Category Archives: Humor

Entertainment, family, Family Dynamics, Fun, Game Shows, Humor, Psychology, Television

8 Reasons Why You Need to Watch This

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In the last few months, Hubs and I have been amusing ourselves by watching Family Feud (with “your man” Steve Harvey) in the early evenings.

The two of us have a pretty short list of the shows we have gotten into together over the years, and for many of them, we only made it to just beyond the middle of the series, if that.

But then there’s Family Feud (with Steve Harvey): a game show pitting two American families against each other to win an amount of money, after taxes, which covers most of the cost of travel/hotel/meals for them if they’re lucky.

These are the things, perhaps because of my social work background, that I think about sometimes when I watch the show with Hubs. I hope for their sakes that none of them wind up in the negative financially as a result of their participation.

So I got a little side-tracked there. My apologies.

But, you know what, and I say this on account of my rosy-shaded lenses, I imagine that if you were to interview members of these families shortly after their experience on this hilarious and life-affirming half-hour American game show, they’d tell you that they had so much fun. Not only while taping the show together as a unit, but the getting there. The great seafood they had the night before at the restaurant across from their hotel. The brief, perhaps awkward and funny, conversations they may have had prior to taping with someone from the other family’s team.

Anyway, that’s my theory. Pardon my verbosity.

Truthfully, I’ve just got so much to say about what I think, feel, and wonder about this show, I should just find some fan club online so I can really geek out about it.

Excuse me while I imagine a scenario in which I’ve befriended legit fans who are real and decent people and together we form a weekly Zoom gathering during which we watch one episode together and gab about it as we go.

Fun, fun, fun!!

Ok, I’ll end this post with the most important point of all, which is why YOU, yes YOU, need to DVR (that’s how these Gen X’ers do it), stream, or simply watch Family Fued in real time with Steve Harvey ASAP.

Consider it a pitch, if you will.

8 Reasons Why YOU need to watch FFWSH (or fwish, if you prefer):

  • Because diversity is awesome! You get a more clear picture of the diversity of American families in the here and now when you watch it.
  • Steve Harvey’s ad-libbing and the faces he makes. He is a comedic genius, to me, with his deadpan responses or imitations of other family members’ potential reactions to the contestant’s answers.
  • The questions! But MY biggest question about the questions is thus: Who are and where do they find the people being surveyed? Ok, yes, this question is a two-parter, I realize, but come on! I have theories, let’s just say. It’d be interesting to find out if they were baseless or not.
  • The answers! How I see it is that there is one of two ways the almost always bonkers questions can be answered: from a completely subjective point of view (as in, how you would answer if someone came up to you in the cereal aisle of the grocery store and asked you this question), or from a more objective point of view (as in, how you think this random group of 100 married men would respond to the question).
  • “Your Man” Steve Harvey’s impeccable suits (most of them anyway-critiquing them is something I’ve been known to engage in while viewing this show).
  • The simplicity of it. Anyone can play! Not necessarily well, mind you. There is often that one contestant that’s either jet-legged or overly nervous or terribly hard of hearing or whatever, who gives the strangest possible answer. And it’s hilarious, because once in a while that “strangest possible answer” is on the board!
  • The fashion! I appreciate that the families on the show, in the majority of cases, put careful thought into what outifts they are going to wear. They typically wear a matching color scheme, have treated themselves to manicures, and put on their best ties or dresses. It’s maybe a little of a throwback to days long ago, when people were first experiencing air travel. They dressed to the nines to commemorate the exciting event.
  • You get just a little peak into family dynamics. Maybe that sounds voyeuristic, but it’s interesting to me. Seeing the love, the trust, the support displayed between family members gives me good vibes. Witnessing a truly surprising reaction via body language to an answer another family member comes up with can be hilarious.

And now, a little song and dance courtesy of You Tube and Sister Sledge. Check out those chic matching outfits!

Friendships, Humor, Life, marriage, Self-Reflection, Time Management

Chronically Tardy

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Who’s chronically late out there?

I’m pokey. I take forever to get things done. To get my ass in gear.

I know I am not the only one.

My chronic tardiness annoys the hell out of people, especially the Hubs, who is very punctual.

Bless his heart, he’s put up with this for over 33 years.

Virtually anyone who knows me IRL will say that having a relationship with me, the kind where you go places in public together, requires patience.

