First Time

I totally went to my first hockey game Friday night. It was awesome! I really loved it. I went with my dad and S. I had never gone to a game (of any kind) before. (Well, once in high school my girlfriend and I bought tickets from a scalper for a U of M hockey game, but I don't remember it.) Anyway, I had a great time. We were in the first row, right up against the glass. The first time a puck hit the glass, we all jumped a foot. The best part was when the players would slam up against the glass right in front of us. At first I didn't know what to do, but then, once I got into it, I really enjoyed it. The weirdest part was that there was no commentary, like on TV. I was totally thrown about that one. The dog from Marley & Me was there, because of a Dog Show in Detroit. And there was the cutest Pee Wee Playoff thing with these tiny kids in all this padding; they could barely move. In the end, we had fun, we ate in the Olympia Club, the Wings won, and I like hockey all the more. I also like that I have a special memory with my dad and S.

(I will write more about this in my journal... and maybe post it here later.)

FYI: We ended up on TV--and probably on the Jumbotron-like thing. *Ugh* My dad and I were clearly on, but S... well, S was behind a pole. My mom taped it and then two people at work made it a point to say that they saw us...

When you care enough...

to send the very best, you send a Hallmark. When you really want to tell your loved ones you care, you get life insurance--or so the ad says. Actually, it is a good idea. And this advertisement really got me. It's probably because S and I are talking about life insurance now that it spoke to me more so than normal, but I just thought I would share it.



I just like it. And I like that he started the conversation.

I love dogs

Seriously. My pups now are great. They make me laugh, they make me cry, they make me tired, they make me "human." If you've loved a dog, I think you will know what I mean. There is a sign I see in catalogs that says, "There's no greater joy in life than a puppy licking your face." I have to agree. One of the happiest moments in my life was when a friend surprised me by having me lay down on her kitchen floor, shut my eyes, and then released about 8 puppies from a room in her house. They were so small and fluffy. They were all jumping on me and licking at my face, ears, and nostrils. And while I could have done without a Puppy Chow and feces scented tongue up my nose, it was a moment I will never forget. It was: joy. And, really, that moment is often remembered as my "happy place." (Yes, I have a "happy place.")

However--and being a total dog person, mind you--I saw the puppy at the cute "Puppy of the Day" link at the bottom of my blog this morning. Don't get me wrong, I would still love it, but...



AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!

I jumped.

I mean, I adopted one of my dogs because someone said he was ugly. Wait, make that two of them. Still, this little one is, uh, to quote a Seinfeld episode, "breath-taking." And it's glowing alien eyes, uh, "breath-taking" as well? Poor puppy. And poor me. I think I am going to be attacked in my dreams tonight by a glowing-eyed rat ball.

Still, if no one else would adopt him, I would.


Maybe.

Words of Love for Valentine's Day

...or as I like to call it VD.

I just think it's ironic and humorous.

We are supposed to celebrate Valentine's Day tomorrow, but S completely surprised me today. I've known for a long time that he really doesn't give flowers, and he hasn't given any to me before, but he brought home 2 dozen stunning pink roses with 2 extra gorgeous red ones--to symbolize us--mixed in with them. I was speechless. And giddy. I love flowers and wanted them more than anything, but I didn't let myself think about them because I didn't think I would get any. He has no idea how happy he made me.

But, I am getting off track.

I've been pondering something as I am sorting through the 7 cards I bought for S for Valentine's: the wording the cards is interesting. I sift through them all in the store, spend a ton of money, and then get home and re-sift in an attempt to find the ones that say what I feel, because, of course, I can't say what I feel on my own. There is a distinct difference in the sentimental cards, though: the Me Card vs. the You Card.

The Me is the card centered on the person giving it, while the You is focused on the person receiving the card. It is pretty easy to distinguish between the two as the Me features lots of "I"s and "Me"s and the You sports, you guessed it, a bunch of "You"s. On some occasions card, shoppers can find a card--the prized card--that is the right blend of the Me and the You. It is a rare find indeed. And when you see it, you buy it, because it is "perfect." You may not know why; it just is. What you don't realize is that it is the Me/You blend.

Here's the problem with cards. It's the Me card. Too much of the Me can strike people funny. I mean, if you are giving a card to someone as a gift of sorts, you don't want the gift to be about you even if it says what you want or feel exactly. For example, as a birthday gift joke, I usually wrap up a couple used dog toys, from the dogs, for my parents on their birthday, just like a child might give a parent his or her favorite toy as a gift. It means, "I love you so much that I am willing to share my favorite thing with you." It is inherently sweet--from a child. Take it to the next level, though. "Honey, I just got you Madden 2009" or "Look, Sweetie, here's that new snow blower!" Yes, a wife or girlfriend may benefit from these things, but are they really focused on her? Let's see how this applies to cards:

Card #1

Loving you
means many things to me...
It means knowing
I have someone to rely on,
confide in, and trust...
it means knowing I have someone
who will share in my laughter,
my thoughts, and even
my disappointments...
But mostly it means,
that I always
have something
to be happy about...
because as long as we're together
the world
looks wonderful to me. --Robin St. John

Card #2

What is it about you?
Is it the warmth in your smile?
The way you can make
hours of conversation
seem like minutes?
Or is it the way
you look at me
that sees right through
to my heart?
Whatever it is,
It is something really wonderful--
because you are--
and it's something
that just feels
so right.
Happy Valentine's Day.


