Well, another year is about to close (in a little over a month) and I realized that I have forgotten to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your busy day to sit back and read what I blog about. Lets just call this my little belated Thanksgiving speech instead of an actual end of year well wishes to you all..... I appreciate all the positive feedback I get when I have the opportunity to see some of you and all those comments/messages I receive beyond my blog page. Even though I see myself as a "perpetual work in progress", I appreciate hearing that people can relate or even ponder on my perspective on things.
I do need to offer a solid and heartfelt thanks to a good friend, and fellow blogger, Steve. If it was not for him, I probably would have a very small window to express myself and an even smaller window of opportunity to get those moments of release that I seem to have a frequent need to do. While I do not post everything that pops into my head, I do offer to share the things that I feel blog-worthy and even in some roundabout way... relative somewhere in everyone's lives. You know, those... "think about it" questions I offer? Now, I never claimed to understand everything or even know all there is to know, I have seen this blog as a connection we all manage to have. I would not doubt that there have been times when after reading my somewhat little rants, you can easily connect the dots and recall moments in your life where you have felt the same. I believe that is what connects us on a level that now seems to not feel so lonely. I also respect the fact that everyone is different and there are times I may seem to be in a totally different place that you may or may not have ever ventured. Those "ah ha" moments of things that might just open a curtain to shed some light on something you never put much thought into, but it can be understood differently than I might have shared it. Perceptions and angles is what life is about. IT is all in what you take from it.
There are days (and sometimes weeks) where I seem to have fallen off the blogging wagon. It is best described as my moments of complacency. It is when a day is just a day and really, who needs to know everything, right? We all have lives and experiences that are common. I just never found a funny or insightful way to describe the workings of being the cook, the maid, the chauffeur, or the lackey of the home/family. I can definitely tell your this..... Laundry is not blog worthy. Well, except for the rite of passage experience DD had when she felt that she could wash her own laundry. That mishap ended up costing us dearly for new clothes. Gotta love her determination, but pity her inability to wait. Yep, another one of her father's traits. Otherwise, I see it as we all put our pants on one leg at a time and that is just not worthy of writing about it.
But there are times I have had a lot to say. In fact, there has been a time when I blogged almost every day and even twice here and there. It was a stage in my life where I felt I was at my most in deep thought. Marriage is never to be easy. Everyone has their challenges. What I shared during those times is what I felt was my fault. Changing who I am to adapt to a situation that was less than perfect to attempt to make it better in my eyes. Seeing that this happens in every marriage made it my personal challenge. Then there are times when you need that wake up call to remind you that you need to be true to who you are because once you lose who you really are.... That part of you gets lost.... forever. In order to be truly happy, you need to be happy with who you are first. Forcing a square peg into a round hole is not the solution. Even if you desire it to be so, you need to learn compromise. I used blogging to find my way back to who I am. I'll admit, I am not where I want to be in this life, but I am where I need to be. Once something moves me enough to write about it, I will guarantee you that I will write about it. Knowledge is power and I can only hope that what I offer is useful knowledge. I do seem to have a vast knowledge in useless crap, but with a little patience, I will have a gem or two worthy for sharing.
But the biggest and most heartfelt thanks goes out to everyone that enjoys my little "flossings". Hugs to you all....
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Overkill....
The silly season is truly upon us. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and then Black Friday will commence. I know that the whole concept of Black Friday is the one day stores look forward to because it is the one day that they feel that their sales will finally put them "in the black" after such a dismal year. This economy, along with a really poor working government, has put the kibosh on what has been coined as "living the American dream". Every hard working American is in fear of becoming a statistic in the jobless market and are holding tightly (with teeth clenched) to their jobs that overwork them and underpay them. Having a job puts you above the curve of poverty, but in all reality, we are just as poor as the next schlub. This whole "robbing Peter to pay Paul" scenario just to get by is getting a little old. After roughly four years of Obama spinning his wheels and the Houses of Government having a battle of wills, the American public is tired and frustrated. I should know. I gave DH a big boy pill and delegated that he takes over the finances since he is the major bread winner here. Watching him squirm has offered me a little amusement, but his refusal for my advise in how things need to be done is really setting my nerves on edge.
So, how did I get that notion to call the holiday season, "the silly season"? Simple. The holiday season has become more and more commercialized. People frantically race from store to store looking for the best deals on things to give that fit into their budget. People seem to act more like they are the only ones that count instead of sharing peace and goodwill towards their fellow man, woman, or child. Fights over the better parking spot, watching where you are walking, and the common courtesies that we were taught as children no longer applies. Fighting over the last "it" toy, grabbing stuff from other's carts, and knocking over people to reach the rack seem to humor those working in the store. Well, that is until you are responsible of ringing up their stuff. Then it seems like the days we have spent dealing with those that work at the DMV. After the battle to get the best deal, people walk out of those stores feeling quite spent. In fact, they seem to forget that there are other people trying to get to where they need to go. In their shopping induced haze, they wander aimlessly in front of those that just want to get the shopping experience over with. Wow, if there was absolutely zero concern for the safety of their fellow man, there would be carnage as far as the eye can see. No, but you will see a vast number of people cussing and flipping the finger. I guess that is the new way to spread the holiday spirit.
Fortunately, the major department stores decided to throw Christmas in our faces that much earlier. Door buster sales started as soon as the first of November, Christmas decorations were put up right after the Halloween rush. A certain radio station in the Chicago area decided that to further put you in the Christmas spirit would start playing Christmas music, 24/7, since the day after Halloween. Probably sooner, but I rarely seek out holiday music on the radio before an actual holiday. Nice to know that overkill is becoming an acceptable practice. While it is a reasonable request to be better prepared for the upcoming holiday, I would appreciate a little more honest advertising.
