Not a big tipper

I went to get a pedicure with my sister today. Again. It is something she has talked me into recently although I'm really not that into my feet. I mostly only do this with her. It's a good excuse for some child-free time and it feels pretty good.

So we go into the pedicure place today and get our feet soaking and Pedicure Lady immediately gets to work on my sister's feet. Manicure Man was working on someone else and so I sat for about 8 minutes soaking my feet in the hot water and letting the massager go up-and-down on my back until he was done and came over to fondle my feet. It was nice, I'm not going to complain about that. What I am going to complain about is this. Pedicure Lady and Manicure Man finished up with our feet at almost exactly the same time which means that I got a pedicure that was 8 minutes shorter than my sisters but was charged exactly the same amount. I didn't leave much of a tip. Frankly he's lucky I left a tip at all because as he was painting my toenails I commented that the shade of pink was a little lighter than I thought it would be and he didn't even offer to let me get a different one. I have renamed him Sucky Manicure Man.

Oh, yeah, after we sat under the lights for a few minutes Pedicure Lady came over and removed the little foam thingies from between my sister's toes, helped her on with her sandals (which of course she knew to bring, being a regular, so her toenails wouldn't get messed up) and then walked over to the register and rang her up. I continued with my toes under the lights until she pointed at me (Sucky Manicure Man was nowhere to be seen) and said "You're done" as she stood by the register as I removed the foam thingies from between my own toes and grabbed my boots because that's all I had with me. I didn't put them on. I just wore the funky foam flip flops out to the car. I figured it was the least they could do after such obviously biased service.

In contrast, Darling Manicure Girl, who was working on someone's fingers but had been the one to do my sister's pedicure last time we were there (months ago) said to me, "You've been here before, right? Long time ago. Didn't you have new baby last time? You skinnier now."

I should have given her the tip.

Mama said there'll be days like this.

It's been sortof a crappy day. I won't go into all the reasons. Here are a few of the highlight moments that made me shake my head.

I went to Walmart. (No wonder it was a crappy day, I detest Walmart.) While trying to park someone tried to steal my parking space as I was pulling into it. I honked and got irritated at which point they stopped moving until I parked and then drove past me in a huff. I spent 3 extra minutes in my car thinking about how dumb that was because I was parked so close to the door and they would probably key my car on their way in and out. They didn't, but they probably thought about it.

When I came out of Walmart to the above mentioned car I loaded my stuff in and when I took Pudge out of the cart it started to roll and hit my bumper. It didn't do any damage and a guy who was standing nearby grabbed it for me and put it away. That may sound like a good thing but then he proceeded to stand a mere 6 feet from my car and have a cigarette while I finished buckling my kids in and tried not to breathe. I detest smokers. They are the rudest people on the planet.

On my way home it was one jerk after another pulling out in front of my car or cutting me off. I kept getting trapped behind slow vehicles. At one stop light, I was the last in a big long line of cars waiting to make a left turn and I didn't make it through. As I sat through the second cycle of lights I noticed one of the reds was sortof flickering. I think it was laughing at me.

I'm going to bed early tonight. Mama also always said that things look better in the morning. I hope she's right.

Happy to be Nappy?

I was looking through a magazine this morning and came across an idea for a book bin. It was essentially this. You make color copies of the front of some of your favorite picture books and slap them all over the outside of a big bin. Then you put books in it so the kiddos don't "have to pull the books off of the shelf". I won't even go into how stupid I think it is that we must spare our children the effort of pulling a book off of a shelf. But that is not what this post is about.

The title on one of the books was "Happy to be Nappy" and featured a little dark-skinned girl with . . . you guessed it . . . nappy ponytails. Now, I'm guessing that the author is a person of the dark-skinned variety. I'd stake money on it. Because if a person of the fair-skinned variety were to write a book with the word nappy in the title they'd be immediately accused of KKK and Arian Nation membership, they'd immediately be tarred and feathered, and they'd likely never work in this town again. That is assuming the book ever made it to publication in the first place, which is unlikely.

This BOTHERS me. The idea that it is somehow okay for one group of people to use derrogatory terms in reference to themselves but if anyone else uses the same terms they are racists. If t.v. and movies are any indication the "N" word (which is just horrible) is still alive and well, it's just that the only people who can say it anymore are . . . ? WHAT?

Just to save myself some time I'm going to henceforth refer to persons of the dark-skinned variety as black. It is not meant to be derogatorry, it just takes less time to type. I'm sorry, but I refuse to call them African Americans. No one has ever referred to me as an English American though some where in the past my ancestors were from England. It seems stupid as I have never been anywhere near England. Actually, I think I have some Indian ancestry as well so you can call me, what . . . an English Native American American? No thanks, I'm just an American. Most black people in the U.S. are just Americans. The term "black", while not really adequately describing their skin color, is simply a statement of differentiation the same as the term "white" applies to me but doesn't adequately describe my skin color. I'd call it more of a pasty, freckly peachish-pink.