So, figure which is which? I think you did. So I am not giving you the answer. It can be tough, though, because sometimes there is a little of each with an overall skewing one way or the other. You just have to weigh them. As for me, I like both cards; obviously, or I would not have bought them as "potentials." If I got either, I would be happy. See, the Me doesn't bother me. In fact, I am a Me giver. However, I am acutely aware of the You card. It whispers to me, "Don't give him the Me; focus on the You." See, I think S probably likes the You better. It is focused on just him, and I think with his personality he would appreciate that style more.

So, I have searched for the rare diamond in the rough, the blended card, the one that says how he makes me feel and the one that says how wonderful he is. I have found two of them. Neither is perfect, and the first might be a bit too Me-like, but they are getting there. A little bit of Me and a little bit of You. I don't know which one to pick yet. I think the second one. While it is a bit focused and heavy on the Me at first, it has a nice blending and aftertaste of You--not unlike how we all start our relationships. It is a compromise. And a relationship does need to be about compromise.

Maybe I have made up my mind after all.


Card A

I always hoped
it was true--
that there is someone in the world
for each one of us to love.
After we met,
I just knew somehow
that you'd be the one for me.
I saw it in the way
you made me happy
whenever I was with you
and in the way you
could make me smile,
even when I didn't
really feel like smiling.
I saw it in the kindness
of your eyes,
the generosity of your spirit...
in the was we accept
each other's differences
and support
each other's dreams.
Over time,
I have come to see
that you complete me--
that our relationship
has helped me become
a better person.
I know that life
truly blessed me
when I found you,
and I promise
always to cherish
our once-in-a-lifetime love. --Emily Larkin


Card B

I'll always stand by you
as your lover, as your friend
and as your soul mate...
because there's nowhere else
I'd rather be.
Oh, I have lots of selfish reasons--
like how easy it is to be at your side
where life is never too scary,
where the future
is something we make together,
and where I simply adore
showing off to the world that you're mine.
But mostly, I'll stand by you
so you'll know that you're never alone,
that I believe in your dreams
and your choices,
and so that you'll know the strength
and comfort of my unconditional love.
I'll always stand by you
because I love you.
It's as simple as that. --S. Summers

Laund-o-rama

Isn't laundry one of life's most vicious cycles? We wash, we wear, we repeat. It's endless. I actually don't dislike the washing part. Maybe it is because I like water and the sheer thrill of soap turning into little, fluffy bubbles. But drying? Eh, not so much. There's no thrill there. (Granted, there are other ways to get a thrill with laundry, but I digress.) Anyway, I do enjoy the warm, Bounce-scented clothes when they comes out of the dryer. Jumping in them, tossing them on the cat, or playing tug-of-war with the dogs; that is fun. The problem for me, though, is getting the laundry to the dryer. I have a habit of just letting it sit the washer. Sometimes I forget about it for a day or two. Not a good thing--I assure you. Nevertheless, since I am down to my last pair of panties and am too tired to go to the store to buy more, I guess I have to venture into the hamper and throw some things in the washer. To quote that fish from Finding Nemo, "Bubbles!"

Back in the day

I wish I lived in a time where people were still friendly. Don't get me wrong; friendliness does still exist. However, 8 times out of 10, I would venture to say that if a stranger happened to be walking next to us down the street and attempted to start a conversation we would probably think 1 of 5 things: this person is selling something, this person is going to attack me, this person is crazy, this person is annoying, or "What person? I don't see any person. I'm just going to act like I am deaf and keep my head down." Granted, there are those of us, a rare few, that are "talkers." Often they are looked at with disdain by the rest of us, the "semi-talkers," the "placaters," the "non-talkers," the "avoiders," and the "don't-look-at-me-or-I-will-castrate-your-fluffy-kitten-ers." It really is sad and so different from the world where my grandparents and great-grandparents lived--a world where you genuinely wanted to know your neighbor and where you did just strike up conversations with people you didn't know. In fact, it would have been rude to not talk to someone next to you. Now we live in a society where we expect that someone is after something if he or she is just nice for no reason.

A couple days ago I was walking into the store and an old man started talking to me. My first thought was, "Ooookay." I gave a placating smile and subconsciously quickened my step; I justified it because it was cold outside. I consider myself to be a nice person and do talk with people in social situations, but I was surprised how awkward I felt as he just continued talking, making me slow to his pace. He talked about the cold, the parking spot, the holidays--just normal small talk--and I started to wonder just how far away from the store I had actually parked. He also mentioned his wife, lest I think he was trying to make time with me. Very cute. The truth of the matter is that by the time I held the door to the store open for him, I realized he pretty much made my day. It was a truly nice exchange. I got over the initial odd vibe and actually enjoyed our chat. The test will be if I talk to someone the next time I am walking into the store. Do I want to make myself vulnerable? Granted, the person will probably think I am nuts, but sometimes life is about taking that chance. I might go beyond the smile or the "Hi," the "Hey," or the "How are ya?" that you hope the person doesn't answer. Can you imagine just walking by someone , offering a brisk "How are ya?" and having the person stop and say, "Weeeeell, now that you ask. The gout is flairing up, I had to put my dog to sleep yesterday, I lost my credit card, and tomorrow is my birthday. How are you?"

