To begin, if you see utensils on the table, best guess is you are expected to use them. Work from the outside in and save the one(s) across the top for dessert. If you're at a super fancy event with crowded tables, be sure to learn the bread and drink rule. What's that? Hold both fists in front of you, as if you're holding candlesticks, and stick out your pointer fingers. You'll (hopefully) notice the left side makes a lower case "b" and the right side makes a "d." Those stand for BREAD and DRINK and designate which side is yours. Do that under the table real quick and you'll never have to drink someone else's backwash again. Of course these tips most likely do not apply at meals where all parties are snatching their chicken from a paper bucket. In these cases, tuck that napkin in your collar, roll up those sleeves and GIT TO GITTIN! That wing ain't gonna bring itself to you.
Thanksgiving is upon us. What a wonderful time of year. People get together...blood families as well as chosen families...and spend time together doing a lot of, well, nothing really. For some it may be eating, talking and sleeping. For others, eating, talking, watching football and sleeping. Still others may choose to eat, chill for a bit, talk, sleep, watch football. The options are limitless. But the main ribbon connecting everyone is just being connected. Visiting with people we may not have seen in a while, and may not care to see for another several months. Or spending the whole day with that one person you've missed terribly since last time this year. Its all about being together and being thankful for it. Being thankful for all that life has dished out this past year. Be it good experiences or learning experiences, life is surely something to be thankful for. Perhaps you are spending Thanksgiving in the company of new people this year. People who may not be accustomed to you stretching way back, slapping your full gut and popping that top button on your pants. Right there at the table. Methinks they might take it wrong when you rip a huge belch and yell "YOWZA! That stuffing was just as good on the flip side!" Something tells me they will NOT see that as a compliment to the cook no matter how you explain it. How 'bout we go over some table etiquette so you won't end up in that group of folks they may not care to see again soon...or ever? To begin, if you see utensils on the table, best guess is you are expected to use them. Work from the outside in and save the one(s) across the top for dessert. If you're at a super fancy event with crowded tables, be sure to learn the bread and drink rule. What's that? Hold both fists in front of you, as if you're holding candlesticks, and stick out your pointer fingers. You'll (hopefully) notice the left side makes a lower case "b" and the right side makes a "d." Those stand for BREAD and DRINK and designate which side is yours. Do that under the table real quick and you'll never have to drink someone else's backwash again. Of course these tips most likely do not apply at meals where all parties are snatching their chicken from a paper bucket. In these cases, tuck that napkin in your collar, roll up those sleeves and GIT TO GITTIN! That wing ain't gonna bring itself to you. Say you're not quite the button-popping, gut busting overachiever when it comes to meals. You're more of a tortoise to the hare. Nice and easy grazer with lots of breaks. Eat a little, gab a little, eat a little, snooze a little, eat a little, space out a little. I hear ya. There are ways to indicate you're not quite finished with your meal. Again, these typically apply mainly to fancy shmancy dinners, but when demonstrated properly may also win some brownie points with the lovey-love's family. According to etiquette expert Mindy Lockard, when taking a small break during mealtime, the best way to signal this is to place fork and knife separate but parallel on the plate. The knife should be on the right side of the fork, and the tines of said for should be facing up. As if to say, "be right back and ready for round two." Another acceptable signal would be to cross the utensils in the center of the plate in an "X." However, if you've had all you can take, have unsnapped as well as unzipped, and have uttered the final belch, go ahead a lay both utensils side by side on your plate, but turn them towards the 11:00 position. Fork tines should be facing up. If you're overseas, your fork tines can face down. Means the same thing. No matter who you spend it with, or if you use a sterling silver spoon or a plastic spork, please remember to chew with your mouth closed and say a sincere prayer of thanks. Life is quite a blessing. HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO YOU ALL!
