Friday, July 29, 2011
Made My Day
Can You Hear Me Now???....GOOD!
We live in a world where you are either plugged in, hooked up, online or dead. If you're not talking, texting, emailing, instant messaging, tweeting, blogging, video chatting, or facebooking (yes, I believe Urban Dictionary has recently acquired the new verb) then you are probably sleeping (or like I said before..dead). Our permanent state of being seems to be measured by gigabytes and it appears that the new measuring stick of success is measured by the number of FB friends and followers. I'm not condemning; I'm merely commenting at this point. So given that it takes more effort to be "one with nature" and disconnected than it does to communicating on 3 devices, internationally, simultaneously why is that we still seem to be so unaware? So clueless? So doomed to riding a descending vortex into a black hole of oblivion?
As complicated those questions may seem, the answer is rather simple....We are what We want and We want an excuse.
If you've ever answered someone with "I didn't know about that/him/it/her" or "I wasn't aware that's how you felt" then what you are really saying is "I didn't care and / or want to know," perhaps even "I couldn't be bothered."
Let's face it, not one of us (in comparison to all of us) is consistently busier, more important or more stressed than every one of us. For a period of time, you may be able to cite the catch-all umbrella of " overwhelming circumstances," but you should know that even though we may verbally sympathize we are still not subscribing to your issues; we're not buying what you're selling (mostly because we have enough of our own shit already).
If it's been days...maybe even weeks and you still haven't gotten around to returning that phone call or replying to that email or "liking" that FB post it is not because the cosmic planets have aligned against you and are now taking over your life..... It is simply because you can't be bothered or you do not actually want to respond. Regardless of your delusional thinking, you were NOT born that way, you were NOT raised that way and it is NOT okay. If you have a history of easily and readily avoiding things and people at YOUR CONVENIENCE then it is probably because no one has bothered to call you out on your inconsiderate, self-absorbed tendency because it has become expected of you...and that's just really sad and disconcerting.
Like I said, I'm not criticizing because as much as I'd like to think and say otherwise, I am guilty of pleading this convenient social, physical, and mental state of perpetual preoccupation and it is just crap.I know it. You know.
Now can we all please just stop pretending to care and own that although we are all entitled to live within on our bubbles for brief periods of time and for "just cause," to continue to do so is a selfish and rather sad coping mechanism.
I am guilty as charged....but am hoping after much self-reflection & introspection to get released on parole for good behavior and reformation.
As complicated those questions may seem, the answer is rather simple....We are what We want and We want an excuse.
If you've ever answered someone with "I didn't know about that/him/it/her" or "I wasn't aware that's how you felt" then what you are really saying is "I didn't care and / or want to know," perhaps even "I couldn't be bothered."
Let's face it, not one of us (in comparison to all of us) is consistently busier, more important or more stressed than every one of us. For a period of time, you may be able to cite the catch-all umbrella of " overwhelming circumstances," but you should know that even though we may verbally sympathize we are still not subscribing to your issues; we're not buying what you're selling (mostly because we have enough of our own shit already).
If it's been days...maybe even weeks and you still haven't gotten around to returning that phone call or replying to that email or "liking" that FB post it is not because the cosmic planets have aligned against you and are now taking over your life..... It is simply because you can't be bothered or you do not actually want to respond. Regardless of your delusional thinking, you were NOT born that way, you were NOT raised that way and it is NOT okay. If you have a history of easily and readily avoiding things and people at YOUR CONVENIENCE then it is probably because no one has bothered to call you out on your inconsiderate, self-absorbed tendency because it has become expected of you...and that's just really sad and disconcerting.
Like I said, I'm not criticizing because as much as I'd like to think and say otherwise, I am guilty of pleading this convenient social, physical, and mental state of perpetual preoccupation and it is just crap.I know it. You know.
Now can we all please just stop pretending to care and own that although we are all entitled to live within on our bubbles for brief periods of time and for "just cause," to continue to do so is a selfish and rather sad coping mechanism.
I am guilty as charged....but am hoping after much self-reflection & introspection to get released on parole for good behavior and reformation.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Late Night First Name Fun...
FIRST NAME
Come on! You know the K-grade kid in you wants to!
Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real . . . nothing made up! You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.
1. What is your name: Shana
2. A four Letter word: Sale
3. A boy's name: Shawn
4. A girl's name: Serena
5. An occupation: Sailor
6. A color: Saffron
7. Something you wear: in an abstract sense: Sarcasm
8. A food: Salmon
9. Something found in a bathroom: St. Ives Green Tea Scrub
10. A place: South America
11. A reason for being late: Sex
12. Something to shout: SURPRISE!!!
13. A movie title: Secondhand Lions
14. Something to drink: Sweet Tea
15. A musical group: Sugarland
16. An animal: Sparrow
17. A street name: Scotland Yard
18. A type of car: Saab or my Sante Fe
19. A song title: (Sittin On) The Dock of the Bay
20. A verb:Savvy
Come on! You know the K-grade kid in you wants to!
Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real . . . nothing made up! You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.
1. What is your name: Shana
2. A four Letter word: Sale
3. A boy's name: Shawn
4. A girl's name: Serena
5. An occupation: Sailor
6. A color: Saffron
7. Something you wear: in an abstract sense: Sarcasm
8. A food: Salmon
9. Something found in a bathroom: St. Ives Green Tea Scrub
10. A place: South America
11. A reason for being late: Sex
12. Something to shout: SURPRISE!!!
13. A movie title: Secondhand Lions
14. Something to drink: Sweet Tea
15. A musical group: Sugarland
16. An animal: Sparrow
17. A street name: Scotland Yard
18. A type of car: Saab or my Sante Fe
19. A song title: (Sittin On) The Dock of the Bay
20. A verb:Savvy
Monday, June 27, 2011
I'm so sick of the [...]
Alright ladies (not said to exclude the gentlemen),
Put your Casey Anthony trial madness on pause (or DVR). I have recently refrained from posting on that particular media blitzkrieg because I refuse to support their endeavors to streamline a waste of tax payers dollars. I will say this much on the subject: It is absolutely ironic that so many of our beloved daytime soap operas are being cancelled because of ratings / the economy, only to be replaced by that slut-hoe bag-dead beat murdering mom. I would much rather tune into the latest Sonny-Carly-Brenda love/hate triangle on General Hospital than see our judicial system (which I choose to be intimately connected with professionally) made into an international mockery. Move over OJ, Casey Anthony Chaos has officially usurped your outlandish and outrageous trial. K, moving on.
How many of your follow The Bachelorette? If you don't already, I'll do you a favor and NOT recommend this season as a cherry-popper. For those of you out there whom, like myself, are completely glutton-for-punishment and willing to lose valuable and irreplaceable IQ points every week by tuning into Ashley's pathetic and borderline masochistic tendencies, I lament with you....I really, really do. In honor of her absolutely self-inflicted daytime TV wanna-be melodrama this post will be riddled with the infamously obnoxious " [. . .]" (DOT, DOT, DOT brought to you courtesy of the asshole Bentley).
Out of all of the guys in the world and the nice selection on the show... you had to fall for Bentley?!?! WTF? Seriously girl, YOU GOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU DESERVED. You were warned (although I will admit Michelle isn't the most credible source) and even if you hadn't been, what girl falls for his BS... dot, dot, dot MY ASS. I'm pretty sure last week I counted you saying his name at least 15 times and this was AFTER you traveled to Thailand with a group of amazing dudes. It would serve you right if they caught the next plane out of Tokyo this week and left you to your own seriously disturbed masochistic personality. Brad ditched your ass because you wanted him to write everything in blood and commit his first born child to you on your first date because you just could not fathom how he could really come to care and possibly love you. (Just for the record, we all know he was nowhere near in love with Ashley and God help him if that had been the case). So you got "dumped" on the first Bachelor because you needed more...more reassurances...more time...more communication...more EVERYTHING. Brad gave you a lot more time and showed more patience with you than ANYONE in a similar situation would. I had to fast-forward through your conversations with him because I was so annoyed by your insecurities.
So, can someone please explain how-in-the-hell, someone like you, with your issues, your hangups, your insecurities fall for a total and complete bullshitting Bentley....At no point did the game he was spitting remotely come close to plausible (forget it being believable)... You are such a sad, sad little girl. If you didn't annoy the shit out of me, I would almost be able to muster up some pity for you...ONLY IF...
So you got played (AGAIN)...Only this time you actually deserve it. You have wasted weeks on a dude who honestly didn't think you were worth the free airtime he was getting ragging on you on national TV....NICE! Okay, it is a bit hypocritical and an oxymoron to put a reference to Bentley and Honesty in the same sentence...or is it??? I mean, technically, playing Devil's Advocate, having the technically Charlie Rose trained advocate pop up...He was pretty damn honest with us (the viewers); He just played Ashley's gullible ass.
I was bitching about how I was so sick of hearing you say his name and couldn't understand why you were so hung up on someone you barely knew or had the time to have isolated, in-depth conversations with....then my husband (probably for the 2nd time in our brief marriage) piped up and said..."duh...he fucked her....why else would she be such a fucking hot mess right now." OH MY GOD...no he didn't just say that!?!
Damn!
Shit!
Fuckin' A!
I hate it when he's right (luckily that rarely happens)! So Ashley, dear Ashley....you gave it up to Bentley. No, that's not a question...it's a statement. I don't know whether to say shame on you or good for you...but DAMN GIRL! Have some pride...if you're going to let "him hit and quit it" (LMAO, not that I would ever endorse that mentality), then at least save your TV face and do not under any circumstances mope about like Cinderella's two step-sisters and step-mother after the shoe fit.
Alright...bitch session over...mystery solved...props paid to my very cute and observant husband...and post posted (you're welcome Winer Griner).
Let me guess, after Bentley...you're going to set your all too-narrow eyes on the Ridiculous and Ridiculed Ryan...God, you leave nothing to the imagination.
Good luck Ashley, you're going to need because no self-respecting guy is going to watch this season playback and still commit to marrying a hot mess like you, especially when you're bananas for Bentley and only decide to pay any attention to the rest of the guys when he shoots you down...AGAIN!
XoXo,
Shana
Put your Casey Anthony trial madness on pause (or DVR). I have recently refrained from posting on that particular media blitzkrieg because I refuse to support their endeavors to streamline a waste of tax payers dollars. I will say this much on the subject: It is absolutely ironic that so many of our beloved daytime soap operas are being cancelled because of ratings / the economy, only to be replaced by that slut-hoe bag-dead beat murdering mom. I would much rather tune into the latest Sonny-Carly-Brenda love/hate triangle on General Hospital than see our judicial system (which I choose to be intimately connected with professionally) made into an international mockery. Move over OJ, Casey Anthony Chaos has officially usurped your outlandish and outrageous trial. K, moving on.
