In honor of my good friend irony I have made the decision to begin this post in the most cliche way possible; I looked up the word special in the dictionary (well....the online dictionary). Special (adjective) 1. unusual or better - distinct, different, unusual, or superior in comparison to others of the same kind.
Interesting. So why do brides refer to their weddings as their 'special day?' In my experience there is very little that is actually special about a modern day wedding. Every wedding that I've been to in the last decade has been indiscernible from the next. Big, over priced white dress (more to come on that in the next post)...cookie cutter vows (yes, even the 'personalized vows' are the same old, same old).....YMCA at the reception followed by the cutting of the multi-tiered cake. Even the song for the first dance is often the same. Nothing special about that.
I'm about the biggest fan of tradition that there is but weddings seem to have crossed the line from traditional ceremonies into the land of mundane, formulaic procedures. For a wedding to sincerely be special it should reflect the beliefs, opinions and preferences of the couple (yes ladies, your husband to be should have a voice in the plans). It shouldn't be a reflection of the most recent bridal magazine. So when your number is up and you are sitting in the hot seat (otherwise known as the wedding coordinators office) I encourage you to make some decisions that will make your wedding interesting, personalized and distinctive. Make it truly yours. Just don't be one of those hippies who gets married barefoot on the beach. That's may be special but it's really annoying.
Monday, April 25, 2011
A royal sham.....
It's been almost a month since I've blogged. To make up for the gap (I know you've all been struggling to eek out some normalcy in a world without my posts) I'm going to celebrate the Royal wedding with a week of wedding related posts. Here goes:
In general I'm not the kind of parent who gets all worked up about my daughter being influenced by tv, books, movies. I take the stance that, while I am discerning about what goes into her head, my influence as a parent far outweighs what she hears and sees from other sources. I'm a pretty open and honest parent. I don't use cutesy names for anatomy, I answer questions directly (and sarcastically), etc. But one thing that I have noticed lately is how our society cultivates a little girls dream of becoming a bride....as though that is where the story ends.
Within the last 48 hours I have read over a dozen books to my daughter that close with the phrase and they lived happily ever after. At the drop of a tiara my daughter will grab anything resembling a bouquet of flowers, use a blanket as a makeshift train and play bride. Take a moment and ask the closest unmarried young woman about her wedding (whether she is engaged or not) and you'll likely get a 27 minute tutorial about flower arrangements, dress options and reception venue selection. It's insane. It seems that from the moment our girls can identify their vagina (yes, I used the real word...get over it) they've mentally begun taking their first steps down the aisle.
But do you notice how no one ever talks about their dream of being a wife? The fantasy seems to end after the 'I do'. And therein lies the problem. We don't ever hear about a young girls plans to be a supportive and productive spouse....how she has planned for every detail of her special role.....how she's prepared to spend decades as an encouraging companion. Is it more fun to be princess for a day than partner for a lifetime? Not if you ask me. It's all about perspective. There's nothing wrong with having a special day so long as it is the beginning, not the end, of your happily ever after.
In general I'm not the kind of parent who gets all worked up about my daughter being influenced by tv, books, movies. I take the stance that, while I am discerning about what goes into her head, my influence as a parent far outweighs what she hears and sees from other sources. I'm a pretty open and honest parent. I don't use cutesy names for anatomy, I answer questions directly (and sarcastically), etc. But one thing that I have noticed lately is how our society cultivates a little girls dream of becoming a bride....as though that is where the story ends.
Within the last 48 hours I have read over a dozen books to my daughter that close with the phrase and they lived happily ever after. At the drop of a tiara my daughter will grab anything resembling a bouquet of flowers, use a blanket as a makeshift train and play bride. Take a moment and ask the closest unmarried young woman about her wedding (whether she is engaged or not) and you'll likely get a 27 minute tutorial about flower arrangements, dress options and reception venue selection. It's insane. It seems that from the moment our girls can identify their vagina (yes, I used the real word...get over it) they've mentally begun taking their first steps down the aisle.
But do you notice how no one ever talks about their dream of being a wife? The fantasy seems to end after the 'I do'. And therein lies the problem. We don't ever hear about a young girls plans to be a supportive and productive spouse....how she has planned for every detail of her special role.....how she's prepared to spend decades as an encouraging companion. Is it more fun to be princess for a day than partner for a lifetime? Not if you ask me. It's all about perspective. There's nothing wrong with having a special day so long as it is the beginning, not the end, of your happily ever after.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
As time goes by....