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How do you deal with someone who is just way too happy? Too peppy? So ridiculously head-banging happy that it makes you want to punch them square in the throat? Multiple times. I don't know. Just don't know. I wish I did, but I don't. And I need to know. Like fast. Like NOW. Got a new part-timer at my work place. Seems nice enough. Older lady, handful of kids, works to get out of the house. That's all fine and dandy. But she's happy. Like excitable happy. Like little dog who dances around and pees on the floor when you look at her kind of happy. And its starting to drive me insane. Can't just say "Hey" when she comes in to work. Nooooo....she has to bounce (yes, physically bounce) into each room, with arms waving and big eyes and calling out "HELLO! GOOD MORNING! WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A GREAT DAY TODAY!" What th?! I tried to hide under the desk once (cowardly, I know) thinking she would walk on by. Nope. It flipped her out and she basically put out an inter-office APB on me. Thought some horrendous tragedy had befallen me on the walk from my car to my desk. She looked everywhere...other people's offices, the bathroom, the kitchen, the businesses next door...everywhere. I had to straight up lie when I finally crawled out. Told her I lost something under the desk and was looking for it. "OH DEAR! OH NO! Here! Lets look TOGETHER!" Oh hell no. Back it on up sister! Don't you be going under there - I LIED, girl! LIED! Don't get me wrong. I'm all about positivity and good attitudes. Sometimes attitude is all a person has. I get that and I appreciate that. I just don't want to be slapped with it so early in the morning. Repeatedly. I do not want Positive Puppy licking my face before 10 am. I do not want to hear sing-song sweetness and happy-happy word barf before I've had a gallon of coffee. infused into my blood stream I do not want to be told what kind of day I'm going to have, Sugarpants Suzie! You don't even KNOW what kind of day I may have already STARTED having anyway! While you're splitting your face open smiling why don't you yank that ray of sunshine right outcha arse before I break it off! Don't you DARE come in here like Tigger on a tweak telling me to be freakin HAPPY!! She is nice, though. Have I said that? And she's helpful. Overly helpful, at times. Happy-Helpy-Helper helpful. So helpful that she can't seem to get anything done. Her friends all seem to have strange children, too. (Like need-medication strange not normal-kid strange.) So she is always involved in whatever Mama-Drama they have going on. Its one phone call after the other every day. Then her Man, her Mom, her Dad, her kids, her sister, her Great Aunt Sally, the neighbors Grandmama, the lawn guy, the pool guy, the Direct TV guy - they ALL CALL all day long. How someone can have THAT much to say is beyond me. TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK all day long. I can go through my whole day in a short series of grunts, growls, a few eye/ eyebrow movements and some facial expressions. If there was a way to have a phone surgically attached to someone's head I'm certain she would have it done. And then she'd give you a 47 minute dissertation on the procedure, too. Sigh. Maybe Its just me. Maybe I'm the weird one. But it sure would be nice if there was a tighter fitting lid on the weird bucket. I could go for that. This is a GingerSnap moment. WEIRD BUCKETS WITH LIDS: Bucket- o -weird $10.00 each. Buy a lot - you will need them eventually! Poor Big Red. My poor, sweet Big Red. He didn't make the team. What team? Doesn't matter. He wanted so badly to try out and make the team, but he was cut in the last leg of tryouts. He sent me a text. Short and to the point. "I got cut" Reading that hurt so much more than I imagined.
