Thursday, March 29, 2012

"Stop Screaming at Me You Cow!", Is What I Really Wanted to Say.

I see how you are, you naughty cheeky monkeys... my Steve Nash scandalous blog readership went through the roof.   See, you can't lie, people love drama and gossip and intrigue.  You know you do.

You know that old chestnut... the one person that always announces loudest that they "hate drama" is always the instigator of said drama.  This person is usually capable of producing the most elaborate Greek Tragedy ever.  Or as I like to call it, the "Sh*t Stirrer".  I have to say it usually is true, that's why I only say it sometimes, quietly.

I'll admit I love me some good gossip.  However there is a difference between just listening or reading (thanks to Facebook and Twitter) to some good drama, and participating in it.  I don't think there are many times in my life when I really got involved in perpetuating or starting drama.  There have certainly been times where I amplified my own issues and created more drama in my head than I needed to, but I never got involved in anyone else's.

Oh wait, I remember one time about oh maybe 6 or 7 years ago, I got in a war of words on a blog with someone on Myspace.  Yes, laugh if you must.  We were all on there at one time, don't pretend you are too cool.  It was the in thing to do then.  So I couldn't even tell you what the argument was about but it was like banging my head against the wall because it was with a woman with histrionic personality disorder.  Believe it or not I'm an incredibly rational person and when I debate with someone who is just off their rocker, it frustrates the hell out of me.  I learned when to say when.

That's why I get so frustrated when I click on a TV show sometimes and it's just perpetual bickering about nothing.  Some of these shows, that's all that goes on, they show one group talking, then they show another group talking where someone told them everything the other group says.  Then somebody from that group has to confront someone from the other group, then the remainders have to have a meeting about those other two people's confrontation.  Jesus, Mary and Joseph!  Whatever happened to just rolling your eyes at something you hear?  Hell I've had people in my life say to me, "So and so thinks you're annoying".  Did I go stomping out trying to hunt that person down and beat the living snot out of them?  No!  I just rolled my eyes, and shrugged.  To each his own.  Not everyone is everyone's cup of low fat chai latte.

If by some chance it was a little touchier subject, like someone was going around spreading lies about me, I calmly went and talked to the person.  Hell, I even did that to the woman I found out was having an affair with my then husband!  I also had an old neighbor come to my house once and accuse me of having an affair with her husband.  I was so shocked I tried not to laugh.  I couldn't pick her husband out of a police line up, I didn't even know his name.  But I've been there when you think your husband is up to something, I tried to be nice.  But actually after she left I kinda' felt like punchin' her in the throat for accusing me of such a thing.  I don't mess with OPP.

 I have a little tip for ya'... it throws people off when you approach them calmly and ask questions.  You come at someone yelling and accusing, their just gonna' yell back, then they have a reason to be nasty to you.  You come at them calmly and civil, they get all flustered.  Seriously, try it.

I'm sorry I've become boring in my old age, and don't like a good scrap.  Maybe I'll dig up some more scandal from my past to satiate your drama-lust.  But seriously, I get tired of hearing chickens squawk or people going at it like rabid chihuahuas.  Really, you just sound stupid.  Ever listen to the Mob Wives yell over each other?  I rest my case.  My advice is adopt the eye roll.  When people start saying bad things or gossiping, just roll your eyes and shrug.  Like water off a duck's back.  ...Or if it's about someone else, laugh then keep it to yourself.  :)

Oh and hey, visit my new Facebook page for my blog, thanks!

Thursday, March 22, 2012

That Time Steve Nash Stuck His Hand Up My Skirt...

Ok, so it hasn't been all seven plagues in the life of Madge.  I have had a few laughs, smiles, and adventures in my life.  Here's an interesting story, yet maybe something to be gleaned from it as well...

I lived in Denver from 2000 to 2006.  I became a divorcee' in 2001.  I had a few crazy years after my divorce.  Eventually I found a few other divorced Moms in my squeaky clean suburb that actually weren't Stepford Wives and wanted to have a little fun.  Hey, I was in my mid 30s, I wasn't dead yet.