Last week, Macy's was having a sale on winter coats. Something in the area of $60 coats selling for $15. Advertised as a one day sale should be a major draw for people to come in. DD was in need of a new winter coat, so the timing was relatively ideal that there was a sale. Little did we know, that the sale was for only 4 hours. Being denied to purchase the coat during that time because DD thinks I have horrific fashion sense (and not sure what size she really needed), I was required to wait. Apparently, it was a stipulation from DH that the money handed to me to get said coat required to wait to drag child in tow after school. I giggled as I had to report to DH that the money he handed me was not enough to get her coat, but it was his lucky day that I had a few dollars in my wallet to cover the difference. Sorry, Bud, no change for you... I did share with him that if I was allowed to purchase the necessities in my time frame, we would be saving money, but alas, since giving DH the big boy pill about our finances I am still the scapegoat for why money is so tight. Happy holidays to me!
With Christmas just around the corner, I wince with anticipation that I will have to do the Christmas shopping. I hate shopping. I would rather get a root canal than deal with the holiday crowds. Maybe, if I drag DH to these overcrowded shopping meccas, he might actually take my advice and just get gift cards....
So, how did I get that notion to call the holiday season, "the silly season"? Simple. The holiday season has become more and more commercialized. People frantically race from store to store looking for the best deals on things to give that fit into their budget. People seem to act more like they are the only ones that count instead of sharing peace and goodwill towards their fellow man, woman, or child. Fights over the better parking spot, watching where you are walking, and the common courtesies that we were taught as children no longer applies. Fighting over the last "it" toy, grabbing stuff from other's carts, and knocking over people to reach the rack seem to humor those working in the store. Well, that is until you are responsible of ringing up their stuff. Then it seems like the days we have spent dealing with those that work at the DMV. After the battle to get the best deal, people walk out of those stores feeling quite spent. In fact, they seem to forget that there are other people trying to get to where they need to go. In their shopping induced haze, they wander aimlessly in front of those that just want to get the shopping experience over with. Wow, if there was absolutely zero concern for the safety of their fellow man, there would be carnage as far as the eye can see. No, but you will see a vast number of people cussing and flipping the finger. I guess that is the new way to spread the holiday spirit.
Fortunately, the major department stores decided to throw Christmas in our faces that much earlier. Door buster sales started as soon as the first of November, Christmas decorations were put up right after the Halloween rush. A certain radio station in the Chicago area decided that to further put you in the Christmas spirit would start playing Christmas music, 24/7, since the day after Halloween. Probably sooner, but I rarely seek out holiday music on the radio before an actual holiday. Nice to know that overkill is becoming an acceptable practice. While it is a reasonable request to be better prepared for the upcoming holiday, I would appreciate a little more honest advertising.
Last week, Macy's was having a sale on winter coats. Something in the area of $60 coats selling for $15. Advertised as a one day sale should be a major draw for people to come in. DD was in need of a new winter coat, so the timing was relatively ideal that there was a sale. Little did we know, that the sale was for only 4 hours. Being denied to purchase the coat during that time because DD thinks I have horrific fashion sense (and not sure what size she really needed), I was required to wait. Apparently, it was a stipulation from DH that the money handed to me to get said coat required to wait to drag child in tow after school. I giggled as I had to report to DH that the money he handed me was not enough to get her coat, but it was his lucky day that I had a few dollars in my wallet to cover the difference. Sorry, Bud, no change for you... I did share with him that if I was allowed to purchase the necessities in my time frame, we would be saving money, but alas, since giving DH the big boy pill about our finances I am still the scapegoat for why money is so tight. Happy holidays to me!
With Christmas just around the corner, I wince with anticipation that I will have to do the Christmas shopping. I hate shopping. I would rather get a root canal than deal with the holiday crowds. Maybe, if I drag DH to these overcrowded shopping meccas, he might actually take my advice and just get gift cards....
Monday, November 21, 2011
Feeling a bit defeated at getting deflated...
Every woman on this planet always has something to complain about. I should know, I have plenty of them bouncing around in my head. Now, I know I promised a while back (January to more accurate) that I would not drag you into my personal hell over weight loss and my desire to get back to my "fighting weight". Yep, that bakery on my frame is suffocating that thin person I know is inside me. Desperate to set skinny me out... I joined weight watchers with a renewed sense of hope that I can get there. Money that we really cannot spare is being spent to fulfill my dream and achieve that goal, so the drive is there, or so I thought. So sorry I broke my promise. You have the choice to stop here and wait for a different topic to be shared. Hopefully, you find it in your heart to stay.
Obviously, my efforts are being thwarted by denying myself anything and everything remotely enjoyable. Denial for too long boils well beyond the control phase and suddenly one cookie is not enough. Yep, I exceeded my control point and created a 3 pound weight gain in a week. Now, I know that if you do not weigh yourself at the same time every week, you will see fluctuations. I should know. Today's weigh in was in the afternoon after having breakfast and lunch consumed. Even a snack was in the mix. Now, I know that a few cookies are not the end-all-be-all of my battle of the bulge, but somehow that damn scale made me feel like I was defeated at getting deflated (aka gaining instead of losing). Feeling quite beaten down, I have been battling a nasty cold and a round of back spasms for the past few days. Darn hormones cause water weight gain every month and I am smack in the middle of a major water retention phase, too. I know that next week, I will do better. I just hate that I have to claw, scrape and fight my way back down. 16 weeks in and nowhere near where I wanted to be. Being knocked a few pegs back is no way to face the challenges of the holidays. Being vulnerable is what is going to make me take a nose dive off the weight watchers train and I cannot let that happen. If that happens, DH will blow a gasket over what we have spent to partake in the world of weight watching. That damn scale is my enemy and food is the catalyst for failure. Darn picky eaters are making my journey a boring one and I am losing focus fast. What to do... what to do....
