So, when you're at an event, and the music is soooo loud that you can feel your spleen and pancreas moving to the beat, that's a bad thing, right?
We attended a wedding on Friday evening (very nice, actually, considering the whole "Hatfields and McCoys" vibe between the two families). The venue was typical event space with glittery chandeliers and such, and the food was adequate. However, the music was pounding, thanks to a very enthusiastic DJ who kept the decibels cranked up to internal-organ boogeying level.
The majority of the guests were in their teens, 20s, and 30s, so I get that, but a bit more Sinatra and the like could have slowed the pace down a bit and given everyone's eardrums and body time to adjust and relax a little while until the next assault.
God, just listen to me, I sound so friggin' old! I remember going to clubs and dancing to live bands that rocked the night away. Now, when I see all the bouncing up and down, I have sympathy headaches for everyone...yikes!
The bride and groom looked like they were rocking to a good time, and that is the important thing, right? There were no down and dirty drunken fights, and the weather cooperated to an extent, although it was fairly humid...thank God for air conditioning. We were home by 11 p.m., and that was just about right for me. My pancreas, lungs, and the like appreciated getting home to settle back into their usual spots inside my body, and my ear drum was able to beat to its own rhythm.
Best wishes to the bride and groom, and may they separate themselves from the influence of their respective families so they are able to forge their own path.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The 4 p.m. Dilemma
Okay...full disclosure...I actually watched the last three shows. There, I feel so much better. Oh, what last three shows? That would be "The Oprah Winfrey Show." Yup, since I'm pretty much on vacation now that I'm no longer in school (yippee and hello 3.6 final GPA!), I have free time, and I figured, what the heck.
I really had no serious intention of doing so, and nothing against Oprah at all, but things just worked out. Once I saw the first of the last three days, I was invested. And, I have to tell you, those two "surprise" shows with all the real people that Oprah had touched over the last 25 years and all the stars and such was really, well, touching. I actually had tears in my eyes for those two shows. The last show, meh. That one was the one where Oprah just kind of hung out with her audience in her studio -- as opposed to the Chicago CitiCenter -- and kind of talked about stuff. It was okay, and when that woman tears up, I cannot help responding in like, but nothing flashy. And that was just right, I'm thinking.
How many times have you accused someone of being "so Oprah" or using "Oprah-Babble" where they've turned into an instant therapist or wise sage when discussing this or that. Yeh...I've done it too. Reinvent, authentic you, and so many other terms that are probably connected to Oprah, are tossed around. If you have reinvented yourself, are you really your authentic you? Just wondering.
No matter how cynical you are, you have to acknowledge that Oprah has used her so-called power for good and never for evil. She has brought a lot of whispered evil doings out into the open and has given voice to the victims of those evil doers. Empowerment is a very important talisman against such evil, and if one person's life was truly and positively affected, it's got to be a good thing, right?
Well, I wish her well. Her young life was not easy, but she has triumphed and brought along a lot of people with her, and that has to count for something, right? Besides, having news at 4 p.m. is so way better than another soap opera or friggin' reality show where the pampered are wailing about their vacuous lives. Have a sweet new future, Oprah.
I really had no serious intention of doing so, and nothing against Oprah at all, but things just worked out. Once I saw the first of the last three days, I was invested. And, I have to tell you, those two "surprise" shows with all the real people that Oprah had touched over the last 25 years and all the stars and such was really, well, touching. I actually had tears in my eyes for those two shows. The last show, meh. That one was the one where Oprah just kind of hung out with her audience in her studio -- as opposed to the Chicago CitiCenter -- and kind of talked about stuff. It was okay, and when that woman tears up, I cannot help responding in like, but nothing flashy. And that was just right, I'm thinking.
How many times have you accused someone of being "so Oprah" or using "Oprah-Babble" where they've turned into an instant therapist or wise sage when discussing this or that. Yeh...I've done it too. Reinvent, authentic you, and so many other terms that are probably connected to Oprah, are tossed around. If you have reinvented yourself, are you really your authentic you? Just wondering.
