By Crystal Laramore
Edited by Deborah K. Martin
This whole "Bam! you’re the proud new mother of a 6 year old at the age of 45" is taking it’s toll on me and my friends and the school system and last but not least the poor, poor 6 year-old. My husband seems to be taking it well; which should give us all reason to pause…
Does it mean you’re a bad parent if you drop your child off at school on a teacher In-Service day? What about if you get really mad at the “system” cuz the school called you last-minute to tell you that you have 70 lbs of cookie dough to pick up by 7 pm-“That’s it? No notice? No reminder?” and you’re in a business meeting in Houston; then you find the notice/reminder a few days later under your car seat with peanut butter on it? "Honey, can you cancel that appt. we had with LaTonya Goffney on Tuesday?"
How about if you send your child off to school with crooked pig tails? Socks that don’t match? Scratches under her eyes from the puppies-no, I swear!
Isn’t it great that children are resilient and bounce back from most things we do to screw them up as a child??? Maybe that’s why God makes our memory so crappy before the age of about 10. God knows.
Seriously, it’s a good thing that I KNOW the teachers and the administration at my stepdaughter's school. At least they know I don’t MEAN to be a horrible parent. At least they are willing to teach me that I have to help her with her homework when she first comes in from school while it’s still fresh in her mind and she has energy & an attention span farther than 22 seconds or until she hears the puppies barking; not at 6:55 in the morning right before we rush her to get ready and rush her out the door with crooked pig tails to have breakfast at school cuz we’re too crazed to make her breakfast soooo early in the morning and oh! Great Scott! Thank the good Lord they make it at school!
We do allow her to have coffee with us though. What?
Oh good gosh not really, we give her chocolate milk. I swear! Everyone knows sugar is totally better for a child than caffeine"??!!
And about the whole helping her with her homework thing Mrs. Rouswald, we didn't even know she HAD homework for several weeks. We thought kindergartners finger-painted. We didn't realize they were beginning to READ at that age! It's been such a long time since we were in grade K we forgot how to spell it. So, if our child is ever failing, please inform us because it's probably OUR fault! She’s probably told us to do something and we’ve ignored the silly 6 year old.
Like the first 3 times she brought home the copy of the lunch menu for the month I threw it away b/c it wasn’t pretty enough to go on the fridge - like the 6 year old said it should. Well, the 6 year old should have told the 45 year old it had the in-service days on it and the ice cream and slushy days on it and when the cookie dough will be in day marked, and when award day is-we missed award day! But nooooo, we’ve taught her to not argue with our authority. Tsk. We were soooo surprised when she came home with an award. I thought the “Food” calendar just had who was eating what & when on it. New parents don’t realize the global importance of the monthly food menu! To NOT look at one is to NOT want your child to succeed!
Look people, before I met/married my wonderful husband I was a night owl. I stayed up till 2 or 3 am and woke up around 10 or 11 am. I read period pieces, not "I said I see Sam". I may or may not get dressed for work during the week cuz no one can see me doing computer work. I lived on-site and only had to walk 10 paces to work. Now, I’m up between 5:30 & 6:00 and have made and drank 2 cups of coffee by 6:30. By 7:15 I have a lot of chores finished including getting a 6 year old ready for school (did she brush her teeth this morning?) and a 45 year-old (me) ready for work. Each takes the same amount of energy. The 52 year old can, by the grace of God, get himself ready. By the time I get to work, which is 7 miles away now and I do indeed drive, I need a nap. I'm exhausted!
And is it so bad that we get Spirit day and the other day (see, I don’t even know the names of all the days) mixed up? Wednesdays we know its green t-shirt day and Friday is red-t-shirt day and most of the time we get THAT right; isn’t that enough? And I think the school system has dealt with parents like us before and that is why they pick our child’s clothes 2 days out of the week FOR US!
Speaking of colors, why didn't someone tell me a blue smiley face was worse than a green one? I thought a smiley face was universally good and all the different colors were pretty.
Here's another thing - why does a 6 year old get “projects” WE have to do??? Don’t WE pay THEM to teach our child? Our child’s parents are old. WE don’t have energy or an attention span after 4:30 pm either. It takes all the energy my husband has to turn off the football game every Monday night.
And if bed-time is 8:30 and the Wizard of Oz doesn't come on until 7:00 and Dorothy hasn’t clicked her freaking heels yet-what then???? Shouldn’t Disney have a policy about what time kids’ shows start? We could barely get her out of bed this morning and she was mad at US! Like we own Disney or something…wait, are they publicly traded?
Sophie’s story: It's not a "good parent" story; it's a "good child" story. Sometimes these things DO happen. It'll give you hope. When her baby boy was about 10 (btw, he teaches pre-calculus and statistics in high school now so that should give you some clue as to how many cheery brain cells HE has), she and her husband were at a gathering of parents in the home of one of his classmates. The classmate in question wandered through the living room and his dad said something like, "Johnny, don't take too long. You know you've got to finish that big project. It's due tomorrow!"
Sophia and her then husband looked at each other & said “What project”? Their over-achieving child looked quizzically at them and said, "Oh yeah. I turned that in days ago." And so went HIS school years. We should all be so lucky as to get a kid like that. Miracles DO happen in the parenting world.
In the mean-time, this parent will try to remember (after 3 mos of school) to give her child a dollar on Wednesdays and Fridays for a slushy and/or ice cream and be grateful that she has better manners than Kanye and doesn't interrupt when someone is getting an award, even if her parents aren’t there!
p.s. I just found out that slushy day is Tuesday...NOT Wednesday…
www.thedamgoodtimes.blogspot.com
www.sexinthewoods.blogspot.com
Become a follower!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Change We Can ALL Believe In
by Crystal Laramore Lutz
Edited by Deborah K. Martin
As you all know I’ve been out of commission for a couple of weeks with the very competent Deborah K. Martin filling in for me as I avoid getting older.
Yes, I’m approaching my 45th birthday. I know, I KNOW, I don’t LOOK 45, but as my plastic surgeon says, “How old you are is your business; how old you LOOK is ours". Anyway, I've had a lot more than usual random thoughts roaming round in my head lately.