Hitting the gym during the cold and flu season is a recipe for disaster for me and already being under the weather is no driving force to run in the hamster wheel called the treadmill. I like to avoid the germ-infested place where workout junkies refuse to stay home when they are sick to see them sweat all over the equipment. Too cold to enjoy the outdoors and feeling too tired after a few early mornings of back spasms to get the energy to do much else than Lysol my home so when family comes over for Thanksgiving, they won't catch a cold from us. I would be really miffed if my in-laws blame me for more than they already do.
I guess I need to get a grip and get over what the scale says first. Then I need to get a major attitude adjustment because I wanted to smack that woman at weight watchers and all her supposed "helpful hints" and reminders to just keep trying. Believe me, honey, I know what to do. What I think I would prefer to do is just get my jaw wired shut until March. Then I can avoid, with virtually zero effort, all the weight gaining holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Valentines Day) and lose the weight I desperately want to lose. You know, food made liquid in a blender does make its appeal that much less... hahaha! Knowing that is not an elective procedure and I am not up for getting my jaw broken, I guess I need to take a Midol and get over it... Grrr...
Tomorrow is a new day, right? Just gotta remember to forget feeling vulnerable and start over.
Obviously, my efforts are being thwarted by denying myself anything and everything remotely enjoyable. Denial for too long boils well beyond the control phase and suddenly one cookie is not enough. Yep, I exceeded my control point and created a 3 pound weight gain in a week. Now, I know that if you do not weigh yourself at the same time every week, you will see fluctuations. I should know. Today's weigh in was in the afternoon after having breakfast and lunch consumed. Even a snack was in the mix. Now, I know that a few cookies are not the end-all-be-all of my battle of the bulge, but somehow that damn scale made me feel like I was defeated at getting deflated (aka gaining instead of losing). Feeling quite beaten down, I have been battling a nasty cold and a round of back spasms for the past few days. Darn hormones cause water weight gain every month and I am smack in the middle of a major water retention phase, too. I know that next week, I will do better. I just hate that I have to claw, scrape and fight my way back down. 16 weeks in and nowhere near where I wanted to be. Being knocked a few pegs back is no way to face the challenges of the holidays. Being vulnerable is what is going to make me take a nose dive off the weight watchers train and I cannot let that happen. If that happens, DH will blow a gasket over what we have spent to partake in the world of weight watching. That damn scale is my enemy and food is the catalyst for failure. Darn picky eaters are making my journey a boring one and I am losing focus fast. What to do... what to do....
Hitting the gym during the cold and flu season is a recipe for disaster for me and already being under the weather is no driving force to run in the hamster wheel called the treadmill. I like to avoid the germ-infested place where workout junkies refuse to stay home when they are sick to see them sweat all over the equipment. Too cold to enjoy the outdoors and feeling too tired after a few early mornings of back spasms to get the energy to do much else than Lysol my home so when family comes over for Thanksgiving, they won't catch a cold from us. I would be really miffed if my in-laws blame me for more than they already do.
I guess I need to get a grip and get over what the scale says first. Then I need to get a major attitude adjustment because I wanted to smack that woman at weight watchers and all her supposed "helpful hints" and reminders to just keep trying. Believe me, honey, I know what to do. What I think I would prefer to do is just get my jaw wired shut until March. Then I can avoid, with virtually zero effort, all the weight gaining holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Valentines Day) and lose the weight I desperately want to lose. You know, food made liquid in a blender does make its appeal that much less... hahaha! Knowing that is not an elective procedure and I am not up for getting my jaw broken, I guess I need to take a Midol and get over it... Grrr...
Tomorrow is a new day, right? Just gotta remember to forget feeling vulnerable and start over.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Resistance is futile...
All the necessary precautions were taken, Lysol Disinfectant is my cologne, alcohol-based hand sanitizer is attached to my hip and is used all the time and all of that failed this morning....
4am was the waking hour with the double-whammy that I was not happy to see happen.... Nasty back spasm hits and my sinuses were so clogged that the only way I was getting oxygen in my lungs was by my mouth. Dry and crusted over lips that felt if I was to move them, they would crack off. Now, isn't that a pretty look to have... not! I get up to venture into the kitchen for something to drink, grab my Aleve and pop two of them in my mouth. With a hard swallow (since I hate pills), I manage to get them down. I grab my trusty pillow and venture to my downstairs to turn on the TV to distract my raging thoughts about the pain in my back. After about an hour writhing in odd stretches that only Gumby can manage to try to loosen the knot in my lower back I notice that the Aleve is not helping my back, but it magically releasing the swelling in my sinuses. Who knew that the strongest OTC pain reliever chooses to alleviate the lesser of the two evils first.... Lazy.. humph! One unexpected, but good sneeze ends up in a required shirt change. Feeling quite gross, I go back into the kitchen and find my ice pack to see if that will help soothe the spasm that woke me up in the first place. Just gotta love those infomercials they offer at that hour on a Sunday morning. Without them, I would have no reason to snicker and laugh at the terrible acting they offer. The over dramatization is completely laughable.
