrequited love goin' on.  Oh, balogna (that's such a dumb word, it should be baloni or baloney, but I guess it's like how capacola became "gobbagool", anyway...), you all have that one person you say, "what if?" about. 

Oh yea, the levels of intensity of the "love" vary.  It can be anything from the kid that used to mow your parents lawn that you never said two words to or it could be someone you dated a bit and the relationship got cut short for whatever reason.  It could be you thought your lover drank the poison but they were only sleeping, so you killed yourself.  Oh wait, you wouldn't be reading this then...

I've had many of these in my life.  Hey, I had a lot of crushes as a little girl, I'm not a ho.  There were a few boys from high school that I would have liked to date but couldn't because I had a steady boyfriend.  So, there's that.  Then I had the steady boyfriend that fizzled out when he went to college and I moved away.  In the early 80s there weren't cell phones, or Skype, or IMing to keep you together.  But I'm always curious to know how that relationship would have played out in our adult lives.

To requite or not to requite, that is the question!  I'm here to tell you... I've requited.  Yes, yes it's true.  Thanks to the internet, after my divorce I got down to brass tacks, went back to basics, put the cart before the horse... wait what?  Uh whatever, I ran across some blasts from the past.

There was the internet thing but a couple of times it revolved around high school reunions.  I'm telling you folks, you need to go to these things.  It's excellent for networking and dating.  So you had a bad time in high school?  Get over it, walk in with your head held high, and use those people for getting ahead in your world now!  Anyway, one of my run-ins was with a boy who was my "boyfriend" in 5th grade.  I broke up with him because he tried to give me a Minnie Mouse ring, and I knew if I came home with it my parents would ask where it came from, then they would know I had a "boyfriend", I would get an hour long lecture/screaming at  and my 11 year old self would never be let out of the house again until I was sent to the convent. 

Flash forward, I ran into that "boy" later in life and we eventually got together and had an amazingly awesome time.  But... it didn't get into a serious thing because we were geographically several states apart, I just got divorced, still had little kids, and he was still a raging never been married playboy.  lol  I took it at face value, I'm glad it happened.  And now he's married and kicking himself.  :)

However I had a couple others (Stop calling me a whore! These have taken place over 12 years!), that it, well it just was less than stellar.  That kiss you had waited 30 years for was like... "oh, that's it, that's what I waited for?".  Or that happy go lucky boy you had the crush on is now a neurotic mess and is starting to stalk you.  Um, yea.  I won't go into specifics but it just wasn't good, but overall I'm glad it happened.  Now I know.  I still have the fond memories of the younger crush but don't have the pangs of want.  Know what I mean?

Those were kind of fun but the ones that are more intense are the unrequited adult loves.  Oh, they can be so difficult...  Or not.  A difficult one was deciding to move back East when something was never totally finished out West.  The "or nots" can be disappointing or funny.  I remember running into a guy years later after I had gone on a date with him post divorce.  I thought he looked great.  We went out again in those later years and... I remembered exactly why I didn't want to go out with him again years before.  He was nice but very self-impressed with the personality of a bag of wet hair.  Another one, we never got intimate but had obvious sexual chemistry.  Years later we got intimate and it was what I imagine sex with a quadrapalegic with Tourette's Syndrome would be like.   Yes, that bad.  *heavy sigh*

But I had some others I haven't revisited and still wonder what if?  What if we both hadn't been just divorced and both been messes?  What if we didn't always run into each other when we were dating someone else?  What if your previous girlfriend hadn't found out she was pregnant by you?  (yea that happened)

I don't know.  I do like knowing the ending to the story.  I'm not a big fan of not knowing.  It's my anxiety.  I never could go to sleep on Christmas Eve.  Others will say not knowing is part of the fun, the fantasy.  That's why some people you meet online play games with you, they have no intention of meeting, they just like the fantasy of the hunt.  Weirdos.  I'm not kidding, those people exist.  What about you?

BTW, sometimes it will appear your comment has "vanished" after you hit submit, but it doesn't it takes you to the sign-in page, sign in (or register), then your comment will appear again and you just have to press submit again, the comment will show up with whatever identity you chose.  Thanks!

Share your requited love stories with me!

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Why the Hell Did I Come Home?

I don't have much to say today but I thought I'd check in.  I don't even know what day it is.  I took the redeye from Seattle Tuesday night and arrived home yesterday (Wednesday) about noon.  I got absolutely no sleep on the plane.  It's virtually impossible for me to sleep in any kind of chair.  (I don't know how my parents did that in their living room chairs all those years waiting for my drunk teen tukus)  Then I napped a bit yesterday afternoon and then of course could 't sleep last night.  I'm all kinds of f-ed up.

So I didn't write last week because I was in Seattle.  The kids and I flew out and stayed at my sister's house because her daughter was getting married.  My lovely little niece.  All 5 of my siblings were there, and all but 1 of their kids were there, and 2 spouses were missing.  Oh and my parents couldn't make it, my Dad is 89 and has arthritis so bad he can't really get around much anymore, let alone sit in an airplane seat for hours.  And my Mom who is turning 86 next month has to stay and take care of him, he can't really be left alone.  So that was sad.  However a cousin of mine that I was really close to as a kid was there, hadn't seen him in about 16 years, we had a hoot.  But all of us there had a great time, enjoyed each other's company and as usual went through a boatload of wine and beer.

So I come back to all kinds of crap I have to do to finalize health records and loans for college. Having a hell of a time with my insurance, they say I have insurance from another company, which yes I did... in 2003, but still shows it's open.  That company went out of business and no one will call to cancel.  It's just a total clusterf**k.  So my current company put me on hold, whatever the hell that means.  Guess I'll be on the phone some more!  Well F*ck-a-doodle-doo!

Oh and did I mention today was my first day back to work and they told me at my one job they are eliminating my position and won't need me after Aug. 17th?  Yea that was a nice warm and fuzzy welcome back.  I knew it was coming sometime, its just a contract position but now is not an opportune time.  And it's 20 hours a week I'll have to replace. :( 

I might as well just bend over and grab my ankles... the hits just keep coming.  I haven't been crisis free in years, but I've been in major league life changing crisis mode for about 3 months straight now and it's getting a little tiring.  But I won't imagine it will calm down until end of August when my son is settled at college.  Wait strike that, school starts in September for the girls which means 3 Fall sports (1 plays soccer, 1 plays volleyball and cheerleading), then come the holidays, so pretty much I'm screwed until after New Years Day.

Well plenty of writing fodder, right?  Jesus, Mary and Joseph, stop this handcart ride to hell so I can get off!!! 

BTW, will write for food.  Ok I'd really rather write for a paycheck but ya' know, just hire me anyway.

Will blog again shortly.  'Til then, you all have a great day... (smarmy smile)

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Which is Better, '80s College Drunks or '10s College Drunks?

