You Could Be On Fire

You can make us go, but you can't make us care

2011-03-10T12:45:00.000-08:00

In a few weeks we'll be visiting casual acquaintances who had a baby a few months ago. I describe them as such because I reserve the term friend for someone I rely on, and I wouldn't ask these people for a nickle. We tried to get something going a few weeks ago, but severe illness overtook our household so we had to cancel. Spouse was truly uninterested in rescheduling, although reluctantly agreed it was part of normal social protocol to go over and examine the baby, make a few remarks about "how cute" and get the hell out. Our current record is 55 minutes. We're looking to try and break that with this visit. The first step to doing that was to nix the idea of us coming for dinner. They offered take out because they're so busy with the new baby! We can eat takeout at home. I parried with the option of a mid-afternoon visit, clear that food should not be involved. They countered with a family party; we pushed it out two weeks. And so we're settled on a date, but I'm hopeful for a snowstorm. And I hate shoveling.

Enough!

2010-12-07T06:05:00.001-08:00

Last night, in a fit of irritation, I disabled my Facebook account. I had received yet another friend request from someone in my spouse's former social circle and hit my limit. Spouse has decided that the old circle of friends isn't putting forth the effort, so he won't either, and both of us agreed that the request was a fishing expedition. I immediately unfriended and blocked the four people from the group I had been friends with, and because my rage was unabated, disabled the account. (I had also seen "The Social Network" this weekend and now find the creator of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg, to be a horrifyingly obnoxious person.)

I have never loved Facebook. I mostly joined it to keep up on the latest news with people, but quickly discovered that keeping up with people meant reading boring streams of consciousness from about a dozen or so regular posters (out of more than 200+ "friends" I have on the site) who complained about one or more of the following: their jobs, spouses, children, what they ate (or didn't eat) why they hated people, and the government. Everyone else was basically silent. I also found that social networking sites keep us further away from one another by subsituting electronic interaction for real communication. People aren't telling the truth about their lives online. And if they are, they're usually complaining. (Get a blog! Even if no one reads it!)

I don't think I'll stay away forever, but I think I'm going to take the rest of December off at a minimum. It will cover my electronic tracks, and make things easier to complete the severing with the other social group. Facebook is like a soap opera, in my mind - you can walk away for days and weeks and come back to find that nothing much has changed.

My Imaginary Friend

2010-11-16T13:20:00.000-08:00

A couple of years ago, I met this really cool, really fun woman (lets call her Gretchen) through the wife of one of my spouse's friends at a party. She and I just clicked - similar sense of humor, outlook on life, the works. Gretchen was smart, and funny, and cool and we became buddies really fast. I say buddies, because I never fully trusted her - although I invited her to parties, saw her monthly for brunch or lunch or dinner, and emailed with her several times a week, I never forgot that she was friends with my spouse's friend's wife. The wife is a woman who is always delightful to your face, and stabby behind your back. I avoid her at all costs, because the negative energy and gossipy countenance are just too much to take. So while I enjoyed hanging out with Gretchen, offering advice or commiseration on her love life, making jokes about public figures or everyday things we were experiencing, I never confided in her, worked very hard never to say anything to her about anyone else that I wouldn't say to their face, and never forgot who else she was friends with every time we interacted.

And then one day she was gone. She had moved across the country for a job transfer, so at first it was a physical disappearance, and then she met someone and the relationship worked, so she was busy with that. One day, the emails stopped. I made several attempts to re-initiate contact, but got the sense she was looking for dirt and gossip on behalf of the other woman, and when nothing was forthcoming, silence reigned again. Strangely, I was more relieved than saddened by this - a friendship isn't worth the time you have to put into it to make it work if you don't have trust as a foundation.

One thing I did save were our back-and-forth emails. They read like something out of a sitcom - witty, sharp, full of jokes - it's me (and probably Gretchen) at my very best. They remind me that it's possible to have a superficial friendship that bears fruit - writing inspiration, and a good laugh, months and years after the original jokes were made.

Gretchen, best wishes to you wherever you are - it was lovely to make your acquaintance....

You're Not My Friend...Not Really

2010-06-11T07:30:00.000-07:00

So today I had a dust-up with a guy I would describe as a "friendly acquaintance." You see, unlike many people, I tend to view the vast majority of the people in my orbit as acquaintances, not friends. I feel no deep urge to confide in them. I ask politely after their lives & families, remember key details like birthdays and anniversaries (and send cards or an email to mark the event) and listen intently while they tell me what's going on. The majority of people I know are going about their business, creating their own little dramas that they play out endlessly in their heads and spill to their "friends." I'm a good listener, especially to those in actual crisis (by my definition: job loss, bankruptcy, health issues, divorce) and I am always happy to lend an ear. The rest of the chattering classes also get my attention when I can spare it, and I listen to their concerns and "crisis" with an attentive ear. But do I truly care?

