Sunday Stealing: The Sunset Meme
Cheers to all of us thieves!
1. What is your favorite Mexican dish? Quesadilla, preferably cut into little points.
2. When you were a kid, did you get started on your homework right away after school, or did you procrastinate? Procrastinated. To this day I hate the stopwatch graphic at the beginning of 60 Minutes because to me, it meant I had 60 minutes until I had to revisit the homework I'd been putting off all weekend.
3. What is your favorite store for home furnishings? Crate and Barrel on Michigan Avenue in Chicago.
4. When you were young, did you like school lunches? Inarguably the best part of the day back then.
5. Is religion a crutch? No.
6. In your region, what is the “big” high school sport? Basketball.
7. Do you consider yourself rich? Hell, no.
8. Which of these would you have the best chance administering:
A) CPR
B) Heimlich Maneuver
C) Changing a flat tire
D) Dialing 911.
9. Which dance would you prefer to learn & why:
A) Salsa
B) Hip Hop
C) Waltz
D) Swing. Because it looks so neat.
10. What’s the worst news you’ve ever delivered to someone? "We have to let you go."
11. Name something you learned in college that had nothing to do with classes or academics. Um ... can't think of anything. My foray into higher learning was very short -- less than a year at community college.
12. New variation on an old question: If there’s a song in your head that just won’t get out, what is your favorite (or most repeated) line in that song? "Though there's pain in my chest, I still wish you the best, with a forget you ..." Placed in my head by this link at Kwizgiver's.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Requesting permission to vent
Last March, after I cleaned out my closets for the Carson's Goodwill Sale, I was sure to set aside one of the terrific coupons for my oldest friend's birthday and or Christmas gift. I was worried about losing my job then, and I didn't want her to suffer if I got the axe. I bought her favorite, Vera Wang body lotion, for about $40, even with the coupon. I tucked into my closet, keeping it dry and dark to preserve the scent, and then brought it with me in December when I went to visit her to celebrate her birthday. It was the designated Christmas gift. She wouldn't open it, saying my Christmas present hadn't arrived yet. She wanted us to unwrap them together, over the phone, when mine was finally ready.
I was pissed. Christmas is on everyone's calendar. Plus she had blown off my birthday. She emailed me from her new home in Beverly Hills, like 2 days before, saying, "What do you want to do about your birthday? Shall we celebrate it out here when you come?" No. I want to insist that you FedEx overnight my present. Clearly she had forgotten my birthday, and now, weeks later, she had put Christmas off until the last moment.
And of course, with my oldest friend, none of this is her fault. My parents had the bad taste to have me during the same month of her cross-country move 53 years in the future. It's their fault. And it's the fault of the company she ordered my Christmas gift from. Not hers. It's never her fault.
OK. Whatever. I left the Christmas gift on her piano and headed back to Chicago.
Her move to California was turning out to be a disaster, and I tried to be as supportive as I could be. I posted photos of my trip - - including one of her Beverly Hills street sign -- on Facebook and let her know how to access them. Then, because I knew Christmas with her oldest, troubled son would likely be a stressful disappointment, I made a Jib-Jab Christmas Card for her -- starring her and I. It's not an opus, I'm not giving Martin Scorcese a run for his money, but I put work into it.
Here we are in mid-February. I hear from her all the time and know all about the problems with her health, her clinically-depressed 20-something son, her hyper-active and troubled freshman daughter, and now her job -- the one she moved out to Los Angeles for. She finds relief in her free time by farting around on Facebook, bonding with unmet "friends" who enjoy her passion for Ghost Adventures on the Travel Channel.
Yet she hasn't found the time or the interest to click on the Jib-Jab card I made or to even glance at the Facebook photos I posted. Nor to send me my Christmas gift. As far as I know, she's lost the body lotion I gave her -- that Christmas gift I put so much care into choosing, wrapping, and delivering.
I am hurt and I am angry. And I am running out of patience. For while I'm the hurt and angry one, I know my oldest friend sees herself as the victim in this. Sometimes we have to take responsibility for our own actions, and the pain they cause others. Hearts as loyal as mine should be too precious for friends to injure.
I was pissed. Christmas is on everyone's calendar. Plus she had blown off my birthday. She emailed me from her new home in Beverly Hills, like 2 days before, saying, "What do you want to do about your birthday? Shall we celebrate it out here when you come?" No. I want to insist that you FedEx overnight my present. Clearly she had forgotten my birthday, and now, weeks later, she had put Christmas off until the last moment.
And of course, with my oldest friend, none of this is her fault. My parents had the bad taste to have me during the same month of her cross-country move 53 years in the future. It's their fault. And it's the fault of the company she ordered my Christmas gift from. Not hers. It's never her fault.
OK. Whatever. I left the Christmas gift on her piano and headed back to Chicago.