I’ve become more self-aware in the last year, however, which is why I aim to be purposefully patient when I’m interacting with others. Whether it’s my immediate family, the neighbor I just met in my driveway, or my favorite female friends, I try to pay it back.

Yet, my frequent tardiness causes unnecessary stress. I don’t like feeling like I’m disappointing people. But know this: I’m continually running late not because I don’t value your presence and don’t have a feeling of adrenaline running through me in anticipation of whatever we’re doing together.

I like to think those who know me best sense this vibe coming out of me every which way in these moments and choose to love me anyway.

I believe my chronic tardiness is how I’m wired.

Bear with me here.

I was born late. About 6 or 7 years late, I’d say, based on what my Mom told me often when she was still alive.

I was the baby my parents hoped and tried for, after my sister was born. I just took my sweet time getting here. I was born just a bit over 8 years after her.

It stands to reason that my late arrival into this world has at least something to do with my chronic lateness. It’s a theory anyway. Not an excuse, mind you, but an explanation.

I kid you not: I recently perused my old high school yearbook. On one page, there was what can only be referred to as a rambling mess of inside jokes written by, I imagine, a small group of nerdy yearbook kids. At the end of this “piece” is written “and Rhonda K is still eating lunch”.

That, of course, was me they were referring to.

I read an article on NPR earlier this year about chronic lateness. I found it really interesting, and you may as well. Click here for the link.

According to the article, time is a social construct. How cultures view time varies, though essentially one’s view is either “event” based or “clock” based. I clearly fall more into the “event based” camp. If I tell you I’m going to meet up with you today at 11 a.m., I will meet up with you. I’m never one of those “no show” people. Yet, perhaps largely because I am an American living in the U.S., I understand and appreciate those in the “clock based” crowd.

Would you consider yourself “clock” based or “event” based when it comes to time? And what do you make of it?

While you consider those questions, I hope you take the time to enjoy this “timely” cover of a fantastic pop song by Chicago, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time it Is?”

***Header image courtesy of https://quotesgram.com/late-funny-quotes/

Celebrate, Entertainment, Fun, Humor, Love, Romance, Television

Love, American Style

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Are you singing that song in your head, folks?

You, fellow Gen X and up Americans, most likely know what song I’m referring to. It’s the one from that goofy t.v. show of the same title from the 1970’s. I think it might be the first tune that my brain latched onto as a youth.

For those not in the know, here it is:

Clearly, this is a post about love. It’s Valentine’s Day and yesterday was Galentine’s Day, my lovely readers!

I just had to give a shout out to a character I loved so much from one of the best American sitcoms ever: that waffle loving gal Leslie Knope from Parks and Recreation, played by the wonderful Amy Poehler.

Image courtesy of https://merakimusings.org/galentines-day/

Speaking of Parks and Recreation, Hubs and I recently began watching “The Last of Us” on HBO Max. And, to our surprise, Ron Swanson showed up.

Of course, the actor, Nick Offerman was not in character as Ron Swanson here. That would be weird. He was instead playing a character living in isolation after the world went to complete crap due to a fungal catastrophe that killed the majority of humans and turned them into zombies.

His character, Bill, encountered another man, Frank, who was seeking shelter. Bill opened up his home to Frank and they fell in love.

I applaud the writers and creators of this show for giving us a tender and honest story that reflects the vulnerability of falling in love. As a LGBTQ+ ally, I appreciate that they chose to validate and lift up same-sex love and romance in the way they did. This episode brought me to tears and I believe Nick Offerman deserves all of the awards that exist for sharing this character and his story with the world.

As Bill, Nick Offerman performed a song (originally sung by the songbird Linda Ronstadt), in such a beautifully vulnerable manner in this episode. It really touched my heart, and I can’t imagine it not touching yours. Here it is, courtesy of YouTube:

This gives me chills

Any of you who haven’t yet seen “The Last of Us” ought to really get on with it. It is just so well done.

Since I’m going on here about love-worthy American t.v. shows; I’ve gotta tell you I love the new show on Peacock, “Poker Face”. It stars the one and only Natasha Lyonne (who, incidentally, worked with Amy Poehler from the aforementioned Parks and Recreation to create Russian Doll on Netflix), and it’s a winner. One of the many cool things about this show, beyond Natasha’s portrayal of the character Charlie, is how the producers put in little bits of nostalgia for those old mystery shows that some of us watched back in the 70’s. Like good old “Kojak” and “Murder She Wrote”.