In a word? No.

And that's a dirty little secret of "friendship" - very few people are actually your friends. You might call them your "friend" but if you wouldn't tell them your darkest secret, ask for their help, be willing to do them a favor no matter how high the personal cost to you, loan them money you will never see again, or trust them with some small bit of information, they are not your friend.

The guy I had the dust up with this morning wanted me to be more chummy and solicitous in my email to him; I was just trying to get some information and get on with my day. I apologized but also heaped a large quantity of guilt on him, which made me feel better. Who's sorry now, sucker?

Random Irritations

2010-05-26T11:14:00.001-07:00

Yes, it's over 90 degrees outside and it's only May. Yes, it's hot. Yes, it's statistically not normal. Yes, you hate the heat. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, COULD WE PLEASE DISCUSS SOMETHING ELSE??

Dear Boss, I know that fishing through your emails to find the one sent by the accountant asking for authorization to run payroll is a pain, but I only show up because of the paycheck and health insurance. One of those things stops appearing and so will I!

How is it that reality t.v. season enders have now become hyped on par with the Superbowl? How is reality t.v. even something anyone wants to admit watching?

Don't think I didn't notice that you left a couple of people that are considered part of the group off your email invitation. I'm glad those excluded people have other friends, because you're a jerk.

No, I really don't want to talk about what I think the finale of LOST really means. It's the end of the show. I don't know if they died in the beginning, at the end or somewhere in the middle. I'm kinda sad nobody got eaten by the polar bear. I do want to talk about Jorge Garcia's blog, dispatchesfromtheisland.blogspot.com. He grows plants, takes funny pictures, bakes bread, writes about his dog and his blog generally rocks. How soon until he's back on t.v.?

Dear other boss, please stop messing with the thermostat. It should not be cold enough in here to freeze meat, and every time you move the dial, the other guy comes out of his office and jacks the thermostat up to 90 because he's cold. I think we can all agree that 70 is not an unreasonable temperature. Please do not make me break all your fingers to keep you from fiddling with the thermostat.

Oh hey family! When I mention how cute my friend J's new baby G is, stop saying, "Don't you want one? You know you do!" I think G is sweet. I don't mind holding her, and I try to keep her happy and amused. She is very cute and cuddly. However. There is a BIG difference between liking children and wanting one. I like children. I HATE sanctimonious one-upsmanship martyr mommies, endless talk ONLY about children, and people who nag me to have a baby.

Maybe it's the heat. No, I'm always cranky.

Not a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

2010-03-31T13:07:00.000-07:00

Spouse and I have recently learned that two families on our street are divorcing. One is an older couple with grown/nearly grown children, a second marriage for both; the other is a young-ish couple (around our age) with a five-year-old daughter. Today I received an email from a friend who informed me that one of her coworkers said my street has a higher-than-average divorce rate, and that I should think about moving. Really? I'm guessing, statistically speaking, that my street's divorce rate is no better or worse than society on the whole. And even if it was higher than average, so what? Every marriage is individual. I certainly wouldn't move due to that statistic. But I do think we have a better chance than most because we can work on our marriage and not be sucked into the merry-go-round that is being a parent. I feel bad for the little girl whose parents are getting divorced, though. What a terrible thing for a 5-year old.

Holiday Harmony

2009-11-20T10:35:00.000-08:00

The holiday season is rapidly bearing down upon us, meaning a new round of parties, social obligations and gift-giving will soon commence. This year, though, I have a lot to be thankful for. I have my health (mostly) a good job with good benefits, a sweet spouse who also still has a job, minimal debt, and good friends. But what I will be most thankful for this year is that I do not have to attend spouse's college-buddy's holiday gathering.

This gathering has been held for years, dating back to right after graduation. For years it's been a child-free evening event, but in the last 3 years almost everyone has had a child, so now it's an afternoon "family-friendly" gathering. This year my spouse sat up and decided we weren't going - we have virtually nothing in common with these folks, the last few group gatherings have been awkward, and spouse doesn't particularly enjoy the noise generated by groups of children. So we're out! I've been hinting around at a nice dinner out, or perhaps a fancy dinner in, and spouse seems intrigued. We did decide that a little white lie was in order - saying that we weren't coming because we don't have a good time any more and that there would be hoardes of the small sticky people would probably have a bad effect. After all, we don't judge them for choosing to become parents, just as we wish they didn't judge/gossip/comment/remark about us not being parents.

