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Posts Tagged ‘Complaints’

Haircut leads to teen trauma #TransformationTuesday

Posted in Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on January 21, 2020| 6 Comments »

Teen survives bad haircut
From Staff Reports

ATLANTA — Though he could not see through the fringe of hair, Dominic C., 15, resisted the idea of a haircut. Clearly, his trepidation was warranted, as the resulting cut nearly ruined his social and academic life, according to him. What masqueraded as barely any cut at all to those around him, was, in the teen’s opinion, the worst thing that could have happened to him. In his life. Ever.

“He asked me if he could stay home from school,” said Eddie C., the teen’s father. “I hope you told him ‘no’ in a hot second,” the teen’s mother replied when she heard.

Beth C. exhibited no sympathy for the teen’s plight. The heartless woman even was reported as telling Dominic C., “I don’t understand how you can want a haircut, but want no hair to be cut at the same time.”

The shattered teen tried everything to hide the effects of what he called, “the worst cut of my life.” First, he tried a ski mask. Then added a hoodie. Then enlisted both parents in a campaign to use various hair products to regain some sense of style — exactly what style was unclear, however.

“Listen,” Beth C. finally said to the aggrieved teen, “I don’t know what the problem is. It looks exactly the same to me as it did before.”

His mother had the audacity to show him a photo of that time in third grade when she cut her own bangs. She then claimed her situation was worse. “I had an inch of hair on my forehead!” she said. “Yours still hits your eyebrows.”

The teen recovered in time to be able to make it to school the next day. The family is accepting notes of sympathy from other parents of teens.

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Here’s a post where a friend SWEARS he’s not old #SundayStories

Posted in Friends, Guest post, Random, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on January 19, 2020| 2 Comments »

Dear Readers,

I’m so excited that my badgering has paid off. Here’s another guest post. The Royce had a birthday last week, and it prompted some reflection.

I’ll be back next week with a story about the eldest. Parents with teenagers will relate.

Love,
Beth

This is The Royce in his natural habitat.

 

Aging vs. Old: A Rant
Guest post by The Royce

So, yesterday was my birthday. And that’s good because, hey, another trip around the sun, right? But somewhere along the way — in the last, oh say, few years or so (I don’t know whatever) — it occurred to me that, while I am not old (yet), I am, in fact, aging. Maybe I’m finally “of a certain age” — whatever the hell that entails — because, while I’m definitely still an easygoing person, little things are starting to grind my gears just a bit.

Like those damn neighborhood kids walking in my yard! LOLJK. (Note from Beth: I don’t think he is, in fact, JK.)

Though it’s commonly *cough* invariably *cough* attached to middle age and miracle creams, signs of aging actually applies to things other than crow’s feet and smile lines.

I’m talking about the less-obvious, non-physical signs of aging. Because like it or not, every day of every year, you’re aging. You just don’t notice it.

Until you do.

And then you notice it again. And again. It’s a lot like buying a new car that you thought was unique and rare until you drive off the lot and there’s three of the same vehicle waiting at the first intersection you get to.

On Jan. 13, 1974, the Super Bowl was on my seventh birthday, and I got to watch my favorite team, the Miami Dolphins, become two-time world champions against the Minnesota Vikings. Not a bad day for a kid.

In 2020, the game is three weeks later, two hours longer, and the pre-game show lasts half a day. WTH?

When did that happen?

You see, that’s not old. That’s aging.

Recently I went out with my lovely wife to meet some friends visiting from out of town. We arrived a few minutes early and looked over the drink menu while we waited.

I’m sorry, but WTF?! How did a cocktail get to be $14 in this town? (Note from Beth: They live in Savannah.) Did I teleport to Manhattan when I walked
through the door to this place?

Again: Not old. Aging.

You know why people don’t go out as much when they get a little older? It’s less about being tired and more because we don’t want to get bent over paying those ridiculous prices every time we feel like having a nice meal somewhere. Hey, how about we go out for dinner and have a couple glasses of WELL SHIT THERE GOES A HUNDRED BUCKS.

No, it’s not denial. Old will, with some luck, arrive eventually.

But for now … nah, not old. Merely aging, just like I have every day of my life. And considering the alternative, I’m fine with that.

Seriously, though. Would it kill the little cretins to stay off my lawn?