For instance, the font used in the credits. The titles of episodes (like “Exit Stage Death” which featured Ellen Barkin and Tim Meadows at their ridiculous best). The way how, at the end of each episode, Charlie presents her thought process on what really happened (i.e., who, how, and why the person was murdered). It’s so refreshing to see a t.v. show that is about murder yet not overtly violent. In one episode, Charlie made a reference to “Felix Unger” from the “Odd Couple”, which I thought was particularly clever.

I believe that American t.v. is very good at the moment and I am loving it.

How about you?

I hope your Valentine’s Day is full of sweet, funny, and lovely moments, whether you watch some good old (or new) American t.v. or not. And plenty of chocolate of course!

Image courtesy of https://tokyotreat.com/blog/valentines-day-candy-the-best-straight-from-tokyo

Ambition, Anxiety, Blogging, Creative Writing, Employment, Humor, Self Improvement

Ambition, Anxiety, and 2023

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I am just one of a multitude of personal bloggers out there in the world. But I think what makes me unique is that I’m saddled with a complex that comedian Michelle Wolf is at least partially responsible for.

During a stand up special I watched a while back, she said something to the effect of “So you tell me you have a blog, right?”. She makes a weird face, then continues with “Oh, that’s cute. You write stuff about yourself and your life that nobody wants to read but you put it out there anyway? Good for you!” This, from my recollection, was said with a big fat smirk on her cute little curly headed face.

Don’t get me a wrong-I got over her chipmunk-ey voice enough to enjoy her comedy. She has that quality that, to me, marks a truly great comedian: she pushes boundaries and speaks uncomfortable truths. And I applaud her sensible yet hip footwear choices.

But…..ouch! I resemble her remarks.

I am curious though; can anyone else relate to the feeling of being called out like this? Totally rational as it was not a one on one conversation I had with Ms. Wolf here, right? Like being seen for who you are, but not in a good way, making you want to immediately crawl back into the hole of complete social obscurity?

If this sounds like you, please share your stories in the comments. Commiserating with you all is a huge perk for me as a blogger.

Moving on (oblivious of course to the possibility that I’m simply proving Michelle Wolf right).

I blogged in this space pretty sporadically in 2022. I blogged about the massive changes the year brought for me and my family, some aspects getting more emphasis than others. This year, I’ve shared my political opinions. I’ve talked about my grandson in this space.

For those of you who have read what I wrote in this space in 2022 and chose to come back and read more and/or gave me a follow, I thank you so very much for that. It’s appreciated.

2023 is now upon us.

I’ve got a lot of ambition when it comes to blogging and writing. I am certain that if I don’t step it up now, I won’t ever get to wherever it is that I’m supposed to be as a creative writing enthusiast.

So, 2023 is the year in which I step things up.

Baby steps, of course. But like, a ton of them.

Step #1 is to publish blog posts more frequently.

Leaning into learning is what I’ll be doing in the new year, in tandem with blogging. Gobbling up more self-help books. Taking online courses and following threads that pique my curiosity. Improving my photography skills. Gaining more knowledge about child psychology. Stuff like that. Learning about the things that I can use for good, if that makes sense.

I’ve also got a plan to improve my health by sharpening my culinary skills and keeping a food diary. I will be pursuing paid employment in 2023 as well, because at 55 I’m not interested in retiring yet. Exploring all employment options (self, at home, in a store or a non-profit) and blogging about it along the way will be happening.

The caveat for me is that going into 2023, I will continue watching my grandson most weekday afternoons. To make any headway on these plans of mine, I need to summon a great amount of self-discipline. My days will need to become more structured. I do have a plan for that. It starts with having a better sleep schedule and a set time for blogging related stuff every day.

2023 feels bright and shiny to me right now. That’s probably due to my optimistic nature. I am self-aware enough though to know the shine of the new year will fade over time. Bumps in the road will happen, as they do. I (and you) ought to remain nimble to overcome and adjust.

I realize this post was a lot. If you’re still reading this, well, thanks Pal.

You are the best.

**pic of Michelle Wolf wearing cool shoes courtesy of https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/michelle_wolf_joke_show**

**HNY image courtesy of https://www.rd.com/article/new-year-wishes/**

Fashion, Humor, Life, Overthinking

Why Yes, This is a Post about Socks

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But first.