"I'm nervous," he said last night. "You should be, Babe. Everyone should be a little nervous before a competition. If you just expect to rock everything you shoot for you won't learn how it feels to work super hard for something." He cut his hazel eyes down at me and nodded. "Yeah, I get that. But I'm scared." Hold up. "Now scared is something entirely different., my boy You have absolutely no reason to be scared at all. You're more than talented enough to go in and play it up. You've got hustle, you've got drive, you've got skills. Sure there will be boys there who have more talent and may have stronger skills, but you'll turn your fair share of heads. Don't doubt that for one minute. You just have to remember there are 70 boys vying for 30 jerseys. Those are some hard odds. Please remember though, Babe, its a game. Its just a game. Have fun with it and it will all work out the right way." So much easier said than done when he doesn't make the cut. Big Red is a strong boy. Built for athletics and pretty good in almost every sport he attempts. But we haven't done the Select Team thing with him. With either of the boys, actually. Its just not my thing, and doesn't seem to be theirs either. They're both interested in so many different things (sports, music, art, etc.) that its just not feasible to tie them down to one sport every waking moment. They're still kids. So yes, that may have played a part in him not making the team. I'll admit that. Big Red is a sweet boy. He's thoughtful and caring and has a huge, soft heart. He can, and does, talk some loud smack at times. But feels horrible when he thinks he MAY have inadvertently hurt someone's feelings. He's not aggressive in the least. He's an outstanding defender, but not strong on the offense. So, that may have played a part in him not making the team as well. I'll admit that, too. But I know for a fact that when he does make the team, whatever team that may be, it will not be because of whatever talent or skills he may have, but will primarily be because of his determination and hard work. And I'll take that any day. If I can just remember this when I pick him up from school today, maybe, JUST MAYBE I won't melt into a blubbering mess. Poor Big Red. Love him. Today is Veteran's Day. One definition reads "a public holiday held on the anniversary of the end of World War I (November 11) to honor US veterans and victims of all wars. It replaced Armistice Day in 1954." My heart seems to hurt more and more each Veteran's Day. I think its because each year our Veterans become younger and younger. Our children, our young men and women, are willingly making the choice to serve and protect our country at a time when they still look like little kids and sometimes still act like little kids. Our precious little boys who wore footie pajamas and raced Hot Wheels cars around the house saying vroom vroom vrooom. Our sweet little girls who played in Mom's makeup and wore clip-cloppy princess shoes and crowns. I guess its hard for my mind and heart to comprehend that our babies are truly growing up right in front of our eyes. Growing into young adults. That they're consciously making the decision to leave the relative safety of their home, and their mamas, and serve their country. My nephew answered this call not too long ago, and I know BUTT and JAB (My sister and bro-in-law) struggled with it. I remember how proud they were, and still are, that he was willing to make that sacrifice. But on the flip side, I know they were/are scared s*&Tless of just how far that sacrifice may take him. I'm incredibly proud of him, too, but can't seem to find a voice without tears to tell him.
I wonder what leads a person to make this decision? I have many friends from my school days who have served. Family members, too. I've never asked why, but I am curious. Did they always have this innate draw to be a part of something more - something as huge as serving in the military? Or did they make the decision on a whim? To perhaps try something different. Did they follow family members. A legacy of sorts. Did they do it in order to get specific training or to be able to get a college degree? Or did something profound happen to them specifically to lead them into service? I know so many people were touched during the 9/11 tragedy. And rightly so. My Grandparents served as well. Both of them. They were from a different time, though. A time when I think it was more of a call to arms for our country as a whole. As an aside, I sadly think our country will soon be heading down that same road. Regardless of the reasons, I'm thankful for these people. All these people who, for whatever leads them, choose to put their country and those who call her home above their own personal comfort, well-being and safety. I know myself fairly well, and while I'd like to say I would serve in a heartbeat, I don't think I have that gumption. Thank you to all our Servicemen and women. Thank you. May the Lord bless and keep you. Some days are just too great to believe they're real. Seriously.
Yesterday began as just another work day. I typically hate mornings and am SuperGrump until about 10am. I often say I wake up from the outside in. But on the way into the office today, I stopped by a friend's house to deliver her birthday gift. Our friendship is very genuine. We can talk every day, or once a quarter, and we're still right there with each other each time we get back together. Like no time has passed. So as I rang her door bell, and she offered me in for coffee, I knew the day had taken a good turn. 2 hours later, my boss and co-workers have sent messages asking "R U ok?" I work in a very small office, so when one of us is MIA, the rest tend to get a little worried. I texted back that I was just having a slow start and will be in shortly. To my wonderment, I'm told to take my time - that I'm not missing anything important. Being borderline insane, I sometimes need a day or two just to regroup and stop threatening to carve out people's intestines with butter knives. I guess my boss realized I hadn't had a mental health day in quite some time and decided to try to avoid that type of chaos. I did NOT need to be told twice. My friend and I drank our coffee, went to lunch, talked about everything and nothing, laughed and cried (almost) and basically solved ALL the world's problems at least twice throughout the rest of the day. It was incredible. No one needed anything, no one called, no one bugged the crap out of us asking stupid questions. We just got to BE. Its not often you get a gift like that. uninterrupted time with someone you don't have to pretend with. Happy happy birthday, M'Kay. Hope it was as good for you as it was for me. So I'm still not quite over the camping quandary. But, instead of continuing to beat it down, I've moved on to what I would do differently if given the opportunity. I would so go with an RV! Oh yes, I would! One of those super cute retro Airstream ones that looks like a little silver bullet. Or even one of those teeny-tiny ones that look like little tear drops on wheels and only sleeps 2 people. I could get with that. Mm-hm. Sure could. Just look at how stinkin' cute that is!
