Challenge

     

I have a new name on my blog role of coconspirators, Variations on a Theme. She is a writer and a mom and a lovely positive person plus she inspires me. Funny, she says the same thing about me too. She is also a reader of the Sun, which is an awesome literary magazine published in North Carolina by one Sy Safransky. When it arrives in my mailbox I put aside everything else and prepare to once again laugh and cry, rejoice and rage at the the things people say and how they say them. Only twenty six letter in the alphabet, how do they do it?

So my friend Variations made a suggestion on her blog that we as writers should stretch ourselves a bit and contribute to the section called "Readers Write". I am going to repeat the challenge she made here and hope in this way it will reach a few more people. If you want to know what type of thing they print go here and read some for yourself. Here is a list of the upcoming topics and the deadline for each.

Topic:                                 Deadline                       Publication date

Choosing Sides                 January 1                       July 2009

Fences                                February 1                     August 2009

The Middle of Nowhere  March 1                          September 2009

Rain                                    April 1                            October 2009

Selling Out                        May 1                              November 2009

Anger                                 June 1                              December 2009

Rejected or accepted, Variations and I both think it would be great to see what everyone comes up with and we will certainly publish our own pieces on our blogs. Hopefully you will too. I picked "Rain" and will be polishing mine off and putting it in the mail well before the deadline. I might even try for another one because I had ideas running around in my head for "the middle of nowhere" and "Anger".  Let me know how it goes....

You know your neighbor is a redneck when...

His wife gets gets one of these under the tree Christmas morning...

My husband brought it to my attention when it came  tucked as an ad in the fat newspaper that was dropped in our driveway Thursday morning. It reaffirms my belief that I need to continue to get all my news on line from the BBC website, without commercial interruption. 

Something wicked this way comes

     Since a lot of you may still be turkey drunk I thought I better warn you that there are only 27 shopping days left until Christmas. Remember how tired you were hearing about the election? That was nothing compared to the assault retail merchandisers have prepared for us this desperate holiday season. For many of them it really is life and death this year and they have pulled out all the stops. Those of you with nerves of steel who went out there shopping today, Black Friday, I hope you found everything on your shopping lists. For those of you like myself who would rather have a root canal than venture out to a mall today, I do want to remind you that it's not too late to shop on line. I have reliable information that over 15 percent of you wait until Christmas Eve and then race about in a frantic snatch and grab that results in those long lines for returns on December 26. 

     I know it's way too late to slow the annual flood of consumerism and this year it is evidently unpatriotic to even suggest a simpler Christmas. For me and my house this year however we are going to try to scale down a notch. I just can't see how going into personal debt is going to make the economy stronger. Goodness knows if that worked we wouldn't be in this mess. So, what are your plans for Christmas shopping?

Easily Amused

From:	Barack Obama (info@barackobama.com)
	You may not know this sender.Mark as safe|Mark as unsafe
Sent:	Wed 11/05/08 1:45 AM
To:	Elaine Haley (ELAINECHALEY@HOTMAIL.COM)

I rarely check my hotmail account anymore. It's the one I give to commercial ventures and it is jam packed full of spam at all times. Since the sender above knows two of my other email addresses, imagine my surprise when I checked this morning and found him there in my hotmail account. 

I'm just thinking how funny it would be if that mail came to a Republican on November 5.  

BTW, I bet you're thinking Barack wanted to thank me for my support, right? Nope, he was trying to sell me a tee shirt to raise money for the expensive election campaign. I immediately googled "money raised in 2008 election" and you all know what I found. Total raised by Obama $639 million, total spent $573 million. Sorry darlin' but nice try. 

Disaster Adverted

My husband and I are going out dancing tonight cause well, it's Friday, our date night. I bought some new clothes, slightly on the challenging side to inspire my weight loss. With five pounds off they fit better than they did last week so I decided to try on a few outfits to determine which looked best.  In desperation, because the girl is not home, I decided to ask my husband which looked best. Three changes later he says, “I like the green one.” 

Being a girl I asked him why. “Well, green is my favorite color.” He sees immediately from my face that he gave the wrong answer. He sounds calm when he delivers the next sentence but I know him too well. His eyes show me that he realizes this is a mine field conversation. “The one you have on is beautiful. Why don't you wear that?” I bet you can figure out what comes next, right?

“Are you sure it doesn't make me look fat?” I slur the last word a bit and he leaps on the opportunity. 

“Sat?” he quips.

“No,” I reply, “Does it make me look, you know, the “f” word?

“Yes my dear it certainly does make you look fuc*able.” 

The man is a genius. 