Something recently dawned on me: overthinking leads to indecisiveness which causes stagnancy.

That is why, today, less than 24 hours after starting this particular piece, you are getting a blog post from me about socks.

I’ve got too much going on in my day to day life now which hampers my ability to sit down and actually focus on writing a blog post. It’s all good, really. Or, most of it is. And I’m certain more of it will be. Time, patience, faith, and love for my family will get me through.

Anyway. About the damn socks.

I am a fan of them. In non-summer months of course.

I once had a business idea solely based on my appreciation of fuzzy socks (at least that’s what I call them, I’m sure there are other names for them). It was this: buy them in bulk. Bedazzle them. Find someone who can cross-stitch some bawdy catch-phrases onto them. Sell them on Etsy, at craft fairs. Probably not “Shark Tank” worthy but at the very least a fun art project, right?

I’ve sometimes wondered about those sock stores found in shopping malls. Do they make money at all? Maybe they’re owned and operated by obscenely wealthy trust fund babies who are obsessed with socks, so it doesn’t matter much if they are profitable. Who exactly buys their socks there on the regular? The potential answers to these questions intrigue me.

My youngest kid once had the following take on socks: “I don’t want to wear them, they are not the comfortable ones!” So, does that mean perhaps there is such a thing as uncomfortable socks? That people pay money for? Are they made with sandpaper? Tell me more, kid!

Wait a second.

Actually, I do own one pair of uncomfortable socks.

In my defense, they were free. I spotted them at work, when they were donated to the thrift store when I ran the food pantry there. Getting free stuff every so often was a sweet little perk at that job.

Despite my generous girth, I’ve got small feet (size 6). Yet, I could barely get these godforsaken socks over my feet and calves. The black stitching under the french fries is weirdly tight. They feel like compression socks, which I thankfully don’t need at this time. So, yes, kids, uncomfortable socks do exist after all.

If any of you are able to give me a viable explanation of why wearing mis-matched socks has become a thing in American society, that’d be great. Is it mere laziness, like it was when my kids did it as teenagers? Or is it a fashion statement that just flew under my radar?

There’s a surpising amount of songs about socks out there (yes that’s the kind of shit I google) but this one is special. Enjoy, my fellow sock fans!

Adventure, Anxiety, Changes, family, Humor, Life, Summer, Travel

At The Moment

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Is it starting to feel like summer where you live? Are the kids you know and love all graduated and working towards getting ready for their next chapter? Are you eagerly anticipating the next great summer pop song?

I’m cautiously optimistic about this new life that we, as a couple, are going to craft beginning this summer, in Wisconsin.

Hubs, our good boy Radar, and I will be hitting the road in less than 24 hours.

Towing this:

Our summer home!

But for this brief moment in time (aka me trying to remember that #thistooshallpass), things in these parts are super wonky.

Examples:

There is a box of cleaning supplies sitting on top of Hubs’ office chair at this moment.

My dining room table is filled with a combination of disposable grocery bags filled with clothes that need to be put in our camper, 2 old computer monitors , recently found plastic easter eggs with jelly beans inside them (score!), and a parking ticket courtesy of the city of Denver (my bad-but hey I got it paid online just now!).

We cannot park our Tacoma in the garage any longer. It’s filled with stuff for the movers to put in their truck, stuff for the junkyard dogs to pick up, and whatnot.

But that’s the sucky part of moving, right? And it’s almost over.

Did you know that prairie dogs are plentiful in Colorado? Well, now you do!

Hubs and I will be celebrating our recent 32nd wedding anniversary on the road, as we make our way to our next (and final?) destination. To find our “forever” home, as they say. The home we will die in. Or maybe not actually physically die in. I will just say the odds are that it’ll be the house in which we reside when we take our final breaths.

Ok, that’s just dark. Sorry folks, my anxiety is showing.

Really, what Hubs and I will be doing on our cruise through the upper Midwest is a lot of talking. We collectively have some shit to process. Stuff to discuss. Ideas to share. Plans to make. Pages to get on.

But also: the two of us have this unfettered opportunity to cut loose and have some fun. Maybe try some new food and drink, discover new places to rest our heads at night, and just sort of savor the quiet.

