Jeopardy question: When is it ‘too little, too late’?
In 1989 I met a family that a year later I would become a part of. I had come from a place and family from the mid-west U.S. and was about to enter a very American-European family on the east coast. I was insecure about fitting into a family. Put me in a room with 30-100 strangers and I was the life of the party. Put me in a living room with 15 folks that were about to welcome me as sister, daughter, etc, and I had utter stage fright.
I came from a family where I had not hugged anyone in years, except a side arm hug at the airport and a bear hug from my mother who had longed for that for years herself. I entered a house where every face was kissing me and every arm was hugging me. But I still felt outside. Why?
I didn’t know how to express affection that way. I wanted it, but I was afraid of it. I questioned their motives, I assumed they didn’t accept me. Didn’t like me.
Didn’t get me.
My body is revolting. It is telling me things about the life I have lived and the myriad of ways I have abused it. I am 54. I could easily live 30 more years or more based on my health as I saw it 30 years ago. But now, I get warning signs. I lose friends. Friends younger than I are dying suddenly. I am surrounded by cancer.
Why have I written all these very not-cheerful words? Because we all have a time when we face ourselves. For some it is at 40. For others, 70. For me it was 50, but I ignored it until this past year. I became overly sentimental and mawkish about the smallest details. Everything meant something. A cough, a twinge, a sudden chill.
- I’m using this Monday as a do-over from last week. Last week sucked balls. And you know I never use that language. But seriously. Sucked. Donkey. Ba…..well you know
- In all fairness much of the crappiness of last week was my own fault so I’m done complaining. But that felt good and circumvented hours of whining to the husband which would start off another bad week and we don’t want that, do we
- Question: what do you do to calm and soothe yourself? You’ve got your yoga and eating the ice cream from the container with a spoon approaches. But do you do anything quirky for your decompression time?
- For me it’s very bad Lifetime movies or if it’s really horrible, Hallmark Christmas films. Even when it’s not Christmas
- The first Christmas without the kids I watched Christmas with the Kranks fifteen times. True story
- Nah, didn’t really help until I ate the ice cream as well
- Complaining really isn’t healthy and passes bad juju around. Sorry about that. I think I won’t delete it though. Transparency is very trendy and I don’t want to come off as perfect because that would be worse
- I’m learning to make pepper steak tonight. Hubby says it won’t work because I bought the wrong beef, but he’ll eat those words. It will be delicious and that will show him
- When I used to cook it for a family I worked for as a domestic, I always put slices of tomatoes in it at the end. But none of the the recipes I’ve found use tomatoes. Do you put toms in yours?
- Enjoy this new wave 80’s song to start off the week sad and sweet, and hey, don’t eat all the ice cream, have some kale as well
Have a great Monday!
You know what, how about one more hit from the 80’s. It’s like a big hug
This is an old fashioned Monday Random in its purest form – a stream of consciousness – thoughts with no theme. Yesterday required a lot of talking. Today – everything I want to say is lined up in my mind like bullet points. So let’s get to it.
- There is something to be said for pizza suppers with only two plates and two glasses to wash after I’ve left them overnight
- Not paper plates because I don’t like to use many disposables
- We are going on a trip this summer we cannot afford
- To save money we are eating eggs at 2/3 meals and found this is a very easy way to cut down on grocery costs
- Salsa is a great ingredient for putting tomatoes and onions in the eggs when I am out of produce
- Plus you can’t get a good tomato in May
- My mother’s day became very special with an unexpected phone call and I am utterly grateful
- For someone writing with brevity I am using a shit-ton of adverbs
- I’m really grateful and happy for yesterday
- I promised I would spend nothing on myself last week then bought a book of poetry
- It’s a disease
- I learned something this week about negotiating conflict
- Explaining well is no guarantee someone will agree with me
- I can live with them not agreeing with me
- Talking things out is less important for convincing someone of my side and more important for learning to listen and seeing what they have to say
- It seems you can sell some very bad poetry when you include a photo of a bare ass
Have a great Monday, and I will try and do the same !
As I am one of the three people in the world that does not use a cell phone, I am going to toss this question out to you. I’m working on a story and this dude is 38 and doesn’t pay attention to trends, or hang out on the internet. He has an older phone that he uses only for a phone. I first wrote it in 2013 and said he used a Blackberry. Does anyone still use a Blackberry? Do they still function? Might they still a year from now (when this book might get published)?
What would be the oldest functioning phone he might use still? Any suggestions? I’d really appreciate it. I have no clue about these things and I don’t want it to sound stupid.
Your two cents is requested-
It was supposed to be a one-night stand. A dalliance, that by some is viewed as harmless. Harmless to any long-lasting problems, harmless to the marriage in general. An adventure. A door that opens and closes, almost upon itself. Then again, some doors should not be opened because they cannot be closed again. This was 1987. The AIDS crisis gave us plenty to be concerned about. But I am getting ahead of myself in the story.
I am revising an old feature called ‘Burning Question’, a category under which I ask a variety of curious question, some urgent and some not so much. This question lies somewhere in the middle
Around my very modest circles I am known for my cookies. No, that is not a euphemism, it is true. I have nice cookies. Sumptuous and delectable. I also make a mean lasagne and I am known for my homemade soup.
During a recent conversation with my husband of 27 years, he said that there was only one meal he could remember that he didn’t like. Holy crap, did he say my meatloaf? But that is so basic in the U.S. Everyone can make meatloaf. Though I have had a few at pot luck dinners that were kind of dry and sad. But I digress.
So the gauntlet has been tossed, the challenge thrown down, and I do feel this urgency to make a really delicious meatloaf. One thing I know is that he does not like the old spread-ketchup-on-the-top type of meatloaf, or even braising in marinara like my mother used to make. He likes brown gravies and doesn’t like mushrooms.
If you have a recipe you’d like to share, or a good tip for making this a meal to remember, please leave it in the comments or mail it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Thank you in advance. Your two cents is requested-