RANDOMNESS

My new friend Tiggerlane has tagged me with a meme. Now I generally ignore these things not only because I'm not about readership, but because I never have enough hours in the day. I do have readers, honest I do, but most of them don't blog, they lurk. Don't get me wrong, I love lurkers. I'm a Scorpio so evidently I am being true to form when I delight in the mystery of who checks in most everyday from Beijing and San Antonio and London and Florida. I sometimes try to guess who they are, maybe that man at the bar that I gave my blog address before I fled to my room, maybe the green peace lady I met on the plane, perhaps family members that aren't telling they know, or even an old lover or two, now that would be sweet. I appreciate them, along with my little blogging family, but I do not write for them. Writing has always been because I need to, because I love to, because if I don't the words sit inside me and turn to stagnant pools log jammed and straining to break free. 

That said, I am back to my friend Tiggerland, a most charming lady. We have daughters in common, hers ten years younger than mine. Whatever is dissimilar or congruent in the lives we lead, when she talks about her offspring she sounds just like me talking about my girl. I'm quite sure we would be the best of friends in real life and whatever flaws I have it could never be said that I am not a loyal and supportive friend. This is just for you Tigger.

Meme:

1. Link to the person who tagged you. (I was going to anyway, good excuse, done)

2 Post the rules on your blog. (unlike Tigger, I only read the rules so I can break them)

3 Write six random things about yourself (see below).

4 Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them (sorry, but forgiveness is easier to get than permission).

5 Let each person know they've been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.

6 Let the tagger know when your entry is up. 

Now for the randomness, in no particular order.

1. A friend shared something with me a few weeks ago and then added, "Please don't write about this." I told him not to worry because while it looks like my life must be an open book, I am hiding in plain sight. He who has an ear to hear let him hear. 

2. I have made eight wedding cakes at this juncture, all for friends and family.  Several had to be vegan, one vegan and wheat free, one vegan and wheat free and soy free and tree nut free.

3. I am a yellow dog democrat.

4. I hate coupons. If they wanted to save me money they would just make stuff cheaper. Duh.

5. I have a pair of jeans hanging on my refrigerator door. They are one size smaller than I now wear. I will be wearing them one week from tomorrow, so no cake for me thanks.

6. I don't do windows. 

Now, sorry darlin',  but you're it. You will notice that math is not my strong suit.

WG

Woojum

123Valerie

The sound of your heart

Variations on a theme

I am totally out of time and need to go to work!!! 

Asian Markets Are Down

My Vietnamese manicurist is about my height but I'm sure I out weigh him by at least 30 pounds. With his fragile looking hands he massages my feet and legs like you would expect from a man twice his size. I do not speak while this occurs, just lean back in the decadence of the upholstered chair and thank god that an hour of overtime will pay for being treated like royalty. Later he files my left hand while my right soaks in the bowl of suds. He is looking up at the TV instead of my fingers. The world stock market report is blaring from the big screen. He turns back briefly, glances at me and says,

“What happen money? Who has it? Who take?”

I pause only briefly as I consider best how to describe a complex system of economics, one that I myself do not understand, to a manicurist whose English is certainly better than my Vietnamese, but not exponentially. 

“Well,” I start, giving myself time to think, “It's not like real money. No one actually is taking it.”

“but where go? who has?” says the man who calls himself James.

“It's like my house.” I said, a subject we had been talking about earlier after I tried to explain why a man was selling lottery tickets for his house for $50.00 apiece and needed to sell 6000 to get his asking price. “I told you I bought my house for about $90,000 and now it's worth about $400,000. It's the same house. It's only worth more if someone is willing to pay that much for it. It might look like I am $310,000 richer, but I don't have the money except on paper. I have stocks too, and I got a statement recently that said some of the ones I own are worth around $3000 less than they were the last time they sent me a statement. I didn't actually have the money when they were worth 3,000 more, and no one has actually taken it from me. The stock market just decided they were worth less.” I lean back sure that I have given a brilliantly simple explanation that even someone who speaks little English can understand.

“They just steal money?” replies James. I realize I have vastly overestimated my teaching skills. 

“No, it's only there on paper.” I pause for a bit of a think. “Look at it this way. Is what you charge for a manicure what it is actually worth, or is it what someone is willing to pay to have their nails done? 

James says nothing with his mouth this time, but I can tell he wants to ask the same question again, rephrasing it so I in my intense ignorance will be able to understand that I've been robbed.

