Footloss

My right foot hurts, so I went to visit a podiatrist. I made the mistake of wearing a new pair of black cotton socks that day, so when he asked to see my feet, they were covered in black sock fuzz that looked like mildew. Nice.

After i scraped off the black fuzz, he told me that I have what is called a Z -shaped foot, and because of this I have developed arthritis between my metatarsal bones.

The first line of attack is arch support. Way to make me feel decrepit. Now I am wearing the kind of shoes normally reserved for ancient waitresses named Flo who call you 'honey.'

I have small breasts, so they are staying up. I have big feet, so they are sagging. I can't see my butt without making an effort (an effort I have no desire to make) so I can't speak for it, butt I have my suspicions as to which direction it's heading.

By this logic my nose should be safe.


(The above is an example of self-deprecating body humor for which female bloggers are well known. It's not clever, but it is fun.)

family as shield

Last week a woman invited me to have lunch with her.

Sounds good right?

The problem is that i don't really like her. In fact, i find her smug and boring, with heavy emphasis on the boring.

I wasn't quick enough or mean enough to say, "How about never. Is never good for you?" This woman does not have the social skills to pick up on body language or she would know i don't really care for her.

I feel that everything she says is done as a way to impress me. Examples:

-On my geology class field trip the other day...
-I used to manage a lot of people at...
-I was in my studio working on my scuplture...
-My grandson will be graduating from the University of W-- when he's barely 19.
-When my last piece was commisioned...
-I designed the data base for...
-I know alot about the economy because...

She is about 70, and has been divorced for over 10 years, and while i think it's great that she has so many interests, they don't interest me.

At one point i found myself saying something like, "Oh, i just tell my husband when my car needs washing and he does it for me." All that statement needed to make it perfect was a simpering giggle.

And while i might wish it were, it isn't even true! I have to wash my own damned car. I had to laugh at myself when i realized on the way home that what i had done is play the 'stupid female card' in hopes that she would find me impossibly dull and never invite me anywhere again.

I also blamed having my daughter home this weekend as an excuse for not going to the movies with her.

trip report

For those of you following along at home, i am back home after my big adventure in Ohio and Tennessee.

Em and i went to see Coraline (good) and He's Just Not That Into You (I'm sick of movies that portray all women as desperate to get married without regard to the suitability of the man. Gag!) and then she made me watch High School Musical 3 in the hotel room.

Dreadful movie. I read a book while she watched.

We ate good food, drank some champagne and had a good time.

I only got to meet one of her friends, so i didn't get the chance to use my advanced interrogation skills on the future ex-boyfriend. Damn! In fact, the future ex might already be the never ex. You gotta move fast on these things or you'll miss your chance to intimidate.

Monday i flew off to to meet with Ms. Chica. The weather was cold and beautiful. We spent most of the day on Tuesday hiking along the Cumberland Trail. The scenery is so different from here that i was fascinated. Deciduous forests, delicate streams, elaborate rock formations, good company, icicles, turkey sandwiches that i didn't have to make, moss theft. It was all good.



Here i am preparing to ride my broomstick across this bridge.

Intelligent discourse

This is more in the nature of a diary entry than a thoughtful blog post. Fair warning.

I'm all excited as i leave at o'fuck thirty tomorrow morning to wing my way to Ohio to visit my offspring.

"Oh," she says, "Come visit me. I miss you. I want you to meet my friends"

Translation: Come spoil me rotten for a weekend mommy.

Okay, i can't resist THAT! Tell me you could.

There's also a person she likes. Maybe even likes likes. I have prepared a list of questions for this person. I hope s/he doesn't mind.

-so, what does your mother do?
-so, how do you feel about pre-marital sex?
-so, what are your political views?
-so, do you understand that i will kill you if you hurt my daughter?
-so, do you know how to don a condom?
-so, how did you vote in the last election.

(just kidding baby.... mostly.)

And then, and THEN (!) i'm going off for a few days to visit one of my blomies. (Say it out loud, it's obscene.) We hope to go hiking together.

I'll be in touch as i have my precious with me. (laptop)

In which i swear freely

We have just put our house up for sale. Don't we have AWESOME timing?

I fucking hate living in a for sale house. We have to keep it neat, which is totally hard for us because The Mister is a a slob, and i'm lazy. At least my hideously messy daughter is away at college, although she has a roomful of crap that will need to be dealt with.