In 2005 the NBA All-Star Game came to Denver.  Now, I could give a rat's ass about pro basketball (except if maybe the Knicks were in the finals... which is like finding a unicorn) but it was probably a once in a lifetime chance to take in the spectacle.  I decided to go downtown, I think it was maybe the night before the game, no it couldn't have been... I don't know it was one night of the All-Star weekend where they had activities going on.  Several bars had special events, promising possible appearances of 2nd rate players, and there was one big event called the NBA Experience somewhere.  We just wanted to see what was going on.

I had a friend, oh let's call her "Tanya".  Now Tanya was a total MILF in her early 30s from my burb who made jaws drop when she walked in a room and she knew it.  She nipped and tucked her body into a lovely va va voom silhouette.  She was blonde and blue eyed and just oozed sexiness.  She was very Marilyn-esque.  "Tanya" dragged me along to some club that was supposed to be hot that night.  Again, we weren't dead but we were in our 30s and downtown was filled with hot 20 somethings looking for an NBA player to rope into Baby-Daddy land.  I reluctantly went in...

It was crowded and annoying.  Some young drunk idiots were hitting on us, I was not interested in babysitting that night.  Tanya was on the prowl.  But she was a little bored with the youngins, so she gets on her bat phone.  She thinks there is better action at this NBA Experience place.  We haul our behinds over there via 16th St. tram.  Crickets.  The place was dead.

Tanya is back on the phone.  We get back on the tram.  We go to some other bar.  She keeps holding my hand to walk me through the crowd, apparently this is something hot chicks do to tease the gentleman that they might be up for a threesome.  I'm like damnit, quit grabbing my hand, you're not my Mother and I'm just not up for hot girl on girl action!  Geez!  That place was just kind of average, so Tanya's back on the phone.   If you haven't noticed, she has a short attention span.   Suddenly she tells me we're going to a bar I know well... but it's like this quiet wine bar/restaurant.  I think to myself, "What the hell could be happening there?"  Well, I don't care, I'm glad to get a way from all the nightclub douchiness.

We get to the place, greeted outside by some guy that had apparently been on the other end of the phone with her all night, and the place is empty.  It appears closed.  However the dude assures us he is friends with the owner and he told us to come.  Finally the owner does come to the door, greets the dude with hugs and tells us to come on back.  I was thinking I just wanted to go home at that point.  But we walk into the back room and there is a small (very small, about 10 people) party going on.  Glasses of wine and scotch and cigars being smoked.  We say hello, and the people barely gave us a nod.  Then as I'm sitting there I realized who two of the men were.  Thanks to my ex-husband's incessant sports watching, I realize the two men were Steve Nash and Dirk Nowitzki, teammates from the Dallas Mavericks, however Steve had just gone back to the Phoenix Suns at the time.  I tried to keep my jaw from dropping.  Tanya had no clue, I think the dude knew but I was oblivious to him anyway.

I didn't want to seem annoying and star struck, so I was polite, made small talk when possible.  Steve is from Canada, so we chatted about me growing up near the border.  Steve was a little bit of a cranky drunk though, and I think he was waiting for the "talent" to arrive.  Dirk was just an out and out surly drunk.  He was sitting there yelling obscenities and throwing crap, and laughing occassionally.  In my head I so wanted to ask him to say "I must break you", but I figured he'd pick me up and throw me if I did. 

Some Canadian old boys of Steve's finally showed up and they all piled on each other.  It was a homie love fest.  And with them arrived the "talent".  A couple of 20 somethings in short plaid school girl skirts and high heels.  I think they were off-duty strippers.  They weren't there to perform neccessarily, but they were there to look at and flirt.  Mind you, I was wearing a short skirt and heels myself, but these chicks looked ya' know, ready for action.

It was time for the soccer moms to go.  I knew we were just extra baggage, so I summoned Tanya to go.  But we had to trek somewhere else in Denver to find our car.  Steve and another guy said they were getting in their limo to go wherever and they would give us a ride to our car.  Hey, ok we'll take it.  We all pile in the limo, it was crowded, the trollops were sitting on the guy's laps.  We get to our destination and all the men were very polite and said nice to meet you and... Steve is still seated with a girl on his lap and goes to help me out, I think, and all the sudden as I step out, his hand goes up my inner thigh!

Then the door quickly closed and they were off.  I was a little shell shocked for a minute.  Was it an accident?  Or did I just get groped by an NBA All-Star?  I was shocked, but I laughed.  I think it was an accident or just an old boy being an old boy.  A good number of other bottom feeder women would have tried to make that a money making situation.  Now if perhaps he had palmed my privates while there, I probably would have called the police.  But a harmless leg touch, however close it was to my no fly zone... I couldn't drag some harmless drunk dude through the mud with a dumb lawsuit where I was just trying to make a buck. 

Maybe that's why I'm always broke, I'm not an opportunist.  Should I be?  Some people think I'm bitter, but I'm really not.  I prefer the term curmudgeonly, but I'm not vindictive.  I just don't have it in me to create senseless hurt for others.  Hopefully karma pays me back with a column or book contract or at least a lottery win! :)

Thursday, March 8, 2012

How I Was Almost a Stripper...

If you've been a regular reader of this blog (I thank you), you know by now I've been through some struggles.  When I first got divorced 11 years ago, I had been a stay-at-home Mom for 5 years (however, did some p/t real estate marketing on the side), and had 3 children under the age of 7.  I was granted child support but it wasn't enough to completely cover living expenses.  "Just get a job!" was the answer by everyone.

Well sure, if I had held a job previously as a doctor, lawyer, engineer, executive, or high end call girl, I could have "just gotten a job" again and made enough money to live comfortably and cover day care.  However when one has put their career on the back burner to raise children, pretty much the only people that want to hire you are those that need a receptionist for $8-$9/hr, which doesn't even cover child care for 3 kids.  And I went to college for broadcasting, they pay about the same as the receptionist job.

So what's a girl to do?  Hey, I wanted to work and pull my weight, but I also wanted adequate care for my children and to be available should they be sick.  For a few years I had trouble making it work, then I thought I had it figured out being a realtor (working partly from home) for a while, but just as I really hit my stride, the real estate bust happened in Denver.  Then years later I moved back here to NY, kids were now in school so I could concentrate on cultivating a career, but the ex disappeared and so did my child support. I was flat broke.  I often heard the phrase, "you could always strip".

Some were joking... some were not.

There were times, very very desperate times, (and a few years ago and 20 lbs less) I thought about it.  For a fleeting moment, I crafted in my head, how I could go to another town nearby where I could perform on stage as "Chrystal Courvousier" (stripper name + booze = more tips) and wouldn't get recognized by anyone and my kids wouldn't find out.  Just make enough to get a little ahead, and BOOM!  Problem solved.  

We all fantasize about how to solve our money problems - winning the lottery, robbing a bank, selling drugs, waiting for old relatives to die (I didn't, but come on, you know someone has), and hooking.  Seriously, who hasn't entertained themselves internally by thinking "What if?".  But like most of us with a shred of conscience, we decide we cannot.  If you have kids, sometimes you think you would do just about anything to feed them.  I was almost homeless, been that desperate.  But it comes down to your... decision.  Me, I just could never look my kids in the eye again if I stripped.

I can't label it values, morals, or conscience.  I can't judge.  I certainly think there are decisions that aren't in yours or the kids best interest in the long run.  But sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. The survival instinct sometimes brings out rash decisions.