I am trying to resist the temptation to segue into how I hope for things to turn out beyond this road trip. Once we’ve landed in small town Wisconsin and reunited with our family and old friends.

At the moment, however, I’m going to make the wise choice and live in the here and now. Give myself and Hubs the “present” of being plugged into our present.

Raise a glass with me, friends! Cheers to a happy, fun, and safe summer!

Anger, Blogging, Honesty, Humor, Life, Moods

8 Things I Can’t Get Behind

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I haven’t published a blog post in a couple of weeks. That makes me crabby. Other things in my life are making me crabby as well. I have faith I will get through it, however, and the crabby-ness will dissipate over time.

In the spirit of crabbiness, I present to you the 8 (random and completely unrelated to each other) things I cannot get behind. If you’re feeling crabby like I am right now, I encourage you to share in the comments the things you personally cannot get behind as well.

Misery loves company and all that.

This post might indicate a need for me to trash my “tag line” on the home page of this blog, which reads: “Tales from an optimist transplanted from Wisconsin to Colorado. Finding silver linings, lifting others up, sharing positively good stuff”.

At the very least, I promise to publish a less pissy post next time.

  • Grown adults wearing cartoon character clothing. I think they look ridiculous. Not that I don’t like to frequently wear my brightly colored LuLuRoe leggings purchased from a local thrift store. So you can take this opinion with a grain of salt I suppose. Just know that if you see me in a Goofy (the dog) sweatshirt in public, something is terribly wrong. I’ve either been kidnapped and forced to wear someone else’s clothes or all my clothes burned in a fire.
  • The phrase “SorryNotSorry”. To me, it’s snotty sounding. Privileged. I do think it was bourne out of good intentions though, as too many of us women run around apologizing all day long for every little thing. I once met someone through a former workplace who wore a necklace with this phrase on it. It made me want to barf.
  • Angry white men. Seriously dudes what in holy hell do you have to be so angry about? You have carte blanche in this world. A free pass to do as you please. Opportunities galore based on being born male and white.
  • Businesses spelling their names incorrectly in a “cutesy” way. Certainly this is done to stand out so that potential customers remember them next time they’re in the market for a new “kar”. Maybe it’s just me but when I see big signs on the highway with purposely misspelled names I cringe.
  • Gender Reveal Parties. You’re having a baby, people! Why put the focus on gender like this? You’ll love the baby no matter the gender, right? If not, you’re just an asshole. Just call it a baby shower FFS and let the gender be a surprise. Don’t even get me started on the phrase “we’re having a baby.”
  • When people wear mis-matched socks. This drove me nuts when my kids did this as teenagers. I assumed they did this because they lacked the motivation to find matching socks (aka laziness). But now when I’m out and about in the world I am seeing people well over the age of 14 wearing two totally different socks on their feet. Why, just why??
  • When people who I am certain have at least finished the 12th grade use poor grammar. Prime example: I should “of” instead of I should “have”. It floors me how often I come across this on social media.
  • Sweet Potatoes. Potatoes should be salty, peppery, buttery…not sweet. I feel like a real weirdo about this because it seems 9 times out of 10 when I’m engaging in foodie conversations with others and I state my disgust of these things, I’m met with “really? Oh, they’re so delicious, especially with brown sugar and marshmallows”.

Aging, Body image, Employment, Female Empowerment, Fun, Girlfriends, Humor, Middle Age, Sisterhood, Weight

Weight Schmeight

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A couple of months ago, when I was still employed, my co-worker Maureen, laughing her head off, presented this book to me. She had discovered it while sorting through donations for the thrift store portion of the non-profit we worked for.

This, I think, is one of the simple things in life to treasure: working with someone who likes and appreciates you. Someone who’s thoughtful, generous, and knows how to make you laugh. I just love this woman. She always lightened my mood.

I read this book shortly after she gave it to me.

It’s important to note that the author, Wendy Reid Crisp, wrote this in 1995. Because of that, some of her commentary is not necessarily applicable or relatable, in my view, to the upper middle-aged women of today. Like me.

Yet there were some bits and pieces that struck a chord with me.

Here’s one excerpt that I have a little something to say about:

“I’m not going to….3. Introduce body parts as topics of conversation.

