Random Musings

• How much do they pay those guys who stand on the corner waving signs about sales or store closings? It must be a lot because one of them was standing there in a thunderstorm and torrential rain yesterday. There's also been a lot of dancing jalapeno peppers and pita sandwiches to announce restaurant openings. If the job search doesn't work out, maybe I could do that.
• There's a lot of building going on around here and whenever we see some excavation starting, we joke that it's going to be a pharmacy. The sad thing is that it usually is. How many Rite Aids or CVS or Walgreens do we need? There are 5 intersections that immediately come to mind with a pharmacy on each corner. There must be a lot of $$ in prescriptions because all the other stuff in there is the same. Is the population really aging that fast?
• Why is it sunny all morning but as soon as the pool opens, we get thunderstorms and rain?
• For 2 weeks in a row, I have maintained and emptied my ironing basket. I'd like to say it's my commitment to organization, but it's really a comment on the horrible weather this summer and how much we have been indoors.
• We watched "Lady & the Tramp" the other day. It occurred to me that Jock & Trusty are offering to marry Lady not to get her out of the doghouse but because she's spent the night with Tramp, compromised her reputation and is already preggers. Please tell me I'm not the only weirdo who finds subtext in classic Disney films.
• We were talking about our "happy places" the other day and I said Wegman's was one of mine. Hmmmm.... grocery store as a happy place on one side of the scale, weight issues on the other... Hmmmm....
• The Friends of the Library are selling chocolate bars as a fundraiser. Since I'm at the library approximately 3 times a week, this is really good news. Or bad news, depending on my hormonal state at the moment.
• Why is it that I've taken 5 bags of clothes to Goodwill but I still don't have enough hangers?

And That, Gentlemen, is an Example of How NOT to Behave

It must be my week for peeves.

Ok, as much as I hate inappropriate cell phone use, intentional rudeness is worse. We should all be reminded on a daily basis that the world and its inhabitants do not revolve around us.

The boys and I were eating lunch in the cafe at our local Wegmans when a young woman started berating the elderly gentleman sitting behind her. Apparently, she was studying for an exam and was bothered by his loud cell phone conversation. What ensued was a much much much louder argument.

I sat there in amazement. What has happened to common courtesy? Both parties were in the wrong, but a public screaming match was totally unmerited. My only consolation was that (surprisingly) no swearing was involved. She could have moved if she was bothered by the noise or found a more appropriate place to study. He could have used a headset or earpiece if he had trouble hearing or found a more appropriate place to talk. Either of them could have made their grievances known to each other in a polite manner, if they felt the need to say anything at all.

He finally got up and left. She spent the next 10 minutes glaring at the rest of us with her hands over her ears. And then someone else sat behind her and whipped out their cell phone.

By then we were done eating, so we left. But talk about teachable moments!

Yadda Yadda Yadda

Today's topic is cell phones. At times I think they are the greatest invention of the modern world. What on earth did we do without them? We lost our friends and relations in warehouse clubs or the mall, we ran double the number of errands, we had people wondering if they should start calling the hospitals when we were merely stuck in traffic. And then there are the times, like today, when I curse cell phones and want to throw them all down a very big hole.

Just because you have a cell phone, that doesn't mean you have to use it constantly. Use a little restraint and common sense, people. Does everyone in the dentist's office waiting room need to know every little detail of your ugly family feud? The fact that your 13 year-old is shushing you and is totally mortified should have clued you in. Does the entire post office need to know the intimate details of your recent colonoscopy? Even your spouse probably doesn't want to know all of that.

Just because you have a cell phone and it rings, that doesn't mean you have to answer it. That's what voicemail is for. You can call back. Do I really need to know that you're in the bathroom? I can't help but picture (cringe) what you're doing with the hand that's not holding the phone.

If you must talk on the phone while driving (I know sometimes it is necessary), please use a headset or hang up while you're trying to parallel park. Or is it just me that needs two hands and complete and total focus for that?

I Probably Don't Want To Visit Your House

I've got to report a little peeve. Well a big one actually. In the past two weeks I've visited about 10 public bathrooms and all of them were disgusting. Not in the sense that management hadn't cleaned or maintained them. They were disgusting in the sense that patrons weren't using them correctly. It's pretty crowded in a restroom stall with two kids doing the potty dance and the space gets smaller when I've got to clean everything first before they can go. I'm trying to teach them to be neat and respectful of public spaces and the people whose job it is to clean them. That's difficult when they can see for themselves that no one else is bothering.

