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Posts Tagged ‘Peeves’

Captain’s Log: Day 3

Eight states and 12 hours later, we arrived in the thriving metropolis of Newark.

You may be asking, “Why? Oh God, Woman, why Newark?”

Because the budget for this trip from hell does not include $400 per night for a New York hotel.

Featuring reasonable hotel rates and convenient (sort of) train service to New York City, Newark it is.

On the way up, we stopped at a place that looms large in my memory from road trips with my parents: Roadside America.

My boys loved it as much as I did. That right there almost made the whole fiasco worthwhile.

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Today we head to NYC where the main attraction — and the reason we couldn’t cancel this trip — awaits us on the Great White Way: tickets to Spider-Man and Wicked.

We’re all pretty excited. We’re ignoring all the news reports that feature phrases we don’t want to hear — phrases such as “heat advisory” and “hottest day of the year.”

We’re going to make this work.
Beth

Coming tomorrow: Land of my father

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On the road again

Captain’s Log: Day 2

We are on our way. The “we” does not include my father.

I’m sorry (not sorry) to say we abandoned him and his motor home like rats leaving a sinking ship.

Let me explain.

When last I wrote, we were waiting for the RV to get out of the shop. We waited the whole day, trapped in the dollhouse. There’s nothing I hate more than waiting (except for maybe a guy named Tony, but that’s another story).

The estimated time for completion was noon. Then it was 3 p.m. Then “come on by and we will get it to you before we close.”

We showed up and saw this:

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Keep in mind that the mechanics had it since last Tuesday!

They got the tires on by 5:30 p.m. As we were paying, this happened:

Dad: “Did you check the generator?”
Shop dude: “No, we didn’t get to that.”

Uh oh.

No generator = no air + no electricity
No generator = no trip

Fine. Trip cancelled and we go home, right?

Not so fast.

Eddie and I had the bright idea to take the kids to New York to see “Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark” and “Wicked.” After all, NYC is only a little over an hour away from Easton.

Yeah, I bought tickets.
I’m a planner.
It’s a curse.
Clearly.

So we had to go or lose (more) money.

We threw sandwiches down our gullets, tossed the suitcases in the back of our truck, shoved the kids into the back, and took off in a cloud of dust.

We were headed north by 7 p.m. No lie.

We passed this on the way out:

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Dad killed Bobby the Lion with his mad RV driving skilz.

Maybe it’s best we postponed the RV trip with Dad until spring break.

Stay tuned,
Beth

Coming tomorrow: Glorious Newark, Treasure of Jersey

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I’m falling apart

Listen, Body Parts: We need to talk.

Bladder, I’ll start with you. I’m fine with hanging out with you during the day, but this 2:30 a.m. desperate cry for attention is getting on my nerves. And Brain, just because Bladder is up, that doesn’t mean you have to be also.

Neck, I’m not sure why you are cranky all of a sudden, but you need to get over yourself. It shouldn’t be all about you. Now everyone else is overcompensating because you don’t want to move. Get with the program!

Metabolism, I’m still not speaking to you after you started to balk at carbs and bacon.

Skin, what’s with the random displays of pigment and dry patches? I thought we were good. I take care of you with hundreds of dollars worth of potions and this is how you repay me?

All of you renegades need to take a cue from the Eyes. They are doing their job, working well with others, and are not clamoring for attention.

So this is a warning that you all need to settle down. Don’t make me have to call in backup.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Paula in happier days

Dear Paula Deen:

I know you are going through a rough time right now. Even with the chaos in Texas (go Wendy!) and the Supreme Court decision on that stupid Defense of Marriage Act (you know how I feel about that), you are still in the spotlight.

By all accounts (from people who know you, worked for you, still work for you, were raised by you, etc.) you are not racist by definition. Hard-driving, stubborn and raunchy, perhaps, but not racist. The plaintiff in that year-old lawsuit (who is white, surprisingly) even admits she never heard you make racist remarks.

It’s never OK to use THAT word (or any derogatory word like that). But I’m willing to cut you some slack on a 30-year-old mistake. (Especially as you apologized. Repeatedly.)

I mean, let’s be honest here: Who hasn’t had some tragic lapses in judgment? Let’s look at some of the decades-old moments for which I need to atone:

  1. St. Patrick’s Day 1993
  2. Fancy Dress 1989
  3. That one time at drama camp …
  4. Dating the dude from Macy’s receiving department (My dad’s observation: “Doesn’t that guy own any shirts with sleeves?”)
  5. This dress:Prom 1985 (It’s no wonder I don’t have a stitch of lace in my closet now. I reached my Designated Lace Quota in 1985.)
  6. This hair: '80s hair(Aqua Net was my best friend.)
  7. While we’re at it, this hair too: Blonde ambition(The ill-advised blonde ambition phase. What the what?)
  8. Being a mean girl to a nice boy who asked me to a dance. And not being a mean girl to a not-so-nice boy who asked me to a different dance. (That boy ended up talking through dinner about all the times in his life he had barfed. I sure know how to pick ’em.)
  9. Not buying that house on Jones Street.
  10. Allowing Neil the Cockatiel to escape the dorm suite I shared with his mom.