Almost 4 hours of "quiet time" mixed with agony and the rest of the family starts to wake up from their slumber. Sigh, this mom has to put on the "I feel great" face and act like I am a superwoman, ready for the day's activities. You know, they don't cook or clean... only me. With less than a week away from Thanksgiving, we still have to go grocery shopping to pick up all that we need for that day. Yep, I am having family over. I actually look forward to Thanksgiving because for some odd reason, I go through this phase that I like cooking. Normally, I hate it because I am bored. Picky eaters offer less options if what to cook from day-to-day. Believe me, I will probably loathe the days before and after, but when T-day comes, I have excitement pouring through my veins. I can't sleep the night before, but crash real easily after. I am like Ralphie and his brother on A Christmas Story. Racing down the stairs in excitement and ready to face the day. Once the dust settles, (and the wrapping paper is shredded), I am unconscious on the floor. I just hate that my "down time" for being sick needs to be on hold. Way too much needed to be done and with my poor planning skills.... not enough time in the day. Hopefully, this cold is just a fluke and remains at a low level of disabling a determined person like myself. Once Thanksgiving is over, then it can slam me into the ground like it usually does. Heck, it can drag me down to its lowest point just before Christmas. I hate dividing my time between two families anyway.
Maybe, and I am thinking just maybe..... DH will take pity on me about being sick and do all the Christmas shopping... HAHAHAHAHA!!!! The day that happens.... I would have to take DH in for a cat scan because there would have to be something seriously wrong with him to offer to do any shopping alone. That, or some evil scientist made a clone of a man I thought I married. Either way, it still would be an appreciated surprise to me. Sadly, it would be a short lived one.... A girl can dream, right?
Well, blogging about the challenges I face today (going grocery shopping, knowing it is going to be insane today with family in tow), the list I need to make of what I need to remind myself to take care of because I will forget, and fight my first cold of the season in secret from DH and DD (because that is what supermom's do... never stop working... even for a cold)... is not going to get anything done any sooner....
So.....
Have a great day everyone!!
4am was the waking hour with the double-whammy that I was not happy to see happen.... Nasty back spasm hits and my sinuses were so clogged that the only way I was getting oxygen in my lungs was by my mouth. Dry and crusted over lips that felt if I was to move them, they would crack off. Now, isn't that a pretty look to have... not! I get up to venture into the kitchen for something to drink, grab my Aleve and pop two of them in my mouth. With a hard swallow (since I hate pills), I manage to get them down. I grab my trusty pillow and venture to my downstairs to turn on the TV to distract my raging thoughts about the pain in my back. After about an hour writhing in odd stretches that only Gumby can manage to try to loosen the knot in my lower back I notice that the Aleve is not helping my back, but it magically releasing the swelling in my sinuses. Who knew that the strongest OTC pain reliever chooses to alleviate the lesser of the two evils first.... Lazy.. humph! One unexpected, but good sneeze ends up in a required shirt change. Feeling quite gross, I go back into the kitchen and find my ice pack to see if that will help soothe the spasm that woke me up in the first place. Just gotta love those infomercials they offer at that hour on a Sunday morning. Without them, I would have no reason to snicker and laugh at the terrible acting they offer. The over dramatization is completely laughable.
Almost 4 hours of "quiet time" mixed with agony and the rest of the family starts to wake up from their slumber. Sigh, this mom has to put on the "I feel great" face and act like I am a superwoman, ready for the day's activities. You know, they don't cook or clean... only me. With less than a week away from Thanksgiving, we still have to go grocery shopping to pick up all that we need for that day. Yep, I am having family over. I actually look forward to Thanksgiving because for some odd reason, I go through this phase that I like cooking. Normally, I hate it because I am bored. Picky eaters offer less options if what to cook from day-to-day. Believe me, I will probably loathe the days before and after, but when T-day comes, I have excitement pouring through my veins. I can't sleep the night before, but crash real easily after. I am like Ralphie and his brother on A Christmas Story. Racing down the stairs in excitement and ready to face the day. Once the dust settles, (and the wrapping paper is shredded), I am unconscious on the floor. I just hate that my "down time" for being sick needs to be on hold. Way too much needed to be done and with my poor planning skills.... not enough time in the day. Hopefully, this cold is just a fluke and remains at a low level of disabling a determined person like myself. Once Thanksgiving is over, then it can slam me into the ground like it usually does. Heck, it can drag me down to its lowest point just before Christmas. I hate dividing my time between two families anyway.
Maybe, and I am thinking just maybe..... DH will take pity on me about being sick and do all the Christmas shopping... HAHAHAHAHA!!!! The day that happens.... I would have to take DH in for a cat scan because there would have to be something seriously wrong with him to offer to do any shopping alone. That, or some evil scientist made a clone of a man I thought I married. Either way, it still would be an appreciated surprise to me. Sadly, it would be a short lived one.... A girl can dream, right?
Well, blogging about the challenges I face today (going grocery shopping, knowing it is going to be insane today with family in tow), the list I need to make of what I need to remind myself to take care of because I will forget, and fight my first cold of the season in secret from DH and DD (because that is what supermom's do... never stop working... even for a cold)... is not going to get anything done any sooner....
So.....
Have a great day everyone!!
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
The classes.....
Watching the morning news made me remember that we, the people, are far from equal. No, it is not a racial thing that I am talking about... It is a financial thing....
What all people seem to know is that there are 3 classes. I am going to share with you that there is a 4th class that people tend to overlook.