Just the other day we were all sitting at the new and improved Crystal’s Patio & Grille’s new bar watching the 52” LCD HD while Fox News (is there any other?) informed the world about some pirates who had kidnapped a couple and were holding them for ransom! Pirates?! Really? They’re back?
Well, yes they are back but unlike the bell-bottomed, corduroyed scoundrels we all knew and loved, these pirates have changed and not in a good way. Gone are the dreadlocks and man-liner along with eye patches, sheathed swords, three point hats, fancy belts with HUGE buckles and hairy chests. Pardon me, but I’d be less offended about the whole “the pirates are back” thing if we could just have our swashbucklers back instead of these metro-sexual, plain clothed pirate wannabe’s. And really, you’re not supposed to kidnap people – that’s a sin against the pirate rules. You are supposed to hunt down the treasure yourself and steal it from the first people who found it! Not only are the new pirates inadequate, unsexy and unappealing but they are impostors!
Come to think of it, we miss the real pirates so much the theme of this year’s Halloween party at the restaurant was pirates, wenches and gypsies. My husband was the Johnny Depp, swashbuckling kind of pirate and I was a gypsy. No fair asking how long the costumes stayed on but we DID have that extra hour Saturday night!
Speaking of Halloween, it was a full moon all weekend and I felt like I was in an “Eastwick” episode most of the time. Change was in the hair, ahem air – bwah hahaha!! It all started on Friday night when an enchanting young (-er than most of us) couple came into the restaurant for the first time. They were from Arizona, land of dry air, great hair and pretty people.
Speaking of great hair, all the charm seemed to be coming from the woman’s long black hair which I decided I just MUST have! Black hair that is, not HER hair…anyway, my hairdresser and FORMER friend (snicker) Kay Lynn was sitting at the bar and she concurred about me doing the whole black hair thing. Then Leah McCarty and Paula Harper followed suit; and did I mention it was a full moon and I was surrounded by...??? So the witches of Coldspring danced across the street under a full moon, protected by a cloud of pixie dust sprinkled by the enchanting couple, after midnight for some...change.
It’s really been more like a “shock and awe” campaign than change but I’m rolling with it. The Rasmussen poll is 95% FOR the enchanting black hair aka “change” and 5% in favor of the blond with one inch roots…so with the new black hair, the Dr. Mark Barlow special and the new weather in the air, I’m feeling like I’m likin’ change, baby. But remember, things are cyclical and in another 10 years…..blond could be back.
Anyway, the real thing always shows up every ten years or so in some fashion or song or piece of furniture, etc. The very first time I can remember a fashion coming back around I was a youngster at my grandmother’s house in Austin. Dresses with wide bands around the hips were all the craze and my mother had bought my grandmother one for Mother’s Day. She was having NO part of that! “I didn’t wear em back then and I don’t know what makes you think I’m gonna wear ‘em now!”
Since then many things have come back around that I remember, which means we’re all getting old. Whenever a new song like “My Boyfriend’s Back” by the Ravonette’s comes on the radio it’s always funny to see the “Man, you are so hip and cool” (except, Deb adds, young people don’t use those words, only us older folks do - snicker) expression on a teenager’s face when we know ALL the words! I LOVE that!
I’ve said all that to say this – life is short, embrace change. And for change YOU can believe in call
Mark Barlow, MD, Board Certified Plastic Surgeon (281-333-8999)
Kay Lynn Arrendell, Professional Hair Stylist, (281-659-5250)
(Personal references available at Crystal’s Patio & Grille!)
Edited by Deborah K. Martin
As you all know I’ve been out of commission for a couple of weeks with the very competent Deborah K. Martin filling in for me as I avoid getting older.
Yes, I’m approaching my 45th birthday. I know, I KNOW, I don’t LOOK 45, but as my plastic surgeon says, “How old you are is your business; how old you LOOK is ours". Anyway, I've had a lot more than usual random thoughts roaming round in my head lately.
Just the other day we were all sitting at the new and improved Crystal’s Patio & Grille’s new bar watching the 52” LCD HD while Fox News (is there any other?) informed the world about some pirates who had kidnapped a couple and were holding them for ransom! Pirates?! Really? They’re back?
Well, yes they are back but unlike the bell-bottomed, corduroyed scoundrels we all knew and loved, these pirates have changed and not in a good way. Gone are the dreadlocks and man-liner along with eye patches, sheathed swords, three point hats, fancy belts with HUGE buckles and hairy chests. Pardon me, but I’d be less offended about the whole “the pirates are back” thing if we could just have our swashbucklers back instead of these metro-sexual, plain clothed pirate wannabe’s. And really, you’re not supposed to kidnap people – that’s a sin against the pirate rules. You are supposed to hunt down the treasure yourself and steal it from the first people who found it! Not only are the new pirates inadequate, unsexy and unappealing but they are impostors!
Come to think of it, we miss the real pirates so much the theme of this year’s Halloween party at the restaurant was pirates, wenches and gypsies. My husband was the Johnny Depp, swashbuckling kind of pirate and I was a gypsy. No fair asking how long the costumes stayed on but we DID have that extra hour Saturday night!
Speaking of Halloween, it was a full moon all weekend and I felt like I was in an “Eastwick” episode most of the time. Change was in the hair, ahem air – bwah hahaha!! It all started on Friday night when an enchanting young (-er than most of us) couple came into the restaurant for the first time. They were from Arizona, land of dry air, great hair and pretty people.
Speaking of great hair, all the charm seemed to be coming from the woman’s long black hair which I decided I just MUST have! Black hair that is, not HER hair…anyway, my hairdresser and FORMER friend (snicker) Kay Lynn was sitting at the bar and she concurred about me doing the whole black hair thing. Then Leah McCarty and Paula Harper followed suit; and did I mention it was a full moon and I was surrounded by...??? So the witches of Coldspring danced across the street under a full moon, protected by a cloud of pixie dust sprinkled by the enchanting couple, after midnight for some...change.
It’s really been more like a “shock and awe” campaign than change but I’m rolling with it. The Rasmussen poll is 95% FOR the enchanting black hair aka “change” and 5% in favor of the blond with one inch roots…so with the new black hair, the Dr. Mark Barlow special and the new weather in the air, I’m feeling like I’m likin’ change, baby. But remember, things are cyclical and in another 10 years…..blond could be back.