How many of your follow The Bachelorette? If you don't already, I'll do you a favor and NOT recommend this season as a cherry-popper. For those of you out there whom, like myself, are completely glutton-for-punishment and willing to lose valuable and irreplaceable IQ points every week by tuning into Ashley's pathetic and borderline masochistic tendencies, I lament with you....I really, really do. In honor of her absolutely self-inflicted daytime TV wanna-be melodrama this post will be riddled with the infamously obnoxious " [. . .]" (DOT, DOT, DOT brought to you courtesy of the asshole Bentley).
Out of all of the guys in the world and the nice selection on the show... you had to fall for Bentley?!?! WTF? Seriously girl, YOU GOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU DESERVED. You were warned (although I will admit Michelle isn't the most credible source) and even if you hadn't been, what girl falls for his BS... dot, dot, dot MY ASS. I'm pretty sure last week I counted you saying his name at least 15 times and this was AFTER you traveled to Thailand with a group of amazing dudes. It would serve you right if they caught the next plane out of Tokyo this week and left you to your own seriously disturbed masochistic personality. Brad ditched your ass because you wanted him to write everything in blood and commit his first born child to you on your first date because you just could not fathom how he could really come to care and possibly love you. (Just for the record, we all know he was nowhere near in love with Ashley and God help him if that had been the case). So you got "dumped" on the first Bachelor because you needed more...more reassurances...more time...more communication...more EVERYTHING. Brad gave you a lot more time and showed more patience with you than ANYONE in a similar situation would. I had to fast-forward through your conversations with him because I was so annoyed by your insecurities.
So, can someone please explain how-in-the-hell, someone like you, with your issues, your hangups, your insecurities fall for a total and complete bullshitting Bentley....At no point did the game he was spitting remotely come close to plausible (forget it being believable)... You are such a sad, sad little girl. If you didn't annoy the shit out of me, I would almost be able to muster up some pity for you...ONLY IF...
So you got played (AGAIN)...Only this time you actually deserve it. You have wasted weeks on a dude who honestly didn't think you were worth the free airtime he was getting ragging on you on national TV....NICE! Okay, it is a bit hypocritical and an oxymoron to put a reference to Bentley and Honesty in the same sentence...or is it??? I mean, technically, playing Devil's Advocate, having the technically Charlie Rose trained advocate pop up...He was pretty damn honest with us (the viewers); He just played Ashley's gullible ass.
I was bitching about how I was so sick of hearing you say his name and couldn't understand why you were so hung up on someone you barely knew or had the time to have isolated, in-depth conversations with....then my husband (probably for the 2nd time in our brief marriage) piped up and said..."duh...he fucked her....why else would she be such a fucking hot mess right now." OH MY GOD...no he didn't just say that!?!
Damn!
Shit!
Fuckin' A!
I hate it when he's right (luckily that rarely happens)! So Ashley, dear Ashley....you gave it up to Bentley. No, that's not a question...it's a statement. I don't know whether to say shame on you or good for you...but DAMN GIRL! Have some pride...if you're going to let "him hit and quit it" (LMAO, not that I would ever endorse that mentality), then at least save your TV face and do not under any circumstances mope about like Cinderella's two step-sisters and step-mother after the shoe fit.
Alright...bitch session over...mystery solved...props paid to my very cute and observant husband...and post posted (you're welcome Winer Griner).
Let me guess, after Bentley...you're going to set your all too-narrow eyes on the Ridiculous and Ridiculed Ryan...God, you leave nothing to the imagination.
Good luck Ashley, you're going to need because no self-respecting guy is going to watch this season playback and still commit to marrying a hot mess like you, especially when you're bananas for Bentley and only decide to pay any attention to the rest of the guys when he shoots you down...AGAIN!
XoXo,
Shana
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I'm Back!!!
My apologies for the very few of you who follow this post (mostly Cuz Cuz) and family LOL. For a lack of a better excuse, I have just been lazy. But along with all the other things I'm trying to get accomplished, I will add posting a couple of times a week (no guarantees, and in reality it'll probably only be once a week).
Here are some things that haven't changed:
OSAMA BIN LADEN
Finally he's dead. We hope.
Amazingly, it only took us about 20 years of exploiting his hatred to champion the causes of our elite upper class, and government to finally decide that he lost his usefulness to them and their wealth increasing causes. Every President in the last 3 decades should be ashamed of themselves. Pakistan may have given him a place to stay, but we've always allowed him his own safe-haven. That's a fact. Don't kid yourself in believing otherwise.
The fact some computer somewhere is violating my privacy and flagging this post as I type, because I typed Terror and Bin Laden, on proves my point that if we (meaning the 2% of our population that controls 90% of our economy and gov't) at any given point truly wanted him dead... this would be old news.
AMERICAN IDOL
Pia and her 6-head was shocked by her elimination. Good vocals but really needed a stylist to cover the helicopter landing pad, AKA her forehead. She played it safe and got ditched. So long.
I miss Thia, but she just didn't have charisma. Amazing tone, but no movement, no spunk.
Jacob's flamboyance cost him the competition. Gays are great...but your viewing demographic are young, southern, probably mostly conservatives. Recognize! Which also explains why SCOTTY not a hottie and Lauren are still in this competition. WTF!
Scotty is a joke! He's a redneck rapper want-to-be. You know the kind; the kind that overexaggerates gestures from the 1980's (thinking they are killing it). America...we can do better than this.
Lauren, is cute....although absolutely high some shows. She can't seem to focus on anything Ryan says or asks her, which probably explains why he doesn't bother trying anymore. Also, she cuts off every single high note. She doesn't have enough breath or confidence to hold it. Sorry southern sister, you gots to go...and grow up.
My pick to win it is a toss up. I know the non-sensical teeny boppers are going to push for Scotty and Lauren and probably get the help of some tone-deaf, corny elderly votes too. I really like Haley...her voice is totally unique and she's really been put through the ringer by the viewers and judges. She does her, and does it well, however, I don't think she's very mainstream. I'm going with the obvious pick of James Durbin because he is a real performer and talent. I'm not hugely a fan of the songs he chooses but he does them well.
So.... James it is.
K peoples, That's all for now...but stay tuned.
Here are some things that haven't changed:
- Obama is still the official president and Hilary and Michelle are still running the country.
- We are still fighting the War Against Terrorism in the usual hot spots and are campaigning (making up shit) to expand to Pakistan.
- To the detriment of everyone health care and gas prices are still in turmoil.
- We currently still only have 50 official states in the Union and 8 recognized planets in the Universe.
- Lindsey Lohan is out (wait 2 seconds).. now back in rehab.
- It's still hot as hell in Florida and Love Bugs are still the most annoying seasonal plague EVER (Thank you very much, University of Florida...assholes).
- Walking two flights of stairs multiple times a day to our pad still blows.
- My BP is still high; tolerance low.
- My favorite color is still Black.
THE ROYAL WEDDING
Good-Bye Waity Katey...Hello Duchess of Cambridge. Kudos girl. I'm so happy for you that all that plotting and planning by your gold digging mother, and semi-stalking by you, finally paid off. What can I say about The Royal Wedding??? Well, after weeks of Lifetime, E, and Bravo specials, I think I know everything I could and would ever want to know about the royal family, royal palaces, royal guard, royal traditions, royal cermonies, royal expectations, and royal familiar failures. Here's hoping your marriage fares better than the last several Winsor marriages, for your sake. I, on the other hand, would quite enjoy watching another scandal unfold. For now, Catherine, you should focus on produces "An heir and a spare."
Comments on the wedding,
The hats were off-the-chain...both in a good and bad way.
Loved, loved, loved seeing Posh and Becks, and Elton.
Missed seeing Fergie in all of her absolutely ridiculous, shameful glory (Note: Her two tasteless daughters were good stand-ins).
The dress was simple and elegant and timeless. Alexander Mcqueen's staff delivered.
The ceremony was cute. I could have down without all the fair alter boys singing soprano...just gives me CNN Catholic Church Breaking News of more Ass Raped Alter Boys.
Prince Harry was as expected...untraditional and uninhibited (which of course, I liked).
I think the Queen smirked (not quite smile)....until the royal make-out session of the balcony. The two kisses wouldn't really qualify as PDF here, but were practically a scandal there.
All-in-all, I'm glad I watched it and I'm glad it's over. If I may leave all of you (and future brides) with one piece of parting wisdom...NEVER dress your hot sister, in a gorgeous, figure hugging, steal the show, ivory Alexander Mcqueen, neck plunging gown. Never do it. Just don't.
OSAMA BIN LADEN
Finally he's dead. We hope.
Amazingly, it only took us about 20 years of exploiting his hatred to champion the causes of our elite upper class, and government to finally decide that he lost his usefulness to them and their wealth increasing causes. Every President in the last 3 decades should be ashamed of themselves. Pakistan may have given him a place to stay, but we've always allowed him his own safe-haven. That's a fact. Don't kid yourself in believing otherwise.
The fact some computer somewhere is violating my privacy and flagging this post as I type, because I typed Terror and Bin Laden, on proves my point that if we (meaning the 2% of our population that controls 90% of our economy and gov't) at any given point truly wanted him dead... this would be old news.
AMERICAN IDOL
Pia and her 6-head was shocked by her elimination. Good vocals but really needed a stylist to cover the helicopter landing pad, AKA her forehead. She played it safe and got ditched. So long.
I miss Thia, but she just didn't have charisma. Amazing tone, but no movement, no spunk.
Jacob's flamboyance cost him the competition. Gays are great...but your viewing demographic are young, southern, probably mostly conservatives. Recognize! Which also explains why SCOTTY not a hottie and Lauren are still in this competition. WTF!
Scotty is a joke! He's a redneck rapper want-to-be. You know the kind; the kind that overexaggerates gestures from the 1980's (thinking they are killing it). America...we can do better than this.
Lauren, is cute....although absolutely high some shows. She can't seem to focus on anything Ryan says or asks her, which probably explains why he doesn't bother trying anymore. Also, she cuts off every single high note. She doesn't have enough breath or confidence to hold it. Sorry southern sister, you gots to go...and grow up.