You see, we all know that there is a rich class, a poor class and a middle class. The rich is... well, rich. They have control over more than we think. They are on the pulse of what happens in this economy because they have all the money... well, most of it. Then there is the poor. Those people do absolutely nothing and get free stuff... call it the Government Cheese. You have to be pretty broke to get to this class; no job, no money, but if you play the game right... you can get it all for free or as close to free as possible. They seem to forget that their Government Cheese is supplied from the blood, sweat and tears of the middle class. The middle class works at a thankless job for barely enough to get by, in constant fear of losing their miserable job, and pays way too much in taxes. They are required to buy their own stuff with what money they get after Uncle Sam gouges their wages. They are honest folks, hard working, and humble people. Well, a maybe a little ticked off that they can't save for their future because the cost of living... you know, supporting their family and thousands of people they never met because the middle class is the pack mule to support everyone on their backs from hard work and taxes.... The middle class.... one paycheck above poverty level.
Now comes that elusive and exclusive 4th class..... The pseudo-rich class. Haven't heard of this class? Well, you should have. They are the lobbyists, politicians, and upper management of fortune 500 companies. They make a decent wage, but get perks that only the rich get to have. Basically, they are those that control the petty cash box as if it is their own personal piggy bank that never gets empty. They have the means, the know how and the money to bend the rules in their favor.
You know, I am not devoted to one political party. All of them are dysfunctional. They are elected under false pretenses and become something less than what you bargained for. Good Old Obama promised change and in some twisted way like Rumpelstiltskin's way of granting wishes, we, the middle class, are the fortunate few that just might have some spare change to cover the bills at the end of the month. Some, not as fortunate, but if you have a penny in your pocket or laying in the couch cushions... you are living Obama's American Dream. Nice, huh?
Think about it... Our president is a perfect example of being a pseudo-rich that definitely got the golden horseshoe for the past 4 years. Hopefully, he loses that horseshoe and is not blessed with lady luck to get another 4 years. He makes a decent wage that he does not need to spend because of his "fame", he gets free housing, free food, free clothes, and last, but not least.... free vacations whenever he chooses to. Technically, it is not free, but in his world (and his wife's), it is. Of course, the Obama family gets the Cart Blanche treatment because he is currently our president. Uneducated voters and the Electoral College, along with the mainstream media, made that happen. I cried when he was elected. Not of happiness, but out of fear. Call me psychic, but everyone knew he had barely any job experience to take on that position. Heck, he was not even on the radar when he was elected Senator for Illinois. My fears of being royally screwed came true that day he took oath and the mainstream media made it newsworthy that he was going to get his daughters a dog, as promised, if he got elected. I found it comical that he never rescued a dog from a shelter, he got a purebred dog as a gift.... Go pseudo-rich class, right? How nice would that life be, huh? Get paid and get everything for free.
I guess that is why that class is so elusive that it is not an anyone's radar. It is also exclusive because you do get fame, but not the kind like movie stars. Once you are out of the limelight, you are forgotten. Now, there are some pseudo-rich that stay under the radar, but still get all the perks. CEO's, CFO's Management of those fortune 500 companies, lobbyists, and non-famous politicians get similar perks. It is all in how they acquire it. It can be in pay raises, company cars, "extended" business trips, retirement plans and bonuses. It is their stealth-like abilities that offer that "bend over" screwing that people get angry about. Some are obvious "things that make a person go... hmmm" actions like I saw on the news today. Hearing that the city of Chicago is increasing the cost of fines to cover their deficit from years of mismanagement. In other words.... too many hands in the cookie jar depleted the cash box. Call on the cash cow working class to cover the bill... This is no way a solution. These few increases made me wonder if these pseudo-rich are trying to oust every person less fortunate than them out of this great land to make it an acquired island for the rich to buy for their own private getaway. Increases on parking in the city, increases in fines for lack of weed control, loud stereos, parking tickets, and the rest became a blur made me feel really sorry for those that will have to pay because their honesty makes them do so. I just wonder if I should start holding my breath because with all these increases in taxes and fines going to who knows when we just might be taxed on the air we breathe.
So please take a moment to bask in the glory that there is still a middle class to speak of. Being a middle class citizen, our days are numbered, I know, but at least we will go down fighting. So hats off to you that elusive 4th class.... Your money mismanagement record is finally going to kill off the one class that carries the load. I wonder... aren't you a little scared that your cash cow is dying off?
What all people seem to know is that there are 3 classes. I am going to share with you that there is a 4th class that people tend to overlook.
You see, we all know that there is a rich class, a poor class and a middle class. The rich is... well, rich. They have control over more than we think. They are on the pulse of what happens in this economy because they have all the money... well, most of it. Then there is the poor. Those people do absolutely nothing and get free stuff... call it the Government Cheese. You have to be pretty broke to get to this class; no job, no money, but if you play the game right... you can get it all for free or as close to free as possible. They seem to forget that their Government Cheese is supplied from the blood, sweat and tears of the middle class. The middle class works at a thankless job for barely enough to get by, in constant fear of losing their miserable job, and pays way too much in taxes. They are required to buy their own stuff with what money they get after Uncle Sam gouges their wages. They are honest folks, hard working, and humble people. Well, a maybe a little ticked off that they can't save for their future because the cost of living... you know, supporting their family and thousands of people they never met because the middle class is the pack mule to support everyone on their backs from hard work and taxes.... The middle class.... one paycheck above poverty level.