Anyway, the real thing always shows up every ten years or so in some fashion or song or piece of furniture, etc. The very first time I can remember a fashion coming back around I was a youngster at my grandmother’s house in Austin. Dresses with wide bands around the hips were all the craze and my mother had bought my grandmother one for Mother’s Day. She was having NO part of that! “I didn’t wear em back then and I don’t know what makes you think I’m gonna wear ‘em now!”
Since then many things have come back around that I remember, which means we’re all getting old. Whenever a new song like “My Boyfriend’s Back” by the Ravonette’s comes on the radio it’s always funny to see the “Man, you are so hip and cool” (except, Deb adds, young people don’t use those words, only us older folks do - snicker) expression on a teenager’s face when we know ALL the words! I LOVE that!
I’ve said all that to say this – life is short, embrace change. And for change YOU can believe in call
Mark Barlow, MD, Board Certified Plastic Surgeon (281-333-8999)
Kay Lynn Arrendell, Professional Hair Stylist, (281-659-5250)
(Personal references available at Crystal’s Patio & Grille!)
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Sophie & Richard Sittin’ In A Tree…
by Crystal Laramore
Edited by Deborah K. Martin
…F-u-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes moving in without an engagement ring, wedding date, promise or picture of one. Then comes Richard with a chain saw, cuts off her limb and there she is-on her butt on the cold, hard, damp ground-alone.
But enough about why you shouldn’t let him have the milk without buying the cow.
Anyhoo…my bff Sophia is dating Richard. Now, as I’ve expressed in previous articles, I do not have crappy, ugly, homeless, unemployed, mean, psychotic or dumb girlfriends; which, of course, means that Sophia is beautiful, smart, gainfully employed, mostly rational and is certainly not crappy.
One recent seemingly normal evening Sophia or Sophie as we call her crawled into bed and snuggled up to Richard for some warmth and coloring. Richard’s response was “What do you want”? Sophie: “Some attention”. Richard: “Well you don’t always get what you want. I have a lot of things on my mind and you are not high on my list of priorities right now”. End of conversation, no detail, no “I’m not in a great mood, but baby, it’s not your fault.”
Really? Are you kidding me? Now remember I said she’s hot! Oh, well I meant to. She’s hot as in STOP traffic hot and if that’s not enough, she’s S.M.A.R.T. in capital letters.. Makes her living with numbers for Pete’s sake!!
So anyway, being an avid fan of Sex in the Woods and a good student to boot she got up the next morning, formulated a plan and left Richard a note worthy of his behavior. It went something like this:
“Since you have a lot on your mind and I’m not high on your list of priorities I’ve decided to take the weekend and figure out what MY priorities are”.
THAT’s my girl! No ugly scenes, no ultimatums, no begging for his love. Nope. She wrote just this one incredible sentence and got the heck out of Dodge! Yeah! So what do you think happened when he read said note? Well, first he blamed her for the whole situation. Isn’t that typical? I know women do this, too, but right now we’re talking about men so don’t get on my case, okay? When crappy guys screw up, their first reaction is to point the finger anywhere but at themselves.
Will someone (a man preferably) PLEASE tell me what’s so hard about sucking it up and being a stand up guy?? Is it really THAT hard to say, “Baby, I wasn’t in a good mood last night but I didn’t really mean to take it out on you. Can you forgive me?” Listen, after we picked our outstanding selves off the floor of COURSE we’d forgive you. All you have to do is ask – and then never but NEVER do that thing again. If you keep doing that same crappy thing over and over the “Baby, I’m sorry” spiel gets to be kind of meaningless. Know what I mean?
Anyway, after she called him out on the blame game and he figured out she really was going to stay AWAY from home for the weekend (like she said she was going to do) her crackberry hasn’t stopped dinging! He’s burning up the information hot lines with txt messages, phone calls, pics of himself, etc. Push – Pull. The chase; the hunt.
According to the Bit#h books she is doing just the right thing. And he is responding accordingly. Richard was being a, well, a Richard and Sophie decided to be a bit#h. Now, Sophie is not good at this but luckily for her-her bff IS! Again, we don’t mean for you ladies to be a mean Bit#h, but a sweet, charming, fully capable and independent woman. In fact, Sophie has a number of friends who were ready to give wise counsel and help her hold HIM to HER high standards. It had to be done.
Remember what Dr. Phil said long ago when he was on Oprah’s show? I’ll never forget this incredible, powerful bit of information.. Ladies – read, study, learn, apply. Here it is:
“You teach people how to treat you.” If any of you Sophie’s out there are having trouble with your significant (or not so significant) other perhaps you have taught him how to treat you. Stop it. Do you hear me? STOP it NOW!!! You deserve to be treated well so don’t let ANYone get away with treating you like crap.
We don’t know the details of the final outcome b/c right now she’s still deciding if he’s worth her time and he’s showing her all the reason why he is. Richard did a bad, bad thing and he has to convince Sophie that he will not do that again. His reasons could be many but none are worthy. We cannot speak to our significant others in a less than respectful manner if we expect them to continue to love us. Will she give him another chance? We’ll keep you posted…One thing we know for sure:
Sophie decided she deserved better treatment so she did something really simple to get his attention – she walked out when he wasn’t looking. When he checked out she checked out. When he did the unexpected she did the unexpected. She stood up for herself. She put herself at the top of her priority list since clearly he had taken her off of his.
If you ever find yourself in this situation and don’t know what to say to Richard, I’m gonna go with last weeks closing remarks:
“Feelin Froggy? Jump”.
Edited by Deborah K. Martin
…F-u-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes moving in without an engagement ring, wedding date, promise or picture of one. Then comes Richard with a chain saw, cuts off her limb and there she is-on her butt on the cold, hard, damp ground-alone.
But enough about why you shouldn’t let him have the milk without buying the cow.
Anyhoo…my bff Sophia is dating Richard. Now, as I’ve expressed in previous articles, I do not have crappy, ugly, homeless, unemployed, mean, psychotic or dumb girlfriends; which, of course, means that Sophia is beautiful, smart, gainfully employed, mostly rational and is certainly not crappy.