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Here piggy, piggy: A follow up #Wednesdaywisdom

Posted in Advice, tagged , , , , , , on January 15, 2020| Leave a Comment »

What’s this about bringing home the bacon?

Dear Friends Who Were Shocked I Didn’t Call Someone Out on Chauvinist Crap,

Y’all (rightfully) pointed out that it was not like me to stay quiet when someone says something backwards or dumb. I defended myself in this instance saying that the fellow in question was about 90 and deaf, and I’m a new member of the organization.

Still.

At the very least, I should have just made a joke about it right then and there.

But here’s a followup:

I had lunch yesterday with the female past president who was sitting next to our elderly subject when he made the comment. She was the first female member and first female president of this organization. And, in fact, some members left the organization when she joined. Granted, this was 30 years ago.

I shared with her my mortification. She said she was shocked too, as this man has always been a huge supporter of women in the club, herself included.

We talked a while. In short, our 94-year-old friend may have some cognitive decline that caused his commentary.

So.

Saying something wouldn’t have made a difference. And I know everyone else at the table felt the same way I did, so no education needed there.

But still, I’ve learned a valuable lesson.

See/hear something: Say something — anything!

It’s a good reminder for everyone: Things won’t change with silence.

Yours sincerely,
Beth

 

 

 

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Apparently, there’s still something “little” about women: A shocking story #ThursdayThoughts

Posted in Advice, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on January 8, 2020| Leave a Comment »

Dear Fellow Strong Women:

I went to see “Little Women” with a group of ladies from a professional organization to which I belong.

Despite my love of reading and being an English major for one of my undergraduate degrees, I have never read the book.

(I’ll pause for a collective gasp.)

It’s probably because I was expected to read it as I was named after Beth March. Yeah, the quiet one. Haha!

I know of it, of course. And I’m sure I’d like it as much as Joey did when he read it.

Usually, I read the book then see the movie. I’m that kind of person. (The only movie that is better than the book, IMHO, is “Misery.”)

Anyway, I thought Greta Gerwig’s creation was spectacular. I laughed. I cried. It was better than “Cats.”

At one point, Amy says she is going to be an “ornament to society,” and I was reminded of something that happened at the weekly meeting of this professional group earlier in the day.

The group is mostly older white men. (Typical.)

The leaders of the membership committee solicited ideas for increasing membership via distributing selected topics at each table. My table had the topic of how to increase membership among women.

The oldest dude (about 90 and deaf) at a table of four men and four women actually said this:

Their husbands are working 8-10 hours a day bringing home the bacon. It shouldn’t be too hard to recruit more women as their schedules are more flexible.

Right.

And there was silence.

Now, I’m a brand-new member of this group. I didn’t feel comfortable barking at this man that I work 8-10 hours a day bringing home the bacon. Instead, I got up to get coffee from the coffee table.

A woman who is a past president of the group was sitting next to him. She looked properly mortified. I don’t know if she said something to him privately later. I’m going to ask her at the next meeting.

When I shared this anecdote with my boss, who is a former member of this group (and an older white male, it should be noted), he also was mortified.

But he asked a crucial question:

He wouldn’t have said something like that about an ethnic minority group or the LBGTQ community. Why did he feel it was OK to share outdated views of women?

Why indeed.

It’s time to stop being “ornaments to society.” How do we do that? What should I have done? What about the other women at the table? What should I do now?

Please share your thoughts.

And go see “Little Women” whether you have read the book or not.

“The world is hard on ambitious girls.” That’s right, Amy.

Yours in solidarity,
Beth

 

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More non-resolutions: A guest post! #SundayStories #2020

Posted in Friends, Random, tagged , , , , , , , , , on January 5, 2020| Leave a Comment »

Dear Readers:

My last post resonated with a few of my female friends. A college friend, “Sue,” wrote the following that she said I could share as a guest post. (And you know I love a good guest post.)

See you Monday with fresh content from me, courtesy of Gideon.