Her move to California was turning out to be a disaster, and I tried to be as supportive as I could be. I posted photos of my trip - - including one of her Beverly Hills street sign -- on Facebook and let her know how to access them. Then, because I knew Christmas with her oldest, troubled son would likely be a stressful disappointment, I made a Jib-Jab Christmas Card for her -- starring her and I. It's not an opus, I'm not giving Martin Scorcese a run for his money, but I put work into it.
Here we are in mid-February. I hear from her all the time and know all about the problems with her health, her clinically-depressed 20-something son, her hyper-active and troubled freshman daughter, and now her job -- the one she moved out to Los Angeles for. She finds relief in her free time by farting around on Facebook, bonding with unmet "friends" who enjoy her passion for Ghost Adventures on the Travel Channel.
Yet she hasn't found the time or the interest to click on the Jib-Jab card I made or to even glance at the Facebook photos I posted. Nor to send me my Christmas gift. As far as I know, she's lost the body lotion I gave her -- that Christmas gift I put so much care into choosing, wrapping, and delivering.
I am hurt and I am angry. And I am running out of patience. For while I'm the hurt and angry one, I know my oldest friend sees herself as the victim in this. Sometimes we have to take responsibility for our own actions, and the pain they cause others. Hearts as loyal as mine should be too precious for friends to injure.
Saturday 9
Saturday 9: I Saw It on TV
1. What new TV show rocks your world this year? Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. It's not a new show, but it's new to me and I'm hypnotized and stunned. It leaves me happy to be a pudgy, middle aged, Chicago spinster.
2. What is your least favorite ethnic food, and what makes it your least favorite? Anything with hot sauce. Because I don't like hot sauce.
3. When does liking someone a lot become loving that person? When he's the last one I think of at night and the first one I think of in the morning.
4. Is there a job you would do for free, and is it your current job? Yes, I'd care for cats in a shelter. And no, it's not my current job.
5. What is one person/thing that inspired you to take action of some sort? Senator John Kerry's 2004 Presidential run inspired me to devote a year to letter writing and phone calling. He stood for an appropriate and responsible handling of the war on terror, an end to the war in Iraq, international cooperation, protecting a woman's right to choose ... I still believe we got it right and 50.7% of America got it wrong.
6. Though you might not believe in it, would you like fate to exist? I do believe in it. I reject random.
7. Tell us about a news story that truly shocked you. The case of Yummy Sandifer. He was an 11-year-old Chicago boy who loved riding his bike, knew all about big cars like Lincolns and Cadillacs, and had a soft spot for animals. Oh yeah, and he shot and killed a little girl he barely knew to please his gang. They turned on him and he was found dead in a graffiti-filled underpass.
8. What's something you're looking forward to? Getting my hair cut.
9. What characteristics do you despise? Bullies. Pick on somebody your own size, why don't you?
1. What new TV show rocks your world this year? Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. It's not a new show, but it's new to me and I'm hypnotized and stunned. It leaves me happy to be a pudgy, middle aged, Chicago spinster.
2. What is your least favorite ethnic food, and what makes it your least favorite? Anything with hot sauce. Because I don't like hot sauce.
3. When does liking someone a lot become loving that person? When he's the last one I think of at night and the first one I think of in the morning.
4. Is there a job you would do for free, and is it your current job? Yes, I'd care for cats in a shelter. And no, it's not my current job.
5. What is one person/thing that inspired you to take action of some sort? Senator John Kerry's 2004 Presidential run inspired me to devote a year to letter writing and phone calling. He stood for an appropriate and responsible handling of the war on terror, an end to the war in Iraq, international cooperation, protecting a woman's right to choose ... I still believe we got it right and 50.7% of America got it wrong.
6. Though you might not believe in it, would you like fate to exist? I do believe in it. I reject random.
7. Tell us about a news story that truly shocked you. The case of Yummy Sandifer. He was an 11-year-old Chicago boy who loved riding his bike, knew all about big cars like Lincolns and Cadillacs, and had a soft spot for animals. Oh yeah, and he shot and killed a little girl he barely knew to please his gang. They turned on him and he was found dead in a graffiti-filled underpass.
8. What's something you're looking forward to? Getting my hair cut.
9. What characteristics do you despise? Bullies. Pick on somebody your own size, why don't you?
Pride Comes Before the Fall
So much for my last post.
Saw another play last night with Barb. Because of the late hour, I took the Metra train home instead of the trusty old el. They only run hourly at that time of night, so when I entered the station with only two minutes till departure, I knew I had to run for it.
Up the escalator, across the station and down the platform.
I made it, barely. And it took its toll. In the words of The Killer, "You leave me ... breathless-uh."
Saw another play last night with Barb. Because of the late hour, I took the Metra train home instead of the trusty old el. They only run hourly at that time of night, so when I entered the station with only two minutes till departure, I knew I had to run for it.
Up the escalator, across the station and down the platform.
I made it, barely. And it took its toll. In the words of The Killer, "You leave me ... breathless-uh."