Some cranky letters to make me feel better:

************
Dear Makers of Aveeno Oatmeal Lotion,

I love your lotion, but i hate that the suction pump straw thing is an inch and a half above the bottom of the container. I feel like it's a plot to get me to buy more of your lotion.

Not going to work as i am stubborn AND cheap, plus i recycle the bottle, after i eke every last bit of lotion out of it.

So there,

-a not to be manipulated consumer

************
Dear Mom who brought her baby to the National Geographic Lecture last week,

Judging from the auditory evidence, your baby didn't appreciate the lecture. And thanks to your inconsiderateness in bringing a baby to such an event, neither did the other 200 people who could hear him crying.

But hey, as long as YOU got to attend, fuck the rest of us.

Just so you know, i don't blame the baby. I blame you.

-One of 20 or so people who gave you the stink eye.

************

Dear Ace Hardware,

I bought a wedge style doorstop from you today. On the back of the package was this;

INSTALLATION INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Insert by wedging under bottom of door.

Thanks for that, i had no idea.

-Low IQ Consumer

For the love of yeast byproduct

This is a post that one of you sent me and asked me to post anonymously. I didn't publish it right away because i can't decide quite how i feel about it. It makes me sad, and it also pisses me off and makes me want to tell the writer, "For god's sake, grow a pair!" I hope seeing in in print will help, but i'm doubtful. Courage.


Things given up for alcohol:

Sex. Too drunk. We have chosen alcohol over each other.

Reading. I can't focus on the words, they swim before my eyes. I used to love to read.

Sleep. I fall asleep hard, and then wake up after a few hours wanting water and aspirin. Am awake for hours until I fall into an uneasy sleep just before it is time to get up and make breakfast.

Time with my children. I view them as a hinderance to what I really want to be doing.

Patience. I am crabby and annoyed by everything. I'm a mean drunk.

My word. Every morning I promise that last night was it, I am quitting. That night I buy more wine.

A neat scotch story

Two of my favorite people in the world are married to each other. (It's nice when that happens, because it's not always the case.)

I'll call them Mike and Susan. We've known Mike for 27 years, and he had the good sense to meet and fall in love with Susan about 5 years after we met Mike.

They each told me this story separately, which i found charming. It meant they were both pleased with the outcome.

Mike likes scotch, neat, preferably single malt. He has settled on a favorite one over the years, i forget the name of it. We'll say it's Bowmore.

Susan, in conversation with him about his favorite scotch, asked him why he had settled on just one, when there are so many different kinds of scotch in the world for him to try. Didn't he want to try some new ones?

He replied that there are many women in the world too, and he had settled on just one without trying them all.

That night, when Mike came home from work, there was a brand new bottle of Bowmore waiting for him.

Do cats mourn?

Is it better to live a free, but dangerous life? Or to be unhappy, yet safe?

Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

The Mister found part of Grey Cat in our yard this morning. Coyotes i suppose, although i have only seen one here in 10 years.

We got Grey Cat and Brown Cat (they are brothers) from a cat rescue place. They were almost two years old, and had been indoor/outdoor cats with their previous owners.

So i let them continue to be indoor/outdoor cats, believing that they would be miserable if confined. The few times i have had to keep one or the other inside, they have been vocal about their displeasure and then become destructive.

I try to keep them in at night, but being cats, sometimes they are not to be found.

Brown Cat woke me up this morning at 4 am. He hasn't done that in a long time. He must have heard something. He has been uneasy and skitterish all day, asking to go out, asking to come in, asking to visit the basement, wanting out on the balcony to peer over the yard. He never asked to be fed tonight either, when usually he comes and sits his whole 15 pound self on my chest at 4:30, trying to look skinny.

So i am sad. I just don't know what i would have done differently.

Feel free to comfort or chastise me. Both are appropriate.

At face value

Here' s one place where we trip each other up. We read more into what is said than is there. Or actually, we try to guess what each other really meant, beyond the spoken words, and in that, lies madness.

A trivial example:

"Did the cats get fed?" does not mean, "I want you to feed the cats." If i wanted you to feed the cats, i would say, "Will you please feed the cats?"

I have watched my parents perform this dance for years. Because when my mother says, "Did the cats get fed?" what she means is, "Why haven't you fed the cats?!?!"