Beth

My own non-resolutions
By “Sue Buckley”

This year, I will not:

  • Keep those heels I think that I might wear just one more time. You know the ones. My knee and ankle … done.
  • Brexit quietly or vote for Trump. I demand IQ tests with a score range of at least superior or gifted — depending upon the scale — for all voters.
  • Wear all that odd jewelry I’ve accumulated over the years. In fact, I may give it away.
  • Obsess over the last time I changed the kitchen sponge. (Trust me: This haunts me.)
  • Blurt out what I “really think” during a video call. It’s impossible to hide my face. Learned this from experience, and it’s easier without the visual.
  • Say yes when I mean no. I was taught this during my formative years, but it wandered back in. I don’t have to spend my time anywhere or with anyone if it’s not valuable (true friends and family excluded).
  • Not shut up about menopause. I don’t care how boring it gets. They don’t tell you this shit. 
  • Not finish my book. (Beth and I have the same goal.) It’s happening this year.

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Roadside America: Georgia edition #TravelTuesday

Posted in Grammar, etc., Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on December 31, 2019| 2 Comments »

Dear Highway Convenience Stores:

You are the great equalizer. You bring all travelers together, and do not discriminate.

Everyone will need to get gas.

Everyone will need to pee.

Everyone will need a snack.

Perhaps this:

I am addicted to Slim Jims, preferably the Tabasco-flavored ones. At Al’s Market in Forsyth, only a few original flavored remained.

Of course I picked up the empty boxes of the other flavors, and asked the cashier.

Me: Any more of these anywhere?
Her: They all got gone yesterday when everyone was traveling.

Ah yes. Everyone traveling over the holidays, including me. I drove back and forth to Savannah twice.

So I saw plenty in your environs.

Some things to brand me as the redneck I can be:

Some things to confuse me:

Who flushes part of the way and why?

Many things, actually.

I really am not that close with someone to make full use of this bathroom.

And some that annoy:

Should I also notify the cashier about missing punctuation?

Thank you for your existence, and for your capacity to amuse me.

Happy New Year!
Beth

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Fun family festivities with friends #SundayStories

Posted in Friends, Random, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 28, 2019| Leave a Comment »

Dear McKinnons,

Every time we stay with you, we have something to laugh about. From Petra trying to fatten us up like Thanksgiving turkeys to Patrick disappearing in the middle of the conversation to go to Home Depot, it’s always an adventure.

On Thursday, I walked into your house with the family. Patrick took one look at me.

Him: What’s on your pants?
Me: Serial killers.
Him: Is that a band?
Me: No. Real serial killers. You know. Like Charles Manson.

(The leggings I mentioned in this post.)

This time, even Ryder and Mia gave us a laugh.

After I tagged along on the guys’ outing to see “Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker” Friday (the bros and a bra), we discussed the finer points of some key deaths. (No spoilers.)

Ryder went back into the vault to describe Obi Wan’s death like this:

His towel dropped.

I laughed so hard, I was wheezing.

(Ryder then asked if he was going to make it into my blog finally. Yes, my young padawan.)

Mia, who has a competitive streak like her father, did not want said father to win the Uno game Friday.

She turned to me, sitting next to Pat as I always do.

Her: You got something for him?
Me: I do.

She plays a color she knows I have. I throw down a reverse. She wins the game. We high five, because she won and not Pat.

Evil. I love it.

Saturday, Petra and I were having a serious conversation about the deaths of our fathers and subsequent guilt.

Here comes Pat to vacuum right behind her.

Petra and I looked at each other. Shocked. Then started laughing because OF COURSE HE HAD TO DO THAT RIGHT THEN.

Then last night, we all played a Pictionary-like game called “Buzz Draw.”

Naturally, someone yells out “penis” if anything is remotely phallic. (Like there is ever going to be a penis prompt on a family game card.)

Gideon drew “winter.” He thought at first that no one got it.

Mia: I said ‘winter’ a long time ago!
Pat: But I yelled ‘penis’ at the same time.

Speaking of penis, your dog Angus took an unusual interest in me.

I feel like I need a restraining order. Counseling at the very least.

Here he is rubbing his slobbery toy all over me under the table.

It’s better than what he usually rubs on me. (Hint: See theme of the game above.)

Perv.

Anyway, thanks for letting us stay with you this weekend. And thanks especially for the laughs.

Love,
Beth

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A note to the eldest child on his birthday #WayBackWednesday

Posted in Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , on November 27, 2019| Leave a Comment »

Dear Dominic,

Today you are 15. You were supposed to be born Dec. 13, but you couldn’t wait to get out into the world.