Instead of hooking or stripping, here's what I did... I cleaned friend's toilets for gas money.  I swept and hosed down their porches for food money.  I helped friends who had businesses, doing menial tasks in order to buy toilet paper.  My friends on Myspace actually had a small fund raiser for me.  I can't tell you how much that helped.  I am eternally grateful.  I sucked it up and went down to the Department of Social Services and applied for food stamps, heat, and medical assistance.  Actually going to DSS to me was more humiliating than cleaning toilets, but I did what I had to do, all until I found a steady job.  Or in my case, 3 part-time jobs that equaled 50 hours a week.

I don't claim to be self-righteous.  Oh God, not by any means.  When my kids weren't around I downed a few gin and tonics and cried myself to sleep.  You just do what you have to do.  Just stay away from illegal stuff, and keep your adult "acting out" away from the kids.  But please keep in mind, there are lots of options before you turn to desperate measures.  There are plenty of private agencies to help, as well as the gov't. There's always someone who needs a toilet cleaned.  The aid is there, we've paid our taxes and contributed, that's what it's there for.  Don't be afraid to ask for help, it's the most courageous thing you can do for you and your children.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

If You Don't Go to the Dance with Me, I'll Shoot You in the Face

Seriously, this is what it has come to.  I'm afraid for my kids sometimes that, (due to several incidences in the last 15 years), what if they look at a kid sideways, reject an invite to a dance, or laughs on 1st impulse when somebody trips, that that kid is going to go postal or stalk and beat a kid to death.  Unfortunately, it's our new reality.

All right, since no one else is going to say it, I'll say it...

How the hell do you not know that your kid is on the verge of going mental and planning to shoot up his school?  I say "his" because a girl has yet to go into a school with guns blazing, but ya' know, give it time I'm sure.  So for the sake of saving pronouns, I'll just refer to the child as a boy.  Ladies, don't feel left out...

I understand there are one or two kids that somebody did see the signs, they were taken to psychologists, undergoing treatment, yada, yada, and it still happened.  I guess there is the rare case where a kid is just psychotic and when they snap, they snap.  But I'm thinking, still, wouldn't he be under closer wraps, maybe taken out of the public school and put in a safer environment?

Ok, psycho kids not withstanding... who the hell doesn't see this stuff coming?  This kid in Ohio a couple of days ago, everyone said,  "oh he was just a quiet average kid".  The kid freakin' posted on Facebook he was gonna' shoot sh*t up!  How much more warning do you need?  Ok sure, kids talk a lot of crap.  They exaggerate.  But even if my kid were kidding about stuff like that, I'd be concerned and have a talk.

With several of these kids (what a shame I can use the word several in this sentence) involved in these school shootings, their background is... kinda' sad.  To me, anyway.  They often live with Grandparents, or Aunts or Uncles or whoever.  Many times not the parents.  These kids are disposable kids to begin with.  And I take it said guardian isn't paying that much attention.  Those are really sad cases.  What do you do?  If Mom and Dad aren't deceased, then they should be taking care of their own damn kids!  Yea, I know, my kid's Father abandoned them a couple years ago, to me it's a crime worse than any except murder.  There oughta' be a law.  People need to stop walking away from kids, or don't have them to begin with!  Step the hell up!

Ok, then you have the kids that did live with the parents like the Kleebold and Harris boys responsible for Columbine.  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!  These two had arsenals in their homes and bomb factories in their garages and no one noticed?  What kind of irresponsible parent are you?!  They should be held responsible. I'm sorry, it's not that hard to keep tabs on your kids.  I'm just flabbergasted on that one.

I'm not a perfect parent.  But none of my kids has even ever had detention in their lives and I have 3 teenagers, one's about to graduate!  .  (knock wood, let's keep the streak going!)  But for the love of all that's holy, pay attention to your own God damn kid!  Listen to them, talk to them, observe their moods, look at their Facebook and Twitter pages.  You don't even have to be invasive by looking into their phone, just freakin' look at them!  I just... kids are my passion.  They shouldn't be troubled, they should feel loved.  Let's start loving them, paying attention to them, teaching them how to cope in the real world.  When things don't go your way, marching into a place and shooting it up is not the answer.  Pay attention parents, that's an order.