One of my pet peeves in blogging or Facebooking or any other sort of internet posting is the person who gets stuck on one subject and beats us over the head with it.  I call it the "Kathie Lee Gifford Effect".  I don't know if any of you remember about 20 years ago when that Kelly show was called "Live with Regis and Kathie Lee"?  Well during that time Kathie Lee had a baby boy named Cody and the broad wouldn't shut up about him.  Regis even started giving her sh*t about it, like making gun to his head gestures every time she mentioned his name.

Anyway, I feel as though I may be on the verge of one of those people talking about my son and his graduation from high school and venture toward college.  I'm trying not to, really I am.  But ya' know, its kind of been the center of my life for the last couple months.  He's my oldest, I assure you by the time the 3rd one graduates I won't even mention it.  No just kidding, but if I take after my Mom it may be true... I was the 6th kid, there are virtually no pictures of me as a child.  lol

Well, since about this past Christmas I've been buying my son odds and ends for his new life at college.  For one thing, I'm broke-ass-broke, so buying things a little at a time is what I can afford.  And another thing, he loved getting all that stuff, he was ready to leave for college his junior year.  So he enjoyed getting a shower caddy and a set of towels for Christmas.  Then for his birthday in March he got a comforter and a hamper.  Hey screw you, he loved it!

Buying all those things got me to thinkin'... wow  college is different now.  I was using my college experience to figure out how I'm going to get all his stuff down to NYC, but I really don't think there will be that much.

Ok, think of this, when I was in college 1983-1987 I packed the following items into my parent's station wagon - a gigantic stereo with turn table, receiver, and tape deck with floor speakers that measured about 3 feet high; a 27" black & white TV (which was considered small back then); a boombox; a Typewriter; a couple milk crates of albums; a couple cases of cassette tapes.  But now all of that fits into one device, your laptop!  OK, somebody may still want to bring a TV and cds or dvds, but they are still far more compact. 

(actually I didn't bring the TV until later years, before that I would go to a friends room, because the TV lounge on the first floor was for the socially awkward and it was always tuned to "Solid Gold")

Then we used to bring a hotpot, really only good for Ramen noodles or a can of Spaghettios.  Which you usually had to throw away after a few uses because you started to make Spaghettios after your drunk ass came home from a fraternity party but you fell asleep while it was cooking  and the Spaghettios burnt to a crisp melded onto the pot .  Remember, drinking age was 18 back then!  And most chicks brought a hot air popcorn popper.  Now kids can take a small microwave.  I think that's pretty much a wash, 2 smaller for 1 bigger.

Hot Pot

I took a bike to school one year, it was still chained in the exact same spot that I put it in on move-in day, at the end of the year.  It would be a pain for my son to have a bike in NY, it's hazardous to bike there and then carrying it up 7 flights of stairs would cancel out any time saving, in my book.

Posters.  I had an extensive collection - The Smiths, Psychedelic Furs, The Clash, David Bowie, etc.  That was my baby, my pride and joy.  But I think dbag ex-husband left them behind as garbage in one of our moves.  Grrrr.  Anyway, do kids still put up the posters?   Oh yea and then my room started filling up with sorority souveniers anyway.

So what do college kids do now?  Sit around and play video games?  Watch YouTube videos?  Text people in the same room?  Hey, speaking of that, remember when we had to wait for a boy to call on that one hall phone that was meant for 20 people, but that one girl was always on it to her boyfriend back home?  Like seriously she was on it 24/7, I wonder what that phone bill looked like.  Anyway, do kids even speak to each other anymore or just text? 

It's kind of fun taking a walk down memory lane as I get the boy ready for college.  Things have changed, but a lot has not.  There will still be learning and studying, drinking, boy chasing, girl chasing, hearts breaking, friendships made for a lifetime.  I'm so excited for him. 

What do you remember taking to college or doing in college that would never be done nowadays?  Do you think kids today have more or less fun then we did back in the day?

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Job Review for Bullied School Bus Monitor - Fail

Fasten your seatbelts because I'm gonna' be the douchebag today.  All buckled in?  I've got my helmet, Kevlar vest, and athletic cup on.  Ok, here we go...

I live in Rochester, NY, which is home to the suburb of Greece which spawned the viral video sensation of Karen Klein the bus monitor and the four foul mouthed moppets "bullying" her.  I thought the children were disgusting.  But it was obviously a game amongst them of "can you top this" with the most shocking and disgusting insult to Karen.  It was inexcusable, deplorable and those kids should be kicked off the bus permanently and made to deal with their angry parents who will have to take time out of work to cart their asses around.  As a parent I know that would be the most effective punishment for my kids.  Hell hath no fury like a parent who has to take time off of work for something that could be avoided.

(Working parents, tell me if you haven't asked the school nurse when they call you at work, "Is the temperature really that bad?"  "Well you stopped the bleeding already didn't you?" Because you all know time off work is money or co-workers or boss bitching about "Madge is always shirking her responsibilities because of her constant sick kids"  BS.  Damned if you do, damned if you don't.  I digress.)

Here comes the douchebag part...  How the hell does this warrant over $600,000 (last I checked) in reward to her for not doing her job?!!!!!  Yes, yes those kids were awful but she's the adult!  Isn't it a bus monitors job to keep order, not just ignore kids and sit in the seat and attempting to ignore them?  It was reported that this wasn't the first time this happened and she had never reported any of the bad behavior, which according to my research is part of her job duties.  Also, when I was a kid we couldn't even talk loud on the bus!  If there was a group of us getting a little rowdy, the bus driver would stop the bus and split us up.  Why the hell did this woman not tell them to stop talking and recording or she would report them?  Why did she not send them to four different seats far apart and tell them to behave? 

I'm not saying she asked for the money or is at fault for any of the money part, I'm saying it's kind of silly for people to donate to that cause.  I'm sure she's very nice, but this whole thing got blown waaaaay out of proportion.  As is everything that goes viral nowadays.  Hell we make celebrities out of little kids on anesthesia!  Give me a break.

I'm just saying, it takes two to Tango.  I understand a kid being bullied, they don't have the maturity to defend themselves.  But an adult?  Ok, so she's "old".  Last I checked 68 wasn't that old.  I have sisters in their 60s that are still running 10K road races and I'm sure would kick my ass if I got out of line.  And it's her God damn job to supposedly keep these kids in line or at the very least report them if they don't stay in line!  Hike up your polyester pants Karen, and lay down the law!

And where was the bus driver?!!!  I know he's busy driving the bus, but he could have pulled over the bus, I'm sure he heard the ruckus.  Or she could have at least told him to pull over and told the little cretins that the bus wasn't moving again until they cut it out.  They'd be pissed if she cut into their Xbox time!

I'm so tired of adults blaming the kids for the downfall of society.  Be the damn adult!  You have the control! 