One recent seemingly normal evening Sophia or Sophie as we call her crawled into bed and snuggled up to Richard for some warmth and coloring. Richard’s response was “What do you want”? Sophie: “Some attention”. Richard: “Well you don’t always get what you want. I have a lot of things on my mind and you are not high on my list of priorities right now”. End of conversation, no detail, no “I’m not in a great mood, but baby, it’s not your fault.”
Really? Are you kidding me? Now remember I said she’s hot! Oh, well I meant to. She’s hot as in STOP traffic hot and if that’s not enough, she’s S.M.A.R.T. in capital letters.. Makes her living with numbers for Pete’s sake!!
So anyway, being an avid fan of Sex in the Woods and a good student to boot she got up the next morning, formulated a plan and left Richard a note worthy of his behavior. It went something like this:
“Since you have a lot on your mind and I’m not high on your list of priorities I’ve decided to take the weekend and figure out what MY priorities are”.
THAT’s my girl! No ugly scenes, no ultimatums, no begging for his love. Nope. She wrote just this one incredible sentence and got the heck out of Dodge! Yeah! So what do you think happened when he read said note? Well, first he blamed her for the whole situation. Isn’t that typical? I know women do this, too, but right now we’re talking about men so don’t get on my case, okay? When crappy guys screw up, their first reaction is to point the finger anywhere but at themselves.
Will someone (a man preferably) PLEASE tell me what’s so hard about sucking it up and being a stand up guy?? Is it really THAT hard to say, “Baby, I wasn’t in a good mood last night but I didn’t really mean to take it out on you. Can you forgive me?” Listen, after we picked our outstanding selves off the floor of COURSE we’d forgive you. All you have to do is ask – and then never but NEVER do that thing again. If you keep doing that same crappy thing over and over the “Baby, I’m sorry” spiel gets to be kind of meaningless. Know what I mean?
Anyway, after she called him out on the blame game and he figured out she really was going to stay AWAY from home for the weekend (like she said she was going to do) her crackberry hasn’t stopped dinging! He’s burning up the information hot lines with txt messages, phone calls, pics of himself, etc. Push – Pull. The chase; the hunt.
According to the Bit#h books she is doing just the right thing. And he is responding accordingly. Richard was being a, well, a Richard and Sophie decided to be a bit#h. Now, Sophie is not good at this but luckily for her-her bff IS! Again, we don’t mean for you ladies to be a mean Bit#h, but a sweet, charming, fully capable and independent woman. In fact, Sophie has a number of friends who were ready to give wise counsel and help her hold HIM to HER high standards. It had to be done.
Remember what Dr. Phil said long ago when he was on Oprah’s show? I’ll never forget this incredible, powerful bit of information.. Ladies – read, study, learn, apply. Here it is:
“You teach people how to treat you.” If any of you Sophie’s out there are having trouble with your significant (or not so significant) other perhaps you have taught him how to treat you. Stop it. Do you hear me? STOP it NOW!!! You deserve to be treated well so don’t let ANYone get away with treating you like crap.
We don’t know the details of the final outcome b/c right now she’s still deciding if he’s worth her time and he’s showing her all the reason why he is. Richard did a bad, bad thing and he has to convince Sophie that he will not do that again. His reasons could be many but none are worthy. We cannot speak to our significant others in a less than respectful manner if we expect them to continue to love us. Will she give him another chance? We’ll keep you posted…One thing we know for sure:
Sophie decided she deserved better treatment so she did something really simple to get his attention – she walked out when he wasn’t looking. When he checked out she checked out. When he did the unexpected she did the unexpected. She stood up for herself. She put herself at the top of her priority list since clearly he had taken her off of his.
If you ever find yourself in this situation and don’t know what to say to Richard, I’m gonna go with last weeks closing remarks:
“Feelin Froggy? Jump”.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Prince Charming MARRIES Cinderella…
by Crystal Laramore Lutz
…in an enchanted land far, far away.
Through all the moaning, bellyaching, griping and general bitc#!n& I did last year about Richard; after all the Big A$$ Shiraz in the Continental U.S. was consumed I must admit: it was all worth it to stumble into the arms of my true Prince Charming; the real Prince Charming; the one who DOES what the imposter promised.
My sister, Jacqueline, used to be a big-wig-banking-executive and her analogy for most men she dated was “The real man never shows up until about 3-6 mos. into dating. Nope, until they have you where they want you, they send their representative”. Snicker. Doesn’t this ring true! (BTW, she found her Prince Charming too!)
But when you Cinderellas out there (and we are ALL Cinderella!) meet your Prince Charming (and know how to keep him b/c you’ve been reading the books) he WILL marry you! That is what Princes do. It’s the frogs that kiss us, woo us, whisper sweet nothing’s in our ear, buy us flowers and chocolates and dump us (or prepare us for the dumping) via a text message. But, I’m not bitter.
Now, to be fair, if you are Cinderella and he is kissing and wooing and being generally superficial about the relationship yet you are sleeping in his kingdom without the keys or coloring in the fairy-tale book with his colors-you deserve to be dumped. There is too much coloring going on these days and not enough talking. Oh, shut up frogs!
Cinderella-if he is a Prince-he will want to talk to you. He will want to know your needs and desires (sometimes he’s trying to figure out if he can handle them so don’t have diarrhea of the mouth pls.) He will want to KNOW so he can ACT on this information. Action is the key here. Words mean nothing. Any old frog can croak out, “I love you.”
But, the REAL prince will woo you beyond your wildest imagination. He will listen to what you say. He will pay attention. He will respect your boundaries, so have some! He WANTS to know them because frogs and even princes will test the boundaries. But he also wants to know so he can fulfill your desires. Princes like doing that. They (the princes) get a kick out of making us happy! Anyway, like I said a minute ago – boundaries - get some! And keep them.
And if it’s a commitment you want, he’ll search his kingdom over until he has just the proper jewels to bestow upon you. But, you must have standards and make them known. Prince or frog; neither can read your lovely mind.
