I spent most of my twenties worshiping marine mammals. I volunteered at various dolphin facilities, spent hours cutting up fish for dolphin, helping with stranded whales and worrying about sea turtles (I know they are not marine mammals). I loved all things ocean, especially dolphins and whales.
But I’ve become increasingly concerned and confused by the inexplicable actions of some dolphins and whales and my feeling about these lovely sea creatures.
I totally understand why Orcas sometimes kill their trainers. that makes perfect sense to me. What befuddles me are the stupid whales. On average a whale can stay underwater for 45 minutes to an hour. They can dive thousands of feet under water and most whales can swim 20 to 30 miles an hour. Whales also reportedly have terrific memories.
So, why is is it, when they see a ship full of humans, specifically a whaling vessel, a boat that floats around the ocean killing hundreds of their friends and neighbors, they don’t dive underwater and swim away. Man has been killing whales for hundreds of years, why don’t they stay away from us. Other animals seem to know or understand that humans are often times evil so they get the hell away from us. Why don’t dolphins and whales, possibly the most intelligent creatures on earth, do what idiot deer do during hunting season? RUN AWAY!
Dolphins are even worse. Every year there is a dolphin slaughter in the same Japanese cove. Thousands of dolphins are killed, EVERY YEAR. The ocean turns red with their blood. So, my question is, why do they go to that cove ever single freaking year? Stop going there, it’s a bad place, tell your dolphin buddies to swim away.
If there was an Exxon station and every time I stopped there for gas a member of my family was butchered…I wouldn’t go there for gas…ever. And I think even my youngest children, even the 2 and 3 year olds would figure out pretty quickly, “stay the hell away from the Exxon station, somebody gets wacked every time we go there. Even if they have candy and Cheetos, don’t stop.”
I still love dolphins and whales. And I would give anyting to relive my days of sitting on a dock in the Florida Keys with my feet in the warm water while a couple of deliciously smooth dolphins swam under the soles of my feet, they allowed me to run my feet from their blowhole to their fluke. I still get goose bumps thinking about how good that felt. But I have to wonder about their practical memory. Guys, Captain Ahab has mental problems, he uses whale blubber in his lamps. You’ve got to start swimming away.
This weekend in Wal-Mart I saw a kid, he’s probably 20 now, with Wranglers, a giant rodeo belt buckle and ropers. He stopped and spoke to several of the older Wal-Mart employees in such a sweet manner that it took me a minute to realize it was John Gun. A kid I’d crossed off my “nice” list when he was 13.
Oh my lord, back then he was such a butt face punk, with greasy hair, jeans sagging way way down low and a Skol ring in his back pocket. He’d spit right in front of me, curse like a crazy hobo in front of my six year old daughter and flip off ever other kid in the school parking lot. He was a nightmare and I didn’t like him. And he’d been a decent boy from a solid family. I was stunned and kind of sickened.
But I watched him in Wal-Mart and it was pretty obvious he was a different young man. Kind of goofy but much improved.
It’s imperative we forgive teenagers, especially the guys, for the vile, moron idiots they sometimes become in high school. I don’t know why they do it but we have to forgive them or we will deprive ourselves.
There was a kid in our Taekwon do school, I watched him grow up, he was my buddy and I taught him how to drive a stick shift. Then, when he turned 15 something horrible happened to him. Not only did his face break out he became sullen, rude and mean spirited. He had terrible posture and didn’t care who he hurt verbally or physically. I wanted to run over James. I wanted him to get arrested. We all tried to talk to him, to counsel him, to sympathize or deliver tough lough. Nothing worked. for three years he was just a horrible jerk with really bad grades.
Today, James is twenty, he’s married to a beautiful sweet smart girl, he’s a special ranger super duper soldier guy with the United States Army. He sends me funny notes and pictures on Facebook.
James has never apologized for the monster he was in High School and he never will. Maybe he doesn’t even realize what a heart breaking troll he was. The important thing is, he’s an awesome young man now and he makes me proud every day.
We all know kids like these and we have to find a way to forgive them and appreciate the young men they become. Just let it go. I know for a while I couldnt’ do it and the only person I hurt (they didn’t miss the friendship of a middle aged woman) was myself.
If you do know a kid that’s turned into some horrible sinister version of himself you don’t need to be his buddy right now, especially if he’s not related to you. Sometimes that’s too hard. But do yourself a favor and wait for him on the other side of manhood. You might be surprised.