I've read everyday in the news here locally that they have had rallies and receptions like she's some kind of freakin' hero!  I'm just kind of dumbfounded by the whole thing. 

So if we follow that logic, could you all start a fund for me because I had my ex-husband verbally and physically abuse me?  He was 6' tall and 220lbs of solid muscle, ex-hockey player (a defenseman goon to boot).  At least I had an excuse, I couldn't undo his monster death grips on my arm.  But I soon said enough and made him leave.  I took responsibility.  I understand some women get the crap beat out of them when they try to break it off, so it's easier to stay (in their mind).  I was really lucky the physical stuff didn't get to that level.  But I don't feel like anybody owes me squat.

I've had grown men in bars call me foul names because I rebuffed their advances.  Like really nasty stuff that I can't repeat.  If I didn't just leave, I'd tell the bouncer, that this guy was harrassing women and they'd escort him out.  Nipped in the bud.  Took control.

So yea, I'm a jerk.  I just don't see where that unfortunate incident garners a trip to the community chest for this woman.  It just goes to show you, America loves a good victim story.  Why do you think there have been so many stories in the news lately of people getting busted for faking cancer to get a financial windfall or free wedding?  Or why we hear of so many people getting scammed on the internet by those poor helpless millionaires in Nigeria that can't access their money?  Because they know we are suckers.  Which blows for the people that really are in need.

And I'll even take the douchebag one further... America loves a nice WHITE victim.  Poor nice white lady gets harrassed... America to the rescue!  Pretty suburban white girl goes missing... America to the rescue!  Black or hispanic child goes missing... America is too busy to pay attention.  Elderly non-white woman gets harrassed on the public bus everyday by young hoodlums... America could give a crap.

I know these are two separate issues, but seriously America, pay attention to the real injustices and let Karen Klein learn how to do her job figure out how to pay for her own damn vacation.  Be the adult.  Take control.

Let the hate mail begin...

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Yes I Suck But Parenting is Not a Competitive Sport

I started following an account on Twitter this week that I really like, Sh*tty Mom.   Check it out.   It's a book coming out that I believe is written by two women, and oh how I relate to these women.  (if you want to follow me on Twitter, I'm @MadgeMadigan)

I must confess something...  I produced my first college scholarship winning child by being a crappy mom.  Also my two daughters are still in high school and middle school and are A students, and this is another result of my crappiness.

I frankly have no idea how this happened.  My son is going to NYU in an honors program in the Fall.  He's a wonderfully down to Earth, kind, polite, good athlete, funny as hell, talented in singing and acting, and very insightful.  I have two daughters (I hate to lump them together but they are very similar, see evidence of crappy momness) who are A students, good athletes, kind, polite, funny as hell, talented in singing, acting and art, and are very insightful (when not being hormonal). 

And what did I do?  Pretty much nothing.  The question should be more of what didn't I do?  Shall I list?  Yes, let me count my apathetic ways...

- I never once "made" any sort of foodstuffs for a birthday party, or school party, or Girl Scout shindig, or end of the season soccer party, or some such other convoluted self-esteem building event for children.  I tried to avoid having to do anything all together, but if I was forced to I opted to bring the paper products, ya' know plates, napkins, etc. 

- I never bought my kids anything that cost more than $40 for a present. 

- I never kept my house immaculate.  I'm usually apologizing for the mess when people come over.  I didn't get the housekeeping gene.  I mean, it's not like I'm a hoarder with 6 inches of animal feces and fast food wrappers on the floor.  But there's always stuff around, backpacks, books, magazines, some dust, evidence that we are living.  After a while I become oblivious to it.  I guess I wish an unkempt house bothered me a little more but it just doesn't.  *hangs head*

- I never thoroughly enjoyed playing with my kids outside.  Sometimes I did, but a lot of times I sat in a chair while they ran around.  I'm sad I didn't have the energy to frolic through a meadow with them as if we were in a detergent commercial, but at least I was there.  Albeit sometimes I was texting or talking on the phone but hey, I was supervising.

- I didn't go to every single one of my kid's sporting events.  I almost did!  But sometimes there were three at once and it was just impossible.  Other times I couldn't get out of work.  Other times I was just too drunk.  NO!  I'm kidding.  Just seeing if you were paying attention...

- I've never caught up on laundry.  Almost everyday my kids are pulling the clothes they want to wear out of the laundry basket of clean clothes I just brought up from the basement but haven't bothered had time to fold.

So yea, I suck.  But the truth is a lot of us Moms suck.  And ya' know what?  It's ok.

Sure we all suck compared to June Cleaver, Donna Reed, or Carol Brady.  Hmmm, are those references too dated?  Have there even been any "perfect moms" on TV in the last 25 years?  I don't know, wasn't the mom on Home Improvement kind of perfect-y?  Anyway.  The point is, it's a different world but women still have the "Super Woman" complex.  We feel we need to be all things to all people.  Let's face it, women can be a wicked competitive lot.  And then sometimes women make stupid choices because of what they feel are the more important successes that should be noticed.

Why was I a slacker in all of those areas?  Because I was a divorced Mother of 3 children for 10 years, with an ex who I couldn't depend on, and I had to work to support the four of us.  And any job I've ever had has never paid more than $36k/year.  I couldn't afford much of anything that's why I tried not to volunteer to bring stuff.  Crappy I know, but I wasn't going to spend money I didn't have just so I looked good to the other Moms.  I didn't blow my money on expensive things for the kids just to look good either.  I did my share when we all had to pitch in, but I was always praying that we were done with soccer games before they got to my name on the snack list.  What the hell do kids need a snack for?  They won't starve before they get home.  I played plenty of sports and I never collapsed from malnourishment in the time it took to leave the school and arrive at home.

I didn't enjoy playing with the kids all the time because I was damn tired from working and being both parents.  I didn't clean like a motherhucker because I was tired and I thought my time would be better spent sitting down and talking to my kids and helping them with their homework and feeding and cleaning them.

Basically I had to pick and choose how my time and money were best spent.  I would have loved to bring fabulous baked goods to all their gatherings but I resolved myself to the fact that I'd rather people know me for my awesome kids than my awesome cookies.  Don't get me wrong, I do know women who have great kids and great cookies... and I envy them.  But I do know they might be lacking in other areas, say maybe they ignore their spouse in order to make good cookies.  Look ladies, we just can't be all things to all people so don't beat yourself up over it.  Do the best you can do but try to put the kids first.  It used to bother me that I couldn't be perfect but now I freely admit that I'm... craptastic!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

My Date With a Serial Killer

It's probably not a wise idea to determine that you want to go forward with something just because you don't want to do the alternative ever again.  Like deciding to quit high school because you never want to take a test again.  That's stupid in the long run, know what I mean?  Besides, you'll be "tested" all your life, dumbass.  Pull up your skirt, Sally and get back to work.

So should someone decide to get married just because they never want to date again?  I've actually heard that decision announced before.  Now having been married before and had a long period of dating post divorce, I'm tempted to go hide in the confines of marriage after what I've encountered.

What got me thinking was going out for my birthday this week to a restaurant that's hot with the middle age single crowd.  I soon noticed it was all the exact same lame-os  people that were there three years ago the last time I was single.  Then I started to stroll down memory lane, taking inventory of all my dating exploits as an adult.  I'm surprised none of my dates has shown up on America's Most Wanted as a psychotic serial killer.  I can think of one in particular...

It was probably 8, 9, 10 years ago (I forget, I've blocked it out) I was living in Denver and regularly doing the thing.  This isn't an "all people online are crazy" thing, I met a few rather nice fellows, this one  just happened to be a shit show.  I started exchanging emails with a decent looking, charming, stylish gentleman a few years older than me.  Now, once I start to tell you his details you will probably think, "Madge how could you possibly believe this asshat?!"  Now mind you details were leaked slowly as if he was a natural gas leak.

Some details escape me like if he had been married or had kids, but I do remember he said he didn't live around Denver, he only visited occasionally for business.  Then there was something about owning a vineyard somewhere and had a wine label.  Now that is not entirely impossible as there are thousands of small wineries in this country.  Eventually he tells me he was orphaned as a child as both of his parents died in a car accident when he was a baby.  It could happen.  Then something about being taken in by an Italian couple... I'm also remembering something about sending a baby up a river in a basket with a Hebrew slave cloth, but I might just be confused, it was a while ago.  He said he spoke Italian but I soon realized he only ever seemed to throw out the same 4 or 5 Italian words.

The lies got more elaborate, as the couple turned into wealthy Italians who lived part-time in Europe and he had or would be inheriting all this stuff.  Anyway, the more suspicious lies were coming out after I agreed to meet.  I think I just met him in person just to see what would happen with the stories.

So we meet at a local hotspot.  He walks up to me and he looks somewhat like his pics but you could tell they were from several years earlier.  For those that know, he looked just like  Rich Wakile from Real Housewives of New Jersey:

He wasn't terrible looking and he had some expensive-looking European clothes.  So we sit down and he orders a Maker's Marker for himself and me a Bombay Sapphire and tonic.  He keeps stressing how he's not from around these parts.  He slams his drink and quickly orders another one for himself and me.  Um, I had barely taken a sip of the first one you ordered me. 

As conversation goes on, I start to question his stories.  It seems I'm calling him out a little.  He appears a little agitated and takes me out on the dance floor.  As we are out amongst the crowd, all these folks keep saying hi to him and giving big hugs and kisses.  Um, thought you didn't know anyone?  He said he met them on his trips here.  Then I'm starting to eavesdrop, because everytime a person would come by he would turn away to have a conversation.  This is when I started to hear things like "Have you found a job yet?", "Everybody back where you work at blah blah down the street misses you", "Hey, how's your brother?".  I was furious, yet humiliated I fell for it.  However, I didn't really "fall" for anything, I kinda' knew, but it was like a car wreck, I wanted to go look to see if there were any survivors.

We go back to the table he immediately orders another drink, as I have two unfinished.  When the drink came, I said, "We'll have the check", because I knew the "date" would be ending after I said my peace.  I had a big smile and said, "Ya' know I heard all of your conversations, I know everything you told me was a lie".  I didn't even get mad, I tried to let him off the hook.  But do you know what the m*****f***er does?  He starts yelling at me about.. what, I don't remember because I was busy picking my jaw off the floor.  Something about me being a bitch and negative and thinking I'm too good... then he slams his drink down his throat, throws the bill at me and stomps out.

Yes, scumbag leaves me with a 40 something dollar bill and a bag of bullsh*t.  I was mad about him inhaling drinks and stiffing me.  No not that, I meant sticking me with the bill.  But I could do nothing but laugh and shake my head and wonder what he was thinking.  Maybe he was so depressed about his life he wanted to pretend to be someone else for a while.  That seems to happen a lot on the interwebz.  How long did he think he could ride these stories?  It's like people showing up to a date 100 lbs heavier than their online pics, do they think you'd be blinded by their stellar charm?  But I take responsibility for getting duped, well not duped because I was skeptical to begin with.  Let's just say curious.  However for the future, I don't recommend going out with someone if you think they're lying, it could be dangerous.  Obviously he had a temper, it could have ended worse.

But should I take a dive into the security of marriage just because I don't want to deal with the prospect of that happening again?  Probably not a wise idea.  Yea, lots of widows back in the day used to just marry a guy to get health insurance again even though she knew he beat her kids.  Eh, what are ya' gonna' do?  What you should do is weigh all sides equally, good and bad and make a sound decision.  And have the balls to face stuff you don't really want, don't go hide under your security blanket as an alternative.  You're gonna' have a few thorns amongst the roses.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

A "Meeting in the Ladies Room" I Will Never Forget

Well, I survived the last couple of weeks with my 2 daughter's surgeries and my son's high school graduation.  Piece of cake.  Well, actually I think it's like child birth, there is some magic chemical in our bodies that makes us forget what hell we went through.

And I got some interesting stories out of it.  From my youngest daughter's 10 minute oral surgery that took her two days to recover from  anesthesia sickness to the baby that was my other daughter's roommate after her surgery whom no one ever came to visit :( to my son being stranded 20 miles from home at a prom after party that he went to as a last minute favor the night before graduation.  (he thought they were only staying an hour, he got stuck there til next morning) Ah, memories...

One in particular that happened to me sticks out though as a foreshadowing of my future... that I'll try to avoid.

My son went to an all boys Catholic prep school.  So as part of any good Catholic high school graduation, they have a baccalaureate mass earlier in the day before graduation.  My son had to get there early because he was singing at the mass with the school choir... and so we could get a seat, you know with us Catholics and our large families, seating was limited.

So, yea the mass... We had plenty of time to mill about and at one point my youngest daughter and I decide to go to the ladies room.  (oh great now I have Klymaxx's "Meeting in the Ladies Room" stuck in my head)  This particular ladies room had a long narrow, oh what would you call it, ya' know "lounge" with a sink and vanity and long counter for doing prissy lady things.  I lovingly refer to it as the "pre-toilet" room.  Then there is a one seater toilet room beyond this room.  My daughter and I are in line behind one other woman.  This "lounge" room is long and narrow, so you all have to stand in line for the loo up against the wall like a police line-up. 

