24 November 2007
(And why is it that the people with great ideas - to me - are always considered people who are nutballs who can't possibly win because they are so out of touch? I know I'm a freak, but am I THAT much of a freak?)
23 November 2007
I'm not so big on crowds. I'm not terribly keen on shopping, either, so the day after Thankgsgiving is usually devoted to seeing how many times a day one person can eat mashed potatoes (the record is eight, I believe. And no, I don't believe in those horrible non-fat "make them with vegetable stock instead of butter and milk" travesties, either).
This year was different. I went shopping on Black Friday. At the mall. I spent a boatload of money. I survived. And I was happy about it.
Despite my worst fears, I got in, got a parking spot right away, walked in, made my purchase and walked out, 10 minutes later, grinning.
The old Red Stapler iBook finally coughed up a hairball yesterday morning and expired, clicking and gasping.
Yes, my computer died on one of two days a year when it is physically impossible to get a new one. Do I have your sympathies? I suffered, people, I suffered for tens of computerless hours.
Yesterday was not a good day.
Today, much better. Those Apple store kids are so nice. And my new MacBook is just wonderful. Shiny. Happy.
Now to pay for it. Writer needs freelance work! Any and all offers considered.
22 November 2007
I seem to have developed an...um...extreme sensitivity to a new brand of toilet paper.
I feel like I am sitting naked on a racing bike seat that is woven from Brillo pads.
It is going to be a fun holiday.
Hope your weekend is itch-free.
21 November 2007
I don't know what the latest p.c. term for him would be, but my mom would probably say "He's a little slow, bless his heart."
I don't sit next to him out of a sense of misguided Christian charity, so I'm not looking for a gold star on my report card. I sit by him because I truly enjoy our conversations. It is pretty hard to be in a bad mood after a talk with Neil, because he keeps such a positive outlook.
We sat together at Thanksgiving and I was so touched when he got out a little card for me. I want to share what he had written in it, because with his message was so sweet that I thought it captured the spirit of thankfulness in a way perfect for this holiday. I only hope to be so eloquent and succinct:
Appreciate encouragement, support. Sitting next me in church service. Wonderful child of God. Make different others life. Have a good sense humor about life. Good Sunday School teacher for child learn from. May life be showers with inspirn. from Neil.
I can't remember a time when I have been more honored.
I wish you all love, happiness and all good things on Thanksgiving and in the coming year.
20 November 2007
The non sequitur stuck and, 30-something years later, I still find myself saying it every once in a while.
Like today, when I read the NY Times article that Suzanne is talking about.
It is all about how, at Jets football games, men stand around during breaks harassing women to show their tits.
When one woman appeared to be on the verge of obliging, the hooting and hollering intensified. But then she walked away, and plastic beer bottles and spit went flying. Boos swept through the crowd of unsatisfied men.
Suzanne mentions that two young men, Patrick Scofield (Poughkeepsie, NY, age 20) and Marco Hoffner (Lacey Township, NJ, age 18) are quoted in the article, and she has some words for them:
If women were smart (and lucky for you, they are not), they would read about your attitudes and decide that no one should ever, under any circumstances, have sex with you. You would both be shunned like the pathetic, hateful pieces of shit that you are until you apologize and learn how to behave like a civilized person.
Here's a nice thought for you, Suzanne - these men are both very young and are not very accomplished. So the NY Times article is likely to be the biggest thing to ever happen to them. Which means, for the rest of time, when someone googles "Patrick Scofield" or "Marco Hoffner," the first thing that will pop up is the NY Times piece. Good luck getting jobs, guys. You may need it. Ain't no justice like internet justice.
19 November 2007
I was standing at the counter between the dining room and kitchen of my parents’ house, the counter where the phone and calendar and address book sit.
I glanced down at the calendar, upon which my mother lists everyone’s birthdays and ages.
Nov. 26: Laura – 57
My chest instantly tightened and my eyes filled. I blinked hard and tried to keep breathing, talking, carrying on conversation with my parents while drums pounded in my ears.
Nov. 26 is my sister’s birthday. Was. It isn’t her birthday anymore. Is it? She won’t ever reach 57. That’s what stabbed me so hard. The wrongness of that number.
One part of me wanted to erase it, that 57. The other part of me just doesn’t know what to do.
18 November 2007
Scene: major airport
A man berates a ticket agent in the rudest possible manner. The ticket agent keeps his cool and is extremely polite and professional. The man stalks off in a huff.
My friend JFE: Wow, that was amazing. That guy was such a jerk and you were so calm. How do you do it?
Ticket agent: Oh, that's easy. He's going to Philadelphia and his luggage is going to Atlanta.
That, my friends, is why you should try to be nice to the little people. Kindness pays, and so does jerkness. Just in different ways.