I've never been one who was prone to idealize romanticism. As anyone who has read my previous posts knows, I'm not a very romantic person. At least not stereotypically romantic. I can do without the flowers, the poems, the sappy movies, blah blah blah. That's just not my style. When I would daydream about being in love it was more about someone 'getting' my jokes, or understanding my oddball references. Never have I fantasized about being swept off my feet by the prince, charging in on his white steed. My version of a fairy tale has always been something more along the lines of cuddling on the couch with my guy, watching Office Space while quoting lines and laughing. For me, the deep, satisfying closeness of a well developed rapport is far more attractive than the butterflies one experiences during the early days of a relationship.
I find it interesting, however, that as we achieve the closeness and safety that comes with said rapport, we often lose the niceties and subtleties that made the beginning of the relationship enjoyable. As we add up the months and years and finally reach the stage where we really know and deeply love someone, we begin to neglect the little things. It's ironic isn't it? The more you love someone, the less you are likely to do the things that were done to attract them. Men open doors with less frequency. Women shave their legs less often. Compliments go by the way side. Physical affection decreases (get your minds out of the gutter. I'm talking hand holding, people). As time goes by we're more inclined to let our partners see 'the real us', which, let's face it....probably isn't that great. The real me means I have on no make-up, my hair is tied in a knot, a razor hasn't graced my skin for a few days, I'm clothed in the U of R's finest knitwear, and I'm sporting my very best worn out tennis shoes. Does my husband love me in spite of all this...yes. But, why should he have to? Why should we accept a decline in effort as a natural response to closer, deeper love? It should be the exact opposite.
All things working as they should be, with each page turned on a calendar (ok, I'm dating myself now. Does anyone other than me actually use a paper calendar anymore?) we should gain more respect for, desire more love from, and display more affection towards our partners. It's not as hard as we make it seems. Nike says it best....Just Do It! Pick up a Gillette, open a door and enjoy each other again. You'll both be glad you did.
I find it interesting, however, that as we achieve the closeness and safety that comes with said rapport, we often lose the niceties and subtleties that made the beginning of the relationship enjoyable. As we add up the months and years and finally reach the stage where we really know and deeply love someone, we begin to neglect the little things. It's ironic isn't it? The more you love someone, the less you are likely to do the things that were done to attract them. Men open doors with less frequency. Women shave their legs less often. Compliments go by the way side. Physical affection decreases (get your minds out of the gutter. I'm talking hand holding, people). As time goes by we're more inclined to let our partners see 'the real us', which, let's face it....probably isn't that great. The real me means I have on no make-up, my hair is tied in a knot, a razor hasn't graced my skin for a few days, I'm clothed in the U of R's finest knitwear, and I'm sporting my very best worn out tennis shoes. Does my husband love me in spite of all this...yes. But, why should he have to? Why should we accept a decline in effort as a natural response to closer, deeper love? It should be the exact opposite.
All things working as they should be, with each page turned on a calendar (ok, I'm dating myself now. Does anyone other than me actually use a paper calendar anymore?) we should gain more respect for, desire more love from, and display more affection towards our partners. It's not as hard as we make it seems. Nike says it best....Just Do It! Pick up a Gillette, open a door and enjoy each other again. You'll both be glad you did.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Our poor teachers.
For the last couple of weeks as I've been on Facebook I've noticed that a few of my 'friends' have had the same note show up in their posts. It's the one titled 'Are you sick of highly paid teachers?' Obviously this is a moot question because, as we all know, teachers don't make what anyone would call an extravagant wage. So the answer to the Facebook question is, no. I am not sick of highly paid teachers. I'm just sick of whiny teachers.
To avoid any confusion, let me state at the outset that I am very good friends with several teachers. They all know my viewpoint (something I've been working on lately is expressing my opinions more freely). And so we are all on the same page here, I want it known from the get go that, while I have nothing but respect and admiration for the hard working teachers of the world, I don't believe that there is anything inherently noble about becoming a teacher.
Are there many, many great teachers who seek out their profession because they want to educate and mold the minds of our future? Yes. Are there many teachers who spend countless hours both inside and out of their classroom preparing wonderfully enriching lessons for our kids? Yes. But let's be honest. There are also many, many teachers who become teachers as a fall back (I've heard it said a couple of times a year since I've been at the U of R.....'if I can't get a job in my field of study I can always teach for a few years'). There are many teachers who do the bare minimum and find the students to be a necessary evil that they must tolerate in exchange for working only eight months a year.