I was in the car with my kids the other day and my daughter started to talk about one of her classmates, a black girl who has been her friend for several years. They've been in the same class together more than once, she's been to our house to play, and Gem has been invited to hers. She is definitely a minority where we live though we have a fair amount of diversity here. My children notice a difference in their skin color but we have always acted as if it were no big deal, so it isn't. In referring to her friend, Gem stumbled over what to call her. She started with "black" and then sortof stammered to "brown skinned" and ended with a feeble "whatever". It startled me. She is only nine years old and she already doesn't know what to say for fear of causing offense. She doesn't know why but she knows there are some terms that aren't politically correct so she's worried about hurting feelings. This isn't entirely a bad thing. I'm glad she's learning to choose her words carefully and desires not to cause hurt. What bothers me is that we have taken so many steps in our society so as to avoid offense that we are afraid to use descriptions. Well the truth is: Gem's friends looks different from us. She does. We look different from her.

If you ask me, the best way to stop giving offense is to stop taking it. The black community at large is doing better than it has ever done. There are true injustices that have been dealt in the past but those are largely gone now. Yes, predjudice is alive and well in some places but in most places it is disappearing. Black people have more opportunities than ever before and if we are honest with ourselves they have more opportunites than white people. White people cannot have their own colleges now. But black people can. Scholarships cannot be restricted to whites only but they can be restricted to blacks only. Don't even get me started on the NAACP, Black History Month and Affirimative Action.

Hubb and I sometimes joke that the best way to make it into professional schooling in this country is not to have good scores but to be a retarded black woman. No, it's not politically correct. I am usually not when I am trying to get a laugh. You'd have to know the whole history of our educational journey to get the joke probably. Sorry.

So despite the fact that I believe in equality I also believe in individuality. I believe in diversity and I believe in honesty. I don't believe that anyone is better or worse than anyone else. Sometimes I just want to scream from the rooftops "GET OVER IT!" Then maybe we can all just get along. I'll laugh with you at myself. You laugh with me at yourself. We'll all laugh at each other and appreciate our differences without getting stuck in the quagmire of appropriate terms and hurt feelings.

A Happy Childhood Day

Today I had grand plans. I was going to clean my blinds since Hubb lovingly asked my last night if we should hire someone to come in and clean them. I was going to sweep and mop. I was going to dust. I was going to wash towels. I was going to make a nice dinner.

Instead I held Pudge a lot. He likes to be held to go to sleep. It drives me crazy sometimes since it makes it really difficult to get things done. Today, I tried not to be annoyed by it but just to enjoy his incredibly yummy babyness. When Diablo got home from her playgroup (this was when I was going to dust but held Pudge instead) She wanted to play in the rain. Pudge sat in the stroller in the garage while she played and I worked on my photography skills. Then Diablo asked for a bath so we did baths in the middle of the day. That's when I should have been sweeping and mopping. When Gem and Teaser got home from school they wanted hot chocolate and marshmallows. That's when I should have been making dinner. Instead I started the towels and we had leftovers. After homework and piano practicing we watched a movie and I made a batch of cookies. I let them stay up late to finish the movie and I edited my photos to make up for my lack of photography skills. I didn't even consider cleaning the blinds. Maybe I'll take Hubb up on the offer and hire someone to do it.

I hope when they grow up and they are asked to speak in church on Mother's Day they won't tell everyone how dirty the house was. I hope they'll talk about the hot chocolate and cookies and playing in the rain. Today I just tried to make it a happy childhood day. Maybe tomorrow I'll get some of that housework done. Maybe I'll call just Merry Maids. You never know.

Some babies are not pretty

I'm sorry to be the one to say it. Some babies (and when I say babies I mean kids, too) are not pretty.

Not mine, of course. Moms are biased. We know we are.

Not yours, of course. (See comment about bias, above.)

I blog surf sometimes. Just clicking on links on the sidebar of whatever blog I happen to be on because I like to see where it takes me. I especially like to look at photography blogs. I'm noticing that there are lots and lots of people out there who fancy themselves to be photographers. Some of them are. Some of them are not.

But one thing even a great photographer cannot hide is an ugly kid. They can usually make them look better but it's never quite enough. And I wonder. Do you think the parents know? Does anyone really acknowledge that their child looks a little like Quasimodo with a skin rash? Do the photographers think to themselves, "No way I can make this kid appealing." Do they make the backgrounds more lavish to detract attention from the kid?

Please don't think me mean. I know full well that true beauty lies on the inside. Babies are great, and snuggly and sweet. Some of them just aren't very pretty.