When my last frog (oh, I’ve been through many frogs and made ALL the mistakes) showed his ugly warts my Prince Charming Husband was hanging around waiting to pick up the pieces. I did not immediately warm up to him b/c I still had some ugly warts from the frog but, he was persistent. I gave him all the reasons I was not interested in him. I made him read the insanity that had been my life-yes, the same insanity you all read! Still, he was “all-in”. Why? Because he knew a Cinderella when he saw one. He knew how rare they were to find. And being a Prince and all he wasn’t afraid of the big, dark, scary, frightening word “commitment”. No, on the contrary he embraced the thought of happily ever-after with the princess he saw before him.
And let me tell you-I AM his princess. A year later, after an incredible courtship, wedding and honeymoon he is STILL treating me with all the love and respect and admiration a woman could ever hope to wrap her mind around. He IS my number one fan!
Just last night he gave me a hot oil treatment for my hair. (HIS IDEA LADIES) Since the magic potion had to sit for 15 minutes he rubbed my feet with exfoliating lotion and buffed my heels! Oh yeah! Now listen, HE lit the candles and incense and HE channeled Barry White and Aaron Neville through the iPOD.
Amazingly enough, he did all of this KNOWING there was a football game on that he could be watching in HD on the new LED! Oh yes he did! But wait-there’s more. After the hair treatment he poured me a glass of French wine, brought me Belgium dark chocolates, gave me an hour long Swedish massage and whispered sweet nothing’s in my ear.
At some point I vaguely remember asking him “How’d I get so lucky to marry such a good man”? He replied, as any Prince would, “Because you are a good woman”.
So the next time some guy is jerking you around, I have three tiny words for you to say to him: “Feeling froggy? Jump”!
…in an enchanted land far, far away.
Through all the moaning, bellyaching, griping and general bitc#!n& I did last year about Richard; after all the Big A$$ Shiraz in the Continental U.S. was consumed I must admit: it was all worth it to stumble into the arms of my true Prince Charming; the real Prince Charming; the one who DOES what the imposter promised.
My sister, Jacqueline, used to be a big-wig-banking-executive and her analogy for most men she dated was “The real man never shows up until about 3-6 mos. into dating. Nope, until they have you where they want you, they send their representative”. Snicker. Doesn’t this ring true! (BTW, she found her Prince Charming too!)
But when you Cinderellas out there (and we are ALL Cinderella!) meet your Prince Charming (and know how to keep him b/c you’ve been reading the books) he WILL marry you! That is what Princes do. It’s the frogs that kiss us, woo us, whisper sweet nothing’s in our ear, buy us flowers and chocolates and dump us (or prepare us for the dumping) via a text message. But, I’m not bitter.
Now, to be fair, if you are Cinderella and he is kissing and wooing and being generally superficial about the relationship yet you are sleeping in his kingdom without the keys or coloring in the fairy-tale book with his colors-you deserve to be dumped. There is too much coloring going on these days and not enough talking. Oh, shut up frogs!
Cinderella-if he is a Prince-he will want to talk to you. He will want to know your needs and desires (sometimes he’s trying to figure out if he can handle them so don’t have diarrhea of the mouth pls.) He will want to KNOW so he can ACT on this information. Action is the key here. Words mean nothing. Any old frog can croak out, “I love you.”
But, the REAL prince will woo you beyond your wildest imagination. He will listen to what you say. He will pay attention. He will respect your boundaries, so have some! He WANTS to know them because frogs and even princes will test the boundaries. But he also wants to know so he can fulfill your desires. Princes like doing that. They (the princes) get a kick out of making us happy! Anyway, like I said a minute ago – boundaries - get some! And keep them.
And if it’s a commitment you want, he’ll search his kingdom over until he has just the proper jewels to bestow upon you. But, you must have standards and make them known. Prince or frog; neither can read your lovely mind.
When my last frog (oh, I’ve been through many frogs and made ALL the mistakes) showed his ugly warts my Prince Charming Husband was hanging around waiting to pick up the pieces. I did not immediately warm up to him b/c I still had some ugly warts from the frog but, he was persistent. I gave him all the reasons I was not interested in him. I made him read the insanity that had been my life-yes, the same insanity you all read! Still, he was “all-in”. Why? Because he knew a Cinderella when he saw one. He knew how rare they were to find. And being a Prince and all he wasn’t afraid of the big, dark, scary, frightening word “commitment”. No, on the contrary he embraced the thought of happily ever-after with the princess he saw before him.
And let me tell you-I AM his princess. A year later, after an incredible courtship, wedding and honeymoon he is STILL treating me with all the love and respect and admiration a woman could ever hope to wrap her mind around. He IS my number one fan!
Just last night he gave me a hot oil treatment for my hair. (HIS IDEA LADIES) Since the magic potion had to sit for 15 minutes he rubbed my feet with exfoliating lotion and buffed my heels! Oh yeah! Now listen, HE lit the candles and incense and HE channeled Barry White and Aaron Neville through the iPOD.
Amazingly enough, he did all of this KNOWING there was a football game on that he could be watching in HD on the new LED! Oh yes he did! But wait-there’s more. After the hair treatment he poured me a glass of French wine, brought me Belgium dark chocolates, gave me an hour long Swedish massage and whispered sweet nothing’s in my ear.
At some point I vaguely remember asking him “How’d I get so lucky to marry such a good man”? He replied, as any Prince would, “Because you are a good woman”.
So the next time some guy is jerking you around, I have three tiny words for you to say to him: “Feeling froggy? Jump”!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Cindarella Married Her Prince Charming...
Check out the wedding pics at www.kauaiislandweddings.com
Photography
Lutz
Article to follow next week
Photography
Lutz
Article to follow next week
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Throwing Up Pretty, Broken Promises
By Crystal Laramore & Deborah K. Martin
We get letters…we turn them into articles…it’s our job…it’s what we do...call it a public service.
Dear Richard, (They are ALL Richards)
You’d think I’d be done with all the crying in my beer and hanging out at pity parties, what with all those black balloons and sharp objects...
