Moving to a new state, neighborhood/area filled with strangers is daunting. But, I feel like we moved here with a positive, friendly and trusting mindset…maybe a little bit too trusting.
I shared the background of this post on Facebook, so I’ll copy/paste it here, in order to make a long story short:
The other day, a group of about 8-10 teen/pre-teen girls walked by our home, on the sidewalk. I was outside, watering the flowers. “I like those chairs!!!” one of the older girls exclaimed enthusiastically, about our two orange porch chairs. “Well, thank you!” I responded, feeling very happily June Cleaverish with my hose and blooming lilies. Naive, I am…because this morning, guess what was missing from our porch? I hope they’re at least enjoying their NEW home.
What I didn’t share then, was that after finding out we had our chairs stolen, the feeling of our new, nice, suburban area with friendly people in it suddenly felt muddled, unsafe — and I even felt exposed and vulnerable just leaving my doorstep to walk Moxie. I also didn’t share that after the girl yelled to me that she liked our chairs, I did get a twinge of alarm in the back of my mind, like maybe I should be putting the chairs away at night, or something. Finally, I also didn’t share that the group of 8-10 girls ranging from approximately 13 years old to 4 years old, without adult supervision, and who were throwing expletives, including the N-word, around to each other, were black. I didn’t share this, because I didn’t think it was important. Continue reading
Can we please, puhlease retire the following from existing? I beg. I implore. I beseech you. Their time has come and gone. I’m sure you agree. I’m also pretty sure we have the Kardashian family to blame for a good portion of these.
“That shi** cray.”
Any and every line from The Hangover(s).
“Brother from another mother”/”Sister from another mister.”
ALL SORTS OF BABY TALK. Example: “I luh yew” (I love you)”
“Let’s get crunk.”
“What’s up Chiquita banana?”
Thanks for your part in this forced retirement. Feel free to print this blog post out, and carry it in your pocket, handbag, etc., for quick, easy reference. And to spread the word. Together, we can make a difference.
I remember, years and years ago, a roommate asking me if I could save us money on our water bill — as well as leave more hot water to go around — and shave my legs outside of the shower.
That was seriously my response. Hey, I’m an only child. When it came to living with other women, it was my way or get out of the way. Besides, I don’t use shaving cream — just a plain ol’ bar of Dove — so that would have been nearly impossible for me. Not to mention a huge inconvenience and a waste of time.
I was online, checking out the reviews for a skincare brush — you know, one of those battery-powered, spinning Clarisonic things that’s supposed to make your face radiant — and I read this review where this woman was all, “I find this hard to use in the shower because it doesn’t come with anything for me to place or hang it on” and I was like, “ARE YOU 7?!” Continue reading
Remember in gym class, when your gym teacher would say something like, “OK…we’re gonna run a mile. Now, pace yourself, because you don’t want to sprint and tire out too soon”?
I think Lady Gaga sprinted right out of the gate and now she’s crawling to the finish line.
Shock value is great when it’s sporadic, unpredictable and on-topic/relevant. Otherwise, it looks like you’re trying too hard, you run out of material and thus — can’t one-up yourself at a steady pace.
JUST A HEADS-UP…the bottom half of the photo above is below, after the jump. Continue reading
“Follow your heart.”
“Trust your gut.”
Texas Giant at Six Flags
I completely believe in those cliches. Especially the second one, because while I think your “heart” can lead you to some sweet places, your gut instincts keep you safe. I like to think of it this way: When you feel your stomach drop and/or you have major stomach pains, you don’t want to do anything — except get rid of them. Time seems to stand still, and tunnel vision kicks in, making it impossible to focus on anything but the pains in your belly. So, you’re not likely to put yourself in bad situations when you have these pains. Does that make sense?
This story about the Texas mother who was thrown from the Six Flags roller coaster really bothered me and I’ll tell you why in a sec. But, the story goes that witnesses say the mom, Rosy Esparza, clicked her safety bar down once and then alerted a ride attendant that she didn’t feel safe and secure. The ride attendant was heard telling her, “As long as you heard it click, you’re OK”, but that everyone else on the ride around her made their safety bars click more than once.
The ride began, and Esparza was thrown from the coaster — the world’s steepest — at the first turn, to her death. While her children watched. We’ll never know if she was made to feel safe after the attendant’s halfhearted, apathetic assurance, or if she still had that unsafe, gut-instinctual feeling when the ride started.
The reason why this tragedy sticks with me is because last summer, while vacationing at the Jersey Shore, I nervously and excitedly got on one of their coasters where your feet hang and you go upside down a lot, The Great Nor’Easter. I clicked my safety harness down over my shoulders. It clicked twice. I pulled up on the harness and didn’t particularly like the amount of space between it and my body. Immediately, I was struck by a strong gut instinct-y feeling of, “I need another click”, but I couldn’t pull it to make it happen from the angle I was seated.
I love scary movies. Especially scary movies that revolve around paranormal and don’t rely on blood and gore. This one has a lot of hype around it, so I hope it lives up to it. And, I also sort of hope it doesn’t, because I am already dreading the moment I turn off my nightstand lamp.
I don’t love smokers. Sorry, but it’s true. OK, it’s not completely true, because I really just don’t like the fact that people smoke. And, I really, really don’t like litterers. You knew that already, though. And, when I see people tossing cigarettes to the ground, I go ballistic. So, when I realized my neighbors were doing just that…and letting them accumulate to the point of smelling and the butts blowing onto our lawn — I took action. Instead of what I wanted to do (confront them personally and let them know how much I don’t appreciate it, AKA letting my emotions get the best of me), I called the property management and politely and firmly complained. We’ll see. Continue reading