My pick to win it is a toss up. I know the non-sensical teeny boppers are going to push for Scotty and Lauren and probably get the help of some tone-deaf, corny elderly votes too. I really like Haley...her voice is totally unique and she's really been put through the ringer by the viewers and judges. She does her, and does it well, however, I don't think she's very mainstream. I'm going with the obvious pick of James Durbin because he is a real performer and talent. I'm not hugely a fan of the songs he chooses but he does them well.
So.... James it is.
K peoples, That's all for now...but stay tuned.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Dear Myspace....
Dear Myspace,
I am writing for multiple reasons, but may I start back offer you my deepest and most insincere apologies for losing a great portion of your members (and thereby, advertisers) to Facebook. That Harvard kid had no idea when he was stealing some Frat Guys' ideas that he was also gunning straight for you. Oh well, it was good while it lasted, right? Anyways, sorry you've had your ass handed to you in the past couple of years.
Speaking of having your ass handed to you....are you aware of all of the the threats and pending lawsuits that you are facing lately? I heard from a little birdie (more like 1000s) that you have been engaging in some fraudulent and corrupt actions. Shame on you! Really, SHAME ON YOU!I'm not one to believe in idol gossip, although I won't deny feeling internally grateful that I cancelled my account over 2 years ago, as to avoid the scandal and media meltdown that has become your not-so-hot reputation. Being newly admitted to law school and still of the nonchalant, be and let be undergrad mentality, I was remiss in practicing due diligence and actually confirming (for the second time) that you did, in fact (not just in theory), remove my profile within the allotted 1-3 day period. SHAME ON ME! You can only imagine my surprise (among other feelings) when my husband informs over years later that you did not delete my account and have been using my ignorance to keep you membership numbers up, in a pathetic attempt to keep you advertisers in black, about you heading toward being in the red. How dare you! Seriously, HOW DARE YOU???
Not only was I always a reluctant myspace member (mostly joining out of peer / social / media pressure and out of pure curiosity), but I was an unimpressed one to boot. Your site was complicated and lacked any sort of functionality for the average multitasking person, who didn't bother lowering their social status by taking more than the required computer science courses. Given that I actually did you a favor by joining in the first place (because let's face it, with FB on the horizon, lord knows you needed every moron you could get), I can't for the life of me figure out what would make you think that I would tolerate you violating my Constitutional rights, by not closing my account, when requested and confirmed the first time, second or third time. You have heard of the Constitution, right? That silly old document that protects my right to privacy and right to choose??? Perhaps you should Google it. You won't have to read very far...the first couple of articles should do it.
Where were we? Yes, after my third attempt to close this worthless site, I realize that my lack of computer skills is not the problem. Rather, it's your lack of an actual customer service department or any living human beings to complain to. Never fear, I got a bit crafty and although you seem to lack in employees your legal department seems well staffed....hmmm, I wonder why??? After three fully failed attempts to delete my account, 6 emails to every email address associated with your site (that was available to the public) and 2 very direct, succinct, and informative voice messages to your legal department, my profile was taken down. ABOUT DAMN TIME!
As it turns out, I'm not the only disgruntled member (although since I managed to escape, I now will no longer acknowlege my lapse in judgment). According to your own FAQ page and help link, you should be worried..very worried. Apparently, (as I've recently been informed) you are not legally allowed to advertize on people's page without providing them with compensation...perhaps something to do with intellectual / property rights AND just compensation for any form of imminent domain. I could make a decent argument that you hijacking my site for your own purposes and basically trying to own it through prescription (as if that is possible) could be considered...a taking of property and you should know that no court seems keen on allowing that kind of behavior. Myspace, are you a squatter???
I don't think I'm the only one that is on to you, because last time I checked their were over 500 complaints for this very issue on your own website, for all of the world to see. I would love to see what people on other sites, that you don't own, and therefore can't edit, are saying about you. Last time I checked, there were even a couple of people initating a class action against you, asking for anybody with a similar claim to sign on (free of legal fees, btw). Just for the record...they have my number.
Here's a clue: Game over. FB (and I) won. You lost. You basically are the new Napster...wait, is that reference even worth making, since most of my generation and those behind me don't even remember that intellectual property thief??? Well, perhaps the movie Social Network, clued them in....LMAO...that's right! FB even has their own movie. That really does suck for you!
Anyways, again, sorry for your losses (all of them: past, present, and future) and although I probably won't be seeing you in court, I can't wait to read about your case(s).
Sincerely,
Shana
(Formerly Known as Wildturkey84@myspace.com)
I am writing for multiple reasons, but may I start back offer you my deepest and most insincere apologies for losing a great portion of your members (and thereby, advertisers) to Facebook. That Harvard kid had no idea when he was stealing some Frat Guys' ideas that he was also gunning straight for you. Oh well, it was good while it lasted, right? Anyways, sorry you've had your ass handed to you in the past couple of years.
Speaking of having your ass handed to you....are you aware of all of the the threats and pending lawsuits that you are facing lately? I heard from a little birdie (more like 1000s) that you have been engaging in some fraudulent and corrupt actions. Shame on you! Really, SHAME ON YOU!I'm not one to believe in idol gossip, although I won't deny feeling internally grateful that I cancelled my account over 2 years ago, as to avoid the scandal and media meltdown that has become your not-so-hot reputation. Being newly admitted to law school and still of the nonchalant, be and let be undergrad mentality, I was remiss in practicing due diligence and actually confirming (for the second time) that you did, in fact (not just in theory), remove my profile within the allotted 1-3 day period. SHAME ON ME! You can only imagine my surprise (among other feelings) when my husband informs over years later that you did not delete my account and have been using my ignorance to keep you membership numbers up, in a pathetic attempt to keep you advertisers in black, about you heading toward being in the red. How dare you! Seriously, HOW DARE YOU???
Not only was I always a reluctant myspace member (mostly joining out of peer / social / media pressure and out of pure curiosity), but I was an unimpressed one to boot. Your site was complicated and lacked any sort of functionality for the average multitasking person, who didn't bother lowering their social status by taking more than the required computer science courses. Given that I actually did you a favor by joining in the first place (because let's face it, with FB on the horizon, lord knows you needed every moron you could get), I can't for the life of me figure out what would make you think that I would tolerate you violating my Constitutional rights, by not closing my account, when requested and confirmed the first time, second or third time. You have heard of the Constitution, right? That silly old document that protects my right to privacy and right to choose??? Perhaps you should Google it. You won't have to read very far...the first couple of articles should do it.
Where were we? Yes, after my third attempt to close this worthless site, I realize that my lack of computer skills is not the problem. Rather, it's your lack of an actual customer service department or any living human beings to complain to. Never fear, I got a bit crafty and although you seem to lack in employees your legal department seems well staffed....hmmm, I wonder why??? After three fully failed attempts to delete my account, 6 emails to every email address associated with your site (that was available to the public) and 2 very direct, succinct, and informative voice messages to your legal department, my profile was taken down. ABOUT DAMN TIME!
As it turns out, I'm not the only disgruntled member (although since I managed to escape, I now will no longer acknowlege my lapse in judgment). According to your own FAQ page and help link, you should be worried..very worried. Apparently, (as I've recently been informed) you are not legally allowed to advertize on people's page without providing them with compensation...perhaps something to do with intellectual / property rights AND just compensation for any form of imminent domain. I could make a decent argument that you hijacking my site for your own purposes and basically trying to own it through prescription (as if that is possible) could be considered...a taking of property and you should know that no court seems keen on allowing that kind of behavior. Myspace, are you a squatter???
I don't think I'm the only one that is on to you, because last time I checked their were over 500 complaints for this very issue on your own website, for all of the world to see. I would love to see what people on other sites, that you don't own, and therefore can't edit, are saying about you. Last time I checked, there were even a couple of people initating a class action against you, asking for anybody with a similar claim to sign on (free of legal fees, btw). Just for the record...they have my number.
Here's a clue: Game over. FB (and I) won. You lost. You basically are the new Napster...wait, is that reference even worth making, since most of my generation and those behind me don't even remember that intellectual property thief??? Well, perhaps the movie Social Network, clued them in....LMAO...that's right! FB even has their own movie. That really does suck for you!
Anyways, again, sorry for your losses (all of them: past, present, and future) and although I probably won't be seeing you in court, I can't wait to read about your case(s).
Sincerely,
Shana
(Formerly Known as Wildturkey84@myspace.com)
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
And The Emmy (or in this case, The Final Rose) for Best Performance Goes to....
Brad Womack- old school, country boy, charming womanizer, desperate to settle down with the "right" girl, who got an undeserving bad rep (and introductory slap from Chantal) for following his "good judgment" OR just a blind as a bat, typical male suffering from Blondie blinders, who thinks with the wrong head? You be the judge. I think he's just glutton for punishment of the worst kind.
So I may not be a fan of Sex and the City, but my husband and I do (well, did) watched The Bachelor every week at 8:30ish on Monday.* I had watched The Bachelor religiously for the first season then sporadically over the past 9 seasons. Actually, the last time I tuned into the Rose Garden, as I commonly refer to it, was when Brad was weeding his way through for the first time; pun intended...duh. I really couldn't decide if I liked him or not, but had convinced myself that he would pick Deanna, so I quickly sought mindless entertainment elsewhere (Hello, my fist pumping friends from the Jersey Shore!). Just Imagine my surprise when I turn on The Bachelor again for the start of its 10th Season and there's Brad again. Guess him and D didn't work out? Pity, but at least now I have a chance to get to know this eligible man and of course decide who I think he should end up with.
We all know the show isn't about finding true love or it wouldn't still be airing every week, since its track record for producing successful relationships (let alone marriages) is 3 out of 10. If that was really what they were all about then I'd seriously suggest that the give Patty (the heart wielding, kick you in the balls and tell you to smile Millionaire Match Maker) a little ring-a-ding-ding. However, that's not necessary because the show really seeks to provide Americans with eye candy and allow the viewer to determine who is so obviously in love (even though it's only been a few weeks, maybe even only a few days) and who is so blatantly a gold digger and media whore. Needless-to-say, I never shy away from eye candy or the chance to prove my match making foresight by selecting "The One" for somebody else. Watching from the beginning of this season, I actually really got into the whole thing (as did Rapha, even though he'll never admit to any of this).
To make a long story short and get you up until the last episode where the two final girls meet Brad's family we pretty much agreed on the following summations:
Alli: you could spot her grill from any space station and she could probably beat Brad in an arm-wrestling competition.
Ashley H: Damn Gina! Look at the T Banks 5-head. For someone so confident she sure needed a hug every two seconds.
Ashley S: Please tell me why at 26 years old you're worried that you're never going to find true love because you think something is wrong with you??? I mean, I agree, something is wrong with you but it's not being single. Give yourself some time to grow up, you are just too immature.