I don't really like shopping. Or crusades.

I took my kids shopping today. They were out of school. That's like torture for me so I decided to share the love and I dragged all four of them out to look for shoes. We came home with a suitcase, a strainer and a snowman themed spoon rest. Every household should have one.

It wasn't altogether bad but while we were out I saw a bumper sticker that I'm still pondering. It read:

This vehicle uses only terrorist free gas and dinosaur free oil.

Okay, I get the terrorist free part. But dinosaur free? Please tell me we are not on a crusade now to save the dinosaurs. I'll save the whales. I'll race for the cure. I'll stamp out hunger. I'll immunize by 2. But I absolutely WILL NOT join a crusade to save the dinosaurs! Talk about a lost cause.

Wait.

Maybe if we could find a way to save the dinosaurs and set them on the terrorists....


Hmmmm.....

Off to get me a bumper sticker.

Hubb and Al E. 08 go on a date

So Hubb and I went out on a date last night. He actually asked me out a couple of days ago. I still love that. We've been married for over 10 years but I get all starry eyed and girly when I get to go on a date. I had to chuckle, though, because we did the same thing we usally do. We grab the coupon book and discuss all the places we could go and then go to the place we always go, which of course, has no coupon.

We decided to do some Christmas shopping after dinner for the kids. They've had a particular present in mind for some time now (it's one of those hot ticket items) and the store we went to had only one left in stock. Since we had only gone to learn more and start price shopping, I stared in amazement as Hubb stated that he didn't want to risk not getting one and proceeded to grab it, several accessories and companion pieces and even bought the extended warranty. Several hundred dollars later we strolled out of the store. This may not seem remarkable to most but to me, that is monumental. Hubb is one of the biggest tight wads on the planet. We had a good year this year. I think it may have gone to his head. I'm going to go shopping before it wears off.

I want to win, I want to win!

I'm trying to win some super cute Christmas cards.

They are here, if you want to take a look.


*update* Well, I'll be doggone! I won. It must have been my contest entry which I WRINKLED, excessively. My friend told me that's how you win contests. I didn't know it would work for virtual entries, too. Awesome!

The Day After

I am not usually one to wax political. I have little interest in politics, quite frankly. I hate the mud slinging and the tongue wagging. I hate self-serving politicians and lobbyists. I hate that the minority is always more vocal than the majority and usually get their screwed-up way just because they yell louder. I'm, by nature, very conservative but I don't always vote Republican. I try to follow the issues and make informed decisions but most of the time I don't watch T.V. on election night. I'll just see who won in the morning. (I do that with most sporting events, too. Sorry. We all have our interests.)

This year has been one of the longest of my life. I am SICK TO DEATH of political ads and campaigns and emails and signs. I was elated this morning just to be able to say "it's over". Unfortunately, the next presidential election will start sometime next February.

It just goes on tooooooooo long. I think we should pass a law in this country that says this:

If you want to run for public office you may not start campaigning until 3 months before the voting booths close.

You may not comment on anything any other political officer has done or said. Just tell us what you do and say. Tell us what you stand for.

If you cannot answer a question directly and honestly, you must shut up. Yes, or no, will do just fine.

If you take money for your campaign and you loose, you must give it all back. Okay, just kidding on that one. But, really, there should be a law that says if you raise more than 2 million dollars for your campaign you must give half of what you raise to a good cause.

I'm not going to say who I voted for. Frankly, it's no ones business. I didn't even tell Hubb. And he didn't tell me who he voted for either. I know both of us changed our minds more than once and both of us were unhappy with all the choices. I don't think the Founding Fathers ever had a two party system in mind, but here we are. It's a shame that a vote for any other party essentially equals a vote against the conservatives. It's a bigger shame that some people don't vote at all. I say if you don't vote you don't get to complain. Ever! This year, I think I may have voted just so I could keep my gritching rights. Sad.

I congratulate Senator McCain on a dignified loss. I thought his concession speech (the parts I heard on the news later) was great. I think Senator McCain is a good man. I don't agree with everything he has to say or his policies or choices. But I respect him and his desires for the country.

I congratulate Senator, and President Elect, Obama on a historic win. It is a remarkable thing to see a black man (well, half black, or less, really) be elected to the White House. I don't agree with all of his policies or choices, either. But I hope he will do good things for the country. I hope he will survive the assassination attempts! I hope his election will signal an end to racisim and discrimination in America. I hope from this point on that we will not have a need to discuss race at all. I hope we can really get down to the buisness of being equal. The pendulum can now start swinging back the other direction and stop in the middle. Let's just be people, shall we? Americans.

Now, for the first time in about a year, I am going to go to bed and not worry about who I will vote for. I'm glad that is over!