And how do you nicely tell people they've become boring? You can't. You just dodge and avoid until they forget about you and get sucked back into their family lives. Despite the way we're treated by people because of our life choices, I was raised to always be polite and never to make people uncomfortable if I could help it. Although some days I would like to lay it all out on the line and tell them what I really think. Because isn't that what they do to us all the time?

Back to the Grind

2009-11-12T11:37:00.000-08:00

So spouse and I have returned from our two week trip to Europe. It was incredibly fabulous. Know what else was fabulous? Children in Europe are well behaved and not taken to inappropriate places. Dinner at 8? No sign of kids - it's adults only. Art museum? They're strapped into prams, hushed if they talk too loud. Perhaps some television producer could bring over a large group of French or Italian parents to teach Americans, um, how to parent. I'd watch that reality show.

One of my favorite blogs, Like It Is, has revived a discussion on what happens when one partner in a marriage tries to pressure the other to have children. In this case the discussion centers on "Josh" who's wife now desperately wants a baby even though Josh was honest from the beginning of their relationship that he was child free. Spouse occasionally makes comments about, "...if we have children." Sometimes I indulge him, sometimes I snort with derision and roll my eyes. I'm currently trying to get him to read, "Two is Enough," by Laura Scott, about childfree marriages. (Childfree is my favorite term for my status; I personally feel childless should be reserved for those without children who feel it as a loss, which I don't. I'm thrilled by the lack of children in my house.) Spouse is not really a reader, however. I have seen him pick it up a few times and then put it down. He won't read it, but then again as much as I love him, he's not motivated to move any major life agendas forward unless I take the lead, so the comments about, "....if we have kids...." will remain just that, comments.

And if he should suddenly get very motivated, I'm going to encourage him to spend WAAAY more time with his miserable buddies who have all seen their lives screech to a halt with the birth of their first children. And then take him out to do something fun, like skydiving.

Travel: The Luxury and the Freedom

2009-09-30T12:40:00.000-07:00

Spouse and I are headed out this weekend for a 2 week vacation in Europe. Nice, right? Tell that to the friend I spoke to last week. When I mentioned that I was going on vacation and she asked where, I told her and her response was, "You suck."

Excuse me?

I suck?

I don't think so. I'm a damned good friend to her. Better than any of the others, to hear her tell it. And yet, when presented with my news, all she can think to say is that I suck. For what?

Let's talk about all the ways I don't criticize her choices, how I listen patiently to her endless complaints about her family, her job and other friends.

Let's talk about how I've extended the offer many times to act as a childcare backup for her if she's in a jam, needs to go out at night for a meeting or event, or just wants a break.

Let's talk about how I was the ONLY PERSON available to go out for her birthday. Everyone else had endless problems with child care.

Let's talk about the fact that I made different choices - child-free choices - that allow me the freedom with both my time and money to travel to exotic places.

So no, I don't suck, but your attitude does.

No Patience

2009-05-05T11:56:00.000-07:00

The older I get the less I find that I have the patience for people who waste my time. Whether I'm at work, volunteering or just interacting with people in my social circle, if I feel you're wasting my time you quickly drop to the bottom of my list and then fall off it if you don't shape up. Case in point: friends with children. Somehow they think that an acceptable update is telling you their child is doing well with potty training, or talking about the latest round of fighting they've had with the school district over their kid's IEP or test scores or something. Dear parents: I don't care. 5 minutes is fine; 15 minutes is not and after 25, I am going to lose your number. The same goes for people I work with. Tell me what you need to tell me in 2 minutes or less, then let's get on with our day. If you can't sum it up quickly, think about it a little longer before you start talking so you can get to the point quickly. I am too busy to have my time wasted. If only this was a lesson you could teach people!

Total Insanity

2009-03-12T09:05:00.000-07:00

The first of the long suspected cancellations of guys' night has happened. I'm delighted because I get to spend more time with spouse, and we're going out to dinner. This week's email was from one of the guys - I'll call him Norm. Norm's wife has decreed that unless they are playing computer games (i.e. in the basement) guys' night cannot be held at their house. It was not said in such a way - that she had decreed this - we all know who is behind this. This is the same household where they have to enter the house through the basement and they are not allowed to order takeout while at the house. The reasons for this must have something to do with their two young, easily-disturbed-by-any-change-in-routine children. On nights when they get together at Norm's house, everyone has to eat before they come. Also, spouse comes home smelling funny - a combination of stale air and mustiness, which permeats from the basement and soaks into his hair, clothes and skin. I can only imagine the filth that must enevelop the house. And she's a stay-at-home mom! No time to vaccume the basement before you sentence the boys to an evening down there, or to get a dehumidifier or at least open the windows?