Comments OffTags: forgiveness, teenaged boys
Last week I had to spend eight hours in one of the finest hospitals… in Arkansas. I feel much better today so they did a pretty good job fixing me up still, several things stood out about the adventure.
First, when I did the paperwork the clerk was ridicilously impressed that I had insurance. Seriously, she said “Wow, people under 65 never have insurance, that’s great.”
I’m thinking I need to call the republicans and let them know about his conversation.
Once I was in my room with my “nurse call button” and television remote control it was time for the IV. The nurse asked if “Ivan, the chubby nursing student” could try his luck. I squinted and squirmed.
“Well”, she said “he has to practice sometime.”
Ivan smiled and explained he’d worked in the sawmill for twenty years before they closed and he had to change careers. Now 45 year old Ivan wants to be a nurse. “Ivan the nursing student seemed like a decent guy but he missed my freaking vein twice and I fired him. He kept apologizing so I asked him to get me a cup of ice just so he’d leave the room.
After successfully poking the IV into a fresh vein, the real nurse gave me my cholesterol report, my arteries were in great shape! And then it was lunch time.
When they rolled my tray in I almost choked. I swear to you, the hospital served me a heaping pile of fried chicken, french fries, a bathtub full of gravy, cheese cake and a soda pop. No fruit, no veggies, no juice, just a massive pile of fried stuff. I started texting my children immediately because I won’t serve fried food at home. I could hear them chanting from across the country, “Eat it, eat it.”
Why not, I was in the hospital, they could ream out my artieries after lunch.
So bloggers, if you are running short of material, take a field trip to the hospital. Talk to Ivan the chubby nursing student, eat some gravy and you’ll feel better in the morning.
Her husband jokingly put two jock straps on and pranced around the house… and guess what…the sports bra was born. Thank you Liza Lindahl.
If you don’t have big boobs or the desire to do anything physical the invention of the sports bra won’t mean much to you. But if you are a woman who ever hoped to do anything other than knit and watch tv the invention of the sports bra is as important as microwaves and dental floss.
Life before the sports bra was miserable. I remember playing tennis when I was 12 or 13, before the invention of the sports bra. My coach started calling me “Boom Boom” so I quite the team. There simply wasn’t a place in sports for women in the sporting world if they wore anything large than a B cup bra.
But now, because of Lisa and the sports bra, we can all embrace our inner jock. We can run, kick, and hurdle our way into shape without the fear of the dreaded boob bounce. If you decided to toast this remarkable woman, make sure it’s with a well supported cup.
Tags: boob history, sports bra
My lip gloss is cool
My lipgloss is poppin’
Your lookin’ at my lips
while your butt I’m stompin’.
You’re hittin on my girls
and you won’t back down.
It’s gettin’ on my nerves
So your face I’ll pound.
Since I was three years old
my mom took me to a class
said I’d be safer
but I just laughed.
Well, I guess she was right
and today’s the day
I’m gonna lay you out cold
for gettin in my way.
I’m not just a punk
or kid on the street
I paid my money
to learn this technique
Kickin’ and punchin’
it’s a skill and art
Watcha mean we’re through?
This is just the start.
Learn to be respectful,
make it your hobby
Before you go and tell me
I’m hot like wasabi
Tags: taekwondo rap
You are saying, “Woman, are you out of your mind?”
Before you stop reading , let me state my case and define dating. I don’t think you should allow your 13 year old to jump in a Chevy van with shag carpet and drive off with a 16 year old boy.
You should however let your 12 year old have a “boyfriend” And here’s what they will do.
1. Talk at school ,
2. Text and chat
3.On the weekends you might take the boy with you to eat pizza or go to the mall. And if you are pretty trusting you might allow them to go to the skating rink or bowling alley, alone, during the day for an hour and a half. While they are skating they might hold hands, they will hug and they might kiss But not much more will happen because they are in a bowling alley waiting for you to return.. And while all this talking and hand holding hands is going on your daughter, will learn so many valuable first boy lessons. And after two or three weeks they will break up.
As a result of the breakup the most important lesson your daughter will learn is….there are lots of boys in the world so breaking up isn’t such a big deal.
My youngest daughter, Lexie knows a lot about guys even thought she’s only 14. She knows how to break up with a guy in person and in a nice way. She knows guys don’t like girls who get crazy obsessed. They like girls with a life, interests and self esteem.
