Spoof

This is my response to comments I received about the necessity of wearing knee high boots in July.

Pass me my flip-flops, please. :-)

BUT I must confess. I actually had to seek help from the culprit of wearing said boots in order to post this youtube video.

I'm Afraid I can be this Stupid

I have a friend who is a wonderful, sarcastic, unassuming guy who is 15 years my senior. One of my favorite discussions with him went as follows:

"Erin, you know, sometimes when you speak you project some of the most insightful and intelligent ideas and I marvel at how brilliant you can be for such a young age... And then at other times, you are completely clueless to things that should be obvious."

I laughed over this, as it is true. I am a recent owner of the Blackberry Curve. When trying to link my personal email w/ my Blackberry, I stumbled typing my password. I know this is not correct to say, but I have 3 passwords that I use, and I've had them each for 10 or more years. Why is it when I was trying to sync my email, I inappropriately capitalized a letter OVER 20 TIMES! After my 5th attempt, I started keeping track. It went even so far as me going to my regular computer and being completely dumbfounded becuase I could access it on my PC.

Oh God, I'm turning into my mother. In all other accounts, that's a good thing... but not here.

I Must Be Missing a Gene

I've had an interesting week. In spite of being under heavy deadlines and stress at work, I managed to squeeze in some personal time with my friends. I firmly believe laughter can be the best therapy, but admittedly, I have left both evenings with 2 different social groups feeling slightly puzzled.

It boils down to me being a single woman; a title I relish. Several times this week when I unabashedly answered, "No, I'm not married, nor am I looking to get married in the near future," I heard, "Don't worry, the Right One will come along," or, "You just haven't found the right person yet."

Here's where I'm just going to open up and sound off....

Under what impression are you insinuating my life will not be enriched nor will I be truly blessed unless I get married? Does it look like I define myself by whether or not a ring adorns the 4th finger on my left hand? Where is it written that the successes, hopes, dreams, and happiness of my life will be determined by the cut, clarity, carat, or color of a diamond?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not anti-marriage/relationship, whatever. In fact, I'm open to the idea... But I refuse to believe if it doesn't happen for me, I'm going sit back and reflect on my time on earth and say, "Boy, my life would have been so much more fulfilling if I'd only gotten married..." And I find it condescending when people try to assure me it will happen... someday. It makes me feel they believe my life to be lacking--which then leads me down the path of feeling judged. I know it's a stretch, and perhaps this is a tender issue for me, but I don't need people to feel sorry for me. I am a happy successful woman who is blessed with wonderful friendships, 742 trump cards, and a family who is ever -present in just about every faction of my life. I know what it is to feel treasured, loved and cherished, and I know how to reciprocate. Enough said.

This brings me to my second night... Perhaps it's ME, who's not cut out for this marriage thing. I sat and listened to 2 of my friends, both of whom are married, talk about their spouses. One was a male and one a female. I understand relationships are all about compromise, but all I heard tonight was insecurity, mistrust and ultimatums... And both profess to be happily married. What was even more ironic is they sought advice from me. I was told that by remaining single, I still have every shred of rationale and logical reasoning which tends to float out the window once vows are exchanged. I laughed and dispensed the best advice I knew... COMMUNICATE... to which I received blank stares. This is inconceivable to me. I mean, you have selected this person to be your LIFE PARTNER, your sole mate... what do you mean you can't communicate? I'm sure this is inexperience here, but I thought the whole point of marriage was to have someone walk with you during your journey through life... A partner, or teammate to share in the experience. If communication fails, so does everything else, right?

My head began to hurt. I don't know if it was the several glasses of wine or the heap of contradictions being tossed on my plate. I left, thankful to be going home alone and comforted in knowing I only have to be accountable to and for myself.

And You Thought WV Was Bad...

As Noted from Central Ohio's "Alternative" News Source..

A Little Jab at the Red Sox

I have a coworker who is obsessed with the Boston Red Sox. I don't know if it's just my nature, but when I come across people who are completely steadfast and unyielding in their opinions, I attempt to find kinks in their resolve. Perhaps this is due to the fact there is very little in my life that I'm not constantly reassessing or evaluating. I feel just about anything is up for negotiation and discussion, but that's just me.

So. Manny Ramirez- I'm not going to discredit this man or his gift of being able to slug a ball. This picture is accurate. He looks like he smoked a big fattie, put on a uniform 2 sizes too big, and sauntered out to the field. His is the most nonchalant and unassuming athlete I've ever seen. Again, the man is blessed when it comes to baseball, but seriously... do you look at him and say, "Now there's a great ball player?"

Kevin Youkilis- When he's up at the plate, he looks like a maniacle lumberjack. He is so intense on the ball, it's almost like he's possessed. He would scare me in a dark alley. Seriously, anyone who looks like he does at the plate and has their name phonetically pronounced as "you-kill-us" is dangerous in my book.

I'm not even a baseball fan, but was prompted to write this b/c my coworker couldn't even concede to my opinion when I presented him with these photos. His excuse for Youkilis-- He's a Scotsman, what do you expect?

Um yeah.

A Snapshot Of My Life In Late 2005

I save the emails I've sent. Oftentimes when I sound off on an email it is an honest reflection of where I was mentally and emotionally in that instant. I save them to serve as a reminder of the ebbs and flows of my life.

I am copying an email I sent to two of my best friends from college. This email is probably one of the funniest things I've ever written and it refers largely to the beginning of my father's illness and our ability to handle it all.

It was titled: And the Punches Keep on Coming....

Hi girls.
Happy holidays.