So while they're still hooked on video games (which waxes and wanes) they are banned from the house. We're anticipating the announcement of the second round of pregnancies soon, so I suspect this will all be a moot exercise in pretend freedom for the other guys in the next year to 18 months. Spouse will have all the free time he wants since we have a different life choice.

Social Deterioration

2009-03-04T07:54:00.001-08:00

Boy, I'm behind on this whole "regular blogging" thing - clearly I can't stick with any one thing for too long. Good thing I'm child-free - I'd be that person on the news who left the baby in the carrier on top of the car. (I've often wondered how much of that is "accidental.")

Spouse has been having some interesting interactions with the newly-childed (within the last year) of his social circle. Group get-togethers deteriorate into discussions about children. Spouse is highly unamused by this, given that he has nothing to contribute. He labeled his friends "pathetic" in a discussion a few weeks ago, following a particularly egregious discussion on sleep patterns and some aggressive baby-stalking from one friend's wife who was home and "playing with the baby" (aggressively inviting comment on said child by being ridiculously loud and cutesy in those interactions.) He's also decided that the newest kids just aren't cute. Unsurprising, given that nobody involved in reproduction is particularly noteworthy in the looks department, and genetics can be an unforgiving mistress. Spouse has decided that there are definitely weeks when he will be skipping, just because it's so awful. I support this; we have a great time together and don't really need anybody else. I'm sorry for him that things have deteriorated to this level, but I predicted it. I would expect that the regular gatherings would be completely over within 2 years from now.

Resolutions

2008-12-30T11:51:00.000-08:00

* I will NOT carry small bottles of wine in my new, slightly larger purse and drink them before spending time with my mother-in-law. Or spouse's friends. Or my mother.

*I will learn to drive a standard.

* I will not hope that my random investment choices are enough to get me through retirement. Hope is not a strategy, it is an Obama campaign slogan. I will learn to understand investing. I have to, my spouse is hopeless.

* I am finally finishing my fucking novel. It's been nearly 5 years.

* I will read "The Historian" by Elizabeth Kostova. I own it in both hardcover and paperback. There is no excuse. Ditto for the Bill Clinton autobiography. He grins at me from the hallway bookshelf every morning, and his wife's about to be our Secretary of State. I should really slog through that puppy, he's been out of office 8 years. (8 very looooong years.)

* I will learn to play chess.

*Australia or bust!

Excuse Me?

2008-12-20T12:20:00.000-08:00

Tis the season - holiday parties, Christmas cards with enclosed photos of munchkins, holiday letters updating us on "..all the things the family's done this year!" Yay. If someone cured cancer, I'd be impressed. Nobody has, though, so I continue to maintain a healthy level of distain for this whole "ho ho ho!" holiday process. Until this morning.

Every year my spouse's buddy has a Christmas party with a Yankee swap. This has been tedious in the past, to say the least, as I find the spouse's friends somewhat exclusionary and the wives downright backstabbing. This year, now that they've all had children, the party includes the children. Yay! Crappy food! Crappy diapers! Earnest discussions about breastfeeding and good preschools. What a waste of my Saturday afternoon. There is one bright side to this. We've bought a swap gift that we plan to choose when it's our turn, and then return to the store. It's the only bright spot in an otherwise dismal afternoon.

And don't even get me started about the office holiday party!

Guilty Pleasures

2008-11-20T06:58:00.000-08:00

Since my mid-20s, I've gotten the message from society that I must be a Serious Adult. In an effort to be seen as "grown up" and "mature," we often set aside and bury those things we enjoy most but might be scorned for admitting our interest in them. I do all the right things - volunteer, subscribe to "Newsweek", pay my mortgage, follow the stock market, speak very seriously about oil speculators, and mow my lawn. That said, I have a long list of guilty pleasures that I enjoy, and damnit, I'm not going to hide them anymore. (Well, except for the fact that this blog is anonymous and all.) In no particular order, these are:

*Romance novels - the trashier the better. Bodice rippers, thin plots, maurading Lords who fall for the masked woman at the country ball only to discover she's an orphaned governess, bring it on! Overwrought prose! Improbable settings! Desperate clenches on a darkened veranda! Like cotton candy to a diabetic, I am woozy with delight when I crack the spine of a new paperback brain candy book.

