The rude, crude and socially unacceptable
Although the old adage, “Rules were made to be broken,” is the rebel yell of those who were smoking in the boys’ room, the rest of us have grown a little weary of the people who believe the rules don’t apply to them. I call these people “The Rude, Crude and Socially Unacceptable.”
Mission: Impossible
It used to be my Charlie Brown luck to be seated on an airplane next to the crying baby. Now I go to the movies and people are schlepping in car seats loaded with infants to see R-rated movies. I really don’t know what’s worse, that or the teenager texting during the show. I am really annoyed by the distracting glow of cell phones while trying to actually watch the movie. I find myself renting movies, becoming increasingly reclusive. I’m starting to hate being in “public” amongst the rude, crude and socially unacceptable.
Mother’s Day, for real?
What is it with Mother’s Day? Am I the only one brave enough to ask, “Is this really supposed to be my day?” The answer is no, not at all. It’s yet another holiday geared for the mommy to make it work.
First of all, Mother’s Day should not involve children. It should be a day off to enjoy a little “me” time. This should be the requirement. The day should look something like this:
It starts by waking at your leisure. You should have a quiet morning accompanied by a hot cup of coffee, a copy of the Sunday paper and a breakfast splurge. I mean, all the carbs you want … like a giant bagel. You should be able to get out of the house and fit in a mani/pedi, a facial or dare I say it a massage. The day is followed up by shopping, an iced latte at Starbucks and uninterrupted time at the bookstore.
Preteen madness
Hell hath no fury like a preteen girl. Have you tried to raise one of these?
One minute they’re the lovable, adorable child you’ve come to know and love. They’ll coo into your ear and tell you that you’re the best “mommy” in the world. Then, without warning, without knowing what misstep you’ve made, they’re either rolling their eyes at you, looking at you like you’re an alien or muttering nastiness under their breath.
Essentially, you’ve gone from “mommy” to “mutha” in less time than it takes to make a margarita to help you deal with the hormonal mess that is your daughter standing before you.
Elixir of the gods
What could be better than a good ol’ cup of joe? You may wake up troubled, angry and alone, but there it is, waiting to greet you with dark, soothing warmth and a little burst of caffeine to reboot your system for the day.
I admit that I’m a true coffee-aholic. I’m no picky connoisseur – although I covet a really good cup, I’ll drink it all. From Dunks to ‘Bucks to whatever comes outta the little Mr. Coffee pot in any office, I’ll take it.
Oh baby
Birds do it, bees do it and a lot of celebrities seem to be doing it – have you noticed the belly bumps bouncing around Hollywood these days?
It’s like something’s in the water or the air, and in L.A. it’s probably both.
First of all, what’s the big secret? Those of the female persuasion do have the habit of procreating. These celebrities try to hide the fact that they’re pregnant like they’re guarding the Ark of the Covenant. Really? Who cares.
Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful!
When British journalist Samantha Brick penned an article in the UK’s Daily Mail lamenting that her looks have been a detriment to her both her social life and career, it set off a backlash of “Oh no she didn’t!” heard around the world.
“There are downsides to being pretty — the main one being that other women hate me for no other reason than my lovely looks.”
Pitting women as a bunch of pit bulls that superficially judge each other based on looks, she admonishes that women, in mean girl spirit, turn outwardly into haters, sabotaging friendships, holding pretty girls back from promotions as well as being a perceived threat to their relationships.
“I’m not smug and I’m no flirt, yet over the years I’ve been dropped by countless friends who felt threatened if I was merely in the presence of their other halves. If their partners dared to actually talk to me, a sudden chill would descend on the room.”
Daylight Savings Time – Stop the Madness!
Has everyone recovered yet from the turning of the clocks? Seriously, this has to be the longest standing practical joke every played and frankly I’m a little tired of it…in fact I’m just tired in general from losing an hour of sleep. Can we stop the madness that is daylight savings time?
Haters…
Seems like a lot of hot air is flowing these days. Sometimes people only open their mouths to change feet. Such is the case of Rush Limbaugh who recently went on air with the intent of humiliating a woman, a law school student at George Washington University, who was advocating for birth control to be provided free of charge, and ended up humiliating himself.
Limbaugh raged into his microphone calling Sandra Fluke a “slut” and a “prostitute”.