No matter how cynical you are, you have to acknowledge that Oprah has used her so-called power for good and never for evil. She has brought a lot of whispered evil doings out into the open and has given voice to the victims of those evil doers. Empowerment is a very important talisman against such evil, and if one person's life was truly and positively affected, it's got to be a good thing, right?
Well, I wish her well. Her young life was not easy, but she has triumphed and brought along a lot of people with her, and that has to count for something, right? Besides, having news at 4 p.m. is so way better than another soap opera or friggin' reality show where the pampered are wailing about their vacuous lives. Have a sweet new future, Oprah.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
It's the End of the World As We Know It...or Not
So, another fundamentalist Christian crazy has gone down in hellacious fire and brimstone with regard to predicting the end of the world...for now. I mean, we're still here, more or less.
How many years have we as a species been foreseeing such end-of-game scenarios...anyone, anyone? Soooooo...a very long time. Seems that it's only a matter of time and space that someone will just have to be right, right?
Or, maybe they've been right all along. After all, somewhere on this earth, someone's world ends every minute of every day. It doesn't have to be a globe-wide catastrophic killer asteroid or volcanoes or tsunamis or nuclear holocaust that ends the world for someone. It could be the death of a loved one or a dream that would suffice to be counted as an end-of-the-world event. Who are we to judge, right?
What gets me about these soothsayers of doom is how easily people tend to follow them into the depths of beliefs. Are we that desperate? When the world ends, I'm thinking that we will not have much of a heads up on it, and we will not have much chance of surviving.
The hereafter is something that none of us really have any experience with, and that may be purposeful on the part of whoever (or whatever) is handling the joystick of the universe. Personally, I'm not a big believer of the either/or of heaven/hell. This is not based on any sudden insight or epiphany on my part, it's just that I have a feeling that we're much too complex a bunch -- and that includes the animals.
Anyway, for anyone who has felt their world has ended, I am truly sorry for that, and I wish you well. Don't give up on yourself or others. Take a breath in and slowly release it thinking of all the other people and places and things that make you smile.
How many years have we as a species been foreseeing such end-of-game scenarios...anyone, anyone? Soooooo...a very long time. Seems that it's only a matter of time and space that someone will just have to be right, right?
Or, maybe they've been right all along. After all, somewhere on this earth, someone's world ends every minute of every day. It doesn't have to be a globe-wide catastrophic killer asteroid or volcanoes or tsunamis or nuclear holocaust that ends the world for someone. It could be the death of a loved one or a dream that would suffice to be counted as an end-of-the-world event. Who are we to judge, right?
What gets me about these soothsayers of doom is how easily people tend to follow them into the depths of beliefs. Are we that desperate? When the world ends, I'm thinking that we will not have much of a heads up on it, and we will not have much chance of surviving.
The hereafter is something that none of us really have any experience with, and that may be purposeful on the part of whoever (or whatever) is handling the joystick of the universe. Personally, I'm not a big believer of the either/or of heaven/hell. This is not based on any sudden insight or epiphany on my part, it's just that I have a feeling that we're much too complex a bunch -- and that includes the animals.
Anyway, for anyone who has felt their world has ended, I am truly sorry for that, and I wish you well. Don't give up on yourself or others. Take a breath in and slowly release it thinking of all the other people and places and things that make you smile.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Of Bathrooms and Men...
So, we're having our old, 60-year-old bathroom redone, and let me tell you, it is not a pretty sight. This is the original bathroom in the house, so it has been the scene of countless baths, showers, and well...you get the picture.
This was not a nice bathroom to begin with anyway. It was the typical 1950s long and narrow bathroom, with the basket weave tiles on the floor and the larger tiles on the wall and in the bathtub/shower area. That wouldn't have been too bad, but the tiles were black and white -- with the black tiles on the wall. Why? Now, who thought putting black tiles on the wall was a good idea...really?
Anyway, two very large burlie guys came in and ripped out the sink, toilet, vanity, and wall tiles in what seemed to be a dust cloud of nanoseconds. Unbelievable! Did you know that if you don't plug up the pipe for the toilet that you get sewer gasses seeping into your house. It's a commode-to-abode attack of sorts. It's pretty ewwwwwwww. Let's just say what exits via a toilet should stay exited and never, ever return in any form.