*truemomconfessions.com - 98% of these ladies hate their husbands & partners, can't get their kids to sleep or behave, don't have time for themselves, do everything for their families and are shunted aside, and long for a better life. I love reading their stories. I toast them every morning as I swallow my birth control pill in my quiet, tidy house before having a leisurely breakfast and a workout in my home gym. Suckers!

*coconut donuts - I would sell the spouse for the best ones, which are heavily coated with the frosting and shredded coconut and are moist and cake-like inside. Even when Dunkin' Donuts gives me a bad one, it's way better than anything else I'll eat all day.

*"Grey's Anatomy" - this show is like high school with medical terminology. The plot lines are absurd, Merideth Grey is a whiny, self-absorbed nut job who could benefit from intensive psychotherapy or perhaps electroshock therapy, and nobody seems to have any boundries. Nontheless, I watch. But the second someone is killed by a falling medical evac helicopter, I'm OUTTA here!

*The "Twilight" series by Stephanie Meyers. The young adult novel series about humane vampires in the Pacific northwest is total, utter crap. 17 year old human Bella falls in love with forever-17 vampire Edward and has a series of scrapes with the undead. Then her best friend becomes a werewolf. Then she marries her vampire at 18, because she knows he's the only one she'll ever love forever. And then she has a baby. And is changed to a vampire. And her baby is going to grow up to marry her werewolf best friend who "imprinted" on the baby at birth and will love her forever since he can't have Bella. I kid you not, this might be the most irritating series ever written. Yet I read every book. Seriously, if I fell in love with someone who might be tempted to bite my neck and kill me, I think I would move on, not insist that I "wasn't scared" and demand to be changed over, too. Also, Edward's a self-righteous prick in these books. But I'll be seeing the movie when it comes out!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to pretend I'm deeply engrossed in "Newsweek."

You're Kidding Me, Right?

2008-11-13T13:27:00.000-08:00

Tuesday night I went to a party with a friend I hadn't seen in a while. She's been pressuring me to get together, but because she brings her toddler everywhere, I tend to avoid her like the plague. An evening party (celebrating the election results of last week) that started past the munchkin's bedtime seemed like the perfect way to see her and dodge the ankle biter. At the party, we have the following conversation,

Her: "It's so nice to see everyone. I haven't been to anything like this in a long time. I had to beg (husband) to come out tonight."
Me: "Excuse me? What do you mean, you had to beg him?"
Her: "I had to beg him. Because I'm the mom, I do all the childcare work and (husband) helps out a little. Tonight was bath night, and he really wanted me home for that."
Me: "All he has to do is keep (ankle biter)'s head above water. Whether (ankle biter) is totally clean or not doesn't really matter. He can handle this - he's the father."
Her: "Still, he didn't want me to go. He said I've been out a lot lately."
Me: "Define 'a lot' for me."
Her: "Well, I went out two weeks ago and a week from Saturday I have a girls' night out. So it has been a lot."
Me: "Maybe by his standards."
Her: "Well, he really didn't want me to go."
Me: "See, you're a better person than I am. If I was told I couldn't go, I would agree and then say, 'Oh, I just need to get something in the car,' and while I was out there, I'd take off. You haven't been out a lot lately. And he needs to do his share. Have you tried telling him that?"
Her: "I could never do that. It would be rude."

Seriously, if my spouse behaved like this I would leave him. Also, I'm not a doormat so I can't quite see my spouse ever suggesting I stay close to home. It's not in my nature, and spouse expects me to be busy with my own things as I've had my own life that I've steadfastly maintained since we met.

Later in the evening she had an argument with me about how nice my mother was and how she couldn't possibly ever be evil or manipulative. Er, you've met my mother twice, I've lived with her my entire life, so I daresay that I know her better than you. When I explained the circumstances around my current distance from my mother (i.e. nobody needs to talk to their mother every day) she was shocked and insisted that we "...need to talk more! I didn't know any of this!" Of course not, you idiot, because I don't consider you a good friend and every time I see your husband I have to resist the urge to punch him.

I came home and told spouse who said, "Guess it's back to avoiding her calls and emails, huh? At least we won't have to go to dinner with them....EVER."

Indeed.

