"Twas the day after New Year's

‘Twas the day after New Year’s and all through our hovel,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a squarrel..

My clothing was flung in my room here and there,

In the hope that some person who cleans would appear.

 

We grownups were settled all snug in our beds

While visions of Moscow Mules danced in our heads.

When out on the porch, there arose such a ruckus.

I sprang out of bed to see what the fuck was.

When what in my aching head should appear,

But a scene from the evening that happened last year.

 

With a wipe of my eyes and a shake of my head,

I knew I was seeing what soon I would dread.

I saw people and bottles and glasses and such

Who were acting like people who drank way too much.

Singing and dancing and acting quite smashed,

'Twas then that I realized a cell phone had flashed.

One person was sober and thought twould be fun,

To record all the merriment for Year's end was done.

 I realized what happened and thought “oh hell no”

And  ran off to the computer,  'cause I just had to know.

Yes!  There on the screen ‘twere the pix that he took.

Our pictures were posted for ALL on Facebook.

 
 

I GUESS I MUST BE A CHARITY, BECAUSE THE CHARITIES KEEP SENDING ME THINGS.

     A few week ago I wrote a post about checking out the charities we give to.
I still haven't done it because I've been very busy [you can read that as a little lazy].

Some of the crap I threw out in the past three days.

    I mentioned in that article how I used to love to wait for the mail, hoping there would be a letter or something nice for me. It became a habit, so that when I had grown up and received mail of my own, I'd bring it in and open it right away.

    That persisted for many years since I was now an adult and there were bills, bank notices, [Shame on you. Not overdue notices if that's what you're thinking.I've never been late on a bill in my life], and magazines. Oh, and Macy's and Bloomingdale's would send catalogs that would have coupons. I like catalogs. They have merchandise which is left to my choice if I want to buy something. Opening the mail was just part of my daily routine.

   When I got older and started to make more money, I started to support some charities. It was a limited number as was my "extra" cash.

   *AD   When I was younger, the requests were addressed to supporter or friend.  The advent of computers changed that. And so I had a flashback  of when the envelopes and the letter inside had my actual name on it. Back then, that was unusual and it was a big deal. That was like a huge "wow".  It may sound retarded, but it really changed so much. Only we didn't know what was in store for us, not yet.

     Getting appeal letters just seemed like part of the natural order. The March of Dimes and a couple of others causes would always send their appeals to everyone. I can't remember but I think Easter Seals were a March of Dimes thing. I was little enough to like to play with them and pretend they were stamps.

    HISTORY OF ME AND SNAIL MAIL WHICH YOU WON'T FIND IN WIKI 

      I have no idea when it changed. Most likely, like all things, it was slow enough for me not to notice and over a period of time, it too became the norm.

     Still, I'd bring the mail in everyday and open it, organize it and be done. I had friends who would just throw it in a bowl on a table and I couldn't understand how they could do that. Like, what if you needed to pay a bill? What if they cancelled your insurance?  What if you got a check? Nope. I couldn't do it.  I was too compulsive and couldn't have looked at a stack of mail without anxiety.

      Now, most of us pay by  automatic transfers or some electronic method that doesn't require a snail bill. And going with the times, for the first time in my adult life I didn't send out snail Holiday Cards . Unless I received one which is what I'm sure many people did to me for many years.  I did send out ecards to people whose addresses I had.

     It's like there's a new me. Which of course comes with a side of annoyed. The mail I receive, is now either, political, catalog, bank crap, requests for me to open accounts, scare mail about Medicare and requests from charities.

     I just actually had three or four days of mail piled up on the kitchen counter because what I now do, is look through the stack when it comes in and take out whatever needs opening and toss the rest down. I'm not proud. As you can see in the first picture, I get stacks. My husband has me do all the correspondence  and charity payments. This way his name isn't on the lists. Even magazines. Man, he knew what he was doing. Sucker punch to the left.

          THE REAL ISSUE

   I believe in giving. Yes, it's also a nice tax deduction which is why it's on my mind this time of year.

   My problem is, (LOL. As if I have only one problem. That could keep me laughing for hours.)  that if they are so in need of money, why do they keep sending me stuff I don't need or want that has to cost them money?

   I don't want to mention which charities I give to. Not that it matters. If I gave once, they're still sending me this garbage. I assume that all charities send pretty much the same stuff, so I'm making a list but I won't be checking it twice.


     LIST OF GIFTS I GET FROM CHARITIES

cards

• calendars                
• date planners
• a nickel
• 11 cents
• a dollar bill
• checks for small amounts
• a stamp
• religious medals
• photos of children
• beads
• bookmarks
• skimpy blankets                   

  

  calendars

• baby's socks
• dream catchers
• calculators
• pens
• certificates of membership
• membership cards
• holiday cards
• cards for all occasions
• seals
• address labels.
• note pads, some personalized 

     I think I get over a dozen calendars and I can't even give them away because everyone else gets them too.
     I do use one of the date planners, but what do I do with the rest?
     I like to buy my own address labels. Although I don't need to anymore. I have enough labels to last several life times.  Some are just my first name, some say Doctor, some say ms.  My favorite labels are addressed as Mr.
      I love typos. I'm doing to do a post on them as soon as I can gather enough to make one.      

       HOW MUCH SNAIL MAIL DO I SEND ANYMORE?

             and how many checks do I even write?

     I understand that a charity needs to be run well if it is to bring in money. And since the economy went south, do did donations. Still, isn't the money supposed to help the people, or the research for the disease? Or have more access to weapons?  { I put that in because I don't know if there is an NRA charity, but I would assume that any cause needs cash} And wouldn't you assume that the more money that was spent on the goal of the charity, the better it would be for the actual recipients and researchers?

     So, who's getting money and who's losing it?

    By my count, of course, the people who are supposed to receive the money are at the head of the list on the loss column. Next are the businesses who are losing money because people are no longer buying Christmas cards or other cards, or address labels because they get them for free. I know. I get them from friends and have used them. What can I say? The dogs are soooo cute.   I suppose in general I could refer to it as the small companies in the printing industry, if such a thing still exists. And the letter carriers who have to bring them to our houses.  And let's not forget about our trees. Those poor trees are being destroyed so I can just look at a thick envelope and throw the whole kit and caboodle in the trash. Or more accurately, the paper recycle bin.



   Who's making out on the credit side?  The people the charities contract from, to buy these cheap items, the people who make them and the people who run the organizations. Even the advertising agencies that work for the ones who can afford to advertise.  I suppose the post office may benefit except that charities pay a reduced rate so they get a bargain, sending me junk.

         WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD?

   Everything has become a competition for our money. How is it that the corporations don't realize that we have limited resources? They still set their expectations as if we don't?
                                              
  *AD   My step daughter manages a store that is part of a chain. She is given a goal every month that is always higher than the one from last year. It's like the businesses don't believe that we, the people, can't keep spending the way we did. Not in this economy. However, if she doesn't make her goal, she can get into trouble. People actually lose their jobs when they don't meet expectations that are not based in reality. [She works so hard and get's results. I'm very proud of her]

      BACK TO WHAT'S WRONG.

    It appears that everyone has lost sight of what this nation is supposed to be about.  When did it become fashionable to bribe or guilt people into giving their money away?  Actually, that was probably always true. It's one of those things I deny so I don't have to always be cynical.

    The appeal letters ask if you received their gift, and you're supposed to feel guilty if you don't send them money to cover their expenses.  Guilt is big in my culture. I have to admit that there was a time it worked. Not any more. I didn't ask for this crap so I don't have to pay for it.


    THE STRAW THAT BROKE MY BACK

    For some reason, I liked the Wounded Warriors and used to send them money. Usually I try to choose one charity for each category I think I warrants my  support. You know, like Veterans, Animals, Diseases, People, or the Arts. Whatever.  Several months ago I saw an article online about how Wounded Warrior was suing other charities that were using similar logos of soldiers' carrying the wounded. I didn't want to believe this, so  I researched it because it had me upset. These smaller charities were being set upon by lawyers, (oops forgot about them being on the plus side of the list,) and these little guys had to defend themselves, and if they lost, 

everyone wants to be king.

had to give money to the bigger charity.