Camping. Camping confuses me. Lots of people go camping. A lot. "Oh! We're camping this weekend, can't wait!", "We got a new tent to try out. It sleeps 12", "We have some new Dutch Oven recipes to perfect. Blackened crawfish shish-ke-bob." All that. And that's well and good. But do all these people really LIKE camping? I mean honestly like it and truly enjoy it? Or do they just say so for conversation sake? To be one of the cool kids. What's the actual ALLURE of camping, really?
Me? I'm not a huge fan. In my defense, being a Ginger with translucent skin leaves the door wide open for the worst sunburn ever when camping. I burn walking to the mail box to get the mail each day. The LAST thing I want to do is sequester myself outdoors for 3 days straight, where the only privacy I have is the thin wall of the fantastic new 12 person Mammoth Tent. When I'm sunburned, I need a cold dark room where I can slather up with frozen aloe gel and curse and cry and basically act like a whiney butt. I do NOT need other people having the option to witness these antics because A) there is no solid wall, B) there is no light, so I have to use a flashlight, C) I have to rig up the flashlight so as to be able to use both hands to slather, and D) due to said flashlight rigging, everyone can watch me like a HUGE shadow movie on the Mammoth Tent wall. Anyway, sunburn is not the point of my rant today. Camping is. Why do people camp? I admit, being out in nature, getting away from the rat-race of every day life, can be peaceful and alleviate stress. I enjoy sitting outside listening to the grass blow in the wind, the bugs making their respective bug noises, and what not. It can be quite calming - I get that. But why you wanna stay out there for multiple days? Roughing it. No decent plumbing of any sort in the vicinity. No Sleep-Number mattress to cradle your aging, expanding body. No fridge stocked with ice cream and aloe gel. Why? If you need some time outside build a tree house in your backyard. That's outside, right? Yet still close enough to the bathroom and kitchen area. In a tree house you can easily do your outdoor thing, but still have the facilities to grab a bag of popcorn or go poo if you want. When camping, if you gotta "go #2" you either have dig a hole or hoof it to the nearest restroom. Neither is all that appealing (for reasons I should not have to explain) when you've already held it waaaay too long because you didn't want to go in the first place. Pooping while camping? Pass. HARD pass. And what if the weather is crappy? If its rainy everyone is miserable. You can't make a fire, so you probably can't eat much. Unless you brought a lot of Pringles, donuts and beef jerky you're gonna be grumpy. You can't sit outside in nature. You have to sit INSIDE your tent and stare outside at nature. No one likes to be rained on day in and day out. Ask the people in Seattle. I've heard they have the most suicides there mainly due to the dreary weather. If its too hot, you have the possibility of the aforementioned sunburn issue, but on a greater scale. Even if no one is burned, you still have sweaty, stinky people being all outdoorsy and just adding to the original sweat and stink. But it could be cold, too. Like really cold. So cold you have to add multiple layers of clothes. Just thinking of layers of clothing piled on sweaty, stinky people is enough to make anyone feel kinda sick. No one brought a bathtub, probably, and unless you happen to have set camp up by water, I'm guessing no one has bathed either. And we ALL have armpits. And other crevices. As well as layers of clothing. And its been a few days now. And then there is the Mammoth Tent. A relatively small enclosed area that claims to sleep 12, remember? (You can see where this is leading, right?) Next we need to talk about necessities. How much stuff does one actually need to camp? Why do you go overboard to "bring all the comforts of home to the outdoors?" Why not just stay home?! (Again, a tree house would be a grand idea.) You have to tote a huge tent, all its accoutrements, sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, bags of clothes, food, food food, stuff to drink, multiple coolers with ice, a million flashlights, 419 million batteries, cooking