Slipping through the cracks

July 30, 2009

Tom Petty sings that even the losers get lucky sometimes. I figure if something someone some anything is going to slip through the cracks, why not roll the dice and see if it is you? Of course, you have to weigh the consequences if what you are do not slip through but in fact are obvious.

I don’t advocate stealing because the pay off is not worth the risk. However, let’s say asking for a discount or trying to get some paper approved, well there is no harm in asking. I don’t play the lottery – a tax for people who are bad at math – but people do win. That one in a million does exist.

My sister once hypothesized that a person was better off saving his or her lottery allowance for one week and buy 54 tickets at once. But I suppose people like to have a little bit excitement each week and roll the dice to see.

Just some random thoughts. My toe is throbbing because I stubbed it.


Caught in the Act

July 30, 2009

Have you caught your daughter masturbating?
Have you been caught with your hand in your pants?
It happens.
Mom, it’s not a big deal. It’s actually quite healthy.

As much as I have issues with my stepmother, I am eternally grateful to her for bringing me to Caldor, am I dating myself?, and buying me a Conair handheld “facial massager.” Not sure if my dad knows about this because he has not made any reference during his embarrassing and inappropriate verbal diarrhea. My boobs and menstruation cycle have not been off-limits.

Since I did not play with my hands, the idea of using a highly efficient and targeted machine was not in my paradigm. I had told my mom that New Wifey thought I needed one and my mom was appalled, as I was initially. We didn’t discuss self satisfaction, and the idea of needing a machine to replace a man seemed, well…it entailed a certain amount of resignation.

Of course my opinion has changed in the thirteen years since that fateful Caldor trip. Why would you need a man if you can have a machine zero in? No small talk, no waiting for the phone to ring, no awkwardness, no drama.

My college housemate a BDOC- Big Lesbian on Campus told me that I was lucky I was not gay because I would be desensitized to the human touch and only want to use machines. I like it both ways, but there are times I like the direct aim of my vibrator friend.

So mom, do not worry. It’s healthy. Ask your daughter if she wants to talk about it.
And if you were caught, you can always remind the witness that what you are doing is perfectly healthy and smart, and you can always say I don’t want to talk about it.


Does she care?

July 13, 2009

Whenever my sister and I suggested something to my mother that did not benefit my mom such as getting a bigger mattress in our room, she would say, when I die, you can change it. Given the longtime resident in her body Cancer, we would joke about her death with more ease than most.

My mom would say how much fun she thought my siblings and I would have going through her jewelry when she passed. “I want you each to go around and take turns choosing one piece at a time.” I asked my sister which art pieces she wanted and told her which ones I wanted. Then we envisioned my brother claiming the Lichtenstein, unaware that it is a knock-off. My sister and I almost put pieces of masking tape with our respective names on the back of some of the pictures so there would be no confusion down the road and let my brother think that he was part of the discussion.

Now that my mom has passed and we are in no rush to dismantle the house, I wonder if my mom cringes when I walk inside with wet feet from the pool. Does she care that my husband puts the knives and the wine glasses in the dishwasher?

As I take care of her investments, I have to remind myself that I am not doing any of it for mom, but rather for me and my kids.


Facebook Popularity

July 9, 2009

I’ve gotten all sorts of requests for friends on Facebook that would flatter the insecure teenager I once was. Now, I wonder why people who have never spoken to me in 3-D suddenly want to befriend me in 2-D.

I’m sure some people want to befriend me because they are accumulating friends. Somehow having 100 Facebook friends is empowering for some, which may explain why I have received requests from people who I don’t know or from say my former neighbor who once complained about my barking dog. I would not know him if I passed him on the street yet he wants to know of my latest happenings. There were a few friends from high school I was touched sought me out on Facebook, or perhaps the side bar just suggested me as a friend, but nonetheless they chose to add me as a friend. Excited to hear from a blast from the past I sent a note to my newly accepted friends only to have it ignored which makes me wonder why did you add me in the first place? I wanted to de-friend her but since we had several mutual friends I didn’t.

Then there are my friends I was genuinely excited to reconnect with such as someone I had known my first year of boarding school and held a special place in my heart. She waited over a week before accepting my invitation even though I later learned she had logged on during that time and she never responded to my heartfelt letters and notes on her wall. Perhaps she was not that interested in being friends but did not oppose having another friend in her list.

My sister and I go back and forth about whether to accept certain people from our past, a friend’s mother, certain cousins, husband’s business associates, her moyel, my tenants, and so on. I guess it depends on how one wants to use the site to determine if we want to be friends. Just because one person is trying to accumulate names doesn’t mean I have to partake.


Post Baby Body

July 1, 2009

My sister uses a girdle to shrink her uterus after delivering, per her ob’s advice. Within a week her stomach flattened to look a mere three three to four months pregnant. She doles this information out sparingly so that acquaintances think she is super mom with the super body. We went shopping a week after her son was born and the oohs and ahhs she received from the sales clerk about her body led me to chime in that I have a five month old, and my body is lean.

I was looking for some sort of validation. Staying at my sister’s house for two weeks with my two kids and her three children including the newborn was a lot, even though we are best friends and her house is significantly larger than any New York City apartment I’ve visited. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt of her post partum mood swings, but she made comments about my kids. Comments that one such as myself might take offense to. Comments about my daughter and how she adjusted to being in a foreign place with constant stimulation. Every time she picked up a toy, one of the other kids would snatch it out of her hand and say Mine. She was not on her turf or even in her own country. My sister discounted this when she complained that my daughter whined too much.

I kept my mouth shut about her children and their misbehavior because I did not want to get into a tit for tat situation. There was nothing to gain. Kids are kids. They have good moments and bad ones.

She did share some helpful advice that perhaps I would have come to on my own. Given her kids are older she was more familiar with how best to handle a toddler. I do remember taking a trip when her eldest was a little over two years and my mom and I advised her how to discipline her toddler. I shared my thoughts in a constructive and sensitive way as opposed to attacking and criticizing.

I took full advantage of my sister’s help and changed an average of one diaper a day which was awesome. My sister felt the need to comment on that as well. She must forget that when I am in New York I can change multiple diapers in an hour and I have to run around looking for the proper size for each kid. That was my vacation, some R & R that I desperately needed and earned. She must have forgotten or never realized how hard I have been working and the amount of stress I am under.

So don’t judge me! Don’t judge my parenting! Since she is my sister and best friend and had just delivered a baby…I won’t digress and mention how she treated me in the delivery room, I’ll give her a grace period.