Not Really A Goody-Two-Shoes

2008-10-16T08:21:00.000-07:00

I do a lot of volunteering. The library, town boards, a non-profit, a food bank, political organizations. As a result, I'm out a lot. Most of these meetings tend to work my last nerve. After a 5 AM wakeup and workout, commute to the office, an 8 1/2 hour day and a commute home, my tolerance level for nonsense is low. I sometimes like to have a glass of wine, if there's time, before any meetings, because I've discovered it takes the edge off. That's how bad some of these groups have gotten - I need to drink before meetings.

So why continue to do it? I pondered on this last night during another endless meeting where the group became bogged down in minute details and talked in circles and I tuned them out. I do it because I don't want to be like everyone else in suburban hell- consumed with their own lives, they don't participate fully in the community, if they participate at all. The standard excuses are trotted out, "My job's so busy," "I have all these things with my kids," "I wish I could, but...." and I feel if I don't step up, no one will. Often I am the only person in my age cohort at these meetings or on these boards, and everyone's always so thrilled to see "such a young person" take an interest in the organization. Because evidently, you can't be a fully participating member of society if you have a family. I get it that kids are a lot of work. Which is why I don't want any. The trade-off for having children seems to be losing your own identity and fading into domestic drudgery to maintain the home fires. I find that appalling. What kind of example are you setting for your children? You make them believe that checking out for 18 to 22 years is an okay thing to do. Communities don't run like that, and those that do aren't a healthy place to live. So despite the aggravation some of my volunteer activities bring to me, I keep going. I don't want to be like everyone else, and I seem to have some sort of innate need to prove it to others.

I'll take that glass of wine now, and a side of self-congratulations for being not like everyone else.

Campaign Season - Wake Me When It's Over

2008-10-02T08:08:00.001-07:00

I am something of a political junkie. Since the 1988 Presidential race when I was 12 years old I have followed politics like a heroin addict looking for their next fix. In the Dukakis-Bush I race, I was the only one of my 12 classmates supporting Dukakis, and as a result spent the 6 weeks leading up to the election eating lunch alone in the cafeteria. The rest of the kids told me if I switched to supporting Bush they would let me eat with them again. I refused. You know how some people know they're gay from an early age? I've always known I was a Liberal.

I'm still following the race this year, but I'm feeling very meh about the whole thing. To begin with, I was a Hilary supporter, so there was a whole level of disappointment when she left the race. Secondly, I've lost faith in the intellegence of America. Certainly I can sort-of see the point of conservative pundits and voters who argue Obama doesn't have enough experience, although I believe he certainly has way more brains than the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. However, when you listen to McCain he doesn't talk about the middle class. The middle class is the backbone of the economy - well enough off for the last-minute splurges at the mall or a dinner out but not the high end consumer who trades exclusively in luxury goods. I don't think the next President is going to be able to pull us completely out of the economic tailspin that the current administration has managed to put us into, but I believe Obama's going to at least be thinking about the single mom working at WalMart and how all this affects her, even though she probably didn't donate to him and maybe didn't even vote for him.

In the last two election cycles, people have voted against their own economic self interest. Economically strapped Americans gravitated towards George W. Bush in droves and pulled the lever at the voting booth, leaving us in the incapable hands of a man who sat for seven minutes after being told that planes were hitting the World Trade Center and it wasn't an accident. He got us into a war without end thousands of miles away and committed troops but not the funds to properly protect them or provide for them when they returned home. When he took office, gas was $1.46 a gallon. Now people struggle to make ends meet and purchase only necessities. So much for the American dream.

I think this year might be the year that people stop thinking about who they'd like to have a beer with and start considering who might be able to pull us out of this tail spin faster. Still, I remain only marginally engaged due to a lack of attention or effort by so many people who have previously been gung-ho volunteers. My work is on the local level, trying to get a couple of good friends elected to the state legislature. Getting volunteers to help is like spotting Bigfoot - there might have been a flash of something standing over there a minute ago, or it could have been your imagination playing tricks on you. It's unclear whether it's the economy, exhaustion or too much excitement for the top of the ticket. At any rate, doing it all myself is wearing me out and making me apathetic.

Tonight is the Vice Presidential debate, which is being billed as the biggest thing since "Rumble in the Jungle" and every talking head is screaming about how high the stakes are for both sides. Yawn. I drank the Kool-Aid. I'm onboard the Audacity of Hope express. Palin on one level aggrivates me, because she is so ill-prepared and mediocre, and on another heartens me because we've finally moved into a phase where all women must not be massive overachievers to be thrust into a leadership role - we get to put forth mediocre candidates too! Equality of gender might finally be here, who knows. I do know I don't want to see her coiffed head on the steps of the Capitol in January, however.