The toilet room door opens and a cheery older woman comes out who is about in her 70s.  The woman ahead of us goes in the toilet room.  Older woman is chatting away "Oh sorry to hold everyone up!".  This woman was probably one of the boy's Grandmas.  She was wearing one of those "skirt suits" that old ladies wear with a skirt, an elaborately embroidered long jacket and rayon shell underneath, with a nice pair of sensible dress shoes and lots of diamond jewelry.  As she's walking out she's tugging at her skirt and chatting away.  I chatted back to be friendly as I always do.  My kids actually said they like that I can make friendly conversation with anyone from a cashier to a nasty DMV clerk.  Which is surprising because my parents did it when I was a kid and it used to embarrass the crap out of me.  "Jesus Mary and Joseph, Mom!  Do you have to talk to everyone, can't we just go?"

Right, so anyway, old lady comes out tugging and chatting, and then stops at the end of the counter space and is still chatting at me.  Due to the specs of the room, there was nowhere to look but directly at her.  She starts telling us that she got out quickly so as to let us all get in there and thought she would just adjust herself out in this particular area.  Well thanks for explaining lady, I thought perhaps you had crazed weazels up your skirt or something.  She chats more (for the life of me I can't remember the subject, maybe the weather, the school, I don't know) and she starts tugging at the ankles of her hose.  Then she moves up to tug at the knees.  Then the thighs.  Then she pulls up her skirt to her high thigh and goes up under her skirt and is pulling up there and doing the "adjusting the pantyhose dance" a bit.  I thought that was a little ummmm.. unlady-like, but ignored it. 

But then as she is still happily chatting away to me, she hikes her skirt up over her waist, which turns it inside out and now she can pull it up to her armpits and hold it there by closing her arms.  With her skirt all up in her armpits, she grabs the waistband of her pantyhose and starts pulling them up to her bossoms (as old ladies say) as she starts doing deep knee bends to scooch them up.  Ladies, we all know we've done this, but watching someone's Grandma do it in a public restroom is like walking in on your parents having sex, kinda' creepy.  Mind you she's still chatting away while doing the deep knee bends and yanking her hose over her gigantic dark colored granny (literally) panties.  I should win an award, I kept a straight face the whole time.  My 13 year old daughter made believe she was fixing her sandles so her eyes didn't burn from the spectacle.

Grandma soon finishes up and wishes us well and exits.  My daughter and I immediately turned to each other with the wide-eyed "what the hell was that?!" look and burst out laughing.  After we get done in the bathroom and are walking back into the church, my daughter says "Oh Mom, that's so you in 25 years".  And every time I told that story to my other 2 kids or my "Manfriend", they all responded with that same sentence!  Hey!  I know I'm a little quirky, and don't care what people think, and just make a joke out of everything but I'd like to think I had enough decorum not to yank my skirt over my head in a public restroom while I do calisthenics to adjust the crotch of my pantyhose!  Well, as I turn 47 this Monday (6/11), and my girls have had to stop me from walking into Wegmans with a giant ass-sweat stain on my khaki shorts on a scorching day... I guess only time will tell.

Have you ever had any odd public bathroom encounters?  Do leave a comment and tell...

Thursday, May 31, 2012

The World Revolves Around the Sun, Not You

Life has ups and downs, highs and lows, it ebbs and flows.  Hey, I made a rhyme.  Sorry, I'm a little tired, I'm easily amused.  Those high points are sure great aren't they?  Those low points can be soul crushing, can't they?  But, guess what... silver lining alert!  Those low points can be very educational and serve a great purpose.

I didn't think I had anything to write today as I am literally spent.  I'm all out of mental gas.  One daughter had oral surgery at the beginning of last week.  Another daughter had major surgery to repair a deformed breastplate last Friday and she just got out of the hospital yesterday.  I spent most every spare moment when not working at the hospital and paid about $40 in parking for the week.  And my son is graduating high school this weekend, and I had to attend brunches and ceremonies and whatnot somehow this week.  My son goes to an all boys school, so they had a  Mother/Son brunch, that damn thing made me sob like a baby as he presented me with flowers.  Oy, I'm getting verklempt just thinking about it again.  (and I'm not even Jewish)  And I'm still trying to get the third one back and forth to school and homework done and finish up lacrosse season.

Ok, ok... so anyway.  My point is not to say oh woe is me, and act like I have the worst problems in the world... I certainly don't.  Just letting you know my mental capacity is diminished because of this load.  Oh on top of all that, I had to empty out all my bank accounts to pay my sons $1,000 housing deposit for NYU this week.  And I'm doing this all alone.  Thanks, ex-husband, wherever you are.  It's such a tragedy you are missing all your children's milestones.  Oh, and I forgot to mention, I got a letter in the mail yesterday letting me know that after almost 12 years of legal divorce, my annullment was granted.  Makes one reflect and creates a certain sense of relief and failure.  :(

Oh crap, see I didn't want this to be an unloading of my woes, but maybe that was a bit therapeutic writing that.  Ok, so anyway, silver lining, yada yada... here it is.  With all this stuff that was going on, I've had some other issues pop up, like some people needing attention or having problems they wanted to talk to me about or family members wanting to educate me on one thing or another, or even my own children bringing up things that just don't need to be handled right now.  In the past I would have tried to handle everything, and put on my best crown of thorns and played martyr.  But this time, (and it was kind of hard because I am a people pleaser) I just said no.  I can only handle so much.  I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, please understand I don't dislike you, I'm just at capacity at the moment.  No Vacancy.

Ya' know, when I was in college, I couldn't stand that God damn plastic doe-eyed Nancy Reagan and her patronizing and trite campaign of "Just Say No".  As if complex drug addiction was that easy.  Anyway, now I have some respect for her being 90 something and having lived with a spouse with Alzheimer's, that had to be heartbreaking.  Anyway,  I still don't like it but I adopted the "Just Say No" motto for some things.  (I still think it's a dumbass anti-drug slogan)

I had to firmly say, "I can't deal with this now, I will discuss it later".  And if that didn't work, I just shut it down.  I'm no good to my kids with an anyeurism or nervous breakdown in the hospital.  And no one is going to put a damper on me enjoying my son's graduation either by causing drama.  He's earned this, and so have I.  I paid what wasn't covered by scholarships, I was there when he needed papers proof-read, I was there when that girl broke his heart, I nursed him through sports injuries, I drove him to every damn activity under the sun, I was there at fundraisers and plays and conerts and his sporting events, I took him on all the college visits.  So bite me, you're not going to take this away from me.  Cue James Brown... Say it loud, I'm a Grad Mom and I'm proud!

Going through tough times has taught me it's ok to say no.  It made me realize when there were people in my life that suddenly shut me off (it was usually men that I dated that were going through a divorce), it wasn't personal (I hope), it was they had bigger fish to fry and some chick they went out with a couple of times who started whining about why I can't see them was last on the list to deal with.  Hey, it only took me 12 years to learn.  It was a two-fold learning experience, 1. It's ok to say no when you're overloaded.  and 2. Don't take it personally when someone says no to you.  Saying "Thank you, I understand" and giving space will keep that lasting relationship rather than pissing and moaning and trying to force someone to pay attention to you.   Don't be so quick to judge, you never know what someone else has going on.  It's not always about you or me, sometimes there are just bigger forces at work.  Love and kisses, now leave me the hell alone!  (just kidding, leave me lots of comments)  :)

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Just Like That Other Chick Across the Bar?