And to bring us back to the question on Facebook....NEWSFLASH: It's no big secret that teachers don't become millionaires. To me this is the central point. I get so tired of people making choices and then doing nothing but complaining about the results. How scary is it that the people charged with educating our children and molding their minds can't even figure out a principle as simple as cause and effect? If you want to make more than $50,000 average per year then don't teach! No one is forcing you to walk into my kid's classroom. I've yet to hear about the teacher brigade that storms into your home in the middle of the night and forces you to the local school.
Smokers who sue Tobacco companies. Drivers who get angry when they order hot coffee that burns them when it spills. Teachers who complain about their wages. These are all people who don't seem to have any critical thinking skills and certainly don't seem to want to take responsibility for their choices. In the case of teachers this is not only annoying but it's downright unnerving. How can you teach something (critical thinking, judgement, problem solving) if you don't understand and practice the concept yourself? Infuriating.
To sum up.....teachers, if you want to vent about how kids can be rude/disrespectful in the classroom or how you don't have the parental support that you need to successfully educate our kids, I'll be your biggest and loudest cheerleader. But please, don't expect me to feel sorry for the size of your paycheck. Because while you are enjoying your week off at Thanksgiving (and Christmas and Spring Break and three months off every summer) my husband has to go to work six days a week to make the same amount that you do. And he doesn't whine about it either. That was his choice.
To avoid any confusion, let me state at the outset that I am very good friends with several teachers. They all know my viewpoint (something I've been working on lately is expressing my opinions more freely). And so we are all on the same page here, I want it known from the get go that, while I have nothing but respect and admiration for the hard working teachers of the world, I don't believe that there is anything inherently noble about becoming a teacher.
Are there many, many great teachers who seek out their profession because they want to educate and mold the minds of our future? Yes. Are there many teachers who spend countless hours both inside and out of their classroom preparing wonderfully enriching lessons for our kids? Yes. But let's be honest. There are also many, many teachers who become teachers as a fall back (I've heard it said a couple of times a year since I've been at the U of R.....'if I can't get a job in my field of study I can always teach for a few years'). There are many teachers who do the bare minimum and find the students to be a necessary evil that they must tolerate in exchange for working only eight months a year.
And to bring us back to the question on Facebook....NEWSFLASH: It's no big secret that teachers don't become millionaires. To me this is the central point. I get so tired of people making choices and then doing nothing but complaining about the results. How scary is it that the people charged with educating our children and molding their minds can't even figure out a principle as simple as cause and effect? If you want to make more than $50,000 average per year then don't teach! No one is forcing you to walk into my kid's classroom. I've yet to hear about the teacher brigade that storms into your home in the middle of the night and forces you to the local school.
Smokers who sue Tobacco companies. Drivers who get angry when they order hot coffee that burns them when it spills. Teachers who complain about their wages. These are all people who don't seem to have any critical thinking skills and certainly don't seem to want to take responsibility for their choices. In the case of teachers this is not only annoying but it's downright unnerving. How can you teach something (critical thinking, judgement, problem solving) if you don't understand and practice the concept yourself? Infuriating.
To sum up.....teachers, if you want to vent about how kids can be rude/disrespectful in the classroom or how you don't have the parental support that you need to successfully educate our kids, I'll be your biggest and loudest cheerleader. But please, don't expect me to feel sorry for the size of your paycheck. Because while you are enjoying your week off at Thanksgiving (and Christmas and Spring Break and three months off every summer) my husband has to go to work six days a week to make the same amount that you do. And he doesn't whine about it either. That was his choice.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
In Defense of Choice.
In our country there are certain questions, that when answered, define a persons' personality and belief system. Typically opinions are very clearly delineated, with very few exception. These are serious questions. The type of which there is no room for waffling.
For example: a) Elvis or b) The Beatles.
a) Coke or b) Pepsi.
a) Chevy or b) Ford.
a) Lakers or b) Celtics
a) Pro-Life or b) Pro-Choice.
a) Smoker or b) non-smoker.
(The correct answers are b-a-b-a-b-a).
For the record, I am not a smoker. I have never been a smoker (minus one week in Jr. High when I pretended to smoke with Becky Tank). I will never become a smoker. I think that we have ample information about the detrimental effects on your health when you choose to smoke. It's my opinion that people who have such information and choose to begin smoking anyway are idiots. However, for the most part I fall clearly on the 'side' of the smoker.
To begin I'd like to argue that us non-smoking types really don't care about the health of 'the children'. How could we? Those of us who don't smoke aren't purchasing cigarettes thus not paying the exorbitant taxes which finance many of the Child's Health programs in our state. Obviously if I was truly concerned for the welfare (pardon the pun) of needy children I'd start a pack a day habit.