In the meantime, the two cats (both boys) are totally freaking out. We have them sequestered in the living room, and thank goodness for pocket doors. They haven't even come out to use their own version of a toilet yet today, and it's already close to noon. The younger, more curious one has slithered around the LR a bit, but as soon as the guys returned from one of their jaunts to get the wood for the subfloor, he has found another hiding place. He wasn't around when the older male and our two (now deceased...a moment please) females had to endure the kitchen renovation. Of course, the younger of the females had to plant herself with the contractors...even as they were using the pressurized nail gun. She had no fear, and sat next to them, purring away. She was definitely a people cat, and would hang out on the open garage door while they were going back and forth in and out of the house. She was an inside cat who longed for the freedom of the outside as long as there was someone there to scratch her head and speak sweet nothings to her, and the contractors accommodated because they got a kick out of her.
Anyway, we are three grownups using one bathroom...I'm already tired of the arrangement, and it's only day two of what might turn out to be a two-week...possibly three-week deal. Ugh!
I am totally not complaining, because the new bathroom will rock upon its completion, and I am grateful that we have the opportunity to do this. The hardest part for me was to be able to pick out tiles and the like. Anything more than five selections and my brain starts to overheat. My husband is so much better and more patient about these things than I am.
So, the new subfloor is going in today. They started that shortly after dropping their internal organs taking out the cast-iron tub that had to weigh in at about 300 pounds. Our new tiles are in and ready for pickup as is some of the other stuff. It's a work in progress, and I'm not making myself crazy because of the dust or dirt tracked into the house. It's all for a good cause, and I'm psyched to see the results of the hard work. If you're interested, I'll give occasional updates.
Later...
This was not a nice bathroom to begin with anyway. It was the typical 1950s long and narrow bathroom, with the basket weave tiles on the floor and the larger tiles on the wall and in the bathtub/shower area. That wouldn't have been too bad, but the tiles were black and white -- with the black tiles on the wall. Why? Now, who thought putting black tiles on the wall was a good idea...really?
Anyway, two very large burlie guys came in and ripped out the sink, toilet, vanity, and wall tiles in what seemed to be a dust cloud of nanoseconds. Unbelievable! Did you know that if you don't plug up the pipe for the toilet that you get sewer gasses seeping into your house. It's a commode-to-abode attack of sorts. It's pretty ewwwwwwww. Let's just say what exits via a toilet should stay exited and never, ever return in any form.
In the meantime, the two cats (both boys) are totally freaking out. We have them sequestered in the living room, and thank goodness for pocket doors. They haven't even come out to use their own version of a toilet yet today, and it's already close to noon. The younger, more curious one has slithered around the LR a bit, but as soon as the guys returned from one of their jaunts to get the wood for the subfloor, he has found another hiding place. He wasn't around when the older male and our two (now deceased...a moment please) females had to endure the kitchen renovation. Of course, the younger of the females had to plant herself with the contractors...even as they were using the pressurized nail gun. She had no fear, and sat next to them, purring away. She was definitely a people cat, and would hang out on the open garage door while they were going back and forth in and out of the house. She was an inside cat who longed for the freedom of the outside as long as there was someone there to scratch her head and speak sweet nothings to her, and the contractors accommodated because they got a kick out of her.
Anyway, we are three grownups using one bathroom...I'm already tired of the arrangement, and it's only day two of what might turn out to be a two-week...possibly three-week deal. Ugh!
I am totally not complaining, because the new bathroom will rock upon its completion, and I am grateful that we have the opportunity to do this. The hardest part for me was to be able to pick out tiles and the like. Anything more than five selections and my brain starts to overheat. My husband is so much better and more patient about these things than I am.
So, the new subfloor is going in today. They started that shortly after dropping their internal organs taking out the cast-iron tub that had to weigh in at about 300 pounds. Our new tiles are in and ready for pickup as is some of the other stuff. It's a work in progress, and I'm not making myself crazy because of the dust or dirt tracked into the house. It's all for a good cause, and I'm psyched to see the results of the hard work. If you're interested, I'll give occasional updates.
Later...
Friday, May 13, 2011
Dun, Dun, Done!!!