“Okay,” I begin again, “when my son was little he had trouble understanding money. I used to tell him the value of things in ice cream cones rather than dollars. A really expensive toy might cost twenty ice cream cones. Ice cream is a real thing that he could understand, but dollars are only worth what we say they are.” I don't bother going into the gold standard at this point as I am hopelessly over my head with the ice cream. “The stock market is the same way. A stock is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it. Right now a lot of people think that the stocks are losing value, so they are. It's all about confidence really.” 

“Oh,” he says, “so if it cheap maybe some people could go buy now and sell later when it worth more.” Bingo! I have done it. I have created a capitalist agenda in this small Asian man. 

“Yes, you're right.! That's exactly what caused the rally today. People decided to buy up cheap stock in companies hoping it will be worth more later.” We smile together, minds finally on the same wave length. I am wondering if James is counting how many manicures it would take to buy a controlling interest in Google. We sit in quiet as he paints the perfect white half moons on my short fingernails making them look spectacular. 

“You did a wonderful job!” I exclaim as he puts on the final coat. He thanks me shyly and then delivers the coup de grace.

“I thinking. Why man sell house so cheap? Fifty dollar. He lose money.” My mouth opens but nothing comes out. James is picking up my boots and purse and taking them to the nail drying area. I settle in quietly and watch him pick up the towels and sweep the floor, really glad I over tipped him.

Time for those replacement windows

I was sitting writing this morning when the giant plastic spider connected to my window by suction cups fell off onto the kitchen floor. I had put it there for Halloween instead of washing the windows. It was a message of course, time to put the damn Halloween decorations away and clean the windows. Fortunately my daughter came up stairs about this time and told me she wanted to go to Pilates at 12:30, so I have a healthy excuse for leaving the ghosts, pumpkins, spiders and webs tucked about the house. I don't know much for sure but one thing I can tell you with authority is that the house will always need cleaning. I have also found out that if I take off my reading glasses I don't notice how desperately it needs to be done. So, off with those glasses and on to the gym. Have a great Sunday.

ARGH!

When he first started calling me I have to admit I was flattered, an important busy man like that taking the time to call little old me. Although some might say I am not inclined to make snap judgements about people, they would be wrong. With a few exceptions, if I don't like someone two minutes into a conversation I'm never going to feel any more predisposed to them later. This man I liked immediately. His voice was so rich and confident, and his words held wonderful promises of the future we would build together. How could I resist? 

This afternoon however when I heard the now familiar voice for the third time today I felt the tension building behind my eyes. Then I did something remarkable. I hung up the phone. When I sat down at my computer the emails began.  Heartlessly I deleted them unread just like the dozens of others I received today and every day this month. I am writing this to let him know that it's nothing personal but it simply has to stop. Now don't think this means we can't be friends, because I've already voted for you, but for pity sakes Barack, it's embarrassing.  Oh, and you're not fooling anyone having your wife or one of your minions call either. It ends here. Tomorrow morning I'll just go back to my ordinary life and you go on and run the country, okay?

Anonymous

This one goes out to you, whomever you are and where ever you may be. I apologize that I often forget to check comments on older posts because I have had it associated to a semi retired email account. Today I finally got around to correcting that so I do not miss out on the interesting things you have to say. For instance, the post with the naked lady posing as a table received a comment from my learned anonymous friend that reads German, and evidently sees the clear difference between it and Swedish. He says that the cute girl pretending to be an Ikea slave is captioned in German. Now understanding a bit about the German sense of humor, this does not surprise me in the least, but since I don't even remember from whence I stole the pic,  my standards for accurate detail are obviously very low.  I want to let you know that I appreciate the fact that you take the time to write me notes. Of those who merely lurk silently you are in the small but elite percentage of those who who not only enjoy my sporadic soap opera life, but actually take the time to tell me. 

Of course I actually do know where you are because of my site meter and sometimes I guess that you are someone I may have met in person. The mystery about you always intrigues me and while I sometimes want to know your name, I am content to have an occasional secret admirer. 

Years ago when my husband was courting me seriously he gave me a funny little volume of stories called "Fables for the Fair" that was written by "One of them".  The subtitle is listed as "Cautionary Tales for Damsels Not Yet in Distress". It was written at the turn of the century, not this past one of course, the one before, and published first by a British firm. It is in no way PC in it's approach and in it's time it was probably scandalous. No one has ever been able to puzzle out who wrote the short vignettes about male female relationships but I adored them when he gave the book to me and I still do today. Part of it's intrigue is the fact that it has remained anonymous all these decades. Still I think what a delight it would be to find out who wrote the little book that I have keep on my bedside table over the years. So, although you can continue to enjoy with only an occasional remark, if you feel brave some fine day my email address is on my profile. Your secret is save with me.