So tonight my spouse and I may turn on the television for a few moments to see if Helmet Head and Joe are evenly matched or if she's going down like the Hindenburg. No matter what happens between now and November 4, however, I'll be voting for my economic self interest, not for the likability of the candidate. Lipstick on a pit bull indeed.

2008-09-17T13:25:00.000-07:00

I've always lived in the country. Not the suburbs, the country. The kind of places where there were no stoplights, decent grocery stores were at least 25 minutes away, and a trip to the movie theater was a planned expedition, not a last-minute whim. I grew up next door to a farm, learned how to ride horses, and we didn't get cable television until I was 17. My life was like something out of "Little House on the Prarie" minus the long skirts and Nelly Olson, although I did have my own childhood nemisis. I never thought my childhood was boring because I was always busy, and I always had books.

As an adult living in the same country atmosphere that I grew up in, I cannot help but think home ownership in the area was a mistake. Spouse and I are surrounded by families with children. The nearest decent grocery store is now only 10 minutes away, but so horribly expensive I shun it like I used to shun dates with Republicans. The drudgery of being a homeowner grates on me. The lawn never stops growing. The spouse is casual at best about keeping up with chores and putting things away in their proper place. I dream of a 3rd floor walkup one bedroom in the hippest neighborhood of the city, decorated with themed lights, old posters of politcial revolutionaries, and pictures from my travels.

I think my dissatisfaction comes from not being able to travel the way I want to. Spouse is reluctant to part with money that does not actually bring a concrete item or items in return ( a new t.v., furniture, etc.) and rare to warm up to my initial ideas and enthusaism. Usually I plow on ahead without full agreement, knowing that as the trip comes together so will Spouse's enthusiam. Still, the 9-5 grind and the expectation that I want the whole picket-fence life bugs me. I will probably always long to throw caution to the wind and abandon everything I know for the opportunity for adventure. After all, isn't that the American way?

Congratulations on your new arrival. Now please go away.

2008-09-08T12:31:00.000-07:00

My spouse and I are now of the age where all of our friends are multiplying like rabbits. This past spring we were invited to a boatload of baby showers, approximately 2 years after the weddings. This seems to be the thing - get married, spend a year doing whatever, then procreate. I fully support people having children - from a distance, they all look adorable, and you don't notice the smell. What I do not support, however, is this child-centric culture that has developed.

People bring their children everywhere. Gone are the days of hiring a sitter for an adults-night out. Its led my spouse and I to institute a policy of slowly disengaging from someone as soon as they announce their pregnancy. By the time the baby arrives, we've cut back on socializing with them to the extent that we can swoop in, meet the baby, and get out in an hour. We did this recently for the spouse's college buddy and his wife. We brought a present, each held the baby, made some small talk and pretended to be fascinated by the ins-and-outs of the hospital stay and all the new things they've learned, then fled for a matinee showing of "The Dark Night." They were so busy making cow eyes at their new precious arrival they didn't notice that I got us out of there in 65 minutes, a new record even for me.

I don't give any hint that children aren't my thing. People are smart enough not to ask me if spouse and I have plans for children, as I have been known to shout, "What a terribly personal question! Do you know you asked that out loud? You must be so embarassed!" and I'm pretty sure by now most people in our various circles have been nearby when I've bellowed it at some stupid fool who thinks it's perfectly acceptable to ask those kinds of questions. I am the charming aunt to my cousins' children, bringing gifts for the kids when we travel to various exotic locations. I visit the new babies (but usually skip the showers- I cannot STAND baby showers) and bring a gift, I compliment the mothers on how good they look. (Even if they still look pregnant, 6 months post-partum.) I can usually deal with kids for a few hours unless there's screaming. When there's screaming, I develop a "migraine" and we have to leave.

Secretly my spouse and I have a "No children under 12" policy for the house, unless 1) they are related to us; 2) we can confine the children mostly to the sunroom or deck, which means we don't do any winter socializing with friends because people get very annoyed when their children turn blue and you refuse to let them in the house. Even these exceptions grate on us, particularly in light of our recent remodeling, new paint and furniture. There's always a chance some crotch fruit might forget about the "house rules" (inside voices and inside feet; messy projects and eating are done at the kitchen table; no shoes) and spill some god-awful drink box on my carpet, or walk across my couch.