Now comes that elusive and exclusive 4th class..... The pseudo-rich class. Haven't heard of this class? Well, you should have. They are the lobbyists, politicians, and upper management of fortune 500 companies. They make a decent wage, but get perks that only the rich get to have. Basically, they are those that control the petty cash box as if it is their own personal piggy bank that never gets empty. They have the means, the know how and the money to bend the rules in their favor.
You know, I am not devoted to one political party. All of them are dysfunctional. They are elected under false pretenses and become something less than what you bargained for. Good Old Obama promised change and in some twisted way like Rumpelstiltskin's way of granting wishes, we, the middle class, are the fortunate few that just might have some spare change to cover the bills at the end of the month. Some, not as fortunate, but if you have a penny in your pocket or laying in the couch cushions... you are living Obama's American Dream. Nice, huh?
Think about it... Our president is a perfect example of being a pseudo-rich that definitely got the golden horseshoe for the past 4 years. Hopefully, he loses that horseshoe and is not blessed with lady luck to get another 4 years. He makes a decent wage that he does not need to spend because of his "fame", he gets free housing, free food, free clothes, and last, but not least.... free vacations whenever he chooses to. Technically, it is not free, but in his world (and his wife's), it is. Of course, the Obama family gets the Cart Blanche treatment because he is currently our president. Uneducated voters and the Electoral College, along with the mainstream media, made that happen. I cried when he was elected. Not of happiness, but out of fear. Call me psychic, but everyone knew he had barely any job experience to take on that position. Heck, he was not even on the radar when he was elected Senator for Illinois. My fears of being royally screwed came true that day he took oath and the mainstream media made it newsworthy that he was going to get his daughters a dog, as promised, if he got elected. I found it comical that he never rescued a dog from a shelter, he got a purebred dog as a gift.... Go pseudo-rich class, right? How nice would that life be, huh? Get paid and get everything for free.
I guess that is why that class is so elusive that it is not an anyone's radar. It is also exclusive because you do get fame, but not the kind like movie stars. Once you are out of the limelight, you are forgotten. Now, there are some pseudo-rich that stay under the radar, but still get all the perks. CEO's, CFO's Management of those fortune 500 companies, lobbyists, and non-famous politicians get similar perks. It is all in how they acquire it. It can be in pay raises, company cars, "extended" business trips, retirement plans and bonuses. It is their stealth-like abilities that offer that "bend over" screwing that people get angry about. Some are obvious "things that make a person go... hmmm" actions like I saw on the news today. Hearing that the city of Chicago is increasing the cost of fines to cover their deficit from years of mismanagement. In other words.... too many hands in the cookie jar depleted the cash box. Call on the cash cow working class to cover the bill... This is no way a solution. These few increases made me wonder if these pseudo-rich are trying to oust every person less fortunate than them out of this great land to make it an acquired island for the rich to buy for their own private getaway. Increases on parking in the city, increases in fines for lack of weed control, loud stereos, parking tickets, and the rest became a blur made me feel really sorry for those that will have to pay because their honesty makes them do so. I just wonder if I should start holding my breath because with all these increases in taxes and fines going to who knows when we just might be taxed on the air we breathe.
So please take a moment to bask in the glory that there is still a middle class to speak of. Being a middle class citizen, our days are numbered, I know, but at least we will go down fighting. So hats off to you that elusive 4th class.... Your money mismanagement record is finally going to kill off the one class that carries the load. I wonder... aren't you a little scared that your cash cow is dying off?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The hardest talk I ever had.....
This morning, I ended up having the hardest talk I ever had with my daughter.
My daughter and I have a relationship that can only be described as strained. I see way too much of myself in her. Even though there are parts of her that definitely resemble her father, I know that she is more like me than her father.
This morning was like any ordinary morning when school is in session. The school year is well nearing its halfway point and the desire for a break is strong. Usually, the complaints of being sick start rolling in and the begging to stay home for the day is at its highest. I should know this all to well because I was her age once and I am no fool for the tricks for sympathy from Mom and Dad. Sadly, my parents had some practice over this routine. Being the youngest of 4 kids, I never had a fighting chance to fake an illness for a free day of watching TV and to be catered to. My parents were smart when I figured they would be clueless. Hey, it only took until I had a child of my own to realize how smart my parents were.
Well, as I confront DD with her "ailments" and hearing her pleas for a day off from school, an argument commences and I got to hear that all-too-well rehearsed ploy for sympathy. Hearing her complain about how tough it is being a preteen and having such tough parents that tend to embarrass her. Oh, how life is so rough! I even asked if she was making excuses because of possible bullying. Somehow, the morning news shared yet another story of a child being bullied to death... literally, and I wondered if that was the case. The answer was a relieving... "no", but she does have an issue with boys staring at her with "goo-goo eyes" (as she coins it). Other than that, she feels that she is fat and not popular. I started to laugh and that is when the argument commences.... The competition of who had it worse being a preteen.
Something snapped in my head and I started telling her things that she should never be privy to, but somewhere in the rule book of parenting I proceed to tell her how her life is so much easier than mine. Recalling the events of my 5 year stint of being bullied and how it took for a friend to be tormented after my ignoring the teases and taunts resulted in that bully finding a new victim made me snap and beat the living snot out of him finally ended the bullying once and for all... Suddenly, letting out that little tidbit of my past opened the floodgates of all those terrible memories I have managed to suppress; the pain, the sadness, the disappointment. Remembering that life is an endless battle for what you believe in and the constant need for love and respect. Trying to come to terms that even though my life was no bed of roses, I start to remember how my Mom had things way rougher than I. She is a survivor of child abuse. As being a mother, we try to offer better than what we had as children. Life is not supposed to be easy, but it can be better. As the old saying goes.... Only the strong survive. The proof is in how you take on life's challenges. I think she realized that is true from the surprise on her face at how hard things have been for me and how I seem to be so well adjusted with it all. She must think I am some kind of robot to still be able to offer a smile and a kind word even after I get less than that from others.