In New England, there’s a group of women in their sixties who have been friends for forty years and who meet annually for a long weekend at a good spa. Their first event, on Friday night, is an “organ recital”. Everyone recites ad nauseam the state of her organs-heart, uterus, lungs, kidneys-and other anatomical conditions. As it should be, for the rest of the weekend the subject of personal health is taboo”.

I love this. Having a group of friends who get together yearly at a spa sounds fabulous! I’ve had this notion for a while now that someday, I’ll have a girls weekend. My sister will be there along with my “bonus” sister (Hubs’ sister), along with a couple of my girlfriends and a few cousins. We will sip sangria in the mornings, jam out to rocking tunes, and spend time in a pool or lake lounging on giant inflatable flamingos. We will dance, we will laugh, and we will raise a little hell.

It will be epic.

But there’d be one catch: at my girls weekend, on Friday night, we will engage in newfangled version of Ms. Reid-Crisp’s “organ recital”. There will be a designated amount of time (not to exceed one hour) during which we are allowed to freely discuss all things related to our weight. We can bitch about our muffin tops. We can talk about the pros/cons of intermittent fasting. We can swap Keto recipes. But when the timer goes “ding” (yes I will bring a timer) that’s that, ladies.

I might even bring a big old jar that those in the group who utter a word about their weight at any point after our Friday night “recital” will be required to put a dollar in. Kind of like a “sear jar”. All monies collected could later be donated to Planned Parenthood or another non-profit that benefits women.

I say all this because I detest the conversations we women always seem to engage in about our bodies. Our weight issues. It bores me. It seriously irritates me. I don’t like how when one woman will look at a perfectly good tray of delicious cupcakes and make some comment like “I need one of those like I need a hole in my head”. Because then, I feel like I need to “own” the fact that I’m a little fat. Probably 10-15 lbs over what I “should” be based on my height. I always feel compelled to respond by saying I don’t “need” a cupcake either.

Like “hey girlfriend, I’m fat too!”

I just find this troubling. There’s so much more to us women than how we look in our jeans. Or how we think others think we look in our jeans, I suppose.

And there’s so many more interesting topics of conversation, right? The books we’ve been reading, the vacations we’re planning, the new job we are applying for, the state of the world, our favorite movies, who’s pissing us off at work, who’s pissing us off at home, caring for aging parents, fun experiences we’ve shared together, and so very much more.

Sometimes inspiration comes from an unexpected source. Thank you Maureen, and thank you Ms. Reid-Crisp.

***Featured Image courtesy of https://www.healthygirl.co.za/20-healthy-girl-body-positive-quotes/

Baking, Balance, Blogging, Christmas, Emotions, Holidays, Honesty, Humor, Lifestyle, Moods

How Are You Rolling These Days?

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I ask this as a sincere question.

Like, I can take it. Be real.

Think of it as a “check in”.

I also ask this because I have a full blown complex about coming across on this blog as self-centered, self-involved and driven solely by self-interest. Like “me me me me me” obnoxiousness.

Please God tell me I am not alone in this.

However, I know the nature of a personal blog is that it is personal. Attached at the hip to who the blogger is as a person. Like, no one is paying me to write news articles here. I am not beholden to anyone other than myself (and you) in this space.

It’s really quite the conundrum, don’t you think?

Also, I am not in the right head space to finish and publish the post I most recently started about work and career and me (of course).

Because of Christmas. Because of Work. Because I have the crud (aka sinus and possible ear infection, and yes I should get my ass to the doctor’s office).

So, tell me, how are you feeling physically these days?

Aside from the crud, my shoulders are aching more than usual. Likely because of the physical activity my upper body has been up to, with all the Christmas cookie baking and packaging I’ve been doing. I am hop Blah .Blah. Blah.

I freaking love baking. Christmas cookies especially. My secret? I keep it simple. No high-falutin Martha Stewart shit going on behind the scenes over here.

Though someday, I think I’d enjoy simply trying some of Martha’s recipes or DIY tricks. Maybe when I have this kitchen to cook and bake in.

How’s your attitude?

Currently, I am waffling between “let’s get Christmas wrapped up, mmmkay?” and “Christmas is my favorite!” Depends on the day. I am very much looking forward to making some merry though. Especially this weekend when I’ll be dressed as an elf while working at my employer’s “Santa Shop”, where donated presents, food, and hygiene products are given out to low income families.

How are you feeling emotionally?