    That turned my stomach inside out. A wounded soldier, regardless of which charity he receives it from, deserves to receive whatever money or services are offered. What difference does it make if it's charity A or B? Instead, they take the money away from the soldier because they want the credit.


   It's hard to think of a theory when you're really pissed.  For the Warrior charity it felt like someone's ego was threatened.  He/They want to be the one people recognize and give to.  However, although it may be true, the CEO has probably got his job on the on the line to meet projections. The Board of Directors or Trustees would be the ones in charge. At least that's what I suppose.

   Thank the Lord I never had to work for a corporation. Since that's the case, I don't know first hand how they work.

   Not knowing something never stopped me before, and it won't stop me now.

   Corporate greed. In charitable organizations. That should be an oxymoron. I'll just call it moronic.

  And sad. Very sad. I wonder if they realize that they may be turning people off with this new approach? I sure hope so because I got an appeal that said on the envelope, something like this "no gifts or crap inside."  I opened it. I don't remember which charity it was. I may have sent them money because I was happy they didn't send me something. Or not. I'm just a "hater" at the moment.

  This post has more of a moral than a theory.  Keep it simple. If you want money from me, don't try to razzle dazzle me. Don't spend money on anything but the bare bones to keep your work going. Spend the money on the poor, the wounded the sick.Tell me the truth.  I most likely will open the envelope and send you more money. Isn't that what you want?

WOULD YOU WEAR ANY OF THESE? from the I'm feeling silly and ridiculous collection.

   I may have a wild and crazy side, but in some ways, I am actually conservative.  That's why I'd like to know if you would wear these. And what you think of the outbreak in tee shirts that are really insulting.







Let's let everyone know we're better than they are,

              the topic

    When shopping, I see tee shirts that I like. No, I don't like them, but they make me laugh or think of someone I think might like the one I'm laughing at. The problem is, well they are often not nice. Again, no, I mean what they say on them isn't nice.

    I only bought one, once, wait, no, come to think of it, I bought two. (I'm underestimating  {lying}  since I had some actually made to order  [Jewish humor but those don't count,]  and I still feel silly wearing them so I hardly do). 
I only had the nerve to wear one of them twice. It was the one that reads : "Let's not waste time and assume I'm right". Honestly, I was embarrassed, even though I used to think it was true.  I did love wearing the "I'm no rocket surgeon" tee. Just to see if anyone noticed. Most didn't.


   I get lots of catalogs in my snail mail.  For some reason they seem to have this type of tee in them. I wanted to share the ones that were funny, or mean or insulting. The problem was how?  Whatever it would be would entail a lot of work. Either tedious, or something I didn't know how to do. 

I gave it a lot of thought. Then did some trial and error runs. Nothing I wanted to do worked.

Therefore, I decided to use a picture I already had on the computer. One  that I could write over.  I couldn't find a tee shirt or any shirt pic that would work and I didn't have the time to go through all of them.  Especially since I have thousands of photos. Pretend you're surprised.

That is why you will be seeing all of these  pix of Queen Mary the First, sporting an assortment of sayings. By the by, this is a copy of a painting I did to try to learn acrylic technique. Yes, I sometimes paint but that is, as they say, another story.

    HERE IS THE FIRST OF MANY, BUT THERE'S MORE TEXT. JUST WANTED TO GIVE YOU A BREAK FROM READING.




And Hereeeeeeeees, Mary!

 

It may look like a lot, but since you only have to read a word here and there, it shouldn't be too much work, or time. I tried to group them into categories but couldn't. The only easy one to recognize was those comprised of insults.  Others were more all over the place.
 
 
 
 
  Perfectionist that I am thought I'd have to redo this when I'm not in a fog or can figure it out. Upon reflection I realized that this was not going to happen in this lifetime, so I may have to reincarnate for that to happen. I decided to post them "as is".