What fascinates me is the way people don't get it. My phone rings all the time with "long-lost" (read: pushed out) friends who are clamoring to get together with us for dinner. When I suggest going out and they say, "Well, we'll have to make it early because of Junior's schedule," I know to hem and haw on the date and promise to get back to them when the schedule "...frees up a bit...." Invitations to go to their house for dinner are an automatic "no" because of course, small noisy child will be there, and my cousin swears the only reason people with children invite people without children to their house is they want someone else to entertain their kids, no matter how marginally, for at least some length of time. (I believe the woman is absolutely correct on this.) People are "..so sorry we've not seen you in forever...." but they never stop to think, "Hmm, why wouldn't Whiskey Tango and Jack Daniels want to hang out with us anymore? Is it because of the children?" Bingo! People don't think like that, though. They honestly can't believe everyone doesn't find their children as charming as they do.

Fortunately, spouse and I enjoy each other's company and still have a reasonably large group of folks who don't have children that we can hang out with at the last minute. And if the day comes that we're suddenly out of friends, we'll use some of that spare disposable income not going towards daycare, diapers or savings for college for another great trip or upgraded electronics to enjoy our time in our quiet, unsticky home. Don't call us, we'll call you.

WTF?

2008-09-04T10:57:00.000-07:00

I originally wanted to call this blog Whiskey Tango Foxtrot which is a phrase a political ally flings around when confronted with shocking and unbelievable things, such as the selection of Sarah Palin as the Republican Vice Presidential nominee or the McCain camp's insistence that questioning her credentials is "sexist." (Excuse me while I lay down as I am having a stroke over this whole thing.) Sadly, the blog name was already taken but I get to post as Whiskey Tango which is ironic, because I don't drink whiskey and I can't tango. The reason I wanted the name is because my life is a series of WTF moments, some of which I may mention here. I'm often thinking "WTF?" at work when confronted by strange and bizarre things said or done by coworkers. For example:

Yesterday Blonde Boss comes to my desk and asks, "Do you know anything about fixing cell phones?" This is bad, because BB never asks questions like that as a hypothetical set up. Odds are, BB's done something to his cell phone.

"What did you do to it?" I ask.

"I kind of submerged it in the ocean this weekend."

"It's dead. Perhaps the wireless store can retrieve your data from your SIM card, if you're lucky."

I should point out here that I am just about the most untechnical person ever. If this site wasn't so freakin' easy to use, I would continue to be staunchly entrenched in my anti-technology stance that I am too old for new technology. No, I am not on MySpace or FaceBook, I am too flippin' OLD! The fact that I could even reference a SIM card is due to my close association with a large collection of engineers and MIS people. If it were up to me I'd still have one of those calendar organizers that you filled with paper. That sucker made me happy, unlike my PDA.

Back to Blonde Boss. Unhappy with my response, he replies, "Well, not fully submerged. I mean, I jumped off the boat close to the dock to tie it up and my shorts got wet but I threw the phone to....." He continued on from there but quite frankly I was no longer listening because it didn't matter how little an amount of time the phone was in the water, what mattered was that it got wet. I reiterated to BB that he needed to get himself to a store and get the data and he unhappily agreed and took off a few minutes later. I went back to work.

Skinny Boss shows up a few minutes later, looking for Blonde Boss. I explain about the phone and SB says, "What a coincidence. This weekend I had viciously awful brine-soaked chicken at a family restaurant that was so salty I couldn't eat it. My family made fun of me, asking me what did I expect ordering brine-soaked chicken. I tell you, I did not expect it to be that salty."

Whiskey.

Tango.

Foxtrot.

It's not like those two things are even remotely related, except for the featured element, salt. And this is what my work day is like, folks.

Why the Title?

2008-09-03T11:38:00.001-07:00

Several years ago, a good friend of mine suggested that no matter how bad things seemed, they could always be worse. After all, "...you could be on fire." Framed in such a manner, it's possible to see how any bad thing could be worse. Unless, of course, you're really on fire.

The internet is full of folks ranting about various subjects, and I certainly do my share of it in real life. I seem to have the same arguments/ranty discussions with the same groups of people and that doesn't really accomplish anything. I'm either talking with people who think like me or talking to people who are in utter disagreement with what I have to say, and either way I'm not making much headway.

I fall outside a lot of categorical "norms." I'm married, but I have no children. I'm liberal, but I don't drink the Kool-Aid and I don't care to listen to every political speech by every politician I'm supporting. I am often politically incorrect, but not within earshot of anyone who could possibly be offended. I've never understood the appeal of NASCAR, golf, or Cheez Whiz, yet I like movies with big explosions. I don't think people can be categorized neatly which is what I think makes life interesting. Hopefully this blog will be somewhat interesting too.