As the childhood stories come pouring out, suddenly I am spewing out the misery that is happening in the present. How my perceptions of what married life is supposed to be like becoming something completely the opposite. The way I changed after getting married and becoming a parent resulting in a very lonely existence. How this once semi-confident person became needy of attention or at least recognition from the one I am married to. The workaholic husband that prefers to stay away from home instead of being a part of the family dynamic. The defiant child that thinks I do not understand anything and can be played as a fool. My failed attempts of making everyone happy that is in my life. My in-laws loathe me, but in a nice way (or so they think). This list goes on and on...
Realizing that I am far weaker than I thought, I start to cry. That is something I prefer to hide from everyone. Usually, I keep that kind of emotion under wraps; saving that for when nobody is looking. It is far easier to put on a brave face and fight than become weak and cry. As my father told me as a child that crying is a sign of weakness that people should never see, I feel that I even failed making my father proud today.
As I shared my disappointments in life with my daughter, I became that scared little girl standing in front of me. Believe me, I know what she is going through. I was there once.
Well, once all the dust settled from the morning events, I watched as my daughter tried to get ready for school. Suddenly, I hear the gentle wheeze of her asthma flaring up. I grabbed her hand, set up her nebulizer for a breathing treatment, called the doctor, made an appointment and called the school..... My daughter is home sick today.
My daughter and I have a relationship that can only be described as strained. I see way too much of myself in her. Even though there are parts of her that definitely resemble her father, I know that she is more like me than her father.
This morning was like any ordinary morning when school is in session. The school year is well nearing its halfway point and the desire for a break is strong. Usually, the complaints of being sick start rolling in and the begging to stay home for the day is at its highest. I should know this all to well because I was her age once and I am no fool for the tricks for sympathy from Mom and Dad. Sadly, my parents had some practice over this routine. Being the youngest of 4 kids, I never had a fighting chance to fake an illness for a free day of watching TV and to be catered to. My parents were smart when I figured they would be clueless. Hey, it only took until I had a child of my own to realize how smart my parents were.
Well, as I confront DD with her "ailments" and hearing her pleas for a day off from school, an argument commences and I got to hear that all-too-well rehearsed ploy for sympathy. Hearing her complain about how tough it is being a preteen and having such tough parents that tend to embarrass her. Oh, how life is so rough! I even asked if she was making excuses because of possible bullying. Somehow, the morning news shared yet another story of a child being bullied to death... literally, and I wondered if that was the case. The answer was a relieving... "no", but she does have an issue with boys staring at her with "goo-goo eyes" (as she coins it). Other than that, she feels that she is fat and not popular. I started to laugh and that is when the argument commences.... The competition of who had it worse being a preteen.
Something snapped in my head and I started telling her things that she should never be privy to, but somewhere in the rule book of parenting I proceed to tell her how her life is so much easier than mine. Recalling the events of my 5 year stint of being bullied and how it took for a friend to be tormented after my ignoring the teases and taunts resulted in that bully finding a new victim made me snap and beat the living snot out of him finally ended the bullying once and for all... Suddenly, letting out that little tidbit of my past opened the floodgates of all those terrible memories I have managed to suppress; the pain, the sadness, the disappointment. Remembering that life is an endless battle for what you believe in and the constant need for love and respect. Trying to come to terms that even though my life was no bed of roses, I start to remember how my Mom had things way rougher than I. She is a survivor of child abuse. As being a mother, we try to offer better than what we had as children. Life is not supposed to be easy, but it can be better. As the old saying goes.... Only the strong survive. The proof is in how you take on life's challenges. I think she realized that is true from the surprise on her face at how hard things have been for me and how I seem to be so well adjusted with it all. She must think I am some kind of robot to still be able to offer a smile and a kind word even after I get less than that from others.
As the childhood stories come pouring out, suddenly I am spewing out the misery that is happening in the present. How my perceptions of what married life is supposed to be like becoming something completely the opposite. The way I changed after getting married and becoming a parent resulting in a very lonely existence. How this once semi-confident person became needy of attention or at least recognition from the one I am married to. The workaholic husband that prefers to stay away from home instead of being a part of the family dynamic. The defiant child that thinks I do not understand anything and can be played as a fool. My failed attempts of making everyone happy that is in my life. My in-laws loathe me, but in a nice way (or so they think). This list goes on and on...
Realizing that I am far weaker than I thought, I start to cry. That is something I prefer to hide from everyone. Usually, I keep that kind of emotion under wraps; saving that for when nobody is looking. It is far easier to put on a brave face and fight than become weak and cry. As my father told me as a child that crying is a sign of weakness that people should never see, I feel that I even failed making my father proud today.
As I shared my disappointments in life with my daughter, I became that scared little girl standing in front of me. Believe me, I know what she is going through. I was there once.
Well, once all the dust settled from the morning events, I watched as my daughter tried to get ready for school. Suddenly, I hear the gentle wheeze of her asthma flaring up. I grabbed her hand, set up her nebulizer for a breathing treatment, called the doctor, made an appointment and called the school..... My daughter is home sick today.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Remembering and appreciating....