I recently read a blog here -- that was an open letter to husbands about looking at other women.  Which got that internal dialog going in me, or perhaps it was just voice hallucinations from my psychosis setting in.  Either way, whoever was in my head, it was pretty interesting.

According to this blog, apparently I'm not the only woman to have experienced a lifetime of men commenting on other women to a woman supposedly important to them.  I have one question:


Ok, I have more than one question, but that's a good start.  No wait, I suppose I should ask this first... is it just me?  Show of hands, how many of you ladies out their have experienced a man who you were either dating or had a close relationship with, make a comment to you about another woman?  For example, you are walking down the street with your boyfriend and he says, "Wow, she has great legs (or a butt or rack or elbow, whatever)".

Now this isn't a man bashing thing gentleman, I need your input too.  I can name you very specific incidentses (that was my tip to RHONJ Teresa Guidice and her ingrediences) as far back as I can remember of men pointing out other women's attributes.  The first concrete example I can remember is my Father... yes, my Father, pointing out to me that Mrs. SoandSo had great legs.  Ewwww, Dad I don't want to hear that!  Was he trying to get me to model myself after her?  Was he telling me my legs were fat?  Or was he just on his third Rye Presbyterian at the Elk's Club?  I just remembered for some reason it bothered me.  Maybe I thought it was a betrayal of my Mom or Me (weird Daddy issues here) or just too kinda' "sexual" for a 13 yr old to hear?  Probably not a betrayal of my Mom, he was always telling us she had a "nice Caboose" and that all of us girls got the "Madigan Trailer".  Ewww.

Ok, let's just move on from that, too creepy, makes me think maybe I need to see my therapist now.  Anyway, next we have my high school boyfriend.  In hindsight, he was incredibly respectful until the last few months of our relationship.  Near the end he was a Senior in HS, I was a Sophomore.  He started making crude remarks about women when we were watching TV, like "Oh baby, look at her".  Well, maybe not so crude, but he was making it obvious he was starting to look.  In retrospect, he was probably getting ready to go to college and telling me, "Hey baby, I'm lookin'", 'cuz that's what happened eventually.  Oh well.  :(

Then in my adult life, mostly post divorce, I was with (dated) men on several occassions that said things like, "God she has a great ass", "Oh my God, look at the rack on her", "She has really nice legs", "I'd like to bend her over", "That girl over there in the red top, I slept with her".  Yup.  I've heard it all.  Those were all actual comments.  Now you may think I have let incredibly crass men into my world.  Maybe.  But I also know I have the type of personality where people feel comfortable and I tend to end up "one of the guys".  That's my fault, I forget to remind men that I need to be treated like a lady.  But it's also fun to be "one of the guys" too... to a point.  If I start "adjusting myself" give me a smack.

Or perhaps they were just testing to see if I was bi-curious?  Yes, men I know this trick, comment on a girl and see if I will take the bait and say, "Oh yes, she is so hot, let's ask her to join us!".  Ummmm... no.  (If there was a new car for me involved, I'd think about it)  Nice try.

Again, not man bashing but I've never done it once in my life and I've never heard another woman do it.  I can't imagine saying to my boyfriend, "Oh my God that guy has a great butt".  Why would I?  I just don't go around checking out guys all the time, and why on Earth would I point it out to my boyfriend, that's just rude?  Only reason I can see would be... to be a dick, try and make him jealous.  Not my style, not a game player.

So, that's what I want to know... what gives?  What the hell is that all about with the pointing out other women?  Is it:

A.  A subtle hint that you are gaining weight and he wants you to look like "that" broad.
B.  A hint that he wants to bang somebody else?
C.  A sign that he feels comfortable with your raunchy humor and thinks he can kid with you.
D.  A test to see if you will have a threesome.
E.  He's just an insensitive ass.
F.  A chick-like move to test your feelings for them to see if you get jealous.

It's one thing to say, "That woman has a pretty dress, that would look great on you."  HA!  Who am I kidding, we all know that doesn't happen.  And it's another to be staring at and commenting on a chick with  a circus tent in your pants.  Are there any men that don't do this?  I'd like to know your thoughts, especially you dudes...

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Idiot Parents and Psycho Kids, Does Not a Good Family Make

Be prepared for controversy today.  I know some of you may have strong opinions on this one, but hear me out...

I was listening to a really crappy morning radio show the other day during the daily kid shuttle, only because every other station was on commercial break.  I was also curious as to what was so great about this morning crew of which people raved.  The answer was: nothing.  But I can now give an educated opinion that they suck.  I digress.  They were talking about a guy who had been shot in the city in front of some kids, which lead to why were the kids out with no supervision anyway?  (which I didn't see how that had anything to do with the murder, the guy was down the street and someone shot him)  So the clueless hosts started to rant about the lack of good parenting in urban homes.  Oy, why not just pull out some racial slurs while you're at it?  So the insipid male host went into full on rant mode emphatically stating that all children would be best raised by 2 parents.  That would be a Mom and a Dad.


He ranted on and on that there would be less crime if there were two parents and more supervision in the home.  Let me just point out one small detail that Insipid Host Guy missed -  if said supervision is a moron, it won't necessarily produce better behaved offspring.

Let me present a few different scenarios.  Now, this isn't a big ole pro-gay parenting rant, don't get your pre-conceived panties in a bunch, I'm just pro-good parenting... just let me present these facts....

* Lyle and Erik Menendez were raised by two wealthy suburban married hetero parents.  (For those too young for the reference, these fine boys were convicted of murdering their parents in 1989)

* I have 3 children and they have a lot of friends and know who does what at school.  Most of the kids that are perpetually in trouble at school come from two parent hetereo homes.

* My older daughter has a classmate who is a boy raised by two moms.  He's 15, star athlete, A student, well mannered, very masculine and dates girls.  I guess the gay agenda to raise a new generation of all gay, all the time failed there, huh? 

* I know some single hetero moms that are raising kids that haved dropped out of high school and are doing nothing but smoking pot and playing video games.  (the kid, not the mom)

* I know two parent hetero homes that have perfectly nice, smart children, but wouldn't know how to withstand a crisis or make a decision if their life depended on it. 

*  George Washington, first president, Founding Father, highly revered symbol of this country... was raised by a single mother.  (his Father died when he was 11)

*  Oprah Winfrey, the most successful and wealthiest female media mogul ever, was raised by several different people.  First by her single teen Mother, then her Mother and Grandmother, then just her Grandmother, then by the man she thought was her biological Father, then she ran away from home for a while, then moved back with Mom.

