And Then? Grandma's Make it All Better

So there I was, having a "depths of despair" moment*, longing for the days when I lived in Mayberry (context in the post below) - when all of a sudden, my radiant and lovely grandma called me just to see how I am doing. And really - it should work in reverse, right? I should be calling her. But whatever.

She wanted to know all my news - how is my knee? How is all the travel? And wow! Let's discuss how different and fast paced life is for young people today...(which turned into a long conversation about how her grandkids are so corporate, and not at all like her and my grandpa were, and how mind boggling it is to her that we do the things we do, etc.)

Then the epiphany hit. All this hardship for young kids today is just LIFE, you know? I mean - compared to her early life - the one where her father lost his sight in a mining explosion when he was like - in his 30's, and was BLIND for the rest of his life, and he only got something like $7 a month in disability - but still had to support a family...and oh! Her family was so poor that the snotty kid down the street used to make fun of her shoes because they had holes in the soles...and la di da. I could go on and on. Kids today - dude - they have it easy! Ok, maybe it's just sort of "easy-ish". It's all contextual; it's all relative. And life - even though it might suck for you, it sucks for everyone in some way, and the best you can do is laugh about it, try to find the good in it, and pull yourself up by your bootstraps when the occasion calls for it. Walk on - with your head held high and a smile on your face. That's what our folks before us did, and they have lived to tell about it, battle wounds and all.

Ahh. After a half hour of good gut-wobbling laughter, my "down-in-the-dumps" bad attitude has changed. I just needed to have a good, hearty chat with my cute grandma to make it all better.

Go call your Grandma. And tell her you heart her.



* Editors Note: If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands. And then skip the post below.
Addtional note: Picture is from this week's "Post Secret", and it made me smile. Both my grandma's do/did the same thing.

Rant

Grr.

Deep breath.

I have this friend who has 2 beautiful daughters - one 17, one 14. They are gorgeous. They are smart. They are these incredible, intuitive, articulate...lovely little creatures who are making their way through this world with a support network that anyone would envy. I also have a younger cousin with an eating disorder and a dependency on her mother's CONSTANT presence that I can't understand or explain, and another that recently tried to kill himself because he was having major anxiety.

The reason I tell you this, you ask?

It just seems that any cosmically timed hiccup in the social surroundings of kids today hits them with more force than is fair. You know what I mean? Like the stuff that merely put me on my ass back when I was a kid might very well put one living today in his grave. Of course - when we were kids, we had our share of social pressures. "Seventeen" magazine was enough to make any teenager my age feel inept, undesirable, and less-than. Add to that the actual face-to-face encounters one had to deal with everyday, and frankly - it's amazing that more of us didn't fling ourselves off the junior high gym when we were 14. For real.

I can't explain the rant that is running through my head here. I mean - kids today are dealing with the most of the same time-honored shit that we did:

"O.M.G. - Look.at.those.jeans.she's.wearing! Can you believe it? I wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything other than blah blah blah..."

"Seriously. If I have to starve myself to fit into those size 0 jeans..."

"Look at so-and-so. She is getting SO fat! She'll never get a date to the blah blah blah..."

"Have you seen her HAIR?"

Same time-honored shit, different decade.

But the kids I know today seem to have even more piled on their plates. There's sexual abuse, and learning how to live in "non-traditional" families; there's this expectation that kids grow up faster than we had to, that they carry more around on their shoulders than we did, and that they "just get over it and move on, for chrissake."

I suppose it's possible that I have always lived in a bubble and I didn't know anyone who had dealt with such things - the abuse, the eating disorders, or the life altering stresses that seem so foreign to me, but so real to kids today. Maybe I just lucked out and have had an enchanted life thus far. Or maybe my perception is failing me, and it was just as hard for us to make it through the obstacle course that was high school in one piece. Maybe there really isn't more drama - maybe I just feel it deeper when I see someone I really love going through it now.

So what is it? Am I smoking crack? Or do you see it too - and does it bother you as much as it bothers me? And what - pray tell - do we do about it? Can we fix it? Should we even try?

Sigh.

**End Rant**

Dear Smallest Man Ever,

I write this letter to you to ask you a serious question. You see - this year, I have no Valentine. No one to shower my love and kind wishes on, no one to smother under Mrs. Fields cookies bigger than the dead sea.

And then? Then I saw a picture of you.

When I laid my eyes on you - my heart fluttered. They say you weigh 20 pounds and are about 33 inches tall - not even a full 3 feet! And yet - you are a body builder. Let me just say - I can totally tell. Those guns could be the largest I have ever seen, and I have seen a lot of guns in my time. You are truly "manly", and I could use a bit of that in my life right now.

Let me cut to the chase - the point of my spontaneous letter. I really just wanted to know - will you be mine? I was thinking - you are small enough that I could fold you up and put you in my back pocket, which would come in handy - I am positive my brother in law would try to kick you on sight (given his silly notion that kicking midgets makes gold coins fly wildly about - and well - let's be honest - with you, the temptation might be similar), so a quick escape might be necessary, and the back pocket? Well, how cool would that be? And also, I was thinking it would be handy to just whip you out in restaurants or at the movie when I need a date, and then put you away safely for next time.

I mean, just because you are unbelievably small doesn't mean you have a grinch sized heart - I just know it. And as long as we could find something to chat about, I am positive it would be a win-win situation for both of us. Please - - consider my offer. Although, I should advise, it expires at midnight eastern tonight.

With much admiration -

Susieeq

Mwahahahahaha! Just kidding, small-Indian-body-builder-man-with-bleach-blonde-hair.

I saw him in a story on the net today, and thought he was actually quite amazing.