And she knows you shouldn’t have to choose between friends and boy friends and if a guy really likes you he will always want what’s best for you. If he’s an actual good guy he won’t ask or demand that you to quite things you love like the band, volleyball or the Renisaiance poety club.
My oldest daughter, Mary, never had a boyfriend in Jr. High or High School. She was the perfect daughter and perfect student, but we discouraged the entire idea of boys. Then, when she was 18 years old and had a full scholarship to a university in St. Louis, Mary fell in love with Billy the semi-pro hockey player who’s e-mail address was “toker69”.
Because Mary hadn’t learned any boy lessons earlier so she fell for “toker69”: like a 12 year old girl, she fell like Romeo and Juliet. And she announced, as I placed the Thanksgiving turkey on the table, that she was leaving school for a year to be with the stoned hockey player She used all the classic first love lines like, “Nobody understands us.” “We’ll prove everyone wrong.”. “I’ll never love anyone else. It was so gross.
Mary didn’t’ want to hurt me or our family, her heart was just in charge and she didn’t have any prior love experience.. Unfortunately, because she was eighteen I couldn’t save her. I could cry and beg and holler, but in the end, that’s all I could do.
Mary’s pre-teen heart was completely overriding her magnificent, full scholarship, med-school brain.
It’s a messy and complicated story, and I’ll tell you Mary is great now so you don’t have to worry.. She dumped “toker69” after 9 months, got back into school and is much much wiser now. But here’s what I believe, If Mary had dated in high school she wouldn’t have been hopelessly naive about young men and love.
If she had dated a boy when she was thirteen, If I let her hang out at the bowling alley with her 115 pound 8th grade boy friend, Mary would have learned that boys rarely respect girls who give up their independence.
She would have learned that boys, will sometimes say anything to make you love them.
She would have learned that lots of boys are going to fall in love with her . So she didn’t have to say yes to the first one.
And here’s the real kicker, it doesn’t matter if you “forbid” your daughter to have a boyfriend. If she likes a cute guy with swoopyhair and he likes her she will have a boy friend. You just won’t know about it. And every time you drop her off at the movies or the bowling ally with a couple of girls, the boy will be waiting for her. And they will hold hands and kiss and she just won’t tell you about it.
Think of boyfriends like cars. You wouldn’t let you daughter jump behind the wheel, all alone, the second she got her license. No, you spend two years driving around with her while she’s got a permit. You help her practice, you explain the rules of the road and help her look for danger. Dating and boys and cars are all just the same.
You can’t stop love. Especially young stupid true love.
What’s better…. knowing who the boy is, talking to him, and counseling your child or being in the dark and having your daughter keep secrets from you.
So, do yourself a favor. Let her have a boyfriend while you can control the situation, if she wants one. But make sure he’s the one that asks her out. Girls should not do the asking . And he can’t text it the question. If he wants to ask her out he needs to do it in person. And no matter what, when she’s got something to talk about, make sure you listen.
(this is reprint number #2, by request)
My problem right now is….I Don’t Have Any Goals. And that’s pretty tragic. I’m a great believer in setting goals, actually writing them down, then trying to get there. It doesn’t matter if your goal is simple like ‘vacum the house once a week”, or run a mile in less than 10 minutes, or if it’s deeper and more long terms like “Be a Better friend and Talk To God Every Day.”
You have to have goals to be happy, otherwise, you never know where you are going in life. When I leave the house in my car I generally know where I’m going.
But right now I’m just floating miserably. I don’t have any goals. I just exist and get through each day. It stinks.
Here’s what I do know about goals. According to most studies only 15 percent of Americans have set goals. The rest of us are just floating like jellyfish. And of those 15 percent only five percent of us write our goals down. Here’s the kicker. If you write your goals down, (lose ten pounds, learn to make cornbread, pay off my credit card debt) you are almost 200% more likely to achieve success.
So…don’t be a jelly fish, write down your goals, know what you are aiming for and have a good day.
Comments OffTags: goal setting, goals
(I’ve been asked to reprint two blogs so here’s the first)
Please, stop being mean to your kids in public. I don’t care if you’re a redneck in Wal-Mart or picking up an espresso in Starbucks. You look and sound like a witch when you are rude or snarky to your own kids in public.
they are kids, they are supposed to ask a lot of bizarre questions, fidget and touch stuff. (Once Mary’s dad said, “stop touching all the buildings”, so, who sounded like an ass, Mary or Mary’s dad?