And the Nominees Are…
Who doesn’t love the movies? I admit it, I could sit through the entire Oscar broadcast, which, including the walk down the red carpet, is about five hours and ten minutes. Thank god for TiVo. I don’t have to miss a second while getting up for snacks and running for bathroom breaks.
This year Billy Crystal is hosting. This makes number eight for him. Have you noticed that he’s starting to resemble the actual Oscar statue itself? Personally, I think they need someone a little edgier. Maybe it’s my snarky personality, but I like my award shows to have a little bite to them. These are the people who get paid obscene amounts of money for going to ‘work’ which has to be more fun than summer camp.
Show Some Love!
Valentine’s Day, the grandaddy of all Hallmark holidays. The day when the pressure is on to be romantic.
You can’t turn on the T.V. without ads depicting a beautiful couple at a romantic destination, dining outdoors, on a deck, by candlelight, overlooking the ocean, under a billowing white canopy while the sun sets, gently touching the sea…stzzz, you can hear it sizzle. Cut to the handsome gentleman retrieving a box out of his jacket pocket and presenting his intended with some huge sparkly object. Her eyes light up and they lock lips in an unending tender embrace.
I wouldn’t say I’m jaded about romance and amore. I would say I’m just realistic. In my household Valentine’s Day will most likely be celebrated on a day near Valentine’s Day – with four kids, romance is a planned event.
Up Yours…
Living up to the hype, this year’s Super Bowl was a real nail biter, something the whole family could enjoy – that is until someone has to do something to shine in the spotlight.
You know, that proud moment when rapper M.I.A saluted the American public by raising her middle finger and telling us just how she felt about doing it.
Although I’m no stranger to bad behavior, I have a 9 year old who thinks fart is a funny word and likes to use it at the dinner table, there is a time and place for middle finger use and half time at the Super Bowl is just not one of them.
Just to keep us all in line, I thought I’d offer a guide of sorts, a middle finger zinger…here we go.
The classic the out the driver’s side window to legitimately cast your opinion on the driving ‘skills’ of another individual. This can also be further illustrated with yelling some form of constructive criticism as well.
Superbowl 46 … I Think I Get It!
I’m not a huge sports fan. As a Bostonian I adore my beloved Red Sox and all things New England, so with the Patriots in it this year, I’ll be able to join my husband in front of the tube to watch it – particularly with Tom Brady and Eli Manning playing. Neither are hard to look at…well actually they are under those helmets and all that padding.
The problem is, well, the entire game itself. I just can’t seem to follow along. Baseball is easy, there are runners and hitters, balls and strikes. The rules are easy to understand. Three strikes, you’re out. Get tagged ditto.
Lucky, Lucky Us!
Home alone.
Another day to face. What to do. Laundry, shopping, cooking, cleaning and looking for work.
Like so many American’s I wake up to face another day at home, by myself and I’m mad.
I can’t believe how this country has turned it’s back on it’s own people. Companies are refusing to hire people, instead making the people they have work harder and longer and for less. Many companies are not paying their workers a fair living wage as well, they are not extending any benefits. Their excuse is the horrible economy – And we buy it.
The American Dream is dead replaced by the new American mantra “I’m lucky to have a job,” and I for one am sick to death of hearing the new chant.
Spring Forward, Fall Back…Just Let Me Sleep, OK?
Has everyone recovered from our yearly moving of the clock? It seems to me that most people are okay after a day or two…for me, it takes about a month. I see it as jet lag, without the fun travel part, and I don’t like it. Maybe I should move to a state that does not practice the art of confusion or as most call it, Daylight Savings Time.
It has to be the only thing I don’t like about Spring.
Can someone explain why we still do this? Twice a year it’s like a big joke that the government plays on us. Let’s move the clocks. What lunatic invented this? I’ve heard the reasoning behind it: Continue reading Spring Forward, Fall Back…Just Let Me Sleep, OK?…
Forty…Fabulous? – Not So Much!
Spring may be when a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love, but for me, this is the May I’ve been dreading for 39 years. Yes, I’m gonna hit 40. Did I just admit that on paper?
I must be getting old.
Facing 40 makes you ponder some of life’s biggest most mysterious questions?
Why am I here?
What does it all mean?
Will there be any Social Security left for those of us who paid into it?
What ever happened to Cyndi Lauper?
When the hell is garbage day and why can’t I ever remember that?
Copyright © 2007 Michelle Kaplan. Blog is Powered by WordPress.
WordPress Template is a Phycel Designs Creation and Hosted by Phycel Hosting.