Growing up with a veteran was something I never took for granted. My Dad fought in WWII. 103rd Infantry Division - Army. I remember interviewing my Dad about his service as a project for school when it came to learning about someone that played a big part of my life. My Dad was my hero, and still is. When it came to days of remembrance, like Veterans Day, I seemed to notice a more somber side of my Dad and being so young, I never really put much thought into it. Well, that was until I got older, I learned a little more that increased my appreciation for things. You see, I never experienced death because of war like my Dad did, nor have I ever stepped forward into the line of fire.
Looking back, I wondered why my Dad was so intrigued with the History Channel on TV. Watching recorded accounts of a war long past was something I never shown interest in. I would figure that fighting a war would be the last thing that you would want to remember, but I do know that it is something that you never forget. Witnessing such violence towards people that become your family away from family scars a person. Little did I know, it was something my Dad held close to his heart because even though he was blessed to return home from his tour of duty, he had a hard time dealing with the fact that his own brother died fighting in the same war. You see, back then, people did not willingly enlist to fight in a war. They were drafted. Now, my Dad being the eldest of two boys was the one selected for the draft to fight in the war. His brother, being younger than him was not drafted, but was determined to take part. After getting permission from their mother, he was able to enlist and join the fight. Even though it was in the best interest to keep his brother behind because if my father was to never return, there would still be a son to carry on the family name. That alone should have been reason to not go willingly into war, but my uncle did not see that as the deciding factor to stay behind. The odds of returning home were 50/50. In my Dad's case, that rang true. Two boys went to war and only one returned. Yes, I am saddened that I had an uncle that I would never get to know, but blessed that my father returned because... without him... I would have never existed.
The appreciation for those who served comes from my Dad. That interview I did on him, oh so many years ago, taught me much more than I could have ever learned in a classroom. There was no glamour in war. Fear and determination was the driving force to trudge forward, but it was those back at home that made their efforts worth it. Fighting in a war was never just about them. It was about protecting the ones they loved. For love of country, its people and the freedoms that every person holds dear. Their faith in God was the cornerstone to keep strong, swift and safe. People willingly sacrificed their lives to protect others. No, they never desired to be labeled heroes, but they had the blood of heroes running through their veins. Without them fighting for us and the greater good, we would have far less freedoms to appreciate. Sadly, we tend to not really see the the greatness of those liberties that we have bestowed upon us. The whole concept of things we take for granted is more common than we think. Well at least we have that one day to take pause, reflect and be thankful for those heroes that never saw them as anything other than equals.... Veterans Day.
Veterans Day is just one day to most, but for me it is an everyday thing because of my Dad. I am thankful for him well beyond his service to this country. I am thankful that he was my Dad. 10 years have passed since his death. He knew things beyond what others seem to know and I learned so much from him. He experienced things that we would never want to experience and he appreciated every moment of his life. As like all those that survived the strife of battle, those who perished, and those who answered the call the enlist that still believe in this great nation.... for the love of man, woman, child and country.... they never saw themselves as heroes, but I do. My Dad was a hero and that is all that matters to me..... What about you?
Looking back, I wondered why my Dad was so intrigued with the History Channel on TV. Watching recorded accounts of a war long past was something I never shown interest in. I would figure that fighting a war would be the last thing that you would want to remember, but I do know that it is something that you never forget. Witnessing such violence towards people that become your family away from family scars a person. Little did I know, it was something my Dad held close to his heart because even though he was blessed to return home from his tour of duty, he had a hard time dealing with the fact that his own brother died fighting in the same war. You see, back then, people did not willingly enlist to fight in a war. They were drafted. Now, my Dad being the eldest of two boys was the one selected for the draft to fight in the war. His brother, being younger than him was not drafted, but was determined to take part. After getting permission from their mother, he was able to enlist and join the fight. Even though it was in the best interest to keep his brother behind because if my father was to never return, there would still be a son to carry on the family name. That alone should have been reason to not go willingly into war, but my uncle did not see that as the deciding factor to stay behind. The odds of returning home were 50/50. In my Dad's case, that rang true. Two boys went to war and only one returned. Yes, I am saddened that I had an uncle that I would never get to know, but blessed that my father returned because... without him... I would have never existed.
The appreciation for those who served comes from my Dad. That interview I did on him, oh so many years ago, taught me much more than I could have ever learned in a classroom. There was no glamour in war. Fear and determination was the driving force to trudge forward, but it was those back at home that made their efforts worth it. Fighting in a war was never just about them. It was about protecting the ones they loved. For love of country, its people and the freedoms that every person holds dear. Their faith in God was the cornerstone to keep strong, swift and safe. People willingly sacrificed their lives to protect others. No, they never desired to be labeled heroes, but they had the blood of heroes running through their veins. Without them fighting for us and the greater good, we would have far less freedoms to appreciate. Sadly, we tend to not really see the the greatness of those liberties that we have bestowed upon us. The whole concept of things we take for granted is more common than we think. Well at least we have that one day to take pause, reflect and be thankful for those heroes that never saw them as anything other than equals.... Veterans Day.
Veterans Day is just one day to most, but for me it is an everyday thing because of my Dad. I am thankful for him well beyond his service to this country. I am thankful that he was my Dad. 10 years have passed since his death. He knew things beyond what others seem to know and I learned so much from him. He experienced things that we would never want to experience and he appreciated every moment of his life. As like all those that survived the strife of battle, those who perished, and those who answered the call the enlist that still believe in this great nation.... for the love of man, woman, child and country.... they never saw themselves as heroes, but I do. My Dad was a hero and that is all that matters to me..... What about you?
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