Come on people, I know your Mom taught you to flush! Yes, public restrooms have a high germ factor. But that's what the paper and the toilet seat covers are for. If there aren't any or you just can't bring yourself to sit, please wipe up the seat and the floor, so I don't have to. Go ahead, use all the paper you need. Use it all if you must. I always carry tissues but now I'm considering carrying Clorox wipes and the warehouse-club-size hand sanitizer too.

I'll bet you didn't wash your hands either.

Little Old Not-So-Crazy Neighbor Ladies

When I was a kid I used to sit outside and watch all the neighbor ladies sweeping. They swept their doorsteps. They swept their porches. They swept their stairs. They swept their sidewalks. They swept their driveways. Mrs. Correa even stood in the middle of the road and swept that! They swept like it was their personal mission to attack all dirt within a five-mile radius. When they swept it was like Charlie Brown's friend Pigpen walking by. And when they all got going at the same time, I had an idea of what the Dust Bowl might have been like. If I had known then what an anthropologist did, I'm sure I would have felt like I was studying an unknown culture's rituals.

I thought of all those neighbor ladies this morning as I swept my walk and driveway, tidying up after last night's lawn mowing. After I'd been responsible for a home of my own for awhile, I finally realized that all that sweeping outside made for less sweeping inside. I grew up with a mother who had a love affair with highly-starched curtains and thought the smell of ammonia and bleach mixed together was "lovely." In light of that fact, I think I can be forgiven for not necessarily placing housework high on my list of priorities. (Though my house isn't as grody as reading this blog regularly might lead you to believe. Honest!) But this morning as I got into the rhythm of sweeping and listened to the tchh-tchh-tchh of the broom on the concrete, I came to a new realization.

It's about more than cleanliness. It's neighborliness to the nth degree. It's about self-respect. It's about loving your family. It's about loving your neighborhood and the world at large. By showing that you care about your little corner of the world, you're also showing how much you care about everyone else's corners. Everyone in the world should have a corner of their own that's clean, well-swept and free of all manner of debris. Sadly, that's not a reality for many of our neighbors. But if we all do our best work, we can eventually help that come to pass. Some of us work to clean up the environment. Some of us work to make sure children grow to their fullest potential. Some of us provide food. Some of us serve and protect with their lives, be it in the military or as police officers and firefighters. Some of us bring joy through the arts. Some of us practice medicine. And some of us sweep. But no matter what job we're doing at any given moment, we're all doing the same job.

As I put the broom away, I said a little prayer and thanked all the neighbor ladies for showing me something so wonderfully important. Even if I didn't know it then.

You Can Call Me Ingrid

My sister-in-law and I were joking the other day about how some women try on their wedding dress on each anniversary. It's a cute idea but we'd never go there. D. overheard us and very nicely said that I'm skinnier now than when we got married. I said he was nuts, he insisted, we looked at the wedding photos, we still disagreed, he got some brownie points and we moved on. I put these pants on the other day and to my surprise, they were a bit big. I stepped on the scale and somehow I lost 10 lbs. It's been a long time since I weighed less than my husband. I'm not sure how that happened, but I think my friend S. has to get some of the credit since she's been convincing me to go to the gym and then I've actually broken a sweat once we get there. So I've been trying on a few other things in my closet, just to see...

I may have mentioned a few times that my favorite movie of all time is Indiscreet starring Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant. In 198-I-can't remember-that-far-back-exactly, I bought The Dress at Loehmann's Back Room because It reminded me of this ensemble from the movie (and because it was an unbelievable $25!):

In reality The Dress looks nothing like a Dior. But It is a classic Little Black Dress: princess-seamed, knee-length with a keyhole back and made from a heavy black brocade. The matching coat is the same fabric in white with a simple black jet button closure. When I bought It I had absolutely nowhere to wear It. I still don't. I wore It once for about an hour to a family Christmas party until I dripped cocktail sauce on the coat. I ran screaming for the stain remover and my predictable and oh-so-washable reindeer sweater.

Over the years The Dress has hung in my closet as a talisman of possibilities, a tribute to romance, and a wink at my inner-Ingrid. When size 11/12 was a long ago memory, It went in the Goodwill pile during every closet reorganization, only to be snatched back at the last minute. When I was in the midst of crazy quilting obsession, It went into the cut-it-up pile, but I could never bring myself to do it. And there It remained, unworn but well-loved.

The suspense was killing me, I had to try It on last night. I wouldn't necessarily say It fit, but It did zip. I didn't try to sit down and wearing It outside the house would require serious scary-undergarment intervention. But. The glimmer of all manner of unseen possibilities re-emerged.

In actuality, I may never wear The Dress. But those glimmers make me unbelievably happy. What possibilities have been turning up in your life lately?

Predict the Weather

Why is is 80 degrees and sunny until the day after I take the storm windows out and put the screens in?