Britt: OMG ABC (and Disney) could you please give this girl a cracker. Please! She needs food, ASAP, there's a possibility for a gust of 5 mph winds to blow her away.
J, Jill, Keltie, Kimberly, Lacey, Lauren, Brittinee, Christy, Lisa P, Rebecca, Renee, Rachel, Sarah L, Sarah P: Who are these girls? The fact that I don't remember them should give you a clue as to how they fared on the show. But really...WHO ARE THESE GIRLS?
Shawntel: You're a sweetheart, but the whole Crypt-Keeper motif is enough to scare off Stephen King. You really have to get out of the mortuary...literary.
Melissa: Too damn old to act so damn childish. Good riddance.
Michelle: This girl is good. I mean not only does she talk shit, threaten, and manipulate EVERYONE in the house (especially Brad) but then she actually does a good enough job to have Chris defending her and her fake crocodile tears at the reunion. Why is it that the biggest bitches are the first to bawl when called out??? She was sooo upset about the reviews of her cast mates (which the ones who called her out were spot on) that she was sobbing....well, can you call it sobbing when not a single, solitaire tear actually falls? Just wondering. I wish I could cry so effectively...on cue. That might actually come in handy.
Stacey: You called it like you saw it, in true New England style. Can't fault you there.
Madison: Nice fangs! I was hoping she'd sink her teeth into someone, but apparently she was just a sheep in wolf's clothing. Such a let down.
Lisa M: Reminded me of a tree-hugging, go green girl, the kind that would enjoy walking the Appalachian Trail for 6-8 months out of the year. Way too genuinely sweet for this kind of competition.
Lindsay: The girl was about as self-conscious as they came. Always trying to hide the fact that she was bigger than the other girls and probably a fire crotch. Not-for-nothing, because I have the same issues, but if you want to compete, get over it.
Down to two: Chantal and Emily.
Chantal: Out of all the crazies, and Lord knows with Michelle in the mix there were some crazies, you seemed to be the most sincere. But seriously, how sincere could you possibly have been since you had just gotten out of the divorce and were madly in love with someone else before The Final Rose Reunion took place? Regardless, you were our pick, and I think Mr. Womack is definitely regretting tossing your butt to the curb right about now (given his and Emily's final interview).
Just to be clear, I'm on Team Chantal, but the Final Rose went to the girl who played her cards and the game the best, Emily. I gotta hand it to her, I really do. At first I thought Emily was the obvious choice that would be why she wouldn't win, because after already having gone through this process once, Brad would be way too smart to fall for the typical, big boob, doe-eyed, southern, down of the farm, prom queen, even with the addition sob-story, woe is me accessory. I mean she came in wearing a fitted black gown and went out wearing an appropriate and suggestive white one. BOY WAS I WRONG. He fell for her subtle theatrics, hook, line and sinker.
You'd think at some point he'd catch a clue. Okay, so her HS sweetheart died, but even if he didn't how many people actually end up with their HS sweethearts and are ACTUALLY HAPPY? Supposedly they were also not only deliriously happy but engaged, as well? I'm confused about that one, because coming from a Nascar infatuated family I know the Ricky Hendricks was engaged, but it wasn't to her, so apparently between the age of 16-19 (when he died) he apparently had time to fall in love twice, propose twice and get Emily knocked up. So much for all those values she pretends to have. I also love how she still can be considered a "kept woman" even though he is long since dead...did you see her house on the hometown visit episode? Nice, very nice. Thank you Team Hendricks, for taking care of your son's baby mama. I won't even go into the fact that Emily is also a notch on Dale Jr.'s belt...post mortem of ex fiance...so being at the track didn't bother her badly enough to be a groupie for a different sport. FYI Emily, if you would have gone for a basketball player, you could have gotten more air time on Basketball Wives. Moving on, I liked how Emily was so private and reserved with Brad and yet his family thought the exact opposite. I mean she did get to spend a few hours with them, that should explain why she was so comfortable with them and not with Brad, who she spent weeks with. It was so sanctimonious of Emily to accept the shared suite with Brad, only after acknowledging her status as a mother and role model, which didn't stop her from doing the dirty. Hope you're Catholic Emily, it'll be a lot easier to get forgiveness for that crock of shit. I wonder how Brad's family felt after watching The Final Rose Reunion where Emily shot down Brad, brutally and repeatedly, even going as far as to say that she would not be willing to marry him at this time, when they specifically asked if she would actually marry Brad, if asked. Finally, the only absolute that Brad gave all the girls was that they would have to relocate to Texas. I suppose Emily was getting her hair and teeth did that day, because even that move seems to be asking too much of her now; she is unwilling to move at this point as well. Not that I can blame her, if my baby's daddy's family was fitting my bill I wouldn't be quick to ditch them either.
I almost feel bad for Brad....ALMOST. Had he not been such a man and fallen for the typical I'm a blonde bombshell, heartbroken, lonely, lady-in-distress routine maybe I'd feel a bit more sympathy, but following your penis doesn't always lead you to greener pastures. In his own words..."Emily, oh sweet little Emily, well, Emily isn't always so sweet. LMAO." Ya think? How sweet can a woman be who will throw your ass under the bus all night long? And yet, you're the dumbass who put the ring on her finger again! Just wondering, but why would you give her the Neil Lane ring again, when 10 minutes earlier she said she wouldn't marry you or move to TX to be in the same region as you. Good luck working on all of those issues, living bi coastal. Serves you right.
Final Thoughts: Emily got a rose and ring, but deserves an Emmy for a job well-done and convincing performance of a virtuous, lonely, innocent baby mama, that must have been hard for a gold digging media whore. To Brad, I guess that final rose had some thorns, huh?
Thank God MTV has signed my meatballs and gorillas up for another season.
I would like to dedicate this particular post to Cuz Cuz, since she is the one who requested it. LOL
*Not by his choice, and yes, we know it starts at 8pm but we dvr it to miss the annoying commercials.
So I may not be a fan of Sex and the City, but my husband and I do (well, did) watched The Bachelor every week at 8:30ish on Monday.* I had watched The Bachelor religiously for the first season then sporadically over the past 9 seasons. Actually, the last time I tuned into the Rose Garden, as I commonly refer to it, was when Brad was weeding his way through for the first time; pun intended...duh. I really couldn't decide if I liked him or not, but had convinced myself that he would pick Deanna, so I quickly sought mindless entertainment elsewhere (Hello, my fist pumping friends from the Jersey Shore!). Just Imagine my surprise when I turn on The Bachelor again for the start of its 10th Season and there's Brad again. Guess him and D didn't work out? Pity, but at least now I have a chance to get to know this eligible man and of course decide who I think he should end up with.
We all know the show isn't about finding true love or it wouldn't still be airing every week, since its track record for producing successful relationships (let alone marriages) is 3 out of 10. If that was really what they were all about then I'd seriously suggest that the give Patty (the heart wielding, kick you in the balls and tell you to smile Millionaire Match Maker) a little ring-a-ding-ding. However, that's not necessary because the show really seeks to provide Americans with eye candy and allow the viewer to determine who is so obviously in love (even though it's only been a few weeks, maybe even only a few days) and who is so blatantly a gold digger and media whore. Needless-to-say, I never shy away from eye candy or the chance to prove my match making foresight by selecting "The One" for somebody else. Watching from the beginning of this season, I actually really got into the whole thing (as did Rapha, even though he'll never admit to any of this).
To make a long story short and get you up until the last episode where the two final girls meet Brad's family we pretty much agreed on the following summations:
Alli: you could spot her grill from any space station and she could probably beat Brad in an arm-wrestling competition.
Ashley H: Damn Gina! Look at the T Banks 5-head. For someone so confident she sure needed a hug every two seconds.
Ashley S: Please tell me why at 26 years old you're worried that you're never going to find true love because you think something is wrong with you??? I mean, I agree, something is wrong with you but it's not being single. Give yourself some time to grow up, you are just too immature.
Britt: OMG ABC (and Disney) could you please give this girl a cracker. Please! She needs food, ASAP, there's a possibility for a gust of 5 mph winds to blow her away.
J, Jill, Keltie, Kimberly, Lacey, Lauren, Brittinee, Christy, Lisa P, Rebecca, Renee, Rachel, Sarah L, Sarah P: Who are these girls? The fact that I don't remember them should give you a clue as to how they fared on the show. But really...WHO ARE THESE GIRLS?
Shawntel: You're a sweetheart, but the whole Crypt-Keeper motif is enough to scare off Stephen King. You really have to get out of the mortuary...literary.
Melissa: Too damn old to act so damn childish. Good riddance.
Michelle: This girl is good. I mean not only does she talk shit, threaten, and manipulate EVERYONE in the house (especially Brad) but then she actually does a good enough job to have Chris defending her and her fake crocodile tears at the reunion. Why is it that the biggest bitches are the first to bawl when called out??? She was sooo upset about the reviews of her cast mates (which the ones who called her out were spot on) that she was sobbing....well, can you call it sobbing when not a single, solitaire tear actually falls? Just wondering. I wish I could cry so effectively...on cue. That might actually come in handy.
Stacey: You called it like you saw it, in true New England style. Can't fault you there.
Madison: Nice fangs! I was hoping she'd sink her teeth into someone, but apparently she was just a sheep in wolf's clothing. Such a let down.
Lisa M: Reminded me of a tree-hugging, go green girl, the kind that would enjoy walking the Appalachian Trail for 6-8 months out of the year. Way too genuinely sweet for this kind of competition.
Lindsay: The girl was about as self-conscious as they came. Always trying to hide the fact that she was bigger than the other girls and probably a fire crotch. Not-for-nothing, because I have the same issues, but if you want to compete, get over it.
Down to two: Chantal and Emily.
Chantal: Out of all the crazies, and Lord knows with Michelle in the mix there were some crazies, you seemed to be the most sincere. But seriously, how sincere could you possibly have been since you had just gotten out of the divorce and were madly in love with someone else before The Final Rose Reunion took place? Regardless, you were our pick, and I think Mr. Womack is definitely regretting tossing your butt to the curb right about now (given his and Emily's final interview).
Just to be clear, I'm on Team Chantal, but the Final Rose went to the girl who played her cards and the game the best, Emily. I gotta hand it to her, I really do. At first I thought Emily was the obvious choice that would be why she wouldn't win, because after already having gone through this process once, Brad would be way too smart to fall for the typical, big boob, doe-eyed, southern, down of the farm, prom queen, even with the addition sob-story, woe is me accessory. I mean she came in wearing a fitted black gown and went out wearing an appropriate and suggestive white one. BOY WAS I WRONG. He fell for her subtle theatrics, hook, line and sinker.