Seriously, it’s been 4 ½ years and how many breakups/breakthroughs? How many times have you, Richard, charmed your way back into my life? How many times, Richard, have I let you? And how stupid does that make ME? (Wait, that’s a subject for another article…)
This time however, is different in some ways. For one, it's the last time. I felt the tension for months before finally bringing up the fact that I believed we made “a mistake”. You quickly agreed and we took it from there. It was all so civilized, wasn’t it ,Richard? We even continued to live in the same house, albeit in separate bedrooms. We didn’t even fight. We laughed. And you even said you felt like a P.O.S. I told you there was no need for you to feel like a P.O.S. But, Richard - I lied. You are and you should.
Why did I ever want to try again with you, Richard, after what you’d put me through before? I think it was those pretty words and your charming nature. Maybe you spiked my Big A$$ Shiraz (BAS) with prozac...We get along so well, you see, that I always find it hard to believe we’re not in love anymore. It’s like that Michael McDonald song “I keep forgettin we’re not in love anymore”. And Oh yes, there was a time when I was stupid-in-love with you. Love of my life, I’d say. Can’t imagine life without him, I’d say. Even though you Richard, never kept your promises and continued to behave like a P.O.S. Why IS that?? Looking back, I say to myself, “Self, what WERE ya thinkin’??” Clearly, not much of MYSELF…
I guess sometimes even a bond with the wrong person can be a very strong one (with enough BAS & Prozac). We have almost 5 years of history between us, some of it very good. But the bad stuff finally outweighed the good stuff. Your drama, your immaturity, your bigotry, your laziness in the relationship? Hard to ignore, but the one thing – the ONE thing Richard - I could no longer ignore was your “the grass is always greener” attitude. That killed it for me. And then I wanted to kill you and with BAS & Prozac lying around, well you can see my dilemma...
You never wanted me when you had me, only when you didn’t or when another relationship went sour. Since you were just as cruel to others I guess I shouldn’t take it personally, but it’s sure hard not to. It feels personal to hear you say, “I’ve FINALLY found someone I can dance with”, when you know that’s my favorite thing to do and you know I’m better than her! Am too! And too much dancing at your age Richard...well let's just say you've been warned.
Another cleverly delivered line was when you moved back to your own place and said, “I’m FINALLY (there’s that word again) home,” after I worked so hard to make OUR home a haven for you. Why do men do that? Why do they just stand there saying stupid $hit, begging to die? It’s like that song in Chicago : one verse goes like this here “And then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife 10 times”.
Anyhoo, it’s hard not to take things personally, Richard, when you continue to beg to come back only to start pulling away as soon as Three Men Movers pulls out of the gate. You loudly proclaim how wrong you were to leave, how simple life is with me and how complicated it is with everyone else – yet you still want someone (it seems anyone) else. Maybe you just have a crush on Three Men Movers. I’ve never been enough for you and that’s a feeling I no longer desire to experience. And where was LOVE in all this 'wanting to come back'?? NOW, with a little help from BAS & Prozac, I remember that you never said you missed me and LOVED me. You only said that I was easy (like Sunday morning?) Well, Richard, that’s no way to build a lifelong relationship.
I want someone who really loves me for who I am and appreciates what I bring to the table, besides the bone-in rib-eyes! For all your lip service, you never appreciated me and I don’t think you really loved me either. You said you did, but honey, words are cheap and plentiful. Without actions to back them up, the words only made me feel insecure. And if you were a real man Richard, you'd want your woman to feel loved and secure. Read that last sentence again, honey! If you were a REAL man, etc.
I'm not one of those “needy” women who have to have a man around to feel happy or complete. Having a good relationship is just a bonus as far as I’m concerned. But a relationship with you was kinda like a cash bonus, here one day gone the next. And when you go, like ya always do, AFTER the crying, AFTER the angst and self-doubt, AFTER the loneliness passes, Richard; I feel just fine. Better than fine. I feel like me again. And ya know what, Richard? I LIKE me and I LIKE life without your drama. I work with women, I have enough drama!
Maybe that’s part of your problem – you thrive on drama but can’t cope with everyday life. These days you’re back to club hopping. Really?! At your age??? (For the reader's he's in his late 50's.) When I’m thinking logically after a couple of bottles of BAS, I know that you are a very unhealthy person emotionally, and not nearly worthy of a terrific woman like me. I also know that if I’m patient with myself everything is going to be okay. If I can just stay away from the knife drawer next time you're near me. The challenge at the moment is getting from here to there; wanting to kill you phase to being ok phase; in case you can't connect the dots all by your selfish, worthless, POS self...oh my, did I say that out loud?
When I asked my best friend, Sophia, why I’m still feeling sad and angry even though I don’t want you back she said this: “It's all those pretty words they spoke from their pretty mouths that we ate up, digested and then had to puke up when they said ‘Sh!t. Never mind.’”
Then she told me to get a lot of BAS and Prozac. Duh! I'm a follower!
Broken promises are sharp like broken glass and hard to keep on the stomach. I guess I’ve still got some puking to do.
We get letters…we turn them into articles…it’s our job…it’s what we do...call it a public service.
Dear Richard, (They are ALL Richards)
You’d think I’d be done with all the crying in my beer and hanging out at pity parties, what with all those black balloons and sharp objects...
Seriously, it’s been 4 ½ years and how many breakups/breakthroughs? How many times have you, Richard, charmed your way back into my life? How many times, Richard, have I let you? And how stupid does that make ME? (Wait, that’s a subject for another article…)
This time however, is different in some ways. For one, it's the last time. I felt the tension for months before finally bringing up the fact that I believed we made “a mistake”. You quickly agreed and we took it from there. It was all so civilized, wasn’t it ,Richard? We even continued to live in the same house, albeit in separate bedrooms. We didn’t even fight. We laughed. And you even said you felt like a P.O.S. I told you there was no need for you to feel like a P.O.S. But, Richard - I lied. You are and you should.