After months of wailing and such, I am done with school! Can I get a hooray?!
I had my Italian final on Tuesday, and I know I did pretty well on two sections, but am not sure of the other ones, although my Italian professor (love this little girl) told me she glanced at my paragraph, and thought it was good. I'm just hoping it was my paragraph she had read and not someone else's.
I met with my writing workshop professor yesterday, and he assured me that the lowest grade I would get would be a B+ and maybe I could knock it up to an A- -- all dependent on the final writing project I handed in yesterday.
Now, my wailing will related to my continuing job search. Keep your fingers and toes crossed -- I have an interview on Monday morning. I really, really, really need to get back into the land of the employed for so many reasons, especially for benefits coverage.
Anyway, will update when I get my final grades and college diploma!!!
I had my Italian final on Tuesday, and I know I did pretty well on two sections, but am not sure of the other ones, although my Italian professor (love this little girl) told me she glanced at my paragraph, and thought it was good. I'm just hoping it was my paragraph she had read and not someone else's.
I met with my writing workshop professor yesterday, and he assured me that the lowest grade I would get would be a B+ and maybe I could knock it up to an A- -- all dependent on the final writing project I handed in yesterday.
Now, my wailing will related to my continuing job search. Keep your fingers and toes crossed -- I have an interview on Monday morning. I really, really, really need to get back into the land of the employed for so many reasons, especially for benefits coverage.
Anyway, will update when I get my final grades and college diploma!!!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Finals Week...Finally!
So after months of wailing, we've come down to "finals week" (dun, dun, dunnnnn). Let me tell you, I am giddy to be here, but not so giddy thinking about my Italian final that is looming like a big giant juicy meatball...ready to fall and crush me.
I am so trying not to panic about this, but I am. I woke up at 2:30 a.m. yesterday morning and could not get back to sleep until 6 a.m. partly because of the iced tea I had during my classes on Thursday afternoon, but MOSTLY because I kept thinking about writing a paragraph cold as part of my Italian final. Dio mio!
I have my final project for my writing workshop which has gone from a short story to an epic novel because of the revisions and a prequel aspect that I've added. See...I can write my Italian-American off...as long as it's in English...puhleeze don't have me write in Italian about an unknown subject. Aaauuuggghhhh.
I'm trying to not think of the impact on my 3.7 GPA that Italian will have. Oh, and speaking of that, I stopped by to speak to my adviser from the accelerated degree program I had completed three years ago (but still needed 21 credits to get my diploma, and don't start with me), and she told me I could have taken Italian with a Pass/Fail option that would not have affected my GPA at all. Sonofabitch!!! That's right...I said that. I was never ever told that by the advisor I went to to enroll, and why didn't this other chick tell me, huh? She didn't think I ever contacted her, but the anal, cover-my-ass personality knew better, and I found the email I had sent both of them back in December. Aha!
Listen, I absolutely love this little advisor chicklet, but holy piss, that would have taken so much of the agita out of these last few months for me...hello!!! Oh well, too late. I still adore my Italian professor and have enjoyed her class. And, I have really enjoyed the writing workshop class. It is so amazing how talented the 18-22 year old students are and how much they like to drop F-bombs and write about sex and drugs and rock and roll. I'm thinking they felt safe enough in this course to be able to just let it go and write about things that they know or think they know. Some of them overdid it, but on the whole, I totally enjoyed the short stories, and the professor is extremely funny and very decent.
So, next we meet, I will relieved to be over exams and perhaps even have seen the hit my GPA has taken in the neck for my inability to master the mother tongue. Ciao, Ciao!
I am so trying not to panic about this, but I am. I woke up at 2:30 a.m. yesterday morning and could not get back to sleep until 6 a.m. partly because of the iced tea I had during my classes on Thursday afternoon, but MOSTLY because I kept thinking about writing a paragraph cold as part of my Italian final. Dio mio!
I have my final project for my writing workshop which has gone from a short story to an epic novel because of the revisions and a prequel aspect that I've added. See...I can write my Italian-American off...as long as it's in English...puhleeze don't have me write in Italian about an unknown subject. Aaauuuggghhhh.