Good question. Hard to answer actually don’t you think? I push those emotions of mine down during times of extreme stress. So much so that I can’t properly answer this question. Once I start seeing the light at the end of this Christmas tunnel I have faith that my body will relax and those emotions will come to the surface. I’ll sit down on my couch with Radar, sip some wine, and let it go.

All of the above and more is why I’ve determined that I’m going to choose one word to focus on in the New Year: “Balance”.

I was totally going to end this post with the loveliest Christmas music video I could find on YouTube.

Instead, I’m going to share two of my newest favorite songs; both of them stick in my head as I go about my day and lift me up. Maybe they’ll do the same for you.

I have been a fan of this dude for about 8 years or so. Can’t wait to see him at Red Rocks (or anywhere else) someday.

Doesn’t this just make you yearn for a tropical vacation this spring????
Anxiety, Cats, Childhood, Compassion, Humor, Laughter

Raccoons, Cats, and Me

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A couple of weeks ago, Hubs and I were laughing about a post from a woman on the Next Door app who had a raccoon slip in through the doggy door. She shared the cutest picture of this little creature. Later in the thread, she posted that she determined it would in fact not be fun to let the critter roam about at will, and found herself throwing everything she could immediately grab at him until he high-tailed it out of there.

This reminded me of another ridiculous thing I saw on the Next Door app a couple of months ago. So Karen this lady posted footage from her porch camera which showed a girl about 10 years old throwing a book shaped object towards a cat sitting in the lady’s driveway. Of course it was her cat, and of course everyone lost their shit and assumed this was an evil child who taunts and torments neighborhood pets for shits and giggles. Unsurprisingly, everyone jumped on this kids parents and questioned what they must be teaching in their home.

I chose to not comment on this post, because my gut told me there was more to this story.

I felt for the kid. It made me remember how my mother, Bonnie, instilled in me a fear of cats. Back when I was in elementary school, Bonnie would be periodically hired to do some interior painting in people’s houses. The one thing she hated about this is the cats inside those houses. They freaked her out. She didn’t like how quiet and sneaky they were. She didn’t like how they climbed the counters and sometimes sit atop the cabinets and hiss at her. She did not trust them for a second.

When I was 12 or 13, some young, foolish parents (I honestly can’t remember who) chose to hire me to babysit for their 1 or 2 year old (?) kid so they could enjoy a night out. I didn’t know they also had a cat until I got there.

Now this was more than 40 years ago, so the details are fuzzy at best. I remember the cat pursuing me around their little house. Like I was prey. I avoided it as best I could.

With adrenaline running through my veins, I got a bright idea: I could trap the cat in the bathroom, thereby protecting myself from this evil feline for the remainder of the night.

I imagine I found some sort of treat which I then threw into the bathroom. Once the cat ran in, I slammed that bathroom door shut and then marveled at my resourcefulness.

Around an hour later, I had to pee. As Bonnie always said “like a race horse”.

That was when it occurred to me that there was only one bathroom (remember I said this was a “little” house).

Oops!

I panicked. I had zero confidence that the kid’s parents were coming back anytime soon. And I sure as hell wasn’t brave enough to let that demon out of the bathroom, especially considering how pissed he would surely be that I trapped him in there earlier.

So I came up with another bright idea.

I found a Tupperware bowl in the kitchen. Then I proceeded to put it on the floor, pulled down my jeans, and squatted down above the bowl, releasing everything out of my bladder. What relief!

I swear to God I do not recall what happened when the couple returned home. I like to think I disposed of the pee-filled Tupperware bowl, washed it thoroughly, and returned it to it’s original home. Yet, thinking back to how clueless I was at that age, I’m guessing I did not.

Now back to the story about the girl and the cat post on Next Door.

My gut was correct here. There was more to it. The child’s mother responded to the thread with a mixture of disgust for her asinine neighbors’ wrong headed reactions to the video and original post, and loving acceptance and understanding of her daughter’s side of things.

It turned out that the kid was deathly afraid of cats (like me at that age) and because of that fear she was trying to scare the cat away. She was not trying to maim or kill the poor thing (you can see I’ve evolved and am no longer scared of cats). And the kid was also a sensitive one, because when she heard about what all the neighbors were saying, her mom reported that she was devastated. This whole debacle probably put her in therapy, if she wasn’t there already.

**Header image courtesy of https://www.123rf.com/