Why did I ever want to try again with you, Richard, after what you’d put me through before? I think it was those pretty words and your charming nature. Maybe you spiked my Big A$$ Shiraz (BAS) with prozac...We get along so well, you see, that I always find it hard to believe we’re not in love anymore. It’s like that Michael McDonald song “I keep forgettin we’re not in love anymore”. And Oh yes, there was a time when I was stupid-in-love with you. Love of my life, I’d say. Can’t imagine life without him, I’d say. Even though you Richard, never kept your promises and continued to behave like a P.O.S. Why IS that?? Looking back, I say to myself, “Self, what WERE ya thinkin’??” Clearly, not much of MYSELF…
I guess sometimes even a bond with the wrong person can be a very strong one (with enough BAS & Prozac). We have almost 5 years of history between us, some of it very good. But the bad stuff finally outweighed the good stuff. Your drama, your immaturity, your bigotry, your laziness in the relationship? Hard to ignore, but the one thing – the ONE thing Richard - I could no longer ignore was your “the grass is always greener” attitude. That killed it for me. And then I wanted to kill you and with BAS & Prozac lying around, well you can see my dilemma...
You never wanted me when you had me, only when you didn’t or when another relationship went sour. Since you were just as cruel to others I guess I shouldn’t take it personally, but it’s sure hard not to. It feels personal to hear you say, “I’ve FINALLY found someone I can dance with”, when you know that’s my favorite thing to do and you know I’m better than her! Am too! And too much dancing at your age Richard...well let's just say you've been warned.
Another cleverly delivered line was when you moved back to your own place and said, “I’m FINALLY (there’s that word again) home,” after I worked so hard to make OUR home a haven for you. Why do men do that? Why do they just stand there saying stupid $hit, begging to die? It’s like that song in Chicago : one verse goes like this here “And then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife 10 times”.
Anyhoo, it’s hard not to take things personally, Richard, when you continue to beg to come back only to start pulling away as soon as Three Men Movers pulls out of the gate. You loudly proclaim how wrong you were to leave, how simple life is with me and how complicated it is with everyone else – yet you still want someone (it seems anyone) else. Maybe you just have a crush on Three Men Movers. I’ve never been enough for you and that’s a feeling I no longer desire to experience. And where was LOVE in all this 'wanting to come back'?? NOW, with a little help from BAS & Prozac, I remember that you never said you missed me and LOVED me. You only said that I was easy (like Sunday morning?) Well, Richard, that’s no way to build a lifelong relationship.
I want someone who really loves me for who I am and appreciates what I bring to the table, besides the bone-in rib-eyes! For all your lip service, you never appreciated me and I don’t think you really loved me either. You said you did, but honey, words are cheap and plentiful. Without actions to back them up, the words only made me feel insecure. And if you were a real man Richard, you'd want your woman to feel loved and secure. Read that last sentence again, honey! If you were a REAL man, etc.
I'm not one of those “needy” women who have to have a man around to feel happy or complete. Having a good relationship is just a bonus as far as I’m concerned. But a relationship with you was kinda like a cash bonus, here one day gone the next. And when you go, like ya always do, AFTER the crying, AFTER the angst and self-doubt, AFTER the loneliness passes, Richard; I feel just fine. Better than fine. I feel like me again. And ya know what, Richard? I LIKE me and I LIKE life without your drama. I work with women, I have enough drama!
Maybe that’s part of your problem – you thrive on drama but can’t cope with everyday life. These days you’re back to club hopping. Really?! At your age??? (For the reader's he's in his late 50's.) When I’m thinking logically after a couple of bottles of BAS, I know that you are a very unhealthy person emotionally, and not nearly worthy of a terrific woman like me. I also know that if I’m patient with myself everything is going to be okay. If I can just stay away from the knife drawer next time you're near me. The challenge at the moment is getting from here to there; wanting to kill you phase to being ok phase; in case you can't connect the dots all by your selfish, worthless, POS self...oh my, did I say that out loud?
When I asked my best friend, Sophia, why I’m still feeling sad and angry even though I don’t want you back she said this: “It's all those pretty words they spoke from their pretty mouths that we ate up, digested and then had to puke up when they said ‘Sh!t. Never mind.’”
Then she told me to get a lot of BAS and Prozac. Duh! I'm a follower!
Broken promises are sharp like broken glass and hard to keep on the stomach. I guess I’ve still got some puking to do.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Menopause; It Could Happen to You...
by Crystal Laramore
...EVEN IF you are a man! Just go back to Junior High English. Ever heard of the INDIRECT object? Yes, menopause could happen to you directly or INDIRECTLY! When you see it happening and you are not the one it's happening to, keep your mouth shut and step away from the direct object. Put all sharp and blunt, heavy objects away.
SO, there I was in my 20's minding my own business and others' too, when my thirties jumped out at me. Happy to have made it through the acid-trip-like adventure of my 20's I embraced my 30's with a vengeance. So, there I was learning to mind my own business in a land far, far away when my 40's showed up in an explosion of shrapnel and ear-piercing noises. Wait. Those were RPG’s! Anyhooo, life was so full of explosions and heat and young men that I barely noticed the earth shift; just a little shift, but a shift none-the-less.
Currently, I am sneaking up on 45. I don't how to define "I" anymore. The person typing this certainly isn't sneaking up on 45 but somewhere in my knees something is definitely sneaking up on something painful. Maybe that's 45?
When the first tremor hit...I was watching some mind altering television show like Grey's Anatomy or something when I needed to channel surf over to Desperate Housewives (I have goals). As usual I picked up the remote but for some reason known only to the mean gods of hahahahahaha you're getting old; the numbers/letters were blurry.
Inconceivably, I held out the remote and was able to see clearly. Only a couple of nights later I was spending the night with a girlfriend. She was cleaning her face and I was getting ready to watch the news or something when I had an out-of-body-experience. It was like dejavue. It was the whole "why are the letters/numbers so blurry” experience all over again. True to a tragic event I screamed like the girl in the B movies being chased by the blob! Deborah ran out of the bathroom with night cream dripping from her chin to save me with her cotton swab and all she saw was a helpless, frantic woman holding a remote control - close, far, close, far screaming every time it got "far" (b/c it was so much CLEARER!
One day I was again, minding my own business, driving along with the top down singing really loud to Rheana, when I was instantly struck with that hot, flush feeling I got in my 30's when a cute guy walked by or when I put that burn your buns dark tanning lotion on right before I went into the tanning bed for half an hour.