Love means never having to say you're sorry, and other crap

I've never seen the movie Love Story. My dad probably would have considered it high treason. He says that the all time worst movie line ever written came from that movie. Here it is:

Love means never having to say you're sorry.

I agree. That's total crap. In the real world, love means saying you're sorry at all times and in varied circumstances. You don't even have to be the one at fault. Sometimes saying "sorry" goes a long way to making the real perpetrator of jerkness start behaving like less of a jerk.

But that's not the real issue here. The real issue here is this. When someone has been behaving like a jerk and after two days of jerkdom suddenly says "I'm sorry I've been testy lately" and then goes on about their business as if nothing ever happened. No explanations. Is that supposed to make it all better?

Really?

Somehow I'm not feeling it. The all-betterness just ain't happenin' for me yet. I don't know when it will. The hurtful words just keep ringing through my head. I'm not trying to be mad. And I recognize a great deal of truth in what was said. I certainly can improve in the area mentioned. I'm pretty sure it wasn't meant to be as harsh as it sounded. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning.

Which brings me to another saying that I think is pretty much garbage. Never go to bed angry. Who wrote this? So, you just stay awake and keep fighting until everything is all better? Does anybody fight more rationally or get more patient and loving when they are tired? I don't think so. Sometimes it's better to sleep it off. Things always look better when you get further away from the crisis.

When Hubb and I got married we received some advice that I think is much better than "Never go to bed angry." It was "Never fight with your clothes on." That only applies to spouses, I hope. Don't try it with your teenagers. Can you imagine?

For now, I'm keeping my clothes on and going to bed. Well, I'll put my pajamas on and go to bed. I'll try to be less upset tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Bizarre Bazaar

I went to a bazaar today. Normally when I go to a bazaar (which isn't all that normal for me) I go to shop. Today I went to help my friend sell her stuff. Today, instead of looking at stuff I looked at people.

I love to watch people. First of all because it makes me (sometimes) feel better about myself. I am not a fabulously beautiful looker but at least I don't look like "frumpy sweatshirt lady". I don't mean for this to be an ugly post, though. When I people watch I don't really criticize, at least not all the time. Hey, I'm human, aren't I? Mostly I just observe. So as you read this, if anyone ever reads this, don't assume that I'm being rude about these people. They're just my observations.

First we had "cell phone couple". It took me a minute to realize they were together and even longer to realize they were running the booth next to mine. They both stood in the center of the aisle (people had to dodge them, of course) and talked on their cell phones. I'm assuming they weren't talking to each other. They did this for about 15 minutes! Just stood there. Talking on the phone. Then she hung up and fiddled around with stuff in her booth. Never did make it look any better. He kept up the cell phone conversations for a while longer. And he was wearing those weird looking shoes with the round springy thing on the heel. What is up with those? I don't care how "comfortable" they are. They look stupid!

Then we had "The Awesomest Grandma in America". No really, her sweatshirt said so. I don't know how awesome she really was but I think she was pretty good because she was kissing on a super cute baby.

"Doofy yakkity-yak guy" came by with his wife. This was a rather paunchy and aged man. He was wearing a button down shirt and courderoy trousers with a belt that went right around the fattest part of his middle. And he looked like he could have been a rocket scientist in some former life (not a cool one, the pocket protector type). He was talking away to his wife and she was not paying a lick of attention. I wondered if that was usually the case.

These two "tall, skinny, plain girls" came by. They could have been really stunning with a little effort. They were obviously sisters. I don't know if they just hadn't figured out what to do with their red hair or what. Maybe they were shy and didn't want to draw attention to themselves. It was too bad, really.

I heard the phrase "Mommy, can we go home now?" no less than 20 times. I don't think kids really like bazaars. I don't blame them. Some of the stuff is just bizarre! Here are my favorite products that I saw today. Mind you, some of these had actually been purchased!

A coffe filter tower. This had a cup and napkin on the top and then a huge stack of coffee filters and it all sat in a basket. No coffee with it.

A plate and tea cup on a stick. I think it was supposed to be stuck in a plant for decoration. To me it just looked like it was lost from the dog and pony show.

Stick stars. 5 Sticks, 5 nails. $8.00! I think I may sell those next year. That is some freaking awesome profit.

Gloves with dead rats hanging on them. Okay, they were fuzzy little muff things that had been added to the gloves. They came with matching dead rat scarves.

Shelaqued stumps. One had two pine cones on it and a candle, another had been made into a sconce. Seriously, people PAID for these!

I wish that I had had time to shop. I could have writen a book on the bizarreness of the day. It was fun, though. Every once in a while someone would sneak in with a stroller or a beverage and the bazaar people would chase them down. I hid a shake under my sweater while I entered. I figured if I was going to be there for a few hours the least they could do was let me have something to drink. It was yummy!