(Or my all time personal favorite, "You're not wearing those socks are you?" Translation; "Go change out of those hideous socks you hapless boob, they make me look bad because i am with someone who would wear those socks. Do i have to do everything for you? God! Where would you be without me to run your life?")

It's a delicate art, this translation we do inside our heads. The excuse for it is that we are trying to be helpful by anticipating the needs of others. The result of it is that signals get crossed and the cats may get fed twice. Which suits them just fine, but leads to fat cats and running out of cat food.

Of course more serious problems than obese cats can happen because of this inner 'what is he/she really saying' translation gene.

The point is, to retrain myself to answer the question. For example, "I do not know if the cats have been fed," rather than, "Would you like me to feed them?" or, "I'll do it in a minute, Geez!"

Less confusion all around.

Sucker

A Seattle joke:

Q: What do you call the first sunny day in Seattle following two days of rain?

A: Monday.

Heh. So today, for the first time in a while, is sunny. Happy Monday.


What does this day find me doing?

I am carrying around a small black mouse in a hand towel. (The towel is because the bathroom habits of mice are abominable.)

Why am i carrying around a stinky mouse that i don't want and that i inherited when Em went off to college?

Because i caused her little mousy friend to be killed, and i refuse to buy her another mousy friend.

So i'm worried she might be lonely.

GAH!

Landfill

Something pretty to look at, because the subject is ugly.

The Mister and i braved the wilds of our basement this past weekend and threw away a ton of stuff.

No, I mean we literally threw away a TON of stuff. Okay, i exaggerate a tiny bit, we threw away 1,890 lbs of stuff. Plus 8 boxes of books were sold (we made almost $60!) a huge pile of mixed paper was recycled, the Goodwill received 12 boxes of yet more stuff, and even the three dead rats we found were put into the yard waste.

We received some upsetting news on Friday night and by Saturday night we were feeling rather pleased with ourselves and better able to deal with the news. Such, at least for me, is the power of organizing.

At the same time, i feel ashamed for all that junk that now resides in a landfill.

Before i buy anything ever again, i vow to ask myself, "Do i really want/need this. Remember that almost everything i buy i will end up throwing away, someday."

When i walk into a Walmart (which admittedly is not often) or a similar 'big box retailer,' my first thought is "landfill."

Although after our performance this weekend, i have no right to point fingers.

A Cheap Shot

Okay, no one else has gone there, that i've read, and it's such low hanging fruit for making fun of that i can no longer resist.

Did you all hear about PETA's (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) campaign to get fish re-positioned as "Sea Kittens" to get us all to stop eating them?

I am not making this up.

Who knew that fish were just cuddly little love pets with bad PR?

Okay, seriously, i respect vegetarians, and i understand why they don't eat meat. And that's cool. But this is just a really stupid idea. Can you imagine the meeting where they thought this up?

Gloomy Earnest Person in Charge: "We need a do-over on the anti-fin food lobby."

Earnest Person #1: "Oh, hey, let's try calling fish 'Ocean babies,' no one wants to eat babies!!"

Earnest Person #2: "Yeah, that's a great idea!"

Earnest Person #3: "I know i know! let's call them 'Ocean dogs.' That'll work!

Earnest Person #1: " How about 'Scaly Puppies.'"

Earnest Person #2: "That's good, really good"

Earnest Person #4: "Fluffy Sea Bunnies!"

Earnest Person #2: "No, no, "Sea Fairies."

Earnest Person #5: "Ocean Pandas!"

Earnest Person #3: "Sea Kittens!"

...stunned silence....

Gloomy Earnest Person in charge: "That's brilliant Earnest Person #4! Just fuckin' brilliant! Sea Kittens. It's so simple, so elegant. I'm convinced. Let the campaign begin."

Tonight The Mister and i are going out for raw Sea Kitten on rice with just a hint of wasabi.

Assvice

What is it about me people that makes me them so love to give advice but so stubborn about taking it?

Although, having thought about it a bit further, i only hate taking advice from some people, who just happen to be the people who love to give advice.

I found myself in a situation where i was rejecting, without thinking first, everything she was telling me.

Why?

That's a complicated question.