You'd think at some point he'd catch a clue. Okay, so her HS sweetheart died, but even if he didn't how many people actually end up with their HS sweethearts and are ACTUALLY HAPPY? Supposedly they were also not only deliriously happy but engaged, as well? I'm confused about that one, because coming from a Nascar infatuated family I know the Ricky Hendricks was engaged, but it wasn't to her, so apparently between the age of 16-19 (when he died) he apparently had time to fall in love twice, propose twice and get Emily knocked up. So much for all those values she pretends to have. I also love how she still can be considered a "kept woman" even though he is long since dead...did you see her house on the hometown visit episode? Nice, very nice. Thank you Team Hendricks, for taking care of your son's baby mama. I won't even go into the fact that Emily is also a notch on Dale Jr.'s belt...post mortem of ex fiance...so being at the track didn't bother her badly enough to be a groupie for a different sport. FYI Emily, if you would have gone for a basketball player, you could have gotten more air time on Basketball Wives. Moving on, I liked how Emily was so private and reserved with Brad and yet his family thought the exact opposite. I mean she did get to spend a few hours with them, that should explain why she was so comfortable with them and not with Brad, who she spent weeks with. It was so sanctimonious of Emily to accept the shared suite with Brad, only after acknowledging her status as a mother and role model, which didn't stop her from doing the dirty. Hope you're Catholic Emily, it'll be a lot easier to get forgiveness for that crock of shit. I wonder how Brad's family felt after watching The Final Rose Reunion where Emily shot down Brad, brutally and repeatedly, even going as far as to say that she would not be willing to marry him at this time, when they specifically asked if she would actually marry Brad, if asked. Finally, the only absolute that Brad gave all the girls was that they would have to relocate to Texas. I suppose Emily was getting her hair and teeth did that day, because even that move seems to be asking too much of her now; she is unwilling to move at this point as well. Not that I can blame her, if my baby's daddy's family was fitting my bill I wouldn't be quick to ditch them either.
I almost feel bad for Brad....ALMOST. Had he not been such a man and fallen for the typical I'm a blonde bombshell, heartbroken, lonely, lady-in-distress routine maybe I'd feel a bit more sympathy, but following your penis doesn't always lead you to greener pastures. In his own words..."Emily, oh sweet little Emily, well, Emily isn't always so sweet. LMAO." Ya think? How sweet can a woman be who will throw your ass under the bus all night long? And yet, you're the dumbass who put the ring on her finger again! Just wondering, but why would you give her the Neil Lane ring again, when 10 minutes earlier she said she wouldn't marry you or move to TX to be in the same region as you. Good luck working on all of those issues, living bi coastal. Serves you right.
Final Thoughts: Emily got a rose and ring, but deserves an Emmy for a job well-done and convincing performance of a virtuous, lonely, innocent baby mama, that must have been hard for a gold digging media whore. To Brad, I guess that final rose had some thorns, huh?
Thank God MTV has signed my meatballs and gorillas up for another season.
I would like to dedicate this particular post to Cuz Cuz, since she is the one who requested it. LOL
*Not by his choice, and yes, we know it starts at 8pm but we dvr it to miss the annoying commercials.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Preverbial Spring Cleaning
Good evening all...
So it's that time, again. It seems like I have created a tradition of sorts in my life: About a year after HS and College graduation I had an epiphany of sorts, of the type of people in my life, the relationships that I had with these people and the relationship I both wanted and needed to have. At that point, I took the necessary steps to preserve myself and sanity by removing the unwanted and unhealthy "relationships" in my life. I type, "relationships" because it has been my constant experience that in most of the cases of those people who I choose to disassociate with or cease communication, our relationship, if you can even call it that, had become one-sided. I guess I missed the childhood lesson where there was a time line on friendships or that moving away equates to moving on. I've always thought that any person I care enough about to call a friend deserves the best I can offer. I am lazy in many things (especially with going to the gym) but NO ONE can ever truthfully say that I am lazy when it comes to my relationships and friendships.
In fact, I typically lose sleep and am physically impacted by the mere possibility of conflict or problems with those people I care about. It's actually quite frustrating when I can't sleep and "MY FRIEND(s) can't get their head out of their own ass long enough to realize that there is even a problem OR they don't care enough to fix it (which if this is the case then they should have the decency to just say so). NOTHING is more disrespectful that avoiding a problem or person or pretending that it doesn't exist. It's both selfish and rude. I get the why and I've heard the explanations before, but that doesn't change the effect your actions (or in the case, the negative effect your inactions) have on the people around you. Your entitled to your own coping and defense mechanism, but if that is your constant approach to everything, then perhaps that disclaimer should be made, especially if the other people in your life, take the more active approach of a REASONABLE cooling off period followed by actual acknowledgment and action. Call me crazy but I have to agree and respectfully quote Elie Wiesel here:
"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."
By his own account he was not merely referring to the Holocaust. That's a given. He was also referring to the relatively small things in life that people so easily put on a back burner or refuse to acknowledge. He was referring to those people who think that there will always be a tomorrow and that if it's not life or death it can wait. He was referring to people who claim to care about the people in their life but can't be bother to actually CARE about those people in the way that is BEST for them. For quite some time, I've been working on this, along with other things. I have been trying to find a healthy compromise.
However, sometimes the best solution is dissolution. Hence my approximate decadal relationship spring cleaning. It happened in my freshmen year of college. Again in my first year of law school. It's happening again. The whole process is painful. Painful in both obvious and obscure ways. It's hard after caring for so long to 1) realize that the majority of the time you care more for them then they care for you, 2) you can no longer live with that reality, and 3) they probably won't even realize you're gone (let alone miss you companionship). I purposely said "majority of the time" above because I understand that in every relationship, platonic or not, there are going to be moments when one person cares more or at the very least differently than the other and I agree, with most, that this is natural and okay. But, if habitual, it's damning.
To be honest, I have a hard time letting go of mere acquaintances, especially if they have not intentionally done anything to me, so you can imagine, how difficult it is to let go of "friends". I just try to keep in mind that it's not a true and healthy friendship if I'm the only one being a consistent and reliable friend. I'm not perfect. I'm not looking for perfection. I'm not always available but make myself available when needed. I not only believe but endorse what Tyler Perry via Medea says about people and friends in Medea Goes to Jail. He said it better than I ever could:
Comparing People To Trees----------------"Some people come into your life for a lifetime and some come for a season. You have to know which is which. I put everybody that comes into my life in the category of a tree. Some people are leaves on a tree. The wind blows, they go to the left. The wind blows from the other way, they go to the right. They are just unstable. You can't count on them for nothing. All they ever do is take from that tree. What you need to understand about a leaf is that it has a season. It'll wither and die and blow away.There ain't no need to be praying over a leaf to be resurrected. When it's dead it's gone. Let it go! Some people are like that. All the leaf ever does is cool you off every now and then. If you're grown, you know what I'm talking about, because you can call them in the middle of the night and get cooled off. That's the leaf people. They come to take. Then there are people like a branch. You got to be careful with branch people. They come in all different shapes and sizes. You never know how strong they will be in your life. So my advice is to tip out on it slowly. When you're going out on a limb, don't put too much weight on it at once, because it can fall and leave you high and dry. Sometimes, you have to wait for a branch to grow up before it can hold all of the things you want to share with it. Finally, there are people who are like roots at the bottom of the tree. If you find yourself two or three people in your entire lifetime that are like the roots, then you are blessed. The roots don't care nothing about being seen. All they're there to do is hold that tree up, to make sure it stays in the air. It comes from the earth to give that tree everything it needs. That's what relationships should be about. That's what you need, people who want to be in your life for the right reasons. If somebody wants to walk out of your life, you've got to LET THEM GO! When you learn to love yourself, you will end up giving standards to everyone around you. Again, I repeat with emphasis, if they don't meet those standards, you have to let them go, because they might be a leaf. And forgive them with all your might".*
So, as I previously stated, it's that time again. I'm letting "the leaves and flimsy branches" go and holding on to my roots, for which I am undeniably blessed to have. I've been putting it off with hopeful disillusionment, but have come to terms with I'm probably going to be better off, once I successfully distance myself enough to not be bothered by their distance. It's just pathetic that what some people do so easily, I truly trouble with. Like always, this will be a process, just hopefully not a long one. Swift and easy is ideal, but not realistic. I hate having to move on; I hate loss; I hate giving up; I hate change....but I'm looking forward to meeting new people. I'm looking forward to new experiences and memories. I'm essentially purging myself of what's been bad (for me) in hopes that there is better things and better relationships to come.
I would be remiss if I didn't thank those people in my life, that are actually actively in my life, and always have been, who I always want to be. Thank you to you guys (and you know who you are) that I have always counted on and who I sincerely cherish. I do have the privilege and pleasure of calling some of the most amazing people in the world my friends. I also must apologize to these people, My "Roots" because by being so concerned and caught up with the leaves and branches in my life (sometimes confusing them for roots), I may have inadvertently neglected you...which was never my intention, but regardless I am sorry for that.
Take home: Last year, I had 800 friends on Facebook...I've slowly narrowed it down to about 200. That same ratio applies to the people in my phone / life and I'm so much better for it.My goal is no leaves, fewer branches, and maintaining my roots, because I know I have more than anyone one person should be blessed with. I am clearly blessed. And see, I'm already feeling better. :)
*Medea Goes to Jail Clip; worth watching:
http://www.searchgate.com/Madea_Comparing_People_To_Trees_v5572731/
So it's that time, again. It seems like I have created a tradition of sorts in my life: About a year after HS and College graduation I had an epiphany of sorts, of the type of people in my life, the relationships that I had with these people and the relationship I both wanted and needed to have. At that point, I took the necessary steps to preserve myself and sanity by removing the unwanted and unhealthy "relationships" in my life. I type, "relationships" because it has been my constant experience that in most of the cases of those people who I choose to disassociate with or cease communication, our relationship, if you can even call it that, had become one-sided. I guess I missed the childhood lesson where there was a time line on friendships or that moving away equates to moving on. I've always thought that any person I care enough about to call a friend deserves the best I can offer. I am lazy in many things (especially with going to the gym) but NO ONE can ever truthfully say that I am lazy when it comes to my relationships and friendships.