Whew, where did that come from?! I looked in my rear view mirror for the devil cuz I was sure he had finally caught up with me for my bad ways in my 20's. I turned side to side looking for him to be in a motorcycle with a helper in the side car and in a "flash" the heat and my overwhelming I-need-Prozac-paranoia, was gone.
And just two months ago my Aunt Flo forgot to visit. Look, when you've waited on your aunt your whole life and she always shows up then one day she doesn't show up what would YOU do? Me? Well, I bought 8 pregnancy tests and waited till I was about to puke from nerves and my whole staff was going to quit to take them.
Negative? WHAT? Look, my aunt is over two weeks late. Hmm. Well, finally she showed up but is now officially three weeks late AGAIN. Lucky for me I still have 5 pregnancy tests left. Yes, that means I took THREE last time. You can never be tooooo careful about these things.
Additionally over the last several months I’ve noticed black hairs in places no one ever told black hairs were supposed to be. Why are all the women in my family who are older than me such bitche$? Shouldn’t you pass along pertinent information regarding getting older to your young? Your friends? Your siblings? What the hell? It’s so NOT romantic for a man whom you are trying to be romantic with to say, with a contorted facial expression, “OMG! Is that a black hair”? Talk about kill joy!
As a preemptive strike to real therapy, I scheduled an urgent conference call with my best friend Jasmine (while having a hot flash in front of the paint man at Home Depot) who is older and oh so much wiser about such things. Getting older apparently does lots of weird things to your body. Without your permission. Anyway, after laughing hysterically and saying, "Welcome to the club, honey!" she shared her own experiences with little memory lapses, soaked-with-sweat bed sheets and outbursts of temper which were totally foreign to her. One of her relatives, Alexa, is currently going through some of the same things and as a matter of fact is about the same age as I am. Whoever “I” is these days…
We all understand that these things are part of the life process, but Geez Louise, we wish we'd had more warning. I guess it's one of those things that - until you go through it yourself - you just can't quite describe it to others but you sure as heck should try. I now have a whole new understanding of the word “sisterhood”.
...EVEN IF you are a man! Just go back to Junior High English. Ever heard of the INDIRECT object? Yes, menopause could happen to you directly or INDIRECTLY! When you see it happening and you are not the one it's happening to, keep your mouth shut and step away from the direct object. Put all sharp and blunt, heavy objects away.
SO, there I was in my 20's minding my own business and others' too, when my thirties jumped out at me. Happy to have made it through the acid-trip-like adventure of my 20's I embraced my 30's with a vengeance. So, there I was learning to mind my own business in a land far, far away when my 40's showed up in an explosion of shrapnel and ear-piercing noises. Wait. Those were RPG’s! Anyhooo, life was so full of explosions and heat and young men that I barely noticed the earth shift; just a little shift, but a shift none-the-less.
Currently, I am sneaking up on 45. I don't how to define "I" anymore. The person typing this certainly isn't sneaking up on 45 but somewhere in my knees something is definitely sneaking up on something painful. Maybe that's 45?
When the first tremor hit...I was watching some mind altering television show like Grey's Anatomy or something when I needed to channel surf over to Desperate Housewives (I have goals). As usual I picked up the remote but for some reason known only to the mean gods of hahahahahaha you're getting old; the numbers/letters were blurry.
Inconceivably, I held out the remote and was able to see clearly. Only a couple of nights later I was spending the night with a girlfriend. She was cleaning her face and I was getting ready to watch the news or something when I had an out-of-body-experience. It was like dejavue. It was the whole "why are the letters/numbers so blurry” experience all over again. True to a tragic event I screamed like the girl in the B movies being chased by the blob! Deborah ran out of the bathroom with night cream dripping from her chin to save me with her cotton swab and all she saw was a helpless, frantic woman holding a remote control - close, far, close, far screaming every time it got "far" (b/c it was so much CLEARER!
One day I was again, minding my own business, driving along with the top down singing really loud to Rheana, when I was instantly struck with that hot, flush feeling I got in my 30's when a cute guy walked by or when I put that burn your buns dark tanning lotion on right before I went into the tanning bed for half an hour.
Whew, where did that come from?! I looked in my rear view mirror for the devil cuz I was sure he had finally caught up with me for my bad ways in my 20's. I turned side to side looking for him to be in a motorcycle with a helper in the side car and in a "flash" the heat and my overwhelming I-need-Prozac-paranoia, was gone.
And just two months ago my Aunt Flo forgot to visit. Look, when you've waited on your aunt your whole life and she always shows up then one day she doesn't show up what would YOU do? Me? Well, I bought 8 pregnancy tests and waited till I was about to puke from nerves and my whole staff was going to quit to take them.
Negative? WHAT? Look, my aunt is over two weeks late. Hmm. Well, finally she showed up but is now officially three weeks late AGAIN. Lucky for me I still have 5 pregnancy tests left. Yes, that means I took THREE last time. You can never be tooooo careful about these things.
Additionally over the last several months I’ve noticed black hairs in places no one ever told black hairs were supposed to be. Why are all the women in my family who are older than me such bitche$? Shouldn’t you pass along pertinent information regarding getting older to your young? Your friends? Your siblings? What the hell? It’s so NOT romantic for a man whom you are trying to be romantic with to say, with a contorted facial expression, “OMG! Is that a black hair”? Talk about kill joy!
As a preemptive strike to real therapy, I scheduled an urgent conference call with my best friend Jasmine (while having a hot flash in front of the paint man at Home Depot) who is older and oh so much wiser about such things. Getting older apparently does lots of weird things to your body. Without your permission. Anyway, after laughing hysterically and saying, "Welcome to the club, honey!" she shared her own experiences with little memory lapses, soaked-with-sweat bed sheets and outbursts of temper which were totally foreign to her. One of her relatives, Alexa, is currently going through some of the same things and as a matter of fact is about the same age as I am. Whoever “I” is these days…
We all understand that these things are part of the life process, but Geez Louise, we wish we'd had more warning. I guess it's one of those things that - until you go through it yourself - you just can't quite describe it to others but you sure as heck should try. I now have a whole new understanding of the word “sisterhood”.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)