Tag Archives: Slice of Life

Winter is coming-er-leaving

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For us working stiff in the U.S. part of the North America hemisphere we have two times during the year that tend to suck. One is the dog days of summer when there are no major federal holidays between Independence Day (July 4th), and Labor Day (the 1st Monday in September). The other time is right now where we celebrate the births of Presidents Lincoln and Washington who had the nerve to be born in the same month. Originally, the dates were two separate holidays in February (yay!), but some grumpitygrumpgrumps got in their heads that was just too much time off and combined them into one major holiday called President’s Day. It is my honest suspicion this was done to preempt those days far down the road of having to honor future great presidents with their own personal days, eventually filling the calendar. “We gave them all one special day to celebrate, you’re not getting any more, now get back to work you peons!” — but I digress, sorta…

President’s Day, which still only honors Abe and George for now, was yesterday. That now means there are no more Federal holidays until Memorial Day at the end of May.  That is  half of February, all of March, all of April and because of how the calendar falls this year, all but one day of May  before we have a government paid holiday off from work. Thus we have reached the other time during the year we 9-to-5ers abhor.  Or as I not-so-poetically stated on my Facebook page this morning…

rai

“And now we enter the dread of winter…”

The realization that this stretch of time in, is nearly twice as long the summer stretch is a special misery. That many of us are in the middle of a very cold winter does not help. Temperatures dropped to an unseasonably brutal teens yesterday. That’s wickedly cold even for this native New Yorker whose memory still holds the nice warm sunny days from vacationing in the Middle East just a two mere weeks ago.

So there’s absolutely nothing to break up the Monday thru Friday monotony, and the pouring rain and umbrella ripping winds that await me for my trek home tonight fill me with such cheer as well.

And  despite my moaning and groaning, as I have to acknowledge today’s crazy rain starts a set of days where the temps are above freezing for the first time in a couple of weeks and I’m already thinking about my St. Paddy’s day outfit.

Not to mention Game of Thrones and Outlander returning to TV.

So, the bad news? Spring is a long 32 days away *grumbles*.

But the good  news? Spring is a mere 32 days away *cheers*.

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Let’s see how other’s are slicing through their day…

sol

 

Time Keeps On Slippin’

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It’s interesting/funny/weird what thoughts can pop into one’s head at any given moment.

Friends and I were conversing about our various upcoming vacations planned for the year. As is the wont is such cases several of us were “I can’t wait to go to…”. What struck me was when one friend ended her vacation itinerary with “Dammit! I wish it were May already!” It’s a common enough desire, especially when looking forward to pleasurable pursuits, but for some reason it struck me as wrong today.

“Don’t do that!” I stopped her.
“Do what?”
“Wish your life away.”

Naturally this generated some very curious looks from the others in the conversation.

We adults, and I definitely include my self in this, constantly say “I wish it were Friday already!” first thing Monday mornings. Oh but, what would we miss if we could just snap our fingers, bypass Tuesday through Thursday and land square at 12:01 am Friday?  Because we focus on the humdrum of an average day, and we all want to be more than average, that we’re mentally, emotionally rushing to get to the next big joy that we’re skipping over the day-to-day of simply living through the small ones.

On my first day of business school I had wished, I was done and graduated because I was not looking forward to the eighteen months of school work ahead of me. Had that wish come true I may have never met the man who would become my husband and missed out on what are now some very fond memories of our time there.

In the words of Stevie Wonder: I wish those days could come back once more…

Take into consideration that when we wish our lives away we’re taking the world with us because El Sol and La Luna do not turn in tune  just one to individual’s desire and leave the rest of our time alone. We don’t just rush our own lives, but the lives of every one else.  You know the saying time flies when you’re having fun? Imagine your moments of joy literally being shortened by someone who is wishing their own horrible moment, hour, day, week, month, year, life away.

An uncle of mine once said to take your age and double it, and then think about chances of your reaching that age. I believe was all of twelve at the time, and in the selfish immortality of my youth, living to see twenty-four was a given so who cares? I’m a long way from twelve, and for that matter twenty-four, while I may have decent odds of doubling may fifty-two years on this earth, the reality is sobering when one considers the inevitable.

Because no matter how long we are alive, it’s never going to be as long as we are dead. After all…

All we are is dust in the wind…

Do we really want to randomly wish moments, minutes, days, weeks, months, and/or years of it away because we can’t be so bothered to actually live it?