I'm sure I won't be back as Dr. G. No matter how much in demand I was.

I hope you enjoy them. I also will put in some pix of actual tees at the end.



What's wrong with this picture?







Everything in statistics is based on probability.  So you can't say for sure and when I was 14 my mother had me tested.

stupid is as stupid does. I believe that's a quote from Forrest Gump's Mom.

And where would you wear this?
or ware would you where this?
or wear would you where this? And Y would you wear this?

Ah, A women with a degree, In shopping.  Third degree BURN.

Another poke at women. Ahem. Men like to poke women.

Recognize the top one? I knew I'd seen and hear that, just didn't know where.

These to me are funny because they use words and word play and don't hurt anyone.

This got me to thinking about humor. What's funny, to whom and why?

Theory of Humor. Before I look it up. And, I'm not going to. That's your homework assignment. Let me know what you find. Probably not that much. At least in psychology. It wasn't a topic of study for a long time. Maybe it is now.

I have mentioned before that when I start to write my blog,I have no idea where I'm going. This is yet another example of what happens. My mind starts to wander as I edit and write, and I just follow it where it goes. *AD

At first blush, the two kinds of humor that jump out at me are self-deprecating, or making fun of others. It's the old two sided coin. Suicide and homicide are both acts of hostility, it just depends on who it ultimately points at.

Most people have a sense of humor. That appears to be a universal trait that people all over the planet share. What is different is what makes them laugh.  Since I only know what I'll call European/American humor I won't stray from that. Actually, I'd best keep it to humor in English because I'm not sure I'd understand Russian humor even if I understood Russian. Even British humor is different.  From what I gather, sometimes the punchline is in the middle. Between that and their accents, we miss it.

Back to topic. It seems that watching other people in distress, misery or misfortune makes us laugh. It seems very wrong, but I think it's because we are secretly happy that it isn't us.

Another way to do that, is to turn it against oneself. That way, you're not offending someone else. Unless of course, you are wearing a tee shirt telling them they are stupid.

It's really not so bad, because most people will assume that it's someone else you're referring to because who among us can admit we are stupid? And how do you know if you're stupid? Are you too stupid to know you are? Ah. Very philosophical.

However, this is a word that gets tossed around by children all too frequently. Not philosophically you idiot. Stupid. Hmmm.   It's the best defense to say someone else is dumb so you don't have to believe it's you. Although if you're calling other people that, you probably have been called it yourself. By friends and family, fellow students and the occasional teacher. And when you're little, you believe them.

A Digression. I was 18 and had just started college. I had always had trouble with math since we hit fractions. I managed to pass but my brain does not work on the side that does math.

Thankfully, I only had to take one math course at that time. It was called Logic. I still don't understand why. I've always thought of myself as a logical person, but apparently, I'm wrong. 
I can still see my teacher. I'll call him Mr. Grey. Because he was very pale of face, and wore only white starched shirts, dark grey suits and dark ties with black glasses covering pale eyes.  His first name was definitely not Christian.

Anyhow, I was really struggling. I sat right in the front row in the middle so I could focus on what he was teaching. I was trying hard.
It may have been the mid term or just a test, but I got a 56 or something in that range.
After the test, I raised my hand to ask a question. I said that "I didn't understand what he just said, could he please explain it again." His response began with "judging by what you got on the last test you don't understand anything".   

I was mortified. If I had been sitting near the door I would have run out. I think if I were by the window, I would have exited that way. Being right up front left me no one to go.
I just sat there and felt humiliated and probably had turned red even though I'm not a blusher. If I had been five years older I would have probably given him a piece of my mind.
 I have always remember that moment and how I felt. I taught briefly when I got out of school, and then for 6 years at the college level. I never, ever did anything like that to any student. I hope I was as careful with my friends.


BACK FROM A DIGRESSION


I am going to therefore conclude that in this country we have an epidemic of people who believe they are stupid and are projecting it onto everyone else. 
Projection is a psychological term. I will explain. Whether it's logical or not, I obviously won't know.
 Think of when you go to the movies. The film you're watching on screen is being projected from the machine  (projector) with the images. The machine has the images but transfers them onto the screen letting you identify what you see as yours.