Because i'm stubborn and i want to be the one with the answers? A little bit.
Because she always gives advice, even when i'm not asking for it and i resent that, i have managed to take care of myself for several decades thank-you-very-much? Yes, that's part of it too.
Because she sounds pompous and bossy and reminds me of my not-best-me? Ouch! Yes.
Am i prepared for the smugness that will ensue if i do take her advice? Or should i continue to reject everything without consideration? Maybe. And no.

So what did i do?

I sat back and decided that she might actually have something to say that i could use. So i asked for it. Advice.

And then i listened.

I might even follow it too.

And i might not.

Letters

Dear United Airlines,

You are zero for two on transporting Em's bags for Christmas trip. You must be so proud.

She liked the toothbrush though,

-Em's Mom

********************

Dear Rain,

You can stop now. The dock is under a foot of water and i've got moss growing between my.....oh never mind.

kthxbai,

-meno moss

********************

Dear husband,

Do you really need to keep your textbooks from 30 years ago? I think they might be obsolete, plus you haven't unpacked them in 15 years.

I'm renting a truck to go to the dump this weekend. Be there.

-Your lively and attractive wife

********************

Dear cats,

For fuck's sake! How many times do i have to kick you off the bed each night before you understand you are not wanted??

You act like you have a brain the size of a walnut. Sheesh!

-She who wields the can opener

******************

Dear Offspring,

Ummm, you left all the wrapping for your new toys at the bottom of the stairs. When i saw it, i thought and thought about you.

I guess this helps me miss you a little less, so thanks.

Be good, and really, don't worry about your mouse, i've asked Grey Cat to take care of her in your absence.

-mommy

Social Conditioning

I've struggled for years with how to reply when Em says "I'm sorry" when she is neither responsible nor sorry.

It's a sort of cringing behavior that infuriates me. What is it about someone cringing that makes me want to hit them?

These are the responses i have tried;
- I'm sorry too.
-You should be.
-stop apologizing, it's not your fault.
-thank you for your concern.
-etc....

The trouble with these is that they all came out sounding either sarcastic, annoyed, or both. (Probably because i was annoyed.)

It is Em herself who gave me the answer.

She told us about a study she learned about that says women apologize far more often than men. Apparently it's some cultural conditioning thing. Nothing gets to Em more than having to consider herself a result of cultural conditioning.

So my new response to an inappropriate "I'm sorry," is "Don't be such a female!"

We'll see if it works.

This post was inspired by a discussion between Maggie and Egan.

A rude shock

As mentioned previously on The Fascinating Life of Meno, friend Kim, The Mister and i went to see a live taping of Says You on New Year's Eve.

The pertinent facts for those of you who have lives, is that this is a public radio quiz type show involving word play.

It was great, lots of silliness and fun with vocabulary. I enjoyed it a lot, as i did the dinner immediately preceding the show. (There was champagne, so yeah, good stuff.)

But the audience was a bunch of pudgy middle-aged white people with stringy grey hair, wearing micro fleece, gortex, natural fibers and Birkenstocks, and sporting unfortunate jewelery choices. In other words, the quintessential public radio audience.

Yes, he has another one just like it, on the other side. We checked.

The worst part? WE FIT RIGHT IN.

I hadn't seen a whole herd of us together like that before. It's a sad sight. I kept thinking, "For god's sake at least get a decent haircut!"

I came home and made an appointment to have my hair highlighted. I look fabulous by the way.

I've known you a long time

The trouble with family is memory.

This is the brother who belittled me, 40 years ago.
This is the brother who bullied me, 30 years ago.
This is the sister-in-law who accused me, 25 years ago.
This is the me, who made a snide remark and hurt someone, 15 years ago.
This is the sister who made a threat, 10 years ago.
This is the niece who went through a morose period, 5 years ago.
This is the nephew, who harassed my child, 3 years ago.

It's easier to note changes in the kids, their bodies remind me that they are growing and changing. But my brothers and sisters are changing too. I know this, because i am too. More slowly than the kids, but changing nonetheless.

We remain wary, our long memories of past transgressions, large and small, fogging the lens through which we experience one another, in a way that never happens on the blanker slate that is a newer acquaintance. Just the echo of that past can send me back to that time, looking at the bully or the belittler, even though they no longer exist. Just a whisper of that cutting tongue can have them seeing that hurtful bitch who is no longer really me.

So carefully we must act, in order to avoid these echoes and whispers.

There needs to be an expiration date on certain memories, a way to delete them permanently.