In fact, I typically lose sleep and am physically impacted by the mere possibility of conflict or problems with those people I care about. It's actually quite frustrating when I can't sleep and "MY FRIEND(s) can't get their head out of their own ass long enough to realize that there is even a problem OR they don't care enough to fix it (which if this is the case then they should have the decency to just say so). NOTHING is more disrespectful that avoiding a problem or person or pretending that it doesn't exist. It's both selfish and rude. I get the why and I've heard the explanations before, but that doesn't change the effect your actions (or in the case, the negative effect your inactions) have on the people around you. Your entitled to your own coping and defense mechanism, but if that is your constant approach to everything, then perhaps that disclaimer should be made, especially if the other people in your life, take the more active approach of a REASONABLE cooling off period followed by actual acknowledgment and action. Call me crazy but I have to agree and respectfully quote Elie Wiesel here:
"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."
By his own account he was not merely referring to the Holocaust. That's a given. He was also referring to the relatively small things in life that people so easily put on a back burner or refuse to acknowledge. He was referring to those people who think that there will always be a tomorrow and that if it's not life or death it can wait. He was referring to people who claim to care about the people in their life but can't be bother to actually CARE about those people in the way that is BEST for them. For quite some time, I've been working on this, along with other things. I have been trying to find a healthy compromise.
However, sometimes the best solution is dissolution. Hence my approximate decadal relationship spring cleaning. It happened in my freshmen year of college. Again in my first year of law school. It's happening again. The whole process is painful. Painful in both obvious and obscure ways. It's hard after caring for so long to 1) realize that the majority of the time you care more for them then they care for you, 2) you can no longer live with that reality, and 3) they probably won't even realize you're gone (let alone miss you companionship). I purposely said "majority of the time" above because I understand that in every relationship, platonic or not, there are going to be moments when one person cares more or at the very least differently than the other and I agree, with most, that this is natural and okay. But, if habitual, it's damning.
To be honest, I have a hard time letting go of mere acquaintances, especially if they have not intentionally done anything to me, so you can imagine, how difficult it is to let go of "friends". I just try to keep in mind that it's not a true and healthy friendship if I'm the only one being a consistent and reliable friend. I'm not perfect. I'm not looking for perfection. I'm not always available but make myself available when needed. I not only believe but endorse what Tyler Perry via Medea says about people and friends in Medea Goes to Jail. He said it better than I ever could:
Comparing People To Trees----------------"Some people come into your life for a lifetime and some come for a season. You have to know which is which. I put everybody that comes into my life in the category of a tree. Some people are leaves on a tree. The wind blows, they go to the left. The wind blows from the other way, they go to the right. They are just unstable. You can't count on them for nothing. All they ever do is take from that tree. What you need to understand about a leaf is that it has a season. It'll wither and die and blow away.There ain't no need to be praying over a leaf to be resurrected. When it's dead it's gone. Let it go! Some people are like that. All the leaf ever does is cool you off every now and then. If you're grown, you know what I'm talking about, because you can call them in the middle of the night and get cooled off. That's the leaf people. They come to take. Then there are people like a branch. You got to be careful with branch people. They come in all different shapes and sizes. You never know how strong they will be in your life. So my advice is to tip out on it slowly. When you're going out on a limb, don't put too much weight on it at once, because it can fall and leave you high and dry. Sometimes, you have to wait for a branch to grow up before it can hold all of the things you want to share with it. Finally, there are people who are like roots at the bottom of the tree. If you find yourself two or three people in your entire lifetime that are like the roots, then you are blessed. The roots don't care nothing about being seen. All they're there to do is hold that tree up, to make sure it stays in the air. It comes from the earth to give that tree everything it needs. That's what relationships should be about. That's what you need, people who want to be in your life for the right reasons. If somebody wants to walk out of your life, you've got to LET THEM GO! When you learn to love yourself, you will end up giving standards to everyone around you. Again, I repeat with emphasis, if they don't meet those standards, you have to let them go, because they might be a leaf. And forgive them with all your might".*
So, as I previously stated, it's that time again. I'm letting "the leaves and flimsy branches" go and holding on to my roots, for which I am undeniably blessed to have. I've been putting it off with hopeful disillusionment, but have come to terms with I'm probably going to be better off, once I successfully distance myself enough to not be bothered by their distance. It's just pathetic that what some people do so easily, I truly trouble with. Like always, this will be a process, just hopefully not a long one. Swift and easy is ideal, but not realistic. I hate having to move on; I hate loss; I hate giving up; I hate change....but I'm looking forward to meeting new people. I'm looking forward to new experiences and memories. I'm essentially purging myself of what's been bad (for me) in hopes that there is better things and better relationships to come.
I would be remiss if I didn't thank those people in my life, that are actually actively in my life, and always have been, who I always want to be. Thank you to you guys (and you know who you are) that I have always counted on and who I sincerely cherish. I do have the privilege and pleasure of calling some of the most amazing people in the world my friends. I also must apologize to these people, My "Roots" because by being so concerned and caught up with the leaves and branches in my life (sometimes confusing them for roots), I may have inadvertently neglected you...which was never my intention, but regardless I am sorry for that.
Take home: Last year, I had 800 friends on Facebook...I've slowly narrowed it down to about 200. That same ratio applies to the people in my phone / life and I'm so much better for it.My goal is no leaves, fewer branches, and maintaining my roots, because I know I have more than anyone one person should be blessed with. I am clearly blessed. And see, I'm already feeling better. :)
*Medea Goes to Jail Clip; worth watching:
http://www.searchgate.com/Madea_Comparing_People_To_Trees_v5572731/
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Sex And The City...No Thanks
Alright, in my leisure time, which surprisingly seems to be diminishing rapidly with every "great" self-improvement idea that I have, I decided to hitch a ride on the Sex And the City bandwagon. I admit that since the complete series box set has been available to own for about 2 years, I am a bit late. Anyways, my new favorite distraction (other than this blog, of course) is Netflicks and while scrolling the TV section (actually looking for JAG) I came across Sex And the City. I know it is hard for many to believe, but I can only truthfully claim to have watched 2 1/2 episodes...EVER...and both of the not-so-great movies. So I am vaguely familiar with the "Famously Fab Four." Before you ask, I only went to watch the movies because that was "The Thing To Do" at the time. I don't have a problem taking one for the team, occasionally.
So, after successfully logging in, I ordered the first disc of season 1, a bit miffed that it wasn't available to watch on instant queue. One day later, I'm popping in the phenonmeon expecting to see the 8th Wonder of the World. At first, I thought they may have sent the wrong dvd, because the first episode did little in the way of introductions, but okay. 6 Episodes later, I'm seriously considering whether or not to waste the free posted on round 2 (mind you, I'm still in season 1 of like..10, right?). Whatever. I ordered the damn thing. It comes and goes...way to slow.
Let's see how I can best describe my Sex And the City experience: a bunch of forty-year old, trying to hard, analyzing way too much, sinfully promiscuous women, with a warped since of style so outlandish that it reminds of what Sally (the 2 year old I babysit) looks like when we plan dress-up and she doesn't the outfit coordinating. I may not be obsessed with fashion, like I was with my wedding flowers, but it is not lost on me. Even foward thinking, high fashion can be admired (from a distance). To valididate my credibility, I am a 3 year + subscriber and avid reader of Harper's Bazaar, Elle, Marie Claire, W, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. I do try to escape the Florida bubble of flip-flops, tank tops and yoga pants monthly with those subscriptions. Just like with art and music, I am able to appreciate that which I have no hope of participating in. That should at least entitle me to an opinion, right? Good, I'm glad we agree.
With that said, what the hell is wrong with people? I guess I can slightly comprehend and sympathize with the late 30's, more like 40 somethings escaping the tragedy that has become their lives being fascinating with this show, but I'd like to think that my peers have something better to do? Don't we? I mean, I guess not, but should we really idolize these women and aspire to create their version of happiness, otherwise known as big-city drama???
I like drama. I like sex. I like fashion. I even like protensious people who need more sex, less drama, and better fashion (thus my infactuation with all of the Real Housewives of NY, NJ, OC, Beverly Hills, and ATL). But try as I did, I fell off the SATC bandwagon landing with a hard *thud*. Call me crazy, but I couldn't get past Carrie's mole (WTF...why in the hell did it take her so long to get it removed?); Charlotte's holier than thou indecisiveness and attraction to short, bald, fat men; Samantha's Prada and Prostitution approach to EVERYTHING; and Miranda's overcompensation for being picked on in school for being OCD, fire crotch, Teacher's pet, Have-to-be-acedemically-better-than-everyone because I was never asked out or invited to anything. I know real-life versions of these people and I choose not to engage, so why would I take away from my blog, my top 100 books I still haven't read list, DVR (full of BH 90210, Real Housewives, American Idol, Off The Map, Blue Bloods, and Jersey Shore), my brand new bicycle, equipped with all of the must-have gadgets (Thanks, Rapha) and Anytime Fitness membership (okay, I'm not really complaining about foresaking this one), but I included it just to show my other options???
The simple of fact of the matter, I think I am better off and actually more positively distinguishable for abandoning this terrible idea than suffered through, resenting every moment and mocking every fan. Although I can no longer say I haven't watched SATC (I can still proudly say that about the Star Wars, Harry Potter, Terminator and Lord of the Rings), I believe that with enough alcohol and advil I will successfully put that bad decision behind me....obviously having more time for this blog.
Maybe I'll even get up to four posts a day....well, then again I still have all those shows on my DVR...and NETFLICKS (who does, in fact, have all 10 seasons of JAG). :)
So, after successfully logging in, I ordered the first disc of season 1, a bit miffed that it wasn't available to watch on instant queue. One day later, I'm popping in the phenonmeon expecting to see the 8th Wonder of the World. At first, I thought they may have sent the wrong dvd, because the first episode did little in the way of introductions, but okay. 6 Episodes later, I'm seriously considering whether or not to waste the free posted on round 2 (mind you, I'm still in season 1 of like..10, right?). Whatever. I ordered the damn thing. It comes and goes...way to slow.
Let's see how I can best describe my Sex And the City experience: a bunch of forty-year old, trying to hard, analyzing way too much, sinfully promiscuous women, with a warped since of style so outlandish that it reminds of what Sally (the 2 year old I babysit) looks like when we plan dress-up and she doesn't the outfit coordinating. I may not be obsessed with fashion, like I was with my wedding flowers, but it is not lost on me. Even foward thinking, high fashion can be admired (from a distance). To valididate my credibility, I am a 3 year + subscriber and avid reader of Harper's Bazaar, Elle, Marie Claire, W, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. I do try to escape the Florida bubble of flip-flops, tank tops and yoga pants monthly with those subscriptions. Just like with art and music, I am able to appreciate that which I have no hope of participating in. That should at least entitle me to an opinion, right? Good, I'm glad we agree.