*  I know a local kid who was raised by two Moms (one Mom was biological via sperm donor), but by junior high the Moms seperated.  Both Moms are attorneys.  So then that made him a child of gay divorced parents, living between two homes.  He was a nice smart kid when he was little, now he's a slacker pothead hanging around with the kind of dirtbag crowd, who I'm not sure is even going to college.

*  A friend had a child with her first husband, he ran off and later she remarried.  The child has been raised by Step-Dad as if it was his own.  The child is well mannered, successful college graduate living in NYC.

* Shania Twain, a perfectly nice successful country singer was physically abused by her Step-Father.

*  President Bill Clinton was first raised by two parents, then Father died so it became a single parent home, then mother remarried and he was beaten up often by his Step-Father.  Although his treatment of females is questionable, he did become POTUS.

*Charles Manson was born to an unwed 16 year old runaway sometimes prostitute who kept trying to pawn him off to orphanages, relatives or other random people, having once traded him to a childless waitress for a pitcher of beer.  And we all know what happened to him...

*  Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold who committed the Columbine High School Massacre in 1999 were both raised in suburban hetero two parent homes.

*  And finally... me.  I have 3 children, got divorced when they were all under 7.  Later Dad disappeared completely, and left us destitute.  I didn't have any romantic relationships the first 9 years of  being divorced.  I work full time but still qualify for food and medical aid.  My oldest is graduating from a top all boys prep school and going to NYU next year.  My girls are both A students, good athletes, well mannered and go to a good all girls school.

My point?  Not sure, I started off thinking good parenting was the key, but some of my scenarios have proven otherwise.  There is no perfect formula for raising non-troubled children.  I'm not married but I'd say my kids are pretty good so far, but should I run out and get married just because Bristol Palin said my kids should have a Mom and Dad?  Which we all know is idiotic because she was an unwed teen mom who pushed her baby-daddy out of the picture.  WTF?

And that whole sanctity of marriage thing?  With people choosing purposely to have babies out of wedlock, the divorce rate for first marriages is (approx.) 50%, second marriages 67%, and third marriages 75%, I'd say that sanctity was shot to hell along time ago.

At first I thought the only thing to ensure decent kids is to not be an idiot, but I've seen offspring of idiots turn out well.  And I've seen children of nice people become deeply troubled.  However, I still don't recommend being an idiot parent like, oh say, the "Tan Mom" Patricia Krentcil.  But who knows her kids could turn out to be rocket scientists.  Not likely, but ya' never know.

Well hell, now I'm more confused than when I started this blog.  Is parenting just luck or chance?  Nah.  Um... maybe?  However I'd say it's safer to be a good parent than not.  All I know is that there is no magic formula like some would have you believe of having a two parent hetero home.  I am certain that the family dynamic does not pre-determine the success of the child.  Neither terrible parenting nor problematic children are exclusive of any one race, socio-economic group, sexual orientation, or living situation.  So... good luck with that.

Let me know what you think, is there a formula for parenting?

Thursday, May 10, 2012

My Own 50 Shades of Grey: The Time I Delayed a Rock Show

In this blog having an adult survival guide theme, I explore the many ways I have survived life and all the various crises that come with it, in hopes it can give others some insight.  A vital part of surviving life is to live a little.  In wiping children's behinds, clipping husband's toenails, scooping up dog poop, working 50 hours a week, and finding the missing soccer cleat... you can forget who you are.  I firmly believe that experiencing your interests in life bolsters who you are, forges your identity and gives you more strength to get through the tough times.

I've had my kids 100% of the time for the last 3 years.  They are all teens now so I can still manage to get out for a while without needing a sitter.  But that's provided they don't have a game, concert, rehearsal, practice, hair appt., date, or work.  I thank God that when they were much younger and I was first divorced, their Dad took them every other weekend (mostly) and I had time to myself.  I could let loose a lot more when I had a whole weekend to myself.  Now, I go out and know that everyone is home waiting for me, it's like being a teenager again.  Oy.
I'm not your typical woman.  Most other women pick up hobbies such as scrapbooking, yoga, knitting, baking, couponing, paddle tennis or book club.  Me, I'm still a punk girl at heart.  I first got into alternative music (back then we called Punk and New Wave), around 1977 when I was in junior high.  So, I've been a sort of alternative interest person since I was a kid.  I like weird people, good music, dive bars, art exhibits, and great old school DJs.  However, I also enjoy golf, fine dining, wine tasting, PTA meetings and long walks on the beach.  You wouldn't notice my alter ego by my suburbanite appearance:

Oh look, it's Biff and Muffy!

About 6-10 years ago when I lived in Denver I used to frequent this place that was a converted warehouse space that housed a 3-4 bedroom apartment and performance space.  I had a few friends that lived there and they threw a monthly party that showcased a few bands each time along with other exhibits including things like art displays, poetry readings, tattoo artists, piercing artists, body painting, and even light S&M displays.  The S&M thing was incrediby tame, just some dude in a leather Speedo and harness strapped to a rack with a girl in an outfit that was a cross between dominatrix and hippie Earth Mother was just flogging him with one of those leather fringe-y things.  No biggie.  I think it was more of a tactile awareness seminar.

Are you afraid of me yet?

Yea, it was slightly a freak show, but I felt inspired there.  I let my inner weirdo free.  Everyone was incredibly loving and friendly, it wasn't seedy.  Anyway, for a while I was dating one of the fine young gentleman that lived there.  He played in a band but he was also a paramedic by day.  One night his band was playing and we planned to meet for the festivities.  I was a size 4 back then, and I showed up in a cute mini skirt and form fitting, cleavage baring top, and high wedge sandals.  I arrived to find him, let's call him "Ira", ready for his performance in just a pair of leather pants and no shirt.  Yes he was quite chiseled.  It was obvious that we both found what each other was wearing that night very appealing.  *ahem*

See, I'm trying to not make this sound seedy and lurid.  Because it wasn't.  ... Really!

He was slated to perform soon but we decided we needed some alone time, pronto.  We retreated to his room without haste.  I felt alive, I felt desired as a woman.  As we were locked in our intense lover's embrace *ahem* ... knocks started at the door.  We were too consumed with each other to pay attention.  They became increasingly more demanding "Ira, Ira, are you in there?"  He ignored them, I was flattered.  "Ira, come on man, we gotta' go on."  (apparently the rest of the band was on stage tuning up)  "Ira, are you in there with Madge?"  Finally he throws them a bone, er uh I mean he says "Yea, hang on, I'll be right out".  Apparently this was a signal for them to start the heckling.  "Get off the babysitter, Joel"  (a line from the movie "Risky Business")  That one made me laugh, and have trouble concentrating.  Soon, it seemed there were several people pounding on the door.  Oh sweet Jesus, did the whole place know what we were
up to?