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Let’s see how others are slicing up their day…

Slice of Life Challenge: Two Writing Teachers

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What The World Needs Now

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So, I was privately asked by a surprising number of people why I had not temporarily changed my Facebook profile picture in a show of support for Paris. I who am usually up on the latest Facebook fads to have not done so was surprising to them. They have a point, but this Facebook Paris profile thing is just one I could not do.

I’ve been to Paris, but even if I had never step foot in the city I still would wholeheartedly feel for what Paris is going through.  Just as I felt the outrage for London when they were bombed in 2005, often referred to as 7/7 – the date of the occurrence, just as I know both countries grieved with us here in the United States when 9/11 happened.  There is this overwhelming sense of helplessness when one is reading of such a tragedy from afar. After all what can the average Jane and Joe from so far away do right?  Granted, most of the world did not have social media, let alone the ability to easily change our profile pics on FB in 2001 or 2005, but today if we can’t really do anything else, the very least we can do, and it really is the very least, is change our profile picture to show our support for Paris right? Right.

When I noticed the changing profile pictures my very first thought was that’s nice.  Our hearts are in the right places, I do not make light of it.

I get it.

I really do.

Still, I could not help but ask myself the following – where were these near instantaneous profile pics apps of solidarity for

Where are the profile pic apps for any all of them?

A couple of months or so ago, here in the US, Facebookers were able to be “StraightOutta___” whatever they chose to be straight out of in honor/celebration of the release of the movie “Straight Outta Compton”.

A movie.

A simple movie about a rap group from the 80’s was worthy of being on our profile pictures, yet today is the 580th day since 273 Nigerian school girls were kidnapped by Boko Haram terrorists in Nigeria. 57 escaped and 219 are still missing.

Where’s their profile pic overlay app?

Some have tried to say that most of the above didn’t count because the countries have been in some form of contentious states for years, even decades now. But just because Paris is relatively brand new to this and is considered a safe place, are they more worthy than the Israeli and Palestinian who live with the threat of a bombing as a daily fact of life? Uh. no.  And please let it begin and end right here with why tragedies to brown faces get less news coverage and hold our attentions far shorter than tragedies to white faces.  I just can’t/won’t go there with that today for we are all hurting.

We cannot look at the events of Paris and not share in their grief. Nor should we ignore the horrors of one tragedy in order to acknowledge the horrors of another.  I have no qualms for the many Facebookers who have temporarily changed their profile pictures in solidarity of Paris. Again, because I understand it, I really do. I have changed my Facebook cover to better reflect the suffering seemingly everywhere, for I have no solutions or resolutions either.

It’s a jacked-up world we’re living in and the events in Paris and in Lebanon and in Nigeria… and… and… are already fading into the happier glow of the coming holidays, because it’s all we can do to hold to what little happiness can be found out here for us.

Let’s find it and try to hold on to it long past the times that go by with auld lang syne.

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Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Open Mouth Prove Stupid

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Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Why I try to keep my earbuds in as long as possible while riding mass transit so exchanges like this are less likely to happen when I forget I’m not wearing shades to hide my eyes:

1. Every fat, black woman whose name you don’t know or can’t remember is *not* “Precious”.

2. The actress’ name who portrayed Precious is Gabourey Sidibe.

3. The name of the character Ms. Sidibe portrays on “Empire” is Becky.

4. Clearly you’ve forgotten that “Precious” was raped by own her father.

5. Therefore it was “Becky” having consensual sex on the show. Not Precious and not Gabourey.

Thus your exclamation of “Oh gurl, you shoulda seen Precious gettin’ it on like she think she be the real Precious like you know” displays ignorance on multiple levels and why I’m “lookin’ at choo like youse stupid.”

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Yes, the entire mini-tirade above was my response to being asked “Why you lookin’ at me like I’s stupid?” by the young lady who made the statement. I don’t think she actually expected me to answer her when I caught her off guard and responded with “Do you really want me to answer that?” and then took her to school Julia Sugarbaker style.

Let’s see how others are slicing it this week.

Slice of Life writing Challenge: Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

 

When It Matters

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vin

So the above image has slowly been making its rounds across the internet and as a friend of mine duly noted last night —  “Being male isn’t entirely a matter of birth, but.. yeah“.

As I have seen that quote in a couple of places this year, lately as a tagline for a men’s fashion blog on Instagram, I decided to do a little digging and found the following:

Being a male is a matter of birth. Being a man is a matter of choice.