Then we come to restaurants and bars. Ok, I get that you may not want to sit down for dinner and have to smell the smoke from the college kids at the table next to you. And I get that we are supposed to care about the poor waitresses who choose that profession with full knowledge that they'll be breathing smoke all night long. But I come at this from the perspective of someone who is quickly becoming a Libertarian in her old age. To me, it is absolutely wrong for the guv-ment to tell me what I can/can't do in my place of business. And before you go off half cocked and say something silly like 'SOOO business owners should be able to do whatever they want, huh? How about selling porn to handicapped kids on school campuses, eh?'....what I mean is that if something is LEGAL (which for the foreseeable future smoking will be because it makes one heck of a lot of money for said govt.) then each individual business owner should be able to decide for themselves. As should each patron. If I own a restaurant... and I CHOOSE to make my business a smoking establishment... and no one CHOOSES to come to eat my steak...then I go out of business. Problem solved. No government intervention needed.
Onto parks and beaches. It's now illegal to smoke in a park/on a beach. Really? Please try to explain to me (without laughing because it is obviously so ridiculous) how the smoke from the dude on the blanket 50 feet away from you is going to cause your lung cancer. You may find it irritating or inconvenient but it certainly isn't a health issue. And if we are going to start legislating to prevent inconvenience then I want to see the 'Your Kid is a Brat-Get Him Out of This Restaurant' bill up for a vote at the next election. Or perhaps the 'Hey Fat Lady - You Smell - Move Over' law enacted immediately.
What it boils down to for me is consistency. Don't say that smoking is a horrible terrible thing and then finance programs for kids with the money. Don't pussy foot around the issue. Make a clear, consistent decision. If smoking is something that we as a society deem too problematic or dangerous to continue, then grow a pair, make a decision, and make it illegal. Until then back off of the smokers. I want to live in a country where I have the option of walking a little further away from the dude on the beach or picking a different dinner destination. Either way, keep your damn kids quiet while I eat.
For example: a) Elvis or b) The Beatles.
a) Coke or b) Pepsi.
a) Chevy or b) Ford.
a) Lakers or b) Celtics
a) Pro-Life or b) Pro-Choice.
a) Smoker or b) non-smoker.
(The correct answers are b-a-b-a-b-a).
For the record, I am not a smoker. I have never been a smoker (minus one week in Jr. High when I pretended to smoke with Becky Tank). I will never become a smoker. I think that we have ample information about the detrimental effects on your health when you choose to smoke. It's my opinion that people who have such information and choose to begin smoking anyway are idiots. However, for the most part I fall clearly on the 'side' of the smoker.
To begin I'd like to argue that us non-smoking types really don't care about the health of 'the children'. How could we? Those of us who don't smoke aren't purchasing cigarettes thus not paying the exorbitant taxes which finance many of the Child's Health programs in our state. Obviously if I was truly concerned for the welfare (pardon the pun) of needy children I'd start a pack a day habit.
Then we come to restaurants and bars. Ok, I get that you may not want to sit down for dinner and have to smell the smoke from the college kids at the table next to you. And I get that we are supposed to care about the poor waitresses who choose that profession with full knowledge that they'll be breathing smoke all night long. But I come at this from the perspective of someone who is quickly becoming a Libertarian in her old age. To me, it is absolutely wrong for the guv-ment to tell me what I can/can't do in my place of business. And before you go off half cocked and say something silly like 'SOOO business owners should be able to do whatever they want, huh? How about selling porn to handicapped kids on school campuses, eh?'....what I mean is that if something is LEGAL (which for the foreseeable future smoking will be because it makes one heck of a lot of money for said govt.) then each individual business owner should be able to decide for themselves. As should each patron. If I own a restaurant... and I CHOOSE to make my business a smoking establishment... and no one CHOOSES to come to eat my steak...then I go out of business. Problem solved. No government intervention needed.
Onto parks and beaches. It's now illegal to smoke in a park/on a beach. Really? Please try to explain to me (without laughing because it is obviously so ridiculous) how the smoke from the dude on the blanket 50 feet away from you is going to cause your lung cancer. You may find it irritating or inconvenient but it certainly isn't a health issue. And if we are going to start legislating to prevent inconvenience then I want to see the 'Your Kid is a Brat-Get Him Out of This Restaurant' bill up for a vote at the next election. Or perhaps the 'Hey Fat Lady - You Smell - Move Over' law enacted immediately.
What it boils down to for me is consistency. Don't say that smoking is a horrible terrible thing and then finance programs for kids with the money. Don't pussy foot around the issue. Make a clear, consistent decision. If smoking is something that we as a society deem too problematic or dangerous to continue, then grow a pair, make a decision, and make it illegal. Until then back off of the smokers. I want to live in a country where I have the option of walking a little further away from the dude on the beach or picking a different dinner destination. Either way, keep your damn kids quiet while I eat.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Hopefully he won't fall asleep while...
My husband is a closet mountain man. He's often said that the only thing keeping him from turning Amish is that he couldn't live without a radio. Now, it's true that five or six days a week stares at a computer as a desk jockey. But that is because he is an incredibly hardworking person who does whatever is necessary (not what he likes, or what makes him 'happy') to provide for our family. The last thing that he would ever enjoy doing is sitting in front of a computer....or sitting at all actually. He's just not a sitter. He's the guy who feels guilty if he plants himself in front of the tv to catch half of a Lakers playoff game. Joel would much rather be out in the elements doing just about anything. Unfortunately, that is a pastime to which he doesn't treat himself very often.
So, last month when I read an article in the newspaper about how the SB County Forestry Department was seeking volunteers to count the long horned sheep in the mountains, I immediately thought of Joel. First thing I did was set down the paper and call the number to sign him up. Didn't even stop to consult with Joel as to whether he'd be interested. Partly this is because I KNEW that he'd be interested but mostly it's because I knew that Joel would never volunteer himself for something that he would enjoy. He'd think it was too indulgent. That's the Norwegian coming out in him. They're a very unpretentious people.
Cut to today. Joel is sitting in an orientation meeting as we speak and will be headed up to tent camp in the mountains for the evening (in the snow) in preparation for his early morning start tomorrow. As any Italian wife would do I packed him enough food to sustain him for a week for his 24 hour excursion. He's got his trusty Bear Grylls survival kit on hand (Leatherman and flint). Neatly packed away (yeah right...probably just thrown on the passenger seat of the truck) is the most important item for any trip - reading material. He's going to have a blast and hopefully bring back some stunning pictures. In true 'us' form (ie: inappropriate) as I kissed him goodbye I asked if his life insurance was current. He replied by saying we didn't have to come looking for him unless he was gone for over a week. I love that guy. Sure hope he doesn't freeze to death.
Monday, January 17, 2011
It took some smooth talking and a bit of emotional manipulation, but nearly eighteen years ago I was able to convince my mom to let me get a dog. I made a call to the local shelter and was set up with a family who had just gotten a puppy but had to let her go because of an impending move. After a phone conversation they brought over ten week old 'Hannah' --a cream colored fluff ball with big slipper like feet-- for a visit. I remember sitting on the kitchen floor (some of the ugliest yellow linoleum in history) and calling her over to me; with the clap of a hand she came bounding over and slid right into my lap. Done deal. She was mine. The family left and Peaches became the first true love of my life. "That dog is going to be huge" said mom. "Just look at her paws."
Peaches was special (only pet owner to think that, right?). As a puppy she could chew through a pair of shoes in record time. She always seemed to have a smile on her face. She was a happy, happy dog. Fiercely protective, she defended me against intruders the likes of the U.P.S. man with mother bear like prowess. Always at the ready for a car ride, one clink of the keys would start her spinning in circles towards the door in anticipation. Literally. And she was smart too. How many dogs do you know who can spell? Couldn't even spell the word walk without causing her heart to start racing. When she was younger (and could still jump onto the bed) I'd leave the house, bed made nicely, and return to find her not just on the bed but IN it. Seriously. Under the covers, head on the pillow. Special.
One of the best parts of being mama to a dog like Peaches for so many years was the deeply rooted relationship that was formed. We understood the nuances of each others emotions in a way that was truly unique. I could speak to her like a human and she knew exactly what I was saying. Often times I didn't even need to speak. Many a time when I was sick or feeling badly about something she's seek me out and lay with me. Best cuddle buddy ever. Years spent together taught her to leave the room if I turned on football (I tend to yell. A lot) and taught me that she didn't like yellow Starburst.
And as is often the case, when we lose a trusted friend or family member, the things that we miss aren't the obvious. It's the little things that make the void most apparent. I miss the sound of her sneezing when she lays on her back. I miss the way she falls asleep with her tongue sticking out. I miss the smell of her in the bedroom. I used to get annoyed by the copious amounts of dog hair that filled my house (my car, my purse...). Now I dread the day when I'll be able to leave the house without a lint roller.
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