Ang, first of all, you are a dear. I just received your gifts, I love them. I had full intentions of buying you and Ms. Kapela your own handheld electronic free cell game, however, apparently everyone at target wants one of these things, so x-mas may be in January....
-
George was able to get a leave from the hospital and spent x-mas w/ us. He is OK and improving slowly, however he has a GINORMOUS bedsore that required operating. It is currently 7 cm long, 8 cm wide and 6 1/2 cm deep. Think grapefruit... in the ass. He has a wound vacuum that is continually draining it, and this has hindered his recovery. However, he was released today and is now at home w/ a home health care person, a PT and an OT who also come to visit. Margaret's head is spinning.
-
It turns out my cat, Yiddy, is a big skank. She contracted chlamydia. How the fuck did she get that, and can I get it, and since I don't have it, how the hell did SHE get it? These were questions I asked the vet. Rest assured I'm not a risk for catching an STD from my cat...
-
Well, you all know how I love to fall, so x-mas eve wouldn't be right w/ out me stumbling over my brother's dog, his kid and him while trying to walk down the hallway. Oh and that series of pops and cracks going down the right knee, that's normal, right? And the onslaught of tears, b/c I NEVER cry, but try telling that to my now irrational mind that only feels pain! So, b/c my mother has enough stress I refused to go to the ER, and I convinced myself it was nothing. I'm pretty persuasive and was doing just a fine job "convincing" myself that my knee really wasn't THAT swollen, and I could sorta walk. I mean, I got the flu on x-mas day and stayed in bed until 12/27 so, an achy knee was not that big of a deal. Yeah, well yesterday in the ER after it had popped out of place from "walking" it suddenly became apparent to me that it might be an issue. I hear rumblings of tearing my ACL since I described the pain as "burning." BUT since my knee has swollen to the size of my ass, they can't x-ray it properly until the swelling goes down. So yours truly is now under the care of an orthopedic surgeon and a knee brace w/ some crutches and some really great pain pills. The crutches are in my trunk where they will stay as I refuse to acknowledge this development. I'm in such denial over this injury I actually decided to flip and rotate my queen mattress by myself prior to going to the ER. I drove to the ER myself and drove my ass home, leg practically hanging out the window b/c the brace they gave me forces my leg to be STRAIGHT. I don't have time for this and really don't care to deal with it at this point. Hello, I live alone, I have to work and drive somehow. DUH. Unfortunately, it appears that the only thing I can do w/o is the crutches. I go back to the Dr next Friday to discuss my "options." blah.

I once had new years plans, but now I don't. Instead my mother, who we all know has nothing else to do, is coming down to pick me up b/c she doesn't trust me to stay by myself and off my leg for 3 days. So instead of going out and living it up with my friends, I'll be home w/ my dad...sitting next to his wound vac watching it drain shit from the hole in his ass.

I know you're laughing, admit it, I am too. How could you not?

E
Yeah.... Here we are now... My father has passed, my knee is better, crutches were still in the trunk until I bought a new car in March of 2008, my cat survived her STD, and I never did get those pocket free cell games for my friends.

Pardon Me... Are you white?

Chalk it up to one of the most bizarre questions I've been asked, and shockingly I have heard it often, though not lately....

Some Africans moved in below me a few weeks ago. When I say the word "some" I mean to say, I'm not sure how many actually live there. They are perfectly quiet and cordial but so many come in and out of the door, I'm not sure who lives there, and they are quite sporadic in being there at all.

There is a wide variety of ages, dress and what I assume to be "social status." Again, there is not a whole lot of time for me to ascertain the situation as my only glimpse of them is when I walk to and from my door.

What has been unsettling the past few weeks, is without fail, when I leave my apartment, if any of them are outside, they immediately stop what they're doing and STARE. I politely say hello and smile, and as soon as I'm in my car they resume talking or tinkering with the 92 teal Honda Prelude they have been befuddledly working on. I do not mean to imply I have felt threatened or intimated by this, as this is not the case. When I say they have been polite, I'm serious. If the men are sitting or squatting, they stand up bow, nod, or place their hands together and wish me good day... It appears to be sincere, gracious and spoken softly with averted eyes

Today it was raining outside. There is a little covering over the entrances of the apartment and I am on the second floor. Some men were outside their door smoking a pipe and cigar and quietly speaking. Again, I was served up the salutation and stare. As I walked up the steps I heard whispering and then a sigh, and then a "WOULD YOU JUST GO ASK HER!!?!"

The conversation went like this:

"Excuse me, miss?"
"Yes? Are you talking to me?" I said. ( I couldn't tell!!!)
"Hi, uh yes, my parents are staying here while their house is being built, and these are my brothers.. " (names were provided but I can't remember.)
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Erin."
"Erin- Nice to meet you. Listen, can I ask you a question? I don't mean to be rude, but we've been seeing you around for awhile and well, we just want to know... are you a white girl?"
(I'm German/Irish which is as white as they come)
I look at my skin, laugh, and say, "Why yes, I suppose I am."

Then came the shout from one of the brothers.... "I KNEW IT!!! PAY UP!!!"

The man I was talking to apologized and said there was a bet amongst the family members. It appears 1/2 the house thought I was bi-racial and the other 1/2 was convinced I was white. He went on to say his mom thought I had the most beautiful curly hair.

I explained this wasn't the first time I'd heard this question, and there was no need to apologize. I did have the courage to ask, "So is this why you would stare at me whenever I came outside?" He sheepishly said yes.

I entered my apartment and smiled. This is what happens when curly hair meets summer humidity, gotta love it.