People do the same thing. Let's say, you're feeling a little fat. You do not like the feeling. so instead of thinking, "am I getting fat? " you'll start to notice that your friend is getting fat or so and so gained weight and suddenly the world is filled with fat people, except you. There is probably a much easier way to explain this, but if you're looking for easy, you've come to the wrong blog.

BACK TO HUMOR

There are many different types of humor. Slap stick, dark, (I'm being PC so I didn't say black because it's not about race, it's about feelings), sick, sarcastic, off color, down right filthy, hateful, racial, male bashing, dumb blondes and I can't think of any more at the moment. You can fill in the blanks. And if your comment section works, you can actually tell me what I missed.

Sometimes I start out to write a light piece that is funny. Why is it, that I always find something that makes me start to take a serious look at, well, everything?

My shrink and husband are always telling me to lighten up. So I powdered my face with a very light shade of pale. I don't think that counts. If I'd lost ten pounds, would that have counted? Maybe I'm literal and not logical. oy. too much to ponder.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the jokes. And, maybe learned something too.

If it were up to me, I'm make sure that teachers all taught with a sense of lightness and humor that made their students enjoy learning. Maybe then we wouldn't all feel so damned     STUPID!

THE WORST CASE OF SIBLING RIVALRY SINCE CAIN AND ABEL

brothers



 This is from my own family history, but I'm going to try not to take sides. Which of course when you've been brainwashed since birth, is a really, really hard thing to do.
   I shall try.


   Some years back, over in the Old Country I had a great, great, great etc. Grandfather. It was during one of those odd periods of history where my family had more than two nickels to rub together and had a very nice house.  As was usual for the time, they had a live-in maid who was of course, younger and prettier than grandma.( *AD We never learn do we?)

   It's not exactly what you're thinking. Our grandparents wanted a family and had been trying unsuccessfully for a few years. No luck.  There was no in vitro, no surrogacy or adoption at the time and they were very sad.  Grandpa because he would have no one to leave the house and the business and grandma because she felt guilty that she was the reason.

   Grandma made a decision. It turned out to be not so smart, but who among us can say we haven't made some dumb decisions ourselves?

   She told Grandpa he could screw the maid and if she got pregnant, he would get his heir. Yeah, like if your wife gave you permission to have the maid you'd say, nah, it's not right. We'll be fine.

   So Gramps and the maid starting doing it and, apparently it was Grandma's problem because the maid got knocked up.  I wasn't there, but I'm guessing it was killing Gram's on the inside, but she started it.

   Grandpa doted on the boy. He was also very nice to said maid.  Grandma bit her lips, mostly and then, a miracle happened. Maybe ten, twelve years later, even though Grandma was little long in the tooth, she too had a son.

    Think about our blended families of today. Some people can work it out, and others can't. They lived together in the house for a couple of years, but it was really, really getting to the women.

    Grandpa didn't know what the hell to do. He loved both his boys. He loved his wife. I'm not sure about his feelings for the maid, but she was the mother of one of his children.

    Did you hear the one about the  two women, one man and two boys, asked the patron sitting at the bar?  It's beginning to sound like one of those stories.

   The wife finally gave grandpa an ultimatum. She wanted them out and gone. Those of you with wives know how this ends. The other pair were sent packing with regret.

    They left the area and of course were really pissed. The boy missed his dad and maybe even his brother. The  mother moved so she could start fresh elsewhere, but she and her son now carried hate in their hearts. Who could blame them? Promised something and not getting it? I suppose the mother should have been grateful to have a son, but they had nothing else so I guess she couldn't see the up side.



It of course was bigger, and has seen better days.

   Things back at the house, well, it had been a place that now symbolized something bad and sad.  Grampa couldn't bring himself to sell it, but knew the family had to move. He got a lawyer, or whatever they were called back then, to hold the property and rent it out until they could decide what to do.