stuff (Dutch ovens may be "the coolest", but they are freakin HEAVY!) portable heaters, chairs, entertainment (staring at nature can only last so long, folks) and who knows what else. But nary a toilet or shower, that's for damn sure! NO way, man. We're roughing it. It takes a minimum of 15 trips from the house to the car to load up. Then you can't fit it all in anyway so you have to reorganize. Twice. Then you realize you've forgotten about 6 pretty important things when you finally get there. (i.e tent rain cover thing, caffeinated drinks, Oreo cookies, socks, ice and Visene just to name a few.) Tell me again who said this s*&t was fun? Let's get dinner started. Oh, yes let's. No one thought to bring wood for the cooking fire, so you have to scout for it. Fine, no big deal. Its not too dark yet. You have this cool grill overlay thing to go on top of the fire, but the stilts to hold it UP and ABOVE the fire didn't make any of the packing runs. So ALL your food is blackened. Not just the promised crawfish shish-ke-bob, but everything. No one eats the crawfish anyway, because it was in the cooler with the forgotten ice. So its been thawed out for several hours. No one wants the trots while on a camping trip! The coals fell off the lid of the Dutch Oven and plopped directly into the rice. Added a tasty little dash of ash. And the corn on the cob rolled off the platter and right on to Wendel's feet. You've all seen that Wendel doesn't aim "out and away" when he goes #1, so you know where those boots have been and what has splashed upon them. And how many times. Nope. Not eating that, either. You are forced to fake a headache and sneak into the Mammoth Tent. You dump your bag out on your air mattress and find a crushed up pkg of peanut butter crackers, one cherry pop tart and two sticks of gum. Ah HA! The food of kings! You shove it all in your mouth in one bite and wash it down with water with Crystal Light added (pink lemonade.) Nectar of the Gods! Its fine - you'll be fine. They always have S'mores on camping trips. You can just load up...oh, wait. What's that? The S'mores stuff is still in Renee's car. Which is still in Renee's driveway. Which is 45 minutes away. Fantastic. Fan-damn-tastic. Night falls and people get tired. Time for bed. But there's no sleeping. You just don't sleep. Not with a group of people in the Mammoth Tent that sleeps 12. HM-hm. You may have a blow-up mattress (aren't YOU the lucky one!) but anytime you move it pitches you off into the floor. But its the Quantum Experience petite feather-weight mattress. (Helluva bargain at $150.00 each.) Coveted by outdoor enthusiasts because it only weights .7 lbs., is lighter than air and can be rolled up to the size of a quarter. FANTASTIC! You plop onto it only to realize your left thigh is bigger than the entire mattress. Bargain indeed! You wind up laying flat on the ground while you listen to your eleven tent mates snore, and fart, and roll around just as miserably. I should also mention now that only half of you have brushed your teeth, and that the stench in the tent is enough to peel paint off walls. If you had walls, that is. Oh...what you'd give for 4 solid walls. Morning finally arrives and everyone crawls and stumbles out of the Mammoth Tent. There may be 2 who are genuinely excited to be alive and awake in God's country. And they let you know this. Repeatedly. To your face. You have held your pee all night and are pondering whether to go directly on them, or turn your back and squat where you stand. Politeness and niceties have run screaming during the night. They probably left because of the horrendous stench emitting from Mammoth Tent due to obvious lack of personal hygiene in the general group. You're dizzy and light-headed, both from lack of oxygen, nutrients and sleep depravation. You sit a spell in one of the chairs, and grab a water. You start to feel somewhat alive again when you realize its only Day 2. You still have to do this s&%t all over again! "Screw that, I'm walking home. You crazy freaks stink to high heaven, I'm so hungry I'm about to eat my own hair, and I have GOT to take a Mother of a dump! Peace out Nature. I'll check you on Discovery channel! WEOUT!" |
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