I’m sure I’ve committed many more sins than I can remember right now. We all have regrets. We all don’t have to fess up to them in a deposition.

Good luck with everything. You know how people are when they decide to make someone a scapegoat. If you need a personal pick-me-up, read a blog post by Michael Twitty, a fellow who addresses the real problem in an eloquent way.

It’s not all about you; it’s about pervasive, systemic racism. It’s about the real challenges people who are not white face. And white people don’t see and understand these challenges precisely because they are white. (Contrary to common conservative thought, we all can’t get where we want to go through hard work. We are not all born equal.)

We need to get to a point as a nation where difference doesn’t come with judgment. My kids see difference in skin color, but they don’t attach “good” or “bad” labels to that difference.

For example, Dominic noticed that one of his camp counselors, a black woman, was married to a white man. I said that I hoped that didn’t bother him because his daddy and I are an interracial couple too.

Gideon piped up and said, “Oh I know. You are really white and Daddy is brown.”

Dominic replied, “Daddy’s not brown. He’s tan.”

(Note that photo in No. 7 up there and decide for yourself.)

Difference is good.* Judgment is bad.

But I think you know that.

Yours in love of buttery goodness,
Beth

* How boring would it be if we were all the same?

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Dear Procrastinators Anonymous:

My name is Beth and I am a procrastinator. Not all the time, but about certain things. Lately, anyway.

Forgive me, PA, for I have sinned. Repeatedly.

Here’s a rundown of my misdeeds:

1. Dawdled on an article for the local newspaper. I did all the interviews and the research, but couldn’t nail my butt to the chair to write the story.
Outcome: Success. It took 20 minutes. Why did I wait so long?

2. Avoided calling Delta to change flights from summer break to winter because I knew it was going to be a hassle and, possibly, an expensive exchange.
Outcome: Flights changed and I earned a credit because I threatened to cry and/or vomit from the stress and the expense. I was on the phone for more than an hour, though.

3. Dragged my feet on making reservations for a place to stay for the trip above because I’m terrified of getting caught by another rental scam.
Outcome: Made reservations. Still terrified. At least I paid with a credit card this time.

3. Put off reading feedback from certain people in a certain forum because I know one person (or maybe more) hates my guts.
Outcome: Haters gonna hate. Suffice it to say I’ve learned that holding people accountable is not the way to win Miss Congeniality.

4. Dallied in cooking the bacalao Eddie brought home.
Outcome: Have you had bacalao? It’s stinky and time-consuming. You have to soak that stuff before you can cook it. It’s not worth it. I threw it away today. (Don’t tell my mother-in-law. That’d be yet another black mark against me.)

5. Stalled on writing posts for this blog. I’ve had a few ideas, but no strong motivation. And I’m mortified that I’ve slipped to such infrequent updates.
Outcome: Well, you’re reading something, right?

You know what I need? Deadlines. If I don’t have a deadline, it doesn’t get done.

My deadline for this post was yesterday. Oh well.

See you soon,
Beth

Procrastination

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Dear Spammers:

Thank you so much for sending your robots my way. Allow me to respond to a few of your recent (attempted) posts:

 

 

Screen shot Thank you for that interesting bit of trivia featuring an artist I care nothing about. Did you know that she also is the solo artist with the most No. 1 hits? Fascinating. I’m not sure what she has to do with art, except that she is indeed some piece of work. Is this comment an exercise in the improvisation you seem to support? If so, perhaps you could work on that skill. Improvisation requires some cohesion.

 

Screen shot I appreciate you taking an interest in my blog. Allow me to return the favor of assistance: You need to proofread or ask someone to help you. That “O . k” really bothers me. Also, you need to learn the difference between “advise” and “advice.” (Here’s a hint: One is a verb and one is a noun.) And the traditional idiom is “change my mind.”

 

Screen shot I’ve never even seen the first “Tron” (I know, I know) so thanks for the heads-up about the soundtrack. By “board,” do you mean “mixing board”or are you talking about baseboards? If it’s baseboards, you don’t have to tell me: We have quite the issue in our bathroom. The prior owner didn’t know how to use caulk, so that room is a mess.

 

Screen shot Thank you so much for the compliment! I also think my blog should be shared across the Internet. And yes, shame on Google for not doing whatever it is you think it should have done. (Did you perhaps mean “post higher” instead of “publish upper” in that sentence? It’s not clear.) I have other questions, too: What is it that you want to discuss? Are we going to chat about Google rankings? Or something else? I assume you mean you want to speak with me one-on-one. It would be hard for me to talk with your site.

Thanks again, Spammers! There’s some great stuff here.

Beth

* Thank you, Weird Al, for “Spam” based on “Stand.”