I'm trying to not think of the impact on my 3.7 GPA that Italian will have. Oh, and speaking of that, I stopped by to speak to my adviser from the accelerated degree program I had completed three years ago (but still needed 21 credits to get my diploma, and don't start with me), and she told me I could have taken Italian with a Pass/Fail option that would not have affected my GPA at all. Sonofabitch!!! That's right...I said that. I was never ever told that by the advisor I went to to enroll, and why didn't this other chick tell me, huh? She didn't think I ever contacted her, but the anal, cover-my-ass personality knew better, and I found the email I had sent both of them back in December. Aha!
Listen, I absolutely love this little advisor chicklet, but holy piss, that would have taken so much of the agita out of these last few months for me...hello!!! Oh well, too late. I still adore my Italian professor and have enjoyed her class. And, I have really enjoyed the writing workshop class. It is so amazing how talented the 18-22 year old students are and how much they like to drop F-bombs and write about sex and drugs and rock and roll. I'm thinking they felt safe enough in this course to be able to just let it go and write about things that they know or think they know. Some of them overdid it, but on the whole, I totally enjoyed the short stories, and the professor is extremely funny and very decent.
So, next we meet, I will relieved to be over exams and perhaps even have seen the hit my GPA has taken in the neck for my inability to master the mother tongue. Ciao, Ciao!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Wedding Showers on My Parade
Ok, be honest out there...who really, really likes going to wedding showers and playing those silly games. I thought so. I'm not sure when I started disliking wedding showers, but it must have been sometime after the 50th one I had to attend or help organize, I'm guessing.
The prospective bride -- usually already set up in an apartment with or without her intended -- registers at a number of stores (Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the like) for all the things she and her beloved will need as they start their adventure together as lawfully wedded wife and husband. You know, the critical stuff, like measuring spoons and rubbery thingies to help open up stubborn jars...stuff like that. And, even though the stores have electronic registries that are designed to avoid duplication of gifts, you know there will be five George Forman grills that came out of the same Macy's or Target...trust me.
Most of the time, there are no men at showers because it's all women and who wants to hear hundreds of "ooohs" and "aaahhhhs" about dish towels and shower hooks if you don't have to, right? I just attended one where the intended groom sat up by the gifts and helped display them, including the lingerie -- holding up the g-string, thong-like panties -- a picture I wish I can undo in my brain.
Anyway, maybe I'm not into them because I really never had one myself...I dunno. I only know that I don't know how the bride and groom met, where they met, her favorite song, her eye color, and what she loves about her intended...and frankly, Scarlett, well you get the picture.
I do wish the couple well and hope that they make it on their own without the distractions of family and the like who sometimes have a tendency to push their own agendas. Be true, happy, make each other laugh more than cry, stand by each other and never publicly put each other down, and remember that there is no such thing as a 50-50 marriage because, depending on what's going on, you each take more than the other at times...that is what is called Life.
The prospective bride -- usually already set up in an apartment with or without her intended -- registers at a number of stores (Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the like) for all the things she and her beloved will need as they start their adventure together as lawfully wedded wife and husband. You know, the critical stuff, like measuring spoons and rubbery thingies to help open up stubborn jars...stuff like that. And, even though the stores have electronic registries that are designed to avoid duplication of gifts, you know there will be five George Forman grills that came out of the same Macy's or Target...trust me.
Most of the time, there are no men at showers because it's all women and who wants to hear hundreds of "ooohs" and "aaahhhhs" about dish towels and shower hooks if you don't have to, right? I just attended one where the intended groom sat up by the gifts and helped display them, including the lingerie -- holding up the g-string, thong-like panties -- a picture I wish I can undo in my brain.
Anyway, maybe I'm not into them because I really never had one myself...I dunno. I only know that I don't know how the bride and groom met, where they met, her favorite song, her eye color, and what she loves about her intended...and frankly, Scarlett, well you get the picture.
I do wish the couple well and hope that they make it on their own without the distractions of family and the like who sometimes have a tendency to push their own agendas. Be true, happy, make each other laugh more than cry, stand by each other and never publicly put each other down, and remember that there is no such thing as a 50-50 marriage because, depending on what's going on, you each take more than the other at times...that is what is called Life.
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