Seriously, do you think anyone wants to invite you over for a beer or a spin class when you treat your child with absolute disdain in public? Do you think the cute guy with tight little sideburns wants to spend any time with a woman who is mean to her kids. Here’s what he’s thinking, ‘if she’s mean to her kids she’ll probably be mean to me too”.
And consider this, when you are mean, tense, snarky or short with your child, I’m pretty sure, you look about ten years older than you are. It’s true.
If you have teenagers, don’t be the lazy ass parent who never wants to drive the kids anywhere. It’s not fair to your teenager and it’s not fair to the other parents. Ok, you’re gonna miss the rerun of CSI if you take three girls to the bowling ally. So what? Get off the freaking couch and deal with it so your kids not ashamed by your selfishness.
Don’t yell at them, don’t roll your eyes and hiss at them, don’t swat them on the back of the head or I’m going to become part of the situation.
Ok, so you’re busy texting and talking and trying to decide what shade of hose you really need. Yeah, that stuffs pretty important, but don’t act like a spoiled thirteen year old when your child interrupts because he really has to go to the bathroom.
Smile, for God’s sake. He needs you. And don’t make the “I’m such a martyr” sigh, The one you make so all the world knows you are overworked and exhausted. Lot’s of moms seem to specialize in that noise. Cut it out.
Don’t spank a crying child and expect him to stop crying. She’s going to cry more if you hurt her. And again, you’re making your self look bad and everyone standing close to you is thinking that poor kid has such horrible, mean, stupid parents.
And finally, if your child wants to hold hands, don’t grab them by the wrist. People who do that are ignorant morons. Hold that little hand.
So, it’s your choice, you can be nice to your children and look like a cool mom or you can be a bitch and everyone will recognize you for exactly what you are.
Here’s how it started. While I was brushing my teeth this morning Lexie popped in the bathroom with a tiny black skirt, thick leapord print belt, white top and mis matched socks.
“Cuuut,” I mumbled through my foaming toothpaste.
After spitting and rinsing I added, “You should wear the black boots.”
She made a face and shook her head, “Too slutty” she whispered, because Sandor was close by.
Too late, Sandor looked at us both, “What’s slutty?”
“Can I say slutty?”
I shook my head, “Better not.”
“Are you slutty?”
“Stop saying that word!”
He laughed and ran off to look for his backpack.
Lexie found some tamer boots and I realiezed my “slutty radar” is off when I’m looking at my own kid. I thought the super short skirt (she had spandex underneath) and the tall black boots would look excellent but she knew better. She knew she would be crossing the invisible trashy line in the sand, even if I thought she looked really cute.
So parents, sometimes we just need to trust our children, we need to have faith that we brought them up well enough and they know what’s appropriate and what’s not. It’s a good thing Lex knows what looks slutty cause apparently Sandor and I don’t have a clue.
Sometimes kids are grumpy in the morning, hell, who isn’t. Why? Well, they don’t want to wake up and start working, who does? Burrowing under the warm covers like a mole hiding from the blazing sunlight seems like a much better.
But here’s something that generally makes Sandor, who is a pretty typical eight year old, feel a little better in the mornings. We don’t talk about school, we talk about the good stuff that will happen after school. I give him a couple of choices for dinner, “What do we want tonight, spaghetti tacos or pork chops and apple sauce.” Making decisions makes him feel powerful.
Then I let him decide what game we’ll play. Today he had four choices, Uno, Five Card Stud, Trouble or Pictionary. He picked the last. “Ok, what prize does the winner get?” I asked. He thought about it, “Twenty bucks!”
“Wrong,’ I buzzed.
“How about two back rubs, one from me and somebody else.”
“Fair enough” I said, and my mission had been accomplished. He was friendlier and looking forward to the day.
I promise you I am not one of those moms who sits for hours playing board games or inventing craft projects. That’s not me at all, infact we generally play “Diana’s Super Short Version” most of the time. That means ever roll of the dice is doubled. And that knocks the playing time in half , but still give us a little silly time together.
So, next time you want to cheer your kid up in the morning let him make some decisions. I promise it works better than a Happy Meal and it teaches him to make up his mind. Nobody likes an indecisive 8 year old.
Tags: decision making, kids, mornings