   Each little family unit went their separate way, but when you've got beef with someone, you manage to know how and where they are.


    Grandma and then Grandpa died. While they were alive, the house was rented out to tenants who didn't take great care of it. It became part of the estate which was then contested by the two sons. They had their own families now, with their own kids and other relatives. Resentment festered so they wouldn't even go into the same room. Don't even think about them entering the house at the same time. They refused to listen to reason.

   They both felt entitled, and I can see why, assuming the story is true. The problem one son had was that his mother and father hadn't married. That made a difference.

    However, the older son claimed the rights of the elder son, which also mattered back then. And so, they did what their parents had done. They left it in the hands of some realtors and left it to be rented. It was barely self sustaining by this time, so they didn't have to fight over profit or loss. They didn't have to have any contact which was fine with them.

   Again, they disengaged and left to make their own families and their way in the world.  They left but the tale and hate remained.

   This story has been passed down for generations. Talk about forgive and forget!  Not my peeps.

on the road

    As happens over generations the children chose paths in life.  My  side of the family was big on reading and education. Some of us had a knack at business.  We've produced a lot of people with knowledge.
 My cousins, were more into business, particularly real estate and man did they make some killings.

   Now comes the really shitty part of the tale. We still can't sit down and talk. About seventy five years ago, one of the people watching the old house made a plan. He drew up a diagram with blueprints and everything so the house could be divided equally and anyone from the family could come back to live there if they wanted.  Divided, but a little separate.

   From what I hear, my side, although not happy, but said alright. It's not perfect, but it's better than the way things are. The other side said no way. It's our house and we'll kill anyone of you who steps inside it. Oh boy. That caused quite a furor. Some of my cousins went back on principle to live in the house. Like just do it.  Most people don't like being told what to do. My family isn't the exception.

   The other side, had their cousins who were nearby, who also tried to move in. That's when War broke out. 

    And since it's by not the age of media our story went public. Such a shame on us all.  So many dead. So much hate because long ago, a papa and a couple of other people made a poor decision.

    The part I'm unclear on is why people take the other families side. Well, I know why they do since the oil was produced, but why before that?

     I know, if you're a little different, people are afraid of you. And we were, and maybe are a little different. Still.

     If you haven't come to the conclusion of who we are, we are the Semites who lived in the ancient lands of Judea and Samaria.  The deserts of Canaan.  And all over the middle east. Our cousins stayed around there longer than we did for the most part. We traveled a lot.  Okay. It wasn't by choice but we did it and usually landed on our feet until someone took the earth out from under them again.


    We became known as the wandering Jews.  Our cousins became known as Muslims.  (If I get any of this wrong, please excuse me. I'm not in the mood to do any research on this. Not now. Not anymore. It doesn't seem to make a difference.)


     So Isaac and Ishmael were the bothers. Okay half brothers. In many families that

Peace Be With Us All

doesn't matter.

     This is where I believe the divide began. It's not about the land of Israel or Palestine. It's about who dad loved more.
       Maybe Israel has and takes the "higher" ground because Abraham was married to Sarah.  I don't know. I do know  the family found out what it's like to be mistreated.

       I'm not clear on how far back this old would opened and festered.  There was a time when Jews were welcome in Babylon and were pillars of society. The Muslims and Jews weren't always enemies. What happened?

     Maybe, somewhere in history, a shit stirrer picked up on this tale of two brothers  and has used it to wreak havoc ever since.

       I'm so tired of it all. I've lived in Israel and therefore am having an impossible time being impartial at current events. I wish I had some way of helping and healing. Stopping the insanity. It really is insane. It's not like we're fighting over the oil. The people who are called Palestinians weren't any luckier than we when it came to finding rich land. Hagar and Ishmael settled in Egypt from what I can recall. We're fighting over the crumbling house we all once lived in and still believe we are meant to maintain this property. There are good people and bad people on both sides of the family.  Just like any other family.

    Maybe instead of diplomats and politicians, we could try sending in some family therapists?