At first I laughed, then as more voices were heard and then his shoulder length hair kept getting in my face, I decided it might be time to let the show go on, his show that is.  But um, the timing was good I guess, and uh we were finished anyway.  Uh yea, so we quickly got ourselves together and he ran out of the room to get on stage.  He told me we'd continue after the show.  Rawr!

There he was up on stage growling his usual growl, dripping with sweat and sex appeal, and he winked at me.  I was high on sex, gin and tonic, and rock 'n roll, my friends!  I just had the lead singer!  I held up a rock show. 

He ripped through the show and we did what any late 30 something, red blooded American, rock n' roll couple would do after the show... we passed out.  No, not like drunk-like passed out, sleepy passed out.  I have my moments but I don't think I'm still 25, duh.  But for a moment I remembered I'm alive, I'm fun, I'm desirable, I'm a woman, and I still have a pulse.  Ain't no lie.  So, that was fun. 

But remember, it's important to seperate that from the Mommy stuff.  Don't be doin' the more adult stuff in front of the kiddies.  Priorities.   At first it was hard not to feel weird when my kids came back home but I learned to realize I have two identities.   It's ok to be an adult woman with her own interests when kids aren't around.  And no the aforementioned scene was not my only hobbie, I did other things like work out, watch movies with girl friends, Irish women's club, dinner with friends, hockey games, you name it.  Don't judge!

My adult time reminded me that I'm strong and vibrant.  And refueled me to get through the tough times.  You don't have to neccessarily do the stuff I did, uh book clubs and jewelry parties are good too.  Maybe I should have just gone to book club?  Yea, there's a time for that too.  You guys really need to get out more.  :)

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Am I Supposed to Look Poor? Income Levels Should Have Uniforms.

I saw a status on Facebook the other day that said something to the effect, "If you're on welfare, how can you  afford a smartphone?".  Which made me think of a whole image problem I've had for a while.

The question is... if you're, shall we say... uh underprivileged, or uh living below the poverty line, or dare I say it "poor"... oh hell, if you're broke-ass broke... are you obliged to look the part?

Are you being a poser if you try to look wealthy when you're poor?  Or to think of it another way, if you are surviving with government assistance are you supposed to look the part?  And what is the part?  Dirty ratty clothes, a pair of brokedown Toughskin jeans, a pair of warn out generic K-Mart sneakers, messy hair, dirty finger nails?  When you go to the Department of Social Services do you demand to see the "poor and huddled masses"?  "Excuse me Miss, I'm here to inspect your dreggs of society to make sure they are poor and huddled."

Here's why I bring this up.  I know I'm like a broken record, but there was a time I was broke.  Right now, I'm mid range broke, but there was a time I was lowest of the low broke.  Long story short, ex-husband split and stopped paying support, I lost my job, unemployment got held up for like 6 weeks, no savings, got evicted, yada yada.  I had absolutely no income for 6 or 8 weeks with 3 kids.  I entered hot mess land.   I was cleaning friends toilets and writing real estate appraisal reports and ad copy for $10 or $20 here and there (I kid you not) for money to eat, while I looked for a full time gig.  So, I went to social services, and that of course took a few weeks to get through the red tape, I think about 6 or 8 weeks later foodstamps and heat assistance kicked in.

My background, grew up in a family with 2 parents who were Penn State grads, my Dad is a WWII veteran, both parents were white collar, we had belonged to a country club at one time, we travelled, eventually my parents owned a second home in AZ, all 6 of us kids went to college, some advance degrees, I went to college in Maine for 4 years.  Bottom line, basically I'm well bred and educated, I ain't no slouch.  Soooo...

When I had several trips to the DSS, I was thinking "how should I look?".  Should I look like a Wal-Mart shoper?  A dumpster diver? I remember judging people in the past and thinking, "you're in the welfare office, why are you wearing Baby Phat with your hair and nails all done talking on your smartphone?".  We've all done it.  Shut it!  No!  You know you have.  I was still trying to work and going on interviews so I would be dressed and ready for work, coiffed hair and makeup.  But I felt like I should go in there with no make up, hair in ponytail, sweatpants, kids in just a diaper, smoking and yelling at my kids about kicking their asses.

My Catholic guilt is actually palable, isn't it?  You can see the visions of self flagellation rising from my head, can't you?

My ex in-laws used to judge me all the time because I presented myself well, they thought I was taking the mountain of money small stipend that their son was giving me for child support and spending it all on myself.  HA!  My kids even defended me, they know I never spend anything on myself.  They have to prod me to do it.  I have gone a year at a time without buying a stitch of clothing for myself, only to be forced to because I wore out the crotch in my only good pair of pants or something.  I am just frugal and have enough dignity to try and keep myself presentable.  My in-laws refused to believe that even though I looked fabulous, I was only wearing a 5 year old $79 coat from JC Penney, a $10 3 year old Calvin Klein sweater from Marshall's, a $15 6 year old tweed skirt from Marshall's, 5 year old $19 BCBG shoes from Marshall's.  And I simply dried and straightened my own hair, tastefully put on makeup, and painted my own nails with a 2 year old bottle of OPI nail polish, and wore the only necklace and earrings I owned which were stylish pearls given to me by their son 15 years earlier.  Is that so wrong?

By being properly dressed or wearing something with a label and having my nails done and checking my email on my smartphone that was a free upgrade at contract renewal time and is the only phone I have now, no home phone... I'm sure I have been labeled by strangers as a welfare fraud case a few times.

Some people think you should be "real" and look the part of whatever your income is.  I felt bad for making myself look like a million bucks when I only had 59 cents to my name.  It reminded me of that old Carol Burnett skit when she plays Scarlett O'Hara and her house had burnt down but she comes to the door in a dress made from the curtains with the rod still in it.  That's me... sans rod.  I guess I'm more like the movie.  But I am kind of quirky, I would wear the rod.  OK, nevermind.

I do have to admit that I feel really guilty when I go into Wegmans wearing fabulous heels and a dress, hair and nails done and I pay with foodstamps.  But again, did my own hair and nails, clothes and shoes were either from Target or Marshall's and a few years old. 

I won't be on foodstamps forever.  I do work.  A lot.  But unfortunately for having 3 kids, my household size to income ratio is still below the poverty level.  And I won't be as brazen as Old Dirty Bastard of the Wu Tang Clan and go on MTV and ride in a limo to get my welfare check.  As I get higher paying and more frequent writing jobs, I'll be done with government assistance, but for now I need it.  Now, had my ex paid his child support, I wouldn't need assistance.  I didn't sign up to be a single parent, so I must keep plugging along to get to a level wear I can provide as if I were 2 parents.

So, I just ask that the next time you see someone coming out of DSS or paying with foodstamps at the store and they are well groomed and dressed properly... don't be so quick to judge.  We all need help from time to time.  Don't be hatin'...