I knew you were coming early, especially as right around Thanksgiving would be a supremely bad time for you to come. Your father and Terri, my backup push coach, would both be out of town. (Remember, your dad was coaching basketball at the time.)

The doctor examined me at the beginning of Thanksgiving week, and said you weren’t coming.

But I knew better: Any child of mine would do things his own way.

So when I was doubled over in Target the day after Thanksgiving, I knew.

When my pain got unbearable, I called in BABY COMING to the TV station, and checked myself into the hospital.

The attending doctor told me to suck it up. That you weren’t coming. And to go home.

I basically told that asshat to shove it. I refused to leave. I told him to call my doctor, put a fetal monitor on me, do an exam — whatever he needed to do to be convinced.

(Thinking, “Just come closer so I can show you what pain is like.”)

Saturday morning, my doctor arrived, and checked me out.

Oh! You’re about to have this baby!

Yeah. No shit.

I called your father back from wherever he was. (Randy, thank you for driving him back.)

I called in your aunt to be backup for Terri.

After a failed epidural and, thus, incredible pain and gnashing of teeth, you arrived.

There has been a different kind of pain and gnashing of teeth as you navigate puberty.

But you’ve been mostly great lately.

When I was out of town last weekend, I couldn’t believe it was YOU texting me this:

Though the lack of punctuation and capitalization drives me batshit crazy, I do appreciate the sentiment.

And I loved laughing with you last night at Donkey’s mange line in “Shrek Forever After.”

Have we come out the other side?

That would be great.

And thanks for making me giggle this morning when you came out with the stick you call your “thotslayer” to keep me from spanking you for your birthday.

Happy birthday to my smart smartass. I do love you.
Mama

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The plane truth about seat etiquette #FridayFeeling

Posted in Advice, tagged , , , , , , , , on November 22, 2019| 2 Comments »

Dear Obnoxious Man in 10D,

Why can’t you just be a d-bag in private? Why must you let your fool flag fly on this plane?

I’ve been sitting next to you for 10 minutes and you’ve made three loud-as-hell calls.

I don’t care about Kevin or his long-term goals. I’m not interested in the project that’s six months away. And I am not impressed that you need to spell out the timeline to people who don’t get it.

I need you to shut up.

Sit quietly in your middle seat.

Read a damn book.

Or maybe read this post where I talk about having manners in a public place.

Please let me enjoy this flight to a leadership conference in peace.

Thank you,
10E

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Dating advice for men looking for women in 2019 #SundayStories

Posted in Advice, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 10, 2019| Leave a Comment »

Dear Men of a Certain Age at a Bar:

Look. Listen.

I know you want love — or at least a little action. You can have it, but you have to follow some rules.

Auntie Beth is here to help.

DO: Try to catch the eye of someone you find interesting.
DON’T: Stare at her like a complete creep.

DO: Check to see if she is wearing a wedding ring.
DON’T: Make any kind of move if she is. It’s true that some ladies might still be interested, but let those ladies be the instigators.

DO: Leave her alone if she is clearly in a group, and having a full conversation with someone.
DON’T: Rub all up on her like a cat on an allergic guest’s leg.

DO: Continue your hunt for eligible ladies by scoping out the rest of the bar.
DON’T: Put your hand on the aforementioned woman’s thigh. And if you do it anyway, and if she firmly brushes you away, don’t put your other hand on her waist. This isn’t Jersey Shore, and this chick ain’t no Angelina.

DO: Leave her the F alone if she turns to you, looks you square in the face, and clearly and calmly says, “Stop touching me. I’m married, and not interested.”
DON’T: Keep on trying to touch her, forcing her to inform one of her male friends who then has to stand between you and her.

DO: Move on! There are plenty of seemingly eligible and attractive ladies in this bar. (Really? We needed to get all the way to this step?)
DON’T: Ask her if she wants to come outside for a smoke.

Women are not that mysterious. We will let you know if we are interested. And we are more empowered than ever before to tell you when we are not.

Don’t be THAT GUY at The Lizardmen 25th Anniversary show, which was amazing despite the bar shenanigans.

Sincerely,
Auntie Beth, who did not fully F politeness last night, but also did not suffer fools.

Here’s Auntie Beth with her friend Jeff, whom she likes and willingly got near.

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