Sunday, November 27, 2011

Mean Girls

Newsflash: High school is over. They can't send you back. It's time to act like a grown-up.

Sorry about the lecture. It is mostly directed at myself. I know that I'm being immature when I use the word "grown-up". But I've been through a few things recently that reminded me to act my age, not my shoe size, maybe we should do the whirl...

Oops. Song from high school. Those probably aren't quite the lyrics, either. I was LITERALLY brought back to high school from hauling out an old yearbook. One of my co-workers graduated in my class, and she hadn't seen it years. She had kind of a rough time, got pregnant as a junior and felt shunned the rest of the time. So I brought it in for her to look at.

Of course, I previewed it first. Because apparently I was a mean girl! Most shocking to myself, I drew an "A" on the collar of a younger girl. You know, for "Adulteress". (I'm surprised Literal Teenage Liz didn't find a red pen to draw it....) It wasn't even anyone I remember, let alone remember being mean to me, which might have been forgivable.

But it's really not forgivable. I can respect that not everyone has to like each other. But I want to stop judging. Put down the red pen. I want to be able to say, Huh, that's interesting.

So, the preview showed that I was a jerk, but at least I hadn't marked up my co-worker's photo (unlike the Junior yearbook, where I had helpfully pointed out in blue Bic that the way the top of her hair poufed it made it her look like a Conehead. I actually remember feeling ashamed of that at the time, since I have known her since 5th grade). We pointed out some people that were mean to us (forgive!), we remembered some bad hair, we laughed, we cried, we rubbed bitter salt on ourselves, we got kind of evasive, and then I took the book back home where it should (must!) stay.

Saturday, November 12, 2011


This post has almost nothing to do with Maxim, the magazine. Except for this - as I was muddling around on Cande's phone last night, trying to find a picture of the belly dance costume I may want to purchase, Carol says glancing at the pictures, "Those look like something you shouldn't wear in public."

But my theory is, it's like being at the beach - everyone else is dressed inappropriately for any other situation, so we all just deal and drop the judgement, right? Except that since it's dance, there's an audience and performers, and since it's middle eastern dance, only the performers are dressed inappropriately and subject to judgement? I need to purchase my very first oriental belly dance costume for the Christmas hafla (wanna come? I can get you tickets! Let me know.). It's important that I feel and look happy. In public.

So, here's what I'm thinking of wearing in public:

I like the fringe, I like silver coins, I like that I can get different skirts for different looks. It also comes in comically over-sized boob sizes, which is VERY VERY important to me. 

For some reason, choice #2 does not want me to post a picture. I will try anyway. Let's just say, more expensive, more fringe, more color? I like color. It's not so stereotypically belly dancer-y. 

Maximizing is the corner of perfectionism that I live in. I tend to spend a lot of time picking things out, obsessing about exploring ALL of the options, and then repeatedly whacking myself upside the head if I feel even slightly dissatisfied with my final choice. I do realize that the modern marketplace is designed to make me dissatisfied with my choice, so I can get another one, or keep shopping anyway. I had read an article in Psychology Today on vacation about some strategies to STOP doing these things (pick the first acceptable choice and stop looking, just stick to reliable past choices for routine items, etc.) and I was so looking forward to being happy. 

But some choices are just too important to just pick the first option. Like this house, for example. It's been one of my greatest regrets that we didn't look harder. I shouldn't even second guess it. I own a house. It's perfectly serviceable and inexpensive. Roof. Floors. Yard. Nothing wrong with it at all. Except I always think I could have done better. But nope, we looked at only one house. And then we put in an offer in and everything just kind of came together after that. 

So, I'm going to sleep on this costume idea. One more night. One more dream. (I dreamed that I bought two costumes while staying in a strange hotel with community bathrooms. When I got back to my room, the 2nd costume was gone. And it was my favorite, I discovered when it was gone.) Your input is helpful too. (I realize I will look NOTHING like either one of these models.) I am going to maximize this shopping experience one more time, and not just because it's no small amount of money. Because it is pleasurable. 

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Do you know what happened after September 11?

September 12.

It's a story that I heard once about some friends that tried to drive to Canada from Michigan (which it's true, used to be no big deal) and then realized pretty much immediately that it wasn't as easy as it used to be. U-turn. The U.S. Customs gave them a really hard time about it when they tried to claim they didn't know they needed a passport to go to freakin' Canada. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AFTER SEPTEMBER 11???"  one of the customs officials demanded. They didn't have answer. My smart-alecky answer is above. Good thing I wasn't there, or I may have never returned to the U.S.

So, I last posted September 11. It's now November. Of course, a lot has happened. I went on a fabulous trip. Passed the annual aging mark. Did a lot of tough talking to Mr. Middle-Age Crisis. My dad got married. And I realized that I was getting all dull and dented in the process. So, I started the grateful list again. I can't remember what number we're on. I'll just start with 1, for November 1, to keep myself on track again.

11/1/11 - Belly dance class. Tribal. Love it. I'm still getting better. Twice a week, and I still would do more.
11/2/11 - I went for a run in the beautiful fall weather. I still got it.
11/3/11 - I had an excellent talk with Richard. He's melting down. But it's all good.
11/4/11 - Richard had a show hanging at the art hop, and an excellent turn out for the reception. It was like a wedding, in that everyone you loved that had always supported you was there. Very lovely.
11/5/11 -The fabulous fall weather continued, so we went for a bike ride. We use the same route frequently. I usually get kind of excited about the cows, but the llamas were out! Oh, how I want to hug their long necks.
11/6/11 - Yard work was done. Felt good to be outside and productive.
11/7/11 - I started a craft project. Although it is turning out quite awful, it will be good practice for the real one. (It's a belly dance belt.)
11/8/11 - Cried my eyes out last night, talking with Richard again. Yes, the breaking / melting requires lots of talking. I was just glad to note that I still have emotions, and I can access them. I'm alive!