Another situation popped up yesterday. I was walking out of the grocery when a woman who worked there said something along the lines of, "Excuse me. I know I just work here and shouldn't get personal, but you're looking really good." This could have been spurred by the fact I was in gym pants, but it was still a nice gesture. The funny thing is that just that afternoon I complimented a woman at my doctor's office on her nail polish; it was actually a very vibrant, over-the-top red, but I could tell that she was making a show of having her nails done. She beamed when I told her they looked pretty, not unlike I probably smiled when I got my compliment. I am one to take chances and compliment someone. I am not great at taking compliments back, but I am getting better. Many people don't care enough to take that extra step. I like seeing people smile, though. And the chat with the woman at the grocery definitely made me smile.

S has told me that I can be friendly to the point of being annoying. He said it didn't bother him, but that he wondered if it rubbed people the wrong way. You know, I am sure it does sometimes. Other times, though, people say I am refreshing. I would rather know that I might have made someone smile who would not have done so had I not taken a little extra step. I don't give false compliments, and I am not phony. I don't want to be sickly sweet, and I don't think I am, but I also don't want to temper myself. I would rather live in a by-gone era where people actually cared about each other. And I would actually like to give my neighbors cookies at Christmas, and maybe next year I will do just that. I think this world is what we make it. I'm not going to sing Kum-bi-ya 'round a campfire or anything, but I do think we get what we give. And, while I have been called a martyr, I know I am no saint; none of us are. However, I want to change the part of me that had that moment of annoyance and maybe even "Oh great!" dread when the old man spoke to me. It is in reaching out to one another that we are reminded how much we all are alike. William Allen White once said, "If each man or woman could understand that every other human life is as full of sorrows, or joys, or base temptations, of heartaches and remorse as his own... how much kinder, how much gentler he would be."

I think he is on to something.

What was she thinking?

So I am cutting through Macy's to get to Starbucks, and I see this little girl just staring at a picture on the lower half of the Dior make-up counter, perfectly placed at her eye-level. She was completely holding up traffic and her mother, oblivious on a cell phone, didn't even see her. I was curious as to what was holding her attention so strongly. I walk passed her and see this:



Okay, so it wasn't exactly THIS ad but it was close. It was the same shoot for the ad, but Charlize Theron was showing more boob. So here is this little one, about 6 or 7 years old, mesmerized by Charlize grabbing her dress and slathering herself in J'adore. (This is the same ad that spawned the commercial where she rips off all her clothes because nothing can satisfy her--not even diamonds--only J'Adore; you can YouTube it.) I almost felt sad. And so another little nubbin--this one with blonde hair in a little pink parka with a pink striped scarf and pink mittens--falls unknowingly into the crevasse... I know I am putting too many adult feelings on this one, but I just had this flash of how she is going to grow up--how she will see the world and how the world will see her. And, really, what she is going to have to do--and chose to sacrifice--to fit into it.

Anyway, as I ascended on the escalator to what should have been my warm Cinnamon Dolce respite, I started to feel my Women's Studies classes percolating inside me again. I remembered the statistic about 80% of 3rd grade girls already have been on a diet or currently being on one. I thought about all the research on socialization and how girls purposely start to "dumb down" in school to fit in. Granted, we have come a long way, but the rate at which it happens is still extreme. I also found myself thinking about the email wrote to my Goddaughter last night in response to her email about her mom being a "Nazi." She is growing up, becoming a woman, and definitely giving me the creeps as she does it in terms of the sex thing. Regardless, I worry about her conforming. She is so strong-willed, yet I see her cracking and wanting to be "popular." For example, I was visiting her this summer and took her to the mall. She was in a Pac Sun phase because she said that was where all the "rebels" shopped. Being a smartass, I countered with, "Well, if all the rebels shop there it doesn't sound too rebellious." She gave me "the look"--which I think she inherited from me. Point is... she is still her own person and I don't want her to forget that for her friends, for a guy, for anything--because I did and it took me a long time to remember who I was again. I think all teenagers go through that phase, but the number of girls who make it out is slim--especially when we live in a world of Acai berry diets, anal bleach, wrinkle creams, and airbrushed perfection on every magazine and TV screen. All sorts of things to make us not like who we are.

One good thing about the Macy's experience happened on my way down the escalator. The little girl was still there with her mouth open, but a high school girl in her black and orange varsity jacket also walked by--wearing these awful looking cotton polka dotted pants and snow boots. And, you know, I loved her for it. It is a sign that not all women get sucked into the vortex. Some swallow the red pill and reject the blue. I hope that one day the little pink parka girl ends up at the mall in polka dot pants. She may not like the Matrix, but it is better to be aware than to live in la la land.