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It’s been over a year since I posted anything on this blog. I suppose I’ll have to start keeping up with this one as well as cerebralstew.
Check out the links and I’ll be posting here, too! Don’t be surprised if I have the same things to say…
What kind of blogger would I be if I didn’t say anything about the Tiger Woods drama? All of my comments center around one question – why. Why is this on every station like it’s major news? CNN, NBC, ESPN, and I thought I saw a snippet on Animal Planet. Is it because of his previously squeaky clean image? Or maybe because he’s one of, if not THE, most recognizable faces in sports. It can’t be because he’s the first celebrity to commit “transgressions” who got busted. Speaking of, why are people shocked his wife had a Waiting to Exhale moment with the 3-iron and his Caddy? Every relationship comes with the risk of infidelity (especially high profile ones), and every risk comes with consequences. Add a little Jasmine Sullivan to the mix, and you get busted windows. To add insult to Tiger’s injuries, now all of his women are jumping out the woodwork, complete with proof of his infidelity. Umm, why now? Are you trying to get paid off this debacle? You hope your 15 minutes of fame will somehow net you a book deal or a recording contract? It can’t be to snag another man – your track record is tainted. One woman dated their affair at 2-1/2 years. So you pick NOW to ease your conscience? And why are people worried about him losing endorsements behind all of this? Unless Gatorade plans on incorporating some new catch phrase just for him (I kinda like “Add more energy to your stroke”), their sales don’t change. But even after all this, there’s still one major “why” thats been bugging me. Why is he leaving the phone around the house? And not just leave it around, but left it with his “transgressions” numbers in it, probably saved and on speed dial. Come on, man! What happened to delete? Nobody took him aside and gave him tips? He didn’t know how to erase his calls? Did he learn nothing from Kobe or disgraced Detroit mayor Kilpatrick? He truly thought having his mistress take her name off her voicemail was going to solve the problem? I would think rule #1 of infidelity would be never leave any evidence. Ah, well. Maybe while he’s camped out in the guest room reading up on physics, he’ll make some time to check out the users manual on his cell phone.
I love big words and I cannot lie. The way they roll off my tongue, how a good 3 or 4 syllables looks when typed. But, as my friends pointed out today, sometimes it’s better to keep it simple. See, I’m new at this blog thing, so I asked them to read a few posts and give me some feedback. I value both of their opinions and I knew they’d be completely honest. Bad thing about honesty is it hurts when it’s not what you want to hear. Instead of my big words enhancing my writing, apparently they take away from what I’m trying to say. Don’t get me wrong, it was definitely constructive criticism, but I couldn’t help feeling a little deflated. I mean telling a writer you’re not thrilled by what they wrote is like telling someone they have a bad haircut or could lose a few pounds. It may be things they already know, but never want confirmed by someone they care about. I’ll have to take it for what it was, true friends being true friends and bluntly telling me like it t-i-is. It’s going to take awhile to wean myself off of the big-word addiction. Don’t count the occasional “ingrained” or “existential” as me being pretentious. As of today, I’m in big-word rehab. It’ll take awhile to kick the habit, or at least more practice to slide them in usefully. If you’ll keep reading, I’ll keep trying.
I, along with some of my fellow 8-to-5ers, love to cram a month’s worth of cleaning, gardening, errands, etc. into 8 little days called “weekends.” It’s during these rare non-working hours I make feeble attempts at grand tasks, convincing myself these will be THE days they’re finally complete. Ahhh the hours I toil, squeezing immense aspirations into a mere 48 hours (if I was to never sleep, eat, make family time, etc). And what happens? The weary weekend warrior trudges back to the trenches on Monday, no closer to the goal than before. Today I had an epiphany. I made a concentrated effort to progress last Saturday’s task of painting my daughter’s room on (gasp) a Monday night. Shocking, I know, but missing out on reruns and the frightening nightly news wasn’t such a bad trade off. In fact, I thought of this post as I layered on the last drops of Lily Lavender. Maybe I’ll stick with this newfound wisdom; I’m sure just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, it didn’t get done in a weekend either.
I never, absolutely never, participate in Black Friday. Which is why it was as much of a shock to my husband as it was to myself when I announced my intent to attend the midnight sale at Toys R Us. He thought I was nuts; I figured there would be a small crowd at best. Ha. Traffic at 11:47pm was light, a good sign. Pulling into the locale, I noticed swarms of cars, most arriving with me, either searching for parking or moving toward other retailers with “Open” signs flickering on at midnight. The throng of about 400 people clustered along the side, all of them swathed in pajamas and blanket-wrapped coats, should have been a deterrent. It wasn’t. The small group of 6 or 7 huddled in the only open parking spot was what got to me. I’d pulled up, and was rudely told by the arrogant jerk ringleader he wasn’t moving. And when I’d rolled my window down to politely ask why, he decided his cigarette was the only thing worthy of his conversation. It wasn’t the spot that made me head for home at 11:52, it was the 6 or 7 counts of attempted vehicular homicide that flashed in my brain. Can’t spend my coveted Christmas bucks posting bail. I took this as a sign from God to do what I should’ve, listen to my husband, and bring my behind back home. Saving 35 bucks wasn’t worth the trouble.
Reality tv is only real in the sense it’s stars are real people, not paid actors portraying fictional characters. And I use the word “fictional” loosely. I mean how many times have you been stranded with 8+ strangers on an island eating bark paste with a side of grass roots, or in fierce competiton with 35 insecure women to win the transcient affections of a mildly attractive sleazeball? Whose reality is this? Can I get something a little more relatable? Maybe “The Decision” – couples deciding which bill goes unpaid this month; or “Landlord Luge” – tenants racing to get their rent checks in on time. How about “Divide and Conquer” – a game show in which scheming kids dupe their parents into giving them things twice? Nevertheless, there should be some kind of disclaimer for anything professing to be “reality tv”. Or maybe change the name to what it really is…but I guess “made up drama by network execs to inundate the actors pool thus driving costs down” is a bit too long to be catchy.
As my blog commemorates my decision to change what I’m doing to create positive results, it’s fitting I’d post it on my wordpress iPod touch app. Mobility is a tool I want to use to help me stay on top of my blog (a website sitting idle for a year should tell you something). Change is a part of life, and being adaptable is a must. I’ll keep blogging, hopefully you’ll keep reading. Thanks, and welcome!
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