The End

   

Hi. I'd like that in a size..........?

  *AD     When did you notice that you started to say things your parents used to?  They said it with words like "back in my day".  At some point in time I realized that I too was comparing old prices with new, old behaviors with new ones and realizing that I too had crossed into that great divide. I'm not sure if it's a divide of generations, or just age, but it happens.                                   

I was so excited. Those shorts were a size 4.

     I remember shopping for clothing and shoes when I was in my twenties. Not that I had much money or wore much other than jeans, so maybe I noticed it in when I was in my thirties or forties.
   
    Back then, even in department stores they had women on the floor who were there to help, (read as sell, but still) you to find what you were looking for.  I'm not saying that doesn't exist anymore, but more often than not the workers on the floor are busy with stock and are generally there to help you find the section of items you're looking for.

   That brings me to my title question. I no longer have any idea what size I am, so even if a salesgirl were to ask me, I don't know what to say.

   Yes, I have gone up and down the size scale over the years. Luckily, I'm in my favorite "down" place and the sizes are smaller then they were. Usually. Except it doesn't actually mean anything any more.

some of the chubby years.

   You have to have noticed that in the olden days, if you were a size 8, you would take size 8's into the dressing room. Pants, blouses, skirts, dresses but not bathing suits. For some reason they have always danced to their own music.

   Whether you liked how they looked, or what they cost, they usually fit. You knew you were a size 8. Sometimes a particular manufacturer was different, but you at least knew it they ran large or small. (*AD)  PS on the photos. I would have to shift through some thousands to find the fat ones, so I'm posting the ones I found easily.

   Shopping today is like a crap shoot.


The first thing I noticed over the years was, that even though I hadn't lost weight or inches (I'm assuming, I wasn't one to measure myself), the sizes were getting nicer. Nicer you may ask? What the hell does that mean?

  It means that if I had been buying that 8, suddenly it was big and I needed it in a size 6. Man that made me feel good. It most likely happened around the time that models became wraiths, and everyone became discontent with their bodies.

Possibly my heaviest. Hiding under the hair.

  The garment industry pulled a fast one. They changed the sizing and didn't tell anyone. Suddenly you were no longer as fat or dissatisfied. I mean, dropping a dress size makes you feel good. Especially when you didn't give up cake.

  Again, years ago I found myself very troubled by something. I was at one of my thinner selves. My mom who had always been two inches taller, bigger boned and weighed a lot more, was cleaning out her closet.  She had a very nice blue blazer that was classic and she gave it to me. It fit, although a bit snug under the arms I think. When I looked at the label I was aghast. It was a size 12. I wasn't. Maybe I was wearing an 8.  I can't recall what size, but it was one of those wake up calls that tells you that you had been hoodwinked.

  That was tough to deal with. Realizing they'd been toying with me for years. Little did I know that things were going to get worse. Much worse.

  Today, when I go shopping, I have to take in more clothes than they allow into the dressing room. An example would be: I like a pair of pants. I look at them, but can't judge if they measure similarly to some I already own. So, I could take in sizes anywhere from a 4P to an 8R and have no idea which will fit, if any.

   The same goes for tops that come in S,M,L,XL etc.  All my life, well most of it, I was a small. A few years of having porked up got me into mediums.  These days, some of the smalls fit, some are way too tight. Especially tee shirts. I don't like things that cling, so I would rather have the M if it's more comfortable. Only sometimes even the large is tight.

    I feel guilty writing this because many of my friends wear larger sizes than I do and I can't imagine how their egos feel, if I, the little one am getting annoyed. So, I'll just say I'm sorry. I'm writing this for all women, not just me.

   It's not like it was when you could feel good about being a small size and believing it was a reflection of reality. Speaking of reflections, I'll believe they buy special mirrors that shrink you, you know, like in the old fun houses. 
 
   I wonder who the hell is doing the sizing? The Chinese? The Indonesians? The Vietnamese?  Firstly, they have different body types. And maybe they hate us. Yeah, I'm sure they do. Why not? Everyone does.

   So they can monkey with us. Oh, let's make  a size 4 in this skirt and in the other style, but same label, make it a 6. That way there's not even consistency in brands.

  The good news is that you can decide what size you wear. Since you wear all of them, choose your favorite. The only problem you may have is when someone gets you a gift. You'll probably need to return it, but if you're like me, you would have anyway. (Sorry, I have very specific tastes and although many of my friends get close, it's not a game of horseshoes.)

  And my condolences for males. I hear that they are starting to monkey with you too. My husband tries on pants, no shorts, I forgot, Florida. Men don't wear pants. Shorts. He tries on shorts and different manufacturers fit and others don't.  He has a point. At least for men's' pants and shorts it's measured in inches. You're a 34 by 30 or a 40 by 36. Inches are supposed to be standard right?  So how is it that the 36 from Ralph Lauren isn't the same as Nautica, or Columbia or no name?  When did inches become arbitrary? They can't do that. It's a standard measure.

Men, if you're reading this, it will perhaps give you an idea of why it take us women so long to find something in the store.  We have to try on 6 of the same thing just to find our size. And only in that particular thing. Multiply that by the number of items we need and it's a six or seven hour ordeal.

   My theory, well you heard part of it. It's a conspiracy by the people sewing them to make us crazy, so when they take over we'll all be in TJ Maxx, cursing in the dressing room and won't even notice that our government has changed hands.

   Or maybe it's that no one gives a crap any more. Cut it so you use the least amount of fabric so you can sell it for the cheapest price. And do it fast. Time is money.

  Take you pick. Choose your own theory. I'd ask you to tell me about it but I still haven't had the patience to work on the comment situation.

Halloween and I don't know the size. I just like the photo.

It's my blog and I'll do what I do want to do what I want to do what I want to. You would do it to if it happened to you.    [name that tune]

THE SIMPLE JOY OF IRONING

  I can't tell you how full of joy I was when I finished my last post. I'm not sure why, but I felt free. And I had so much stuff to do in the house that I had neglected.
  I started  cleaning out the linen closet which set me off into throwing stuff out and then washing all the bedding.
  There is one pillow case I have in my happy, serene room. It's yellow and it must be made of Syrian rather than Egyptian cotton 'cause it's always wrinkled.
  Long story short. LMAO.  I almost forgot to wash it.  Anyway. I did.

                     Ancient History


    Between the ages of 7 and 12, my sister and I went away to summer sleep away camp. Just now, when I was ironing the pillow cases (plural) I remembered that it was at camp that I learned to iron. And, that when I was at camp, I used to love to iron.

    I have an image of myself standing near the laundry area, and ironing.  What on earth I had to iron, I don't know. I probably volunteered to iron the camp sheets for all I can remember.

    But, right now, doing the pillow cases I liked the feeling of having something change so easily and quickly right before my eyes. A miracle.

   So much of the work that I do and have done in my life had little immediate reward. Even getting paid was so impersonal and spaced out that I couldn't associate it with work. I think you know what I mean.

   I've rarely had to iron over the years. When I worked I had my clothes dry cleaned, and living in Florida is so informal that most of my clothes don't need ironing. *AD  If I take them out of the drier right away and hang them up. I'm laughing at myself right now.

    And so, I ironed my pillow cases and one sheet. Now, I have to put the iron away when it's cool, and put away the ironing board. And as an aside, I have no idea how to set the heat. Somehow it's by color and I don't have the instructions. I'm such a Suzy Home Maker.  I still didn't finish the things I wanted to do. It's only 2:30 but I'm exhausted. That wasn't the only closet I tackled. More than half the kitchen cabinets are now free of useless items.

   The best part is I don't care.  I know. Who is this woman? Tomorrow is another day. And, my new Kindle that was supposed to arrive on Tuesday came just a few minutes ago. I wouldn't have known to check the mail box on Sunday, if my phone didn't do that waterfall music when I get a message. I'm so lucky I took that selfie or I wouldn't have heard the phone. Isn't life great when everything works out?  Or when you decide to believe that it does.