With that said, what the hell is wrong with people? I guess I can slightly comprehend and sympathize with the late 30's, more like 40 somethings escaping the tragedy that has become their lives being fascinating with this show, but I'd like to think that my peers have something better to do? Don't we? I mean, I guess not, but should we really idolize these women and aspire to create their version of happiness, otherwise known as big-city drama???
I like drama. I like sex. I like fashion. I even like protensious people who need more sex, less drama, and better fashion (thus my infactuation with all of the Real Housewives of NY, NJ, OC, Beverly Hills, and ATL). But try as I did, I fell off the SATC bandwagon landing with a hard *thud*. Call me crazy, but I couldn't get past Carrie's mole (WTF...why in the hell did it take her so long to get it removed?); Charlotte's holier than thou indecisiveness and attraction to short, bald, fat men; Samantha's Prada and Prostitution approach to EVERYTHING; and Miranda's overcompensation for being picked on in school for being OCD, fire crotch, Teacher's pet, Have-to-be-acedemically-better-than-everyone because I was never asked out or invited to anything. I know real-life versions of these people and I choose not to engage, so why would I take away from my blog, my top 100 books I still haven't read list, DVR (full of BH 90210, Real Housewives, American Idol, Off The Map, Blue Bloods, and Jersey Shore), my brand new bicycle, equipped with all of the must-have gadgets (Thanks, Rapha) and Anytime Fitness membership (okay, I'm not really complaining about foresaking this one), but I included it just to show my other options???
The simple of fact of the matter, I think I am better off and actually more positively distinguishable for abandoning this terrible idea than suffered through, resenting every moment and mocking every fan. Although I can no longer say I haven't watched SATC (I can still proudly say that about the Star Wars, Harry Potter, Terminator and Lord of the Rings), I believe that with enough alcohol and advil I will successfully put that bad decision behind me....obviously having more time for this blog.
Maybe I'll even get up to four posts a day....well, then again I still have all those shows on my DVR...and NETFLICKS (who does, in fact, have all 10 seasons of JAG). :)
Sunday, March 6, 2011
IKEA, Netflicks, Cycling, Sushi...
So is it moving up or moving farther away when your life consists of constants never before considered? I'm torn on how to view our move to the downtown "metro" Saint Petersburg area. It is more convenient to be able to walk to the movies, gelato stand, bay, beach, dog parks (there are numerous), pier, and various bits of edible culture, but the three-story window unit walk-up even with all its charm and unexpected space is still a THREE-STORY WALK-UP, sans central air and heating. Just saying. And have I mentioned we have two dogs? Well, we do.
Adorable as they may be (and there is no bias in that statement), they are two very distinctive "special" neurotic dogs: Emma needs to be the center of attention and refuses to be left behind; King must be walked at least 3 times a day and has no problem harassing you until you meet his 80 year-old bladder's needs. If you are reading this and saying to yourself "so what?" then I haven't created the most accurate picture of the before and after. Before our big, exciting, much anticipated move, all I EVER had to do was open up the door and wait for Emma to scratch the door for re-entrance. Now, we have to find the leases, get the dogs to sit still for 2 minutes, which always takes 5 minutes, then coordinate taking them down the stairs, as to not create the unnecessary and quite frankly, annoying, click-clack, click-clack of their well-groomed but still noisy paw nails. After our move we have to surreptitiously and strategically plan any outdoor activities that will involve the going down and eventually back up the steps.
I enjoy the instant access to culture and cuisine. And who can complain about being walking distance to practically everything with gas prices at the mercy of Libya ($3.49 and rising, last time I checked)? I guess I have more in common with our founding fathers than I thought, I, too, greatly value land...owning land, living on an abundance of land, being surrounded by land. I grew up on 80+ acres of land and have always coveted and dreamed of calling a quaint little piece of land my own front and backyard. I do into account that I am fresh out of law school, which is to say that I am up-to-my-ears in law school loans debt (a tangent I won't get on at this time, but can't promise not to bring up when my first payment becomes due), seeking Bar passage and admittance, and then the ever disappointing first legal job, so therefore I am not a prime candidate for any kind of mortgage rate (if any) worth mentioning. However, at this moment, I can't help but think of Langston Hughes and his poem that ponders the consequences of a dream that is deferred. For those of you who do not know of "Dream Deferred" or Langston Hughes, SHAME ON YOU, seriously. See below for your literary lesson for the day, but I reiterate...SHAME ON YOU.
Adorable as they may be (and there is no bias in that statement), they are two very distinctive "special" neurotic dogs: Emma needs to be the center of attention and refuses to be left behind; King must be walked at least 3 times a day and has no problem harassing you until you meet his 80 year-old bladder's needs. If you are reading this and saying to yourself "so what?" then I haven't created the most accurate picture of the before and after. Before our big, exciting, much anticipated move, all I EVER had to do was open up the door and wait for Emma to scratch the door for re-entrance. Now, we have to find the leases, get the dogs to sit still for 2 minutes, which always takes 5 minutes, then coordinate taking them down the stairs, as to not create the unnecessary and quite frankly, annoying, click-clack, click-clack of their well-groomed but still noisy paw nails. After our move we have to surreptitiously and strategically plan any outdoor activities that will involve the going down and eventually back up the steps.
I enjoy the instant access to culture and cuisine. And who can complain about being walking distance to practically everything with gas prices at the mercy of Libya ($3.49 and rising, last time I checked)? I guess I have more in common with our founding fathers than I thought, I, too, greatly value land...owning land, living on an abundance of land, being surrounded by land. I grew up on 80+ acres of land and have always coveted and dreamed of calling a quaint little piece of land my own front and backyard. I do into account that I am fresh out of law school, which is to say that I am up-to-my-ears in law school loans debt (a tangent I won't get on at this time, but can't promise not to bring up when my first payment becomes due), seeking Bar passage and admittance, and then the ever disappointing first legal job, so therefore I am not a prime candidate for any kind of mortgage rate (if any) worth mentioning. However, at this moment, I can't help but think of Langston Hughes and his poem that ponders the consequences of a dream that is deferred. For those of you who do not know of "Dream Deferred" or Langston Hughes, SHAME ON YOU, seriously. See below for your literary lesson for the day, but I reiterate...SHAME ON YOU.
Dream Deferred
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load
Or does it explode?
-Langston Hughes
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Monday, February 28, 2011
Back to Those Damn Flowers
So dinner took a little longer than I expected. Actually, it turned out to be dinner, breakfast, lunch in LC, dinner, skipped Monday's breakfast and lunch...what can I say???... I was hungry.
Anyways, so Rapha placed THE ORDER. It's not that I don't appreciate the help (actually, I will more appropriately say, the gesture, since placing the order would only be helpful if done right), especially when I find ordering flowers nothing but frustrating and platitudinal. I also had other more pressing matters...like studying for the Florida Bar Exam which is undoubtedly the single most obnoxious exam I've ever taken and will ever take. As far as all things atrocious, the Bar Exam is second only to dealing with the Board of Bar Examiners (that's a blog post for another day).
Alright, the deed is done. A dozen peonies (pronounced Pee-on (like only)-eez by me and Pee-o-neez by everyone else) are being shipped for Jim the nice, but over-the-top florist only knows, at $10 a stem. I may not dwell in flowers, but I know a good bloom when I see it, if price is any indication.
After the minor panic attack, stemming for my need to be in control of everything and lack of trust that a man could possibly be trusted with this assignment, I call Jim just to reinterate the details of the order and get assurance that if anything should come up it will be I who is called and not Rapha. I instruct that if in doubt I'd rather the phoned and asked than surprised. Simple, enough, right?
Have I mentioned how I lack the slightest bit of good luck??? Well, I am the living breathing personification of the phrase of "When it rains it pours." Endorsing the concept of Karma, I truely believe that I must have been a dog-killer in my previous life (whom I find to be the most despicable kind of person). The tendency I have toward foresight, combined with my slight OCD compulsion, does nothing to mitigate the fallout that inevitably happens at most, if not all, major events in my life. I would take a leap of faith and say, that most people consider their wedding, if not their marriage (lol, funny that they are actually NOT one and the same or even synonymous) to be one of the most important events in one's life.* I find that it is a momentous occasion for the simple fact that you're life, as you knew it is gone, past, over...never to be enjoyed again. So since this is the "big one," the one big event in my life(I can say that now, with all accuracy and honesty, because children aren't included in any plans I have for the next, oh let's say, until my hopefully not very fertile eggs are depleted), and given my luck, or lack thereof, I should pray for bad, expect worse, and be prepared for worst, right? I did...or at least I convinced myself that I had. Of course, I wasn't.
The day before the Big Day, I get a text picture of my beautiful and only hopefully noteworthy accessory. WTF!?!? Not only were the bulbs (in case you didn't know, peonies come in bulbs the size of a walnut, if not smaller) were not opened, there was offensive green something added to the bouquet and the stems were approximately 16 inches long. I panic for multiple reasons:
1) I was panicing already, so what the hell?
2) What the hell is that green stuff? I would tell you, at this point, but I still don't know.
3) Why are the stems long enough to use a teeball bat?
4) Why are the bulbs still closed. I didn't want a bouquet to plant.
5) Seriously, one piece of ribben loosely wrapped around the ridiculously long stems???
I curse, scream a bit, tear up and then dial up Rapha. Then I scream a lot, mostly at florist vicariously through Rapha, the at Rapha for not being as upset as I am. I mean, this is a big fucking deal. HUGE! The end-of-the-world kind of crisis. In hindsight, I'll admit that okay, the world would have gone on regardless of my bouquet being deplorable or not, BUT that isn't the point. The point since Rapha and the Joe, the Florist, decided to take it upon themselves to pick out the bouquet the Rapha and Joe, the Florist, had better figure out between themselves how to fix their huge f...flipping mistake. This should not be my problem, even though it obviously was, as Rapha couldn't have cared less.
Another hour of cursing and screaming; one insanely polite, although distraught, phone call to Florist; and 2 hours of silence between my "dearly beloved" and me; the loathsome bouquet that would have never made it down the aisle, or even to LC, were rearranged, hand-opened, shortened, wrapped in cascading ribbon and chilled, to be delivered the next day.