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Photo courtesy of Shane Marshall Brown

Photo courtesy of Shane Marshall Brown

Dear Shane and Jason:

Thank you so much for inviting me to your wedding. I haven’t cried at a wedding in years, but I cried at yours. Seeing wuv, true wuv made me emotional! Not that straight people don’t have true love too, but they don’t have problems making it legally binding.

(You obviously know how I feel about same-sex marriage, so I don’t need to go into great detail here.)

I just think if people could see what I saw, then there wouldn’t be any opposition. Love is love. Shane, look at your sweet face in this photo!

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I feel honored that I could be a part of your special day, meet a whole passel of fun, self-proclaimed “theater gays,” and witness something truly wonderful. It even offered a teaching moment for my boys.

Dominic: “Why are you packing?”
Me: “Remember I’m going to my friends’ wedding?”
Dominic: “Oh right. Which friends?”
Me: “Shane and Jason.”
Dominic (looking at me for a beat): “Is Shane the girl?”
Me: “No.”
Dominic: “Jason’s the girl?”
Me: “No.”
Dominic: “They’re both boys?”
Me: “Yes.”
Dominic: “They’re gay?”
Me: “Yes.”
Dominic: “Gay people can get married?”

Yes, Dominic. They can in some places, and they should in more.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? (from “Cinderella,” Rodgers and Hammerstein)

I think you two are beautiful. Thank you for letting me share in your big moment.

Love,
Beth

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Rebecca Martinson

Dear Rebecca Martinson,

I read today that you resigned from Delta Gamma after the email you wrote when you were (ahem) upset went viral.

Your sisters at University of Maryland had this to say in a collective statement on the chapter’s Facebook page:

This is a regrettable action by a college junior, a personal email that is now on view for a global audience.

And as all reasonable people can agree, this is an email that should never have been sent by its author. Period.

Yeah, maybe. But it truly was a work of genius. You said, in a diatribe that involved (by my count) 63 expletives and insults, what you honestly thought about the women in Delta Gamma who were not contributing to the events planned by the sorority.

Yeah, maybe you should have said all these things at a chapter meeting instead of writing them down.

Still, you said what needed to be said. Those of us who are overachievers and commit to something are constantly irritated by the folks who half-ass their way through life. We’ve written that same email in our heads, but perhaps without your elegance (and ability to boot an awesome phrase into the public lexicon).

It’s not really fair to call you “deranged” or “rabid.” You were just pissed, and for what seems like good reason.

Don’t even get me started on people using your letter as an excuse to bash sororities. That’s like scapegoating a faith because of a couple of crazies. Oh wait

(Full disclosure: I was — am — a Chi Omega. I learned time management skills, made lifelong friends, and even got a great job in part because one of the women interviewing me also was a Chi O.)

It’s probably smart that you resigned and are now lying low until some other scandal catches attention. I don’t know what you are majoring in at University of Maryland, but I hope it is something to do with writing. (I’m guessing it’s probably not PR, though). You definitely have talent.

Wishing you the best,
Beth

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Stuck on Sue

Dear Readers:

I realized that I was a little too earnest in yesterday’s post. Ludicrous comments call for ludicrous responses though. Below is what I should have posted.

Enjoy!
Beth

Imaginary letters to Sue Everhart after her comments to the Marietta Daily Journal:

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

* An accident like this one

* Sound familiar?

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A joy named Sue

Sue Everhart

Dear Sue Everhart:

Congratulations for putting the Peach State in the headlines! Of course, it is for all the wrong reasons. Your comments to the Marietta Daily Journal reinforce the all-too-common notion that the South is full of bigoted idiots.

Remember that Mark Twain quote about being stupid? Let me refresh your memory:

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

Let’s recap your concerns about legalizing same-sex marriage:

  1. Straight people will pose as gay to reap benefits.
  2. Gay people don’t have the proper “equipment” to have sex.
  3. Gay parents influence their children’s sexual orientation.

Oh wow. Really, Sue? Really?

For once, I am speechless. I’m so shocked that someone would actually believe these things, let alone say them to a reporter. I don’t even know where to begin.

You start your diatribe by stating, “I’m going to get in trouble over this …”

Yes, Sue, you are. At least, I hope so. I hope there are enough rational people in Georgia and the nation to educate you on the subject of what gay people do and don’t do, can and can’t do, will and won’t do (as if “they” are any different from everyone else). But will you listen?

Georgia Trend named you one of the 100 Most Influential Georgians (2008, 2011, 2012), so you are used to people listening to you. How I hope this trend won’t continue.

At the very least, you may have to check in with your constituents before the next election. The tide is turning against haters like yourself.

Remember what you said after the November 2012 election?

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“By the people, of the people and for the people” includes gay people too, as inconvenient as that is for you.

Or maybe this was just a poor attempt at an April Fools’ Day joke. Right, Sue?

Sue?

Sigh.
Beth

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