Thursday, July 26, 2007

I Paid For That

There's a new post at I Paid For That?

If you'd like the non-rhyming account of my morning, that's the place to read it. I'm in a poem-y kind of mood this week so I've written a short poem about my Target experience.

I took myself to Target
While on my morning break.
I needed medication
To soothe a sinus ache.

The druggist hours were posted
For all the world to see.
Yet the door was locked down
On the Target pharmacy.

The employees weren't helpful
They didn't seem to care.
When I do more shopping
It surely won't be there.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Redneck Haikus

I live in Alabama. While not a native, I have been here for many years. So, even though I'm not a redneck, I can speak the language. I've taken my understanding of the culture and combined it with my love of haikus for your enjoyment and/or ridicule.

Rolling fields of green.
The beauty is unending.
Oh, no! It's KUDZU!

Southern Driving Rules:
(Standard laws do not apply)
My truck is bigger!

Culture, style and class?
Did you get lost or somethin'?
You ain't from 'round here.

Redneck wedding day
Barefoot and pregnant - they wed.
He did get 'er done.

Thought she had freckles.
Daddy spits out the window.
Poor thing... Bless her heart!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

I'm a Bad Daughter

Years ago, when I was single and dating, I decided to check out the online dating thing. This was long before and similar sites were even in existence. I think I used some kind of personals ad at Yahoo or AOL.

I was cautious. I emailed with the potential date for a while before giving my phone number. Even then, I only gave my cell number so the potential date (or serial killer) couldn’t do a reverse look-up and find out where I lived. When I first went out with the person, it was a lunch date. Lunch dates are perfect. You’re in broad daylight; you drive yourself to a public place; you meet. If the chemistry is not there or they give you the creeps, you have the excuse of getting back to work.

It was fun. I met some interesting people. I didn’t think it was all that daring. One day, I was driving to meet a fellow I’d met online. My mother called. She asked what I was doing.

“Oh, I’m going to meet a guy for lunch.”

“That sounds nice! Where did you meet him?” my mother asked. She asked because she’s my mother and mothers want to know these kinds of things.

“Online,” I replied.

“(gasping noises) What?!? Where?! How do you know he’s not a murderer? That’s not safe!” she calmly replied. Okay, it wasn’t calm. I was just seeing if you were paying attention. She replied like that because she’s my mother and mothers respond to things this way.

I explained the safety precautions I’d taken. I did my best to reassure her that I was going to be just fine. It didn’t work. Mom insisted that I call her the very minute I got back out to my car after lunch. If I recall correctly, she wrote down his name or something, too.

I am a bad daughter.

I did call my mother as soon as I got back in my car after lunch. Did I mention that I am a very bad daughter? You see, I called her but I muffled my voice and pretended I was terrified when she picked up the phone.

“Mom? I’m in the trunk of a car and I think we’re headed east.”

She did forgive me. She forgave me because she’s my mother and mothers do that kind of thing.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Hey! I Resent That!

I read an article recently in a magazine that will remain nameless because it makes me feel old to have it in my house. No, it’s not AARP or Modern Maturity or Arthritis Today but it’s a magazine aimed at women of a certain age. I’m tangenting; forgive me. I’m not yet old but my body and mind are starting to exhibit some of the ravages of time.

Why did I come in here? Oh, yeah, the article.

Connie Schultz wrote a piece in the Magazine-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named that has nothing to do, really, with my topic. However, there was this one little part of one little paragraph that jumped out at me. She wrote that a friend once defined resentment as you drinking the poison and expecting the other person to feel the pain. (note: my aging brain isn’t sure if that’s a direct quote or close to what she said or what I got out of it so I’ll check the magazine when I can and edit, if necessary). Miriam-Webster Online defines resentment as “a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury.” I like Connie’s friend’s definition better.

Why do we feel resentment? Someone else’s action or inaction has made our own personal existence less pleasant. Combine that with a lack of resolution about the unpleasantness and you get resentment.

It can be something relatively minor: The person in front of you at Starbucks is quizzing the barista about the growing conditions of the soybeans for the faux-milk in the grande half caff double soy double shot no foam hazelnut latte and asking if the coffee is fair-trade, shade-grown, and organic. Okay, seriously? Someone who cared about all of that wouldn’t be getting their coffee at Starbucks but I’m trying to make a point here. You resent the Soy Latte Lingerer because, damn it, you want your cinnamon chip scone and you want it NOW. That kind of resentment goes away rather quickly.

Then, there are the moderate resentments. These are somewhat serious and have the potential for doing damage but don’t permeate your entire life. I’m talking about things like: the boss who, in trying to do what’s best for the whole division, does not do the right thing and your career gets sidelined for a while; the “friend” who does something so completely unfriendlike that you wonder if they ever were a friend; the co-worker who frequently dorks up something so badly that you end up working late to fix their mistakes; the ex-husband who lied about you to the kids; and the [insert political party] leaders and members who do/don’t support [insert political agenda item].

Of course, all of these resentments don’t measure nearly as high on the Resent-O-Meter as those resentments about people who are part of our daily lives. Resentment focused at family members and significant others eats away at you. It makes your home – that place where you’re supposed to be able to go to get away from everything else – another place that adds to your stress-level. Many times, there’s not anything at all that you can do about the situation (serenity prayer, serenity prayer, serenity prayer…). Other times, a resentment causing situation continues because you don’t know how to fix it. And still other times, you allow it because the alternative is worse.

To me, here’s what’s key about the drinking poison analogy. If you don’t tell the person they’ve angered you or just let go of the resentment and anger, it poisons you. It poisons your mood and the spillover from that poisoned mood affects everything else in your life. It saps the enjoyment from things you normally enjoy because the offender’s offense is relived constantly in your mind. Worse, the resentee doesn’t even realize they’ve done something resent-worthy so they’re just be-bopping along while you sit and stew. They end up blindsided when you finally snap and read them the riot act.

Understanding that, it would make sense that I would learn to just let go of resentments or attack them head-on. I try. I’m even successful some of the time. I need to try harder.

Monday, July 02, 2007

Ow! Ow! Ow! A Top 5 List!

The Top Five Things to do when you have two torn disks in your lower back and done something you can't pronounce to your upper back/neck and it's causing shooting pains, burning, and numbness in your arms and hands.

5. Whine (this should be done in conjunction with all the other items on the list).
4. Stand up. Sitting is bad. Sitting hurts.
3. Go to bed, curled up on your side and hope it stops hurting.
2. Get pissed off at the surgeon with the God complex.
1. Take darvocet.

I've done all that and some other stuff including chiropractor, ice, rest, TENS, acupuncture, steroids, anti-inflammatories, eating whatever the hell I want because...well, because... okay, there's not a really good reason for that so I'm back on track today. I also went for my first physical therapy session. I feel like the traveling gnome when he uses the American appliance in the European outlet. You know, the one where he's thrown across the room and as he's flat on his back, whimpers, "Am I going to die?"

I hope and plan to blog more regularly as I heal.