This is credited mostly as a “Coleism” by Edward “Ed” Cole founder of the Christian Men’s Network. Cole is nearly as infamous in christian circles for his quotes and witticisms, as the late, great Yogi Berra was infamous in baseball for his. However, Cole and in various places online credits the italicized quote above to evangelist Ben Kinchlow of the 700 Club, another christian organization for those not familiar with it. This explains the initial thinking behind the first line. Though to be fair, acknowledgement, respect and acceptance of a person’s chosen gender identity when it differs from the birth identity is still something relatively new to modern society and the original quote certainly predates our glacially gradual acceptance of such.

Therefore the pictured quote, if it is indeed a statement from Vin Diesel, I conclude is more than likely his unknowingly paraphrasing the original. Or possibly, a fan of Diesel’s saw the quote floating about online and attributed it to him via creating this photo quote.

All of which, in Life’s funny little way of doing things, brings me to this morning…

A regular Tuesday morning rush commute. A young guy on train, legal drinking age – maybe is humming along with his music relatively quietly until he suddenly decides the song on his iPhone was something to be listened to by all of us, whether all of us wanted to hear it or not.  Understandably, there several objections to this and most emphatically let him know. Embarrassed or emboldened by the public chastisement, he does what any man-child brought to task sometimes do. He starts singing a different song, when it was obvious that the first song had not finished. But this one was clearly meant as a bird flip to us all as it contained explicit language. With his head, back eyes closed and head phones he had effectively tuned us out. Unfortunately, two seats down from him was a tyke who, as most youngsters that age are prone to do, managed to echo every other dirty word and phrase the young man uttered from the song.  The little boy’s mother was into her own music and oblivious to her child until a woman sitting next to her, brought it to her attention. She gently chastised her son for saying bad words (again), but understood where the real blame lay. She reached over the woman next to her and tapped the young man on the leg.

“Hi. I get you want to enjoy your music, but must you sing out loud with it? There are children on the train who don’t need to be hearing all that. ”

An older woman standing next to me grunted her opinion, clearly not a fan of his behavior as well. He rolled his eyes at both women claiming he’s a grown and can do what he wants.

Sometimes, I think I have a mild form of Tourette syndrome that’s activated by abject stupidity as a snort of disbelief came forth. In for a penny… as they say so I continued. “Just because you’re  a male who has reached legal adulthood does not make you a grown man.”

“You saying I ain’t a man?”

“I’m saying being a male is a matter of identity, being a man is a matter of reaching an age where you know you can do what you want, but being grown gentleman is a matter of choice in knowing when it sometimes matters not to. ”

It did not magically resolve the situation on the train, but who knows as the young man exited at the next stop with much attitude, but without another word or song.  I mentally smiled realizing what I just said was a take on the Diesel conversation last night. So now I guess I am the first to quote my friend by paraphrasing them all  Glenn, Diesel, Cole and Kinchlow.

Timing is everything.

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Let’s see how other’s are slicing up their day —

Slice of Life – Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

 

Yourself First

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I was conversing with a friend a few months back, stating while things were far from ideal in my life right now, I am happy with my life in general and with myself  as a person. I was completely taken aback when she said she didn’t think she has ever been truly happy with herself, ever.  I understand it is human to have times when we may not necessarily like ourselves, but to not have been happy – ever? That is deep.  It also explained a lot about her, which was kind of why I was having the conversation in the first place, but that’s her story.

Since that conversation, the subject of personal happiness has come up several times since. Again, I’m continually surprised by how many of my friends are secretly, or not so secretly in some cases, unhappy, with their lives, with themselves. Many don’t, refuse to or simply can’t see the self loathing that is the basis of much of their unhappiness.

Whether you realize or not, It is very hard to love life when you don’t love yourself.

I spent years not being miserable, unable to get along with people, until I finally realized my difficulties with other people were really my difficulties with myself.  I’ve carried my (un)fair share of self shame, unwarranted guilt, inferiority, rejection, etc., internalized it all into a lack of self-love and acceptance. The infamous They say fake it until you make it. Well, I faked the funk well with those who didn’t know, or didn’t care, enough to look deeper. And then self-flagellated as to why didn’t they care enough to look deeper? Because I wasn’t worth it? Charming little cycle of viciousness ain’t it?

There’s a boat load of things I likely would have handled much better when I was younger, had I asked for help at an earlier stage. I told myself I was being strong, I’ve got it handled. Bullshit. I was too weak to ask for help because I did not feel I was worthy of receiving it. If the first step of solving any dilemma is admitting to yourself you’re in one, then the second step most certainly is voicing your need help and the third is accepting that help and actually helping yourself.  It’s a long