Really though - Valentines Day? I hate thee. Even when I am "attached". WHAT IS WITH the world these days? Why the expectation that something romantic MUST happen? I hate how lame the corporate, Hallmark-esque marketing capitalists (probably all smug married's anyway) try to make you feel when you are single.

So I declare: You can't make me feel bad, oh Valentine Nazi's! I spent the day on the beach today anyway (sssshhhh - don't tell my boss - I was supposed to be working, but the Florida sunshine and Ft. Lauderdale beach was just too appealing). See:

Right then - please note: taken with the crappy cell phone camera, NOT the beloved Canon.

Eff off, Valentines Day. You ain't got nothin' on the beach.

Another Political Tidbit to Feast Upon

So I recently heard that the Washington Post actually keeps track of the number of times the members of Congress are absent from a vote. You know - doing that thing that we elected them to do? Some might even call it their job? Our taxes pay for them to propose and make laws, consider our taxes, our social programs, our military...blah blah blah...and then they are supposed to tie it all up in a pretty bow and present it to the American people so that we know they are actually doing something. Doing something by voting for stuff.

It seems that some of our presidential candidates are doing better than others at holding down these jobs whilst campaigning, and I just thought I'd show you what I mean here.

And before you go all bug eyed on me - I know. Campaigning for president takes time, and the actual mechanics of campaigning aren't driven by party lines. I get it. I get that it takes time and money to win over voters. I mean - sheesh! Our candidates have to get on their private jets and move from city to city at the drop of a hat; they have to do television spots at all hours of the day while trying to look refreshed, they must meet with their constituents to discuss the issues, and spend time with there strategists "spinning" the latest tidbits published about them that may not be so favorable. All this, among a plethora of other things, I am sure. They must be so tired. Poor things.

When do they eat? When do they pee? WHEN DO THEY DO THEIR REAL JOBS with a schedule like that?

Survey says(!):

Of the 454 votes that have taken place (so far) during the 110th congress,

• John McCain missed 257. That's a whopping FIFTY SIX POINT SIX percent.
• Barack Obama? He missed 174. That's 38.3%, or more than one third.
• Hillary Clinton - She missed 112. That's 24.7%. Still not that impressive.

I'll let you decide how much that bothers you. At least some of these candidates show up for their real jobs more often than not.

My job is not nearly as glamorous, expensive, or time-consuming, but I can say that if I only showed up to do it 75% of the time, I'd be shit-canned so fast that my head would spin. And then I might be one of the many fine folks that have to leverage welfare to survive.



Go Dems!

Secret Ballot Shmallot

Ok. I am enraged.

Somehow it escaped my notice that Utah is not having an open Primary this year.

*Weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth*

Probably most of you knew this (I evidently live under a rock) - you knew that you would have to REGISTER AS AN OFFICIAL REPUBLICAN if you wanted to vote for a republican candidate in the primary. You probably didn't care. It's a sad, but true state of affairs that I wrangle with every election year - the truth that even though a person's vote should count in Utah, it won't unless you are voting with the - ahem - "moral" majority.

Actually, that's not the part that irritates me the most. What I am really miffed about is that the whole concept of a "secret ballot" goes out the window when they do this. Allow me to paint you a picture:

Voter: "Hi. I am here to vote."

Blue Haired Polling Place Lady: "Our records show that you are unaffiliated. Will you be voting democrat or republican today?"

Voter: "Um...exactly why are you asking me this? Do I have to say?"

BHPPL: "Only if you want to vote in today's Primary...blah blah blah (this is the part where, if they could, they would say something about how if you declare yourself as a republican, you are authorizing every republican fundraising organization to harass you incessantly for money until it's all over...or something like that."

Voter (feeling violated and painted into a corner and making the only logical choice after hearing the options): "Hmm. I think I'll go...Democrat. Yes! That's it. Democrat."

And then, the big redneck brute with no teeth, 15 tatoos, and a beatin' goodie in his hands (who happens to be eavesdropping on your little exchange) is going to follow you out to your car and beat you to death in the parking lot - all because you didn't pick his favorite war monger republican candidate and he KNOWS it.

That's just plumb amazin'. Nevermind the fact that it alienates all the good fence-sitters that could go either way, but who would rather do it without opening their checkbooks and emptying their savings accounts. They aren't even going to trouble themselves with going if it means there has to be a commitment, right?

So whatever. Happy secret-ish Primary day! Take your taser or your mace for protection.

Vanity Insanity

Is it insane to trudge out in 432" of new snow in order to get a pedicure? Yes, probably, but with a little 4-wheel drive and the prospect of some good foot-rubbage, it's totally worth it.

See:

"...it's gonna be a bright, bright, sunshiny day..."

My lovely friend little miss Kate is 36 days away from giving birth - that is at least, unless her new wee lass decides she can't wait anymore and makes a grand entrance on Tuesday*. We decided that before all of the excitement, it was time for a little pampering - her because she can't readily reach her toes, and me because my little shriveled up post-surgery leg needed some serious attention**. No matter - we were going regardless of the danger - nevermind that the heavens opened up today and dumped apocalyptic amounts of snow on the valley. I mean, SERIOUSLY. Have you ever seen so much snow***?

Note the actual color of the day, as opposed to the color you think of when you have orange toenails.

So the $50,000 question is, does such a journey make us vain?

Whatever. At least our pigs look hot.





*Or - please bless - within the next 15 minutes, right? "Please bless" is Kate's new favorite phrase, and it cracks me up. Everyone cross your fingers. And your toes...hee!
** And yes, we both have the same color on our toes, because the purple that I chose just paled in comparison to the orange that she chose, so I copied. I'm an unoriginal copier. Whatever. Bite me.
***God is punishing me, I just know it! I can't ski in this loveliness, and furthermore, I am plagued with it's constant removal. I am in purgatory. It's like we are withnessing the modern Noah's ark of snow. *Sigh*