The trouble with family is memory.

Marginally Amusing Poop

It's funny how when i am away from you, my friends, i spend time trying to remember things i MUST tell you.

So i must wander in the weeds a bit, in the telling.

Christmas Day made me hopeful that my extended family (brothers, sisters-in-law and their offspring) can actually have fun together. Because we did have fun. The nieces and nephews had a great time locating their Christmas money inside Kleenex boxes. (I think next year i will steal the idea of gluing the money inside walnut shells.) Then we all went off to see the movie BOLT, which was the perfect Christmas movie for us.

The snow finally ended, and there is very little of it still around. But there are Bott's Dots everywhere. I have harvested a few.

My parents were the first people (my mother kept repeating this fact to anyone who would listen) to move into their new retirement home, right before all the snow hit. This is a huge relief for all of us. We went there on Christmas Eve for dinner and inspection. The place is gorgeous. Their apartment is spacious and on the 9th floor and has a great view out over the city. Plus, did i remember to tell you that they were the first people to move in?

Our New Year's Eve will be spent in a manner befitting geeks. We are going to see a taping of the radio show Says You, and should be home tucked in our beds by 10:30, at the latest.

Em got a stuffed elephant which she has named Rudyard.

I'm thinking of moving. The fact that my daughter reads this makes me feel stifled. So far, it's just a thought. But it's hard to be as dismal as i sometimes want to be, and i never wanted a cute little blog where i always post marginally amusing poop.

Cocoon

I know you in the actual Midwest and Northeast and Canada and etc. will laugh at us here in Seattle, but we are not used to this.

SNOW! It's so beautiful here. I just can't believe it.

Em made it home from Ohio on Saturday, between storms and only about 40 minutes later than scheduled. I was anxious that she might get stuck somewhere as she flew through Chicago's O'hare airport, but all went smoothly.

Well, except that her luggage didn't show up until 11:30 last night, but on the plus side, she looks cute in The Mister's jeans.

The Mister's fancy-ass SUV FAILED to make it up the driveway on Thursday morning. (Not gloating, not!) This thing is so fancy it has many special settings for driving in different conditions:

1) Loose gravel less than 20mm

2) Loose gravel greater than 20mm

3) Gravel that stays home at night

4) Plague of locusts (crunch, crunch)

5) Snowing lightly

6) Snowing heavily

7) Snowing somewhere else

What it does lack is a setting for getting it up the driveway.

So we spent 2 hours clearing the driveway (we have a long driveway) and got his car up and it has been parked on the street ever since.

It's been kind of fun. We venture out once a day to hunt and gather (at Top Foods) and then head back home to watch trashy movies and eat popcorn.

Today i went to the hardware store, hoping to maybe buy a snow shovel. Of course i am the 5,436th person with that idea, but they did tell me that they were expecting a small shipment in about an hour.

After lunch i called the store back to see if they were in yet and was told to hurry back as they were in and going fast. I had to shove a few old men and a woman with a baby out of the way, but i am now the proud owner of a $15 red plastic snow shovel. Wheeeeee!!

More snow expected tomorrow. Thank god i have my shovel.

A Christmas Tradition Continues

A few years ago, i started playing a little game with my nieces and nephews at Christmas. They are all old enough so that everything they want costs lots of money, so i just give them money, and they can do with it what they will.

The first year, i bought them all white underwear and hid the money inside the undies. They were pretty disgusted with me, until they figured it out. We all had a good laugh.

Last year, i hid the money inside white socks. But they were on to me and found the money right away.

This year i thought i'd just hand them money, because i was too lazy to come up with another idea. But then i thought - Kleenex! I slit open the side of a practice box, and the game was on! This morning i bought 5 boxes of different sized kleenex, slit open the sides, inserted money and some Christmas bells in each box, and glued them shut again.

Bwah hah aha hahha hah!

Evil aunt meno is evil! I can't wait.

Extra photos of random stuff:

Back lit Pampas Grass:

The high temperature here today was below 0 C (32 F) so everything is covered with a layer of frost that sparkles like diamonds in the sun:
Yesterday at the grocery store i saw this display at an idle check stand. I am assuming that it was for training new cashiers, but it amused me. The manager came over to ask me why i was taking a picture of it. I told him "Because it amuses me." He left, but watched me warily after that:

Brown cat helping with my crocheting: