Thank You Donald

August 15th, 2008

Isn’t it nice Donald Trump is rescuing Ed McMahon from the mortgage crisis. It wasn’t long ago when Mr. Moneybags was struggling with debt himself. It’s nice to know he has a long memory and is willing to help others as others helped him.

The Donald’s generosity couldn’t have come at a better time. My stomach was suffering the ills of watching Ed parade around in a neck brace while looking for someone to sue is troubles away. Such a shame. If news reports are to be believed, the 70-something entertainer’s financial woes were the result of a slip and fall injury that left him unable to work. A snotty person might mention someone of his age and with his past income should have had a financial plan that didn’t rely on him working at this point, but I’ll leave my snotty self out of this conversation and move on.

Now that Mr. McMahon’s crisis is over it is a lot less likely we will have to endure watching him as the poster boy for the mortgage crisis. I doubt he will fade from the spotlight completely. Aflac should do its level best to sign him on as their next spokesperson. Lord knows there had to of been days over the past year when ole Eddie boy wished he had listened to that damn duck.

Olympic Rings

August 13th, 2008

Am I the only one with an Olympic hangover? For a girl who likes to be in bed by 10:00, these late nights are killing me. My Olympic rings aren’t a cute assortment of vibrant colors, but dark blue and purple lovelies under my droopy eyeballs. Dang. I don’t look much different than the football players who smear on black goop to cut down on glare. You’d think I’d at least get that benefit, glare reduction. Not so, not so. My face greeted the sun today with its normal squints, those adorable facial contortions that leave me looking every bit my 36 years.

I did a bit of math this evening. I’m losing about 3 hours of sleep every night because of the Games. I know the Games run 16 days, but I’ll likely only be glued to about 14 of them. So, 3 times 14 equals 42. When all is said and done I’ll be just shy of 2 full days short on sleep. There was a time when my life was such I could spend a weekend on the couch. Problem solved. These days I’ll be lucky if I’ve caught up on sleep by the time the Winter Olympics roll around in 2010. Unless, of course, I’m as close to death as I feel some days. If that’s the case, I’ll catch up on the missed time without batting an eye.

Sloppy Joes

August 12th, 2008

There are lots of sloppy Joes, Mikes, Bills and (in my case) Steves in this world. Many women I know cite their husband’s sloppiness as their number one complaint. It seems my house isn’t the only one plagued with strewn clothing, scattered dishes, abandoned food wrappers, orphaned tools and obstacle course style shoe storage. As efficient as I try to be at righting the chaos, my beloved seems to out pace me 10 fold in the distribution of his debris.

So many women can relate to my challenge, yet there is still a fear of being judged by other women as lazy or sloppy myself should one happen to see my house in its full tornadic glory. Why is this? I know I’m not the only one whose heart sinks to the floor when a surprise visitor rings the doorbell. My husband promptly opens the door without hesitation and happily invites in the masses. Not one thought is given to what the individual may be in store for once crossing the threshold. I just want to hide in the corner and bury my cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, in my hands.

There are times when I wonder where my husband’s confidence comes from. Is he secure in the knowledge I’m more likely to be judged for the appearance of our home or does he truly see no big deal in sharing our mess with the world? I fully believe women are mostly to blame in all of this. We have allowed men to exist for ages with the impression we like picking up after them. Secondly, knowing what is likely at play in most households, we still take it upon ourselves to judge other women harshly who are in the exact same boat as us. It may not be a judgment in the form of words, but many are familiar with the looks, sighs and sounds of disapproval.

There’s A Brownie In My Frig

August 10th, 2008

There’s a brownie in my frig. Just one. Well, not really one. It looks like one, but the truth of the matter is I like to bake my brownies in such a small dish it ends up being like 2 or 3 brownies thick. I had dinner guests last night, you see. After all the carnage this one lone mass of chocolate goodness remained. It’s wrapped in foil. That’s probably the only reason it’s still there. Had it been clearly visible in plastic wrap there is little doubt my husband would have relieved the brownie of its solitary existence.

So now what? It’s 9:30 in the morning and my husband is gone for the day. The brownie is talking to me, which means I’m either insane or bi-lingual with brownie speak on my list of languages. The brownie is cold and alone. It doesn’t want to go on this way. I hate being cold and alone too. How can I ignore its plight and not do what I can to envelop it in warmth? If I went ahead and ate it, I’m sure it would be the beginning of a long and lasting relationship. We’d be together forever. It would never be without companionship again. It’s hard to know what thigh, upper arm or buttock it will take up residence in, but it will definitely have a home with me. I imagine it would get along well with its neighbors, mashed potatoes, pasta, Oreo and pie. What’s the chance of me charging these boarders rent and retiring a young millionaire?

Can of Shame

August 9th, 2008

I’m a bit disgusted with myself lately. Too much food is ending up in the trash can. Forgotten leftovers, moldy bread, fermented fruits and shriveled veggies are more the norm than they should be. It’s so easy to just toss it in the can and tell myself I’ll do better next time around. I don’t do better though. A few weeks later it’s more black lettuce, questionable meat, sour dairy and antibiotic producing carbs headed for their final resting place. Ugh. There is no excuse for not making use of food. When I was a kid starving kids in Africa were constantly being referenced. We don’t seem to talk much about them anymore.  Wasting that mound of carrots on my plate wasn’t an option because it could have be put to good use by someone with nothing. I have got to do a better job of managing my refrigerator. If it is impossible to consume what I have before it expires then I need to limit what I buy. Sounds so simple. Why I am struggling in this area is beyond me. I’m better than this. I know I am.

Just Another Pin In The Cushion

August 8th, 2008

So John Edwards admitted to an affair today. He made a “serious error in judgment”. And error, eh? I think not. John Edwards made a CHOICE that was not a good one. He consciously violated the vows he made to a woman who hauled herself all around the country on a brutal schedule to promote his candidacy while battling a horrible disease. Granted, now they are reporting this affair occurred before Elizabeth’s cancer diagnosis and he confessed the indiscretion 2 years ago. That’s all well and good, but we’d still be in the dark had he not been caught visiting this woman’s hotel in the wee hours of the morning a few weeks ago. How he could think for one moment a person in the spotlight of a presidential / vice presidential campaign could have an affair and keep it under wraps is beyond me. If Mrs. Edwards has any strength at the moment, I hope she uses it to beat him silly. She’s likely too classy for that, but sometimes class is overrated.

The woman at the center of all of this has a love child Edwards is denying any link to. This child, you see, is the product of this woman’s relationship with another staffer of his. Are you kidding me? Who was this woman? The pincushion for the Edward’s campaign? He made a bad choice for what? Love? Nope, he said he didn’t love the woman. I’m sure it will be of great consolation to his wife that he shattered their marriage over someone who wasn’t even all that special.

John Edwards, your good name is soiled. At least that good hair you are so proud of is still treating you well. You might need it to hide under for a while.

Lollipop Magic

August 7th, 2008

Ah, I am enjoying the blissful discovery 2 year olds are tamed by lollipops.  Call it bribery, perhaps it is.  No matter, there is no denying the gratitude I have towards those little sugar lumps for quieting public tantrums.  Now, if only they worked on older people behaving like 2 year olds.

We Deserve Whatever We Get

August 7th, 2008

I’m frustrated today. There are times when I am sincerely scared and disappointed over the direction my country is going. Before having kids it was easier to shrug off. Now I have a greater concern over the future, their future.

Most have heard of the execution of the Texas immigrant who murdered and raped 2 girls 15 years ago. It’s created a big mess for the US that could have been avoided, yet arrogance overruled common sense. I’ve heard and read many comments from citizens applauding Texas’ courage for going ahead with the execution. The comments are laced with blood lust and anti-illegal alien sentiment. I do understand wanting justice for the victims. I also understand the frustrations surrounding the growing problem of illegal immigration. This issue really isn’t about either, however. It is about honoring our word and protecting our credibility when it comes to international agreements.

Many of those giving Texas a standing ovation clearly don’t understand the objective of the Vienna Convention or comprehend what the real complaint is against how things were handled. They think it is some sort of ‘get out of jail free’ card. As if involving the Mexican Consulate in this gentleman’s prosecution would have some how compromised justice or changed the outcome. It wouldn’t have. It’s not designed to hand citizens over to their home countries for punishment. It’s not diplomatic immunity. It is simply an agreement that Consulates are notified when their citizens are charged with a crime on foreign soil and that their citizens have a right to seek their assistance in navigating/understanding that country’s legal system. I know if I were ever charged with a crime on foreign soil the American Consulate would be the first call I’d want to make. It would be my right under the terms of the Vienna Convention. Now there is no guarantee a foreign country would feel obligated to extend that right to me since the US has shown international agreements and codes of conduct need only apply when convenient.

To those who are celebrating this man’s execution, just know it comes with a price. We could have had the exact same outcome by following proper channels and not have put our citizens’ rights to assistance abroad in jeopardy. Joke all you like about how making Mexico mad is no big deal. One person said “what do they have, like 2 tanks to come get us with.” This isn’t just about fear of military retaliation. This is about opening the door for any other country who wishes to ignore agreements they’ve made by citing our actions as justification. To those who feel this gentleman was not Mexico’s concern because he illegally entered the US as a young child, I say get consistent. He is either a citizen of our country or he is a citizen of another. If the US isn’t willing to claim him as one of us, then they can’t turn around and say he doesn’t belong to Mexico either.

This whole ordeal has given me one thing to kind of sort of compliment George Bush on. As clueless as I’ve felt him to be he did recognize the scope of the problem and opposed this man’s execution without righting the wrong that was committed 15 years ago. So 2 points to Georgie Boy there. He actually took a moment to think about how our actions might compromise our ability to be effective in international circles. He isn’t completely golden in my eyes though. There is little doubt in my mind he was aware of this issue when he occupied the Governor’s Office in Texas. So many years have passed where this man could have been retried under the appropriate conditions. He was guilty as sin. There is no changing that. Short of inventing an effective mechanism for time travel, there is nothing his Consulate could have done to rewrite history and make him be or appear innocent. Justice was going to be achieved. It would have been a lot wiser to get to that point without turning a blind eye to promises and ethics.

Can’t Help But Wonder…

August 6th, 2008

I can’t help but wonder if those silly masks the US Cycling Team donned the other day to protect them from China’s bad air were manufactured in one of the plants contributing to the pollution problem there.  Wouldn’t it just figure.  I imagine many Americans taking in the Olympics will have an unkind word or two to say about the air quality.  Never mind much of what they are wearing and using on a day to day basis played a role.  We can bellyache as a nation all we want about the jobs we’ve lost in manufacturing to China.  That is undeniable.  What we seem to forget is the degree of pollution that followed those jobs.  I doubt too many of us are heartbroken our skies are reasonably clear.

Separation Anxiety

August 6th, 2008

A couple very close to me is separating. I know the path to divorce is a common one. Still, I’m shocked and devastated. Sometimes I find myself questioning why anyone even bothers with marriage. If ‘until death do we part’ isn’t realistic for the masses, what is the point? There doesn’t seem to be a magic line where, once crossed, the couple is safe from imploding. The compassionate part of me supports the idea of people who are unhappy finding their way out of a toxic relationship. The selfish part of me dreads the thought of my world changing from the death of the relationship and wants them to stick to their vows no matter the personal cost. My marriage is young enough I am still able to cling to the hope that the relationship is as good or bad as I make it out to be. Sans abuse (physical, mental, substance), I can’t imagine not being able to reinvent my marriage should it falter at times. I guess part of my issue with processing the collapse of other peoples’ marriages is the inner fear I might not have as much control over happily ever after as I thought.