Some may wonderI would choose to write a post about my bouquet instead of any other aspect of my wedding and I too, sometimes wonder, why those damn frivolous flowers are always prevalent in any memory of the wedding. Maybe, the not-so-fond memories are always more prevailing (which could explain the exuberant number of divorces these days). Maybe, I remember those flowers because it was the first time that I was upset and Rapha metaphorically laughed at me. Perhaps it is because for the first time in my life, I felt like a typical needy, dramatic, woman and the simularity between my wedding all those episodes of bridezilla (of which I pitied the fiance and hated the bride) where finally ringing true. I don't know why I focus on the damn flowers, but as I explained to Rapha, days later, when my relatively rational state-of-mind (relative, because I was still working and studying for the Bar) it should have mattered to everyone that I mattered to, because it mattered to me. And, because, DAMMIT IT WAS MY WEDDING DAY. So rational, logical, realistic, perfect perspective thinking...screw you.
In case you were wondering, the wedding was memorable for many other reasons and was, of course, one of the happiness days of our lives, in spite of my bad luck, bad karma, and lack of foresight that day. For visual confirmation, see below.
*Just a side note: My theory on the two is: The wedding is for "them" and the marriage is for "us".
Anyways, so Rapha placed THE ORDER. It's not that I don't appreciate the help (actually, I will more appropriately say, the gesture, since placing the order would only be helpful if done right), especially when I find ordering flowers nothing but frustrating and platitudinal. I also had other more pressing matters...like studying for the Florida Bar Exam which is undoubtedly the single most obnoxious exam I've ever taken and will ever take. As far as all things atrocious, the Bar Exam is second only to dealing with the Board of Bar Examiners (that's a blog post for another day).
Alright, the deed is done. A dozen peonies (pronounced Pee-on (like only)-eez by me and Pee-o-neez by everyone else) are being shipped for Jim the nice, but over-the-top florist only knows, at $10 a stem. I may not dwell in flowers, but I know a good bloom when I see it, if price is any indication.
After the minor panic attack, stemming for my need to be in control of everything and lack of trust that a man could possibly be trusted with this assignment, I call Jim just to reinterate the details of the order and get assurance that if anything should come up it will be I who is called and not Rapha. I instruct that if in doubt I'd rather the phoned and asked than surprised. Simple, enough, right?
Have I mentioned how I lack the slightest bit of good luck??? Well, I am the living breathing personification of the phrase of "When it rains it pours." Endorsing the concept of Karma, I truely believe that I must have been a dog-killer in my previous life (whom I find to be the most despicable kind of person). The tendency I have toward foresight, combined with my slight OCD compulsion, does nothing to mitigate the fallout that inevitably happens at most, if not all, major events in my life. I would take a leap of faith and say, that most people consider their wedding, if not their marriage (lol, funny that they are actually NOT one and the same or even synonymous) to be one of the most important events in one's life.* I find that it is a momentous occasion for the simple fact that you're life, as you knew it is gone, past, over...never to be enjoyed again. So since this is the "big one," the one big event in my life(I can say that now, with all accuracy and honesty, because children aren't included in any plans I have for the next, oh let's say, until my hopefully not very fertile eggs are depleted), and given my luck, or lack thereof, I should pray for bad, expect worse, and be prepared for worst, right? I did...or at least I convinced myself that I had. Of course, I wasn't.
The day before the Big Day, I get a text picture of my beautiful and only hopefully noteworthy accessory. WTF!?!? Not only were the bulbs (in case you didn't know, peonies come in bulbs the size of a walnut, if not smaller) were not opened, there was offensive green something added to the bouquet and the stems were approximately 16 inches long. I panic for multiple reasons:
1) I was panicing already, so what the hell?
2) What the hell is that green stuff? I would tell you, at this point, but I still don't know.
3) Why are the stems long enough to use a teeball bat?
4) Why are the bulbs still closed. I didn't want a bouquet to plant.
5) Seriously, one piece of ribben loosely wrapped around the ridiculously long stems???
I curse, scream a bit, tear up and then dial up Rapha. Then I scream a lot, mostly at florist vicariously through Rapha, the at Rapha for not being as upset as I am. I mean, this is a big fucking deal. HUGE! The end-of-the-world kind of crisis. In hindsight, I'll admit that okay, the world would have gone on regardless of my bouquet being deplorable or not, BUT that isn't the point. The point since Rapha and the Joe, the Florist, decided to take it upon themselves to pick out the bouquet the Rapha and Joe, the Florist, had better figure out between themselves how to fix their huge f...flipping mistake. This should not be my problem, even though it obviously was, as Rapha couldn't have cared less.
Another hour of cursing and screaming; one insanely polite, although distraught, phone call to Florist; and 2 hours of silence between my "dearly beloved" and me; the loathsome bouquet that would have never made it down the aisle, or even to LC, were rearranged, hand-opened, shortened, wrapped in cascading ribbon and chilled, to be delivered the next day.
Some may wonderI would choose to write a post about my bouquet instead of any other aspect of my wedding and I too, sometimes wonder, why those damn frivolous flowers are always prevalent in any memory of the wedding. Maybe, the not-so-fond memories are always more prevailing (which could explain the exuberant number of divorces these days). Maybe, I remember those flowers because it was the first time that I was upset and Rapha metaphorically laughed at me. Perhaps it is because for the first time in my life, I felt like a typical needy, dramatic, woman and the simularity between my wedding all those episodes of bridezilla (of which I pitied the fiance and hated the bride) where finally ringing true. I don't know why I focus on the damn flowers, but as I explained to Rapha, days later, when my relatively rational state-of-mind (relative, because I was still working and studying for the Bar) it should have mattered to everyone that I mattered to, because it mattered to me. And, because, DAMMIT IT WAS MY WEDDING DAY. So rational, logical, realistic, perfect perspective thinking...screw you.
In case you were wondering, the wedding was memorable for many other reasons and was, of course, one of the happiness days of our lives, in spite of my bad luck, bad karma, and lack of foresight that day. For visual confirmation, see below.
*Just a side note: My theory on the two is: The wedding is for "them" and the marriage is for "us".
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Flowers, Just Flowers
So I'm not a "girly-girl", or even a "girl's girl." I'm uninterested with decor and decorum for the most part and especially out of the professional setting. I like simple, classic, neutrals for the mere convenience of them. Everyone knows this about me. You must, if you can see me because you will only see me in black, beige, white and occasionally a pastel. However, you will also see that I am slightly enamored with accessories. I mean the perfect accessory makes or breaks us "Plain Janes."
My wedding, a no frills, supposedly no-fuss, occasion and my approach to the wedding is a perfect example of my "keep it simple, stupid" philosophy. I married in a one room, 1872 Primitive Baptist Church on the outskirts of Nowhere (AKA my hometown of Mascotte / Groveland*), with a guest list maxed out at 42 (with all of the plus-1 people and 4 no-shows). We left the charming, yet deteriorating decor along for the most part, just stopping to cover the crosses on the pews and adding some greenery as texture to the pulpit. My dress, a fourth choice, but the lucky winner was a simple, clean, classic...see a pattern forming. My hair, which I have neither the time nor the patience for, although it is arguing my best feature, was to be softly curled and pulled back. Nothing special, but unexpectedly hard to achieve. I'm going for the I really want the natural-glowing-bride-but-don't-have-the-bone-structure-or-natural-beauty-to-actually-pull-it-off-look. After three redoes we (my team of glutten-for-punishment-friends) found it. Note to future brides---if she looks like hell, and she's the "15 year professional" then you are going to look even worse when she gets done with you.
Deep Breath.
It's okay because the centerpiece of the assemble and reception isn't me, the dress, the cake, the newly-married couple, or hundreds of lights....it's in my specifically chosen accessory...my bouquet. The one aspect of wedding and day I put the most effort in and relied upon. It was more expensive than my dress, more expensive than his ring, more expensive than the cake, and took more time to pick out then our cut and copied vowels. The florist came high recommended from my fiance, who actually had more experience with bouquets and flowers than I ever did, or will. Until we started dating and with the exception of my step-dad and grandpa, no one had ever given me flowers. All I knew is what I liked and what a reasonable person would expect. So, arming him with my specific instructions and four wedding-bible (www.theknot.com) printouts of examples of very similiar bouquets, right up my alley, my fiance was to merely get an estimate on a somewhat similar bouquet from his respected florist. Instead, he placed an order. He placed THE ORDER, with about a week till D-Day and no room for errors. WHAT WAS I THINKING???
Time for dinner....TO BE CONTINUED.
*What town we're associated with depends on who you ask and what town they're from.
My wedding, a no frills, supposedly no-fuss, occasion and my approach to the wedding is a perfect example of my "keep it simple, stupid" philosophy. I married in a one room, 1872 Primitive Baptist Church on the outskirts of Nowhere (AKA my hometown of Mascotte / Groveland*), with a guest list maxed out at 42 (with all of the plus-1 people and 4 no-shows). We left the charming, yet deteriorating decor along for the most part, just stopping to cover the crosses on the pews and adding some greenery as texture to the pulpit. My dress, a fourth choice, but the lucky winner was a simple, clean, classic...see a pattern forming. My hair, which I have neither the time nor the patience for, although it is arguing my best feature, was to be softly curled and pulled back. Nothing special, but unexpectedly hard to achieve. I'm going for the I really want the natural-glowing-bride-but-don't-have-the-bone-structure-or-natural-beauty-to-actually-pull-it-off-look. After three redoes we (my team of glutten-for-punishment-friends) found it. Note to future brides---if she looks like hell, and she's the "15 year professional" then you are going to look even worse when she gets done with you.
Deep Breath.
It's okay because the centerpiece of the assemble and reception isn't me, the dress, the cake, the newly-married couple, or hundreds of lights....it's in my specifically chosen accessory...my bouquet. The one aspect of wedding and day I put the most effort in and relied upon. It was more expensive than my dress, more expensive than his ring, more expensive than the cake, and took more time to pick out then our cut and copied vowels. The florist came high recommended from my fiance, who actually had more experience with bouquets and flowers than I ever did, or will. Until we started dating and with the exception of my step-dad and grandpa, no one had ever given me flowers. All I knew is what I liked and what a reasonable person would expect. So, arming him with my specific instructions and four wedding-bible (www.theknot.com) printouts of examples of very similiar bouquets, right up my alley, my fiance was to merely get an estimate on a somewhat similar bouquet from his respected florist. Instead, he placed an order. He placed THE ORDER, with about a week till D-Day and no room for errors. WHAT WAS I THINKING???
Time for dinner....TO BE CONTINUED.
*What town we're associated with depends on who you ask and what town they're from.
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