Am I Tasteless or Timeless?

I am starting to see a pattern and it appears to be telling me that I may not be as cool and hip as I thought I was. I regularly and avidly read the section of popular magazines called "who wore it better?". I always cover the answer while I study the picture with the eye of a frequent "Project Runway" and "America's Next Top Model" viewer. So you can see I am pretty well trained. I select my choice and look at the answer - 95% of the time I'm wrong. Maybe not "wrong" in my book, but "wrong" according to whatever low class people they survey to get their answers. I think that I can put myself together quite nicely, when needed. I can mix and match things in my wardrobe with items that even surprise me. But I can't seem to tell "who wore it better". That in itself didn't mean I wasn't cool.

Then I started reviewing things I bought through Amazon. I love writing comments about all of the cool things I now own. I take it very seriously but try to add a little humor to brighten people's days. I'm considerate that way. After a few weeks, I went back to my reviews to see if people gave me "helpful votes". Yes, I certainly got a few but not the big numbers I have seen on some reviews. Then I noticed that many of my cool products were no longer available. Unfortunately I don't think it was because they were so popular that they ran out of them. I think that most people just never knew they needed them. So my "anti theft strap" or as I call it now "a long plastic strap with a "thingy" on the end" and my cool folding dog dish are no more - unavailable.

Could my taste be in question or am I just ahead of the rest of the population? Am I style-innovative or style-less? Did I miss a season of "Project Accessory"? Does Amazon laugh at my purchases or are they in awe of my choices? Maybe I'm just uniquely eclectic - yeah, that's it. Come on world, catch up!

Wanderlust Dog

They say that children watch and learn everything that their parents say and do. And when I say "everything" I mean when parents say "where did they hear that word?" everything. I think my dog child is doing the same thing.

We just got back from a long trip overseas and he was a trouper. He seemed to be very excited to be home. But now when I try to walk him in our neighborhood, he drags himself around like he is on his last leg. His tail is low, he walks so slow that I have to keep turning around to be sure he hasn't fallen asleep standing up. After walking about three houses away, he stops and won't move until I call him to me. Then he does a little hop to help me pick him up and is content to finish his walk in my arms. Do you know how stupid it looks carrying a dog on his walk? I seriously thought he might be dying of something. I took him to the vet because he has the beginning of hip displasia and started talking about surgery. These walks around the block were worrying me and I was ready to say yes to the surgery - poor guy.

Then I took him with me to do a little shopping and opened the door to get him out of the car to walk in the field of the Target parking lot. I went to gently pick him up - poor guy - when he just about jumped over me to get out the door. His tail was wagging furiously, he was prancing and running every way he could within leash length. I could barely keep up with him as he headed for the field while stopping to do a few pee drops on any tree or bush we passed. After about 20 minutes, we headed back to the car. When I opened the door, he put on is doggie breaks, back on the heals of all four paws, and refused to get in the car. I think this is one of the times he hates that he is only 7 pounds because I just lift him up, stiff legs and all and settle him back into the car.

By the time we are home, he has become Mr Gloomy Dog again. I kinda understand the feeling because I get excited when we travel. I think we can put off that surgery for now and instead get out the maps. He is so much like me - is it nature or nurture?

Allergy Season

Around here, allergy season is all year. Because of that, I am constantly on the look out for allergy medication that actually works. It seems like the best drugs for allergies are hidden behind the pharmacy counter. I finally decide to try those extra special allergy boxes I can only see from a distance.

To get them, you have to show your driver's license, sign something important and watch the pharmacy tech eye you up. I know they are looking for terrorist-looking people who need these pills to build something bad. I try to look as normal as possible with my runny, downward turned eyes (looking up hurts), the heavy breathing (my lungs sound like there is a party of mice in there), messy hair ( looking in the mirror means I have to "look up" - and as I said before - that hurts!) and wrinkled day old clothes (my chest hurts too much to lift the iron).

I croak, "Another hot one, huh? Is that the largest box you can sell me? I'm just asking because I have these allergies, really." I see them look over at the phone, so I back off with the pleading look.

I choose the 42 pack of 24 hour pills and head to the car with my stash. I'm tired, I'm sick and I need my drugs. Opening the stapled bag, I read the front of the box. "Non-Drowsy Extended Relief". I guess those drug manufacturers know what they are doing. I take 2 pills and drive home.

Eighteen hours later, I am still sneezing, wheezing and runny - but I'm wide awake. At least the "non drowsy" part seems to be working. Maybe that's so we allery sufferers can make it to a 24 hour pharmacy to purchase another kind of medication. Smart folks, those drug manufacturers!

Pre-Preparation

I'm getting ready to go to Italy and take a basic class in Italian. To get prepared I am:
1. Reviewing an Italian phrase book;
2. Listening over and over to the first CD out of 5 on how to speak Italian;
3. Reviewing an Italian Immersion training; and
4. Taking a course in "Italian for Travelers".

And I still can only say about 4 words in Italian (which I would not recognize if I saw them in writing) - "where", "excuse me", "good", and "bathroom". I'm not saying that those aren't very useful words, but I find myself with performance anxiety when I actually have to use them in a real situation. That is why I need lots of pre-practice before I talk my class in Italy. I also don't want my teacher to know I had all of this training before my class because that would mean they would expect me to know something. I really think that my brain is full and I have to unlearn something before I can shove more information in.

I need to dispose of all of the tidbits of gossip I know about starlettes and hunks - except for Johnnie Depp. My brain needs to declutter from addresses and phone numbers I had when I was a kid. And there is no reason my brain should continue to hold on to names of people I dislike.

Wouldn't it be nice to just click a button on the side of your head to defrag abd clean up the brain cells to make them more efficient? I know that Italian would come easier if I could do that.

Dog Language in a Storm

We haven't had a real rain in many months - until last night. The sky began to light up like an airport runway and the thunder started rumbling/grumbling. My dog Seymour started whining, circling and periodically hitting his head on the side of my bed while trying unsuccessfully to join me. I pulled him on to the bed and pushed him under the blankets, thinking that if he doesn't see the light, he'll settle down. Nope. In the dark, I could smell his chicken jerky breath and feel his little elbows digging into my chest. I tried massage and headlocks to keep him still while thinking that I should have brushed his teeth.

I finally set him back on the floor and tried to go back to sleep. Nope. He paced, tried going under the bed, into his crate, into a secret hiding place in another room, and finally back to whining and hitting his head on the side of my bed.

If the doggie door had been left open, he would have run out and hidden in the most weed-infested part of the yard. Since it wasn't, as he stood on my chest, nose to nose and eye balls to eye balls, I finally understood that he wanted my car keys. If he couldn't escape out the doggie door, he could get to security under the car seat, if he only had my keys - and opposing fingers.

Thankfully, his new doggie tricks didn't include learning to use the car remote and I wasn't about to leave the comfort of my bed to run through the downpour so he could go to the only place he thought he would feel safe. Was I a bad doggie-mommy?

Finally, sleepless, grouchy and losing my patience, I was about to toss him my car keys when the storm let up. Seymour quietly tiptoed back to his crate to sleep. All was fine in his life again. I was awake the rest of the night. Doggie communication can be exhausting!

How To Get Along With Difficult People

I have taken more of these courses than I have fingers and toes and I still don't have all of the answers I need. Raised by a woman who was practicing to be a Jewish Mother, I have believed that any issue I have with someone else -or even any problem in the world must be my fault. Or if it's not totally my fault, I probably have one degree of separation from it.

Weinergate - was it partially because I'm addicted to perezhilton and TMZ - and always click on the picture that is blurred out to see the whole weiner - er picture.

Casey Anthony types - I should have worked harder in my Psychology Class so I could recognize people with memory problems ("So that new expanse is due to a good push-up bra?") from a full on loon?

Based on the courses I've taken, I found that I could present them, because what they call "difficult", I call "relatives".

My training would cover:
What do you do when people get mad at you and quit talking? "Be happy that you don't have to hear the stupid things they would say. Send them a Thank You card."

What about people who say mean things to you? "Look perplexed and point to your mouth and ears and start speaking gibberish and try to imitate what they are saying to you - with a gibberish accent." There is that weird disease where some people just start speaking with a foreign accent, so it could happen.

What can you do if someone is sabotaging your chance of getting a promotion by taking credit for your work? "Write the most important points of your work in code - pig latin would work. Then innocently ask her if she could read those points out loud." Even if you don't get the promotion, you will get some good belly laughs and we know that laughter is good for your health. The worst that can happen is that you will be the happiest, healthiest person in the unemployment line. Worse things could happen.

Those are the easy ones. I want a course on how to deal with people with a classified mental health problem. Those Narcissistic Personality Disorder types you have to team with who never make mistakes, need a mirrored glass as their computer screen and start every sentence with "I"? Or the bipolar-type boss who eggs you on to tell your jokes one day and puts a "Do Not Disturb - This Means You" sign on their door the next? These behaviors have not been covered in those courses - and I have re-read my notes.

I wonder if it is partially my fault that these are no course covering what I need? I'll have to ask my mother.

Another Reason to be Single

I went to a lovely memorial service for the husband of a friend. It was filled with humorous stories, songs - and a photo montage of his life. It made me think about being in a long relationship with lots of history and memories - and photos. What if the long relationship ended with my mate passing away before me?

They would go through all of our photos and pick out the best ones of him to flash on a screen to the crowd of mourners. Of course they would need to choose the pictures where he looked best, but unfortunately I guarantee those would not be the ones where I looked even presentable in public. When he looked best, I'd have my eyes 1/2 open, my tongue lolling out one side of my mouth, or my head would be angled in such a way that it would look twice it's normal size.

I take awful pictures. Sure, I'd be upset that I lost my long time partner - but I don't think that should mean that I would also have to lose my dignity through displaying my monkey faced pictures. Also, I think the mourners would find it hard to ignore the woman in the photo (me) and I'm sure the crying would turn to hysterical laughter. Staying single is my way of saving some man the embarrassment of a humorous memorial service. I'm doing my part for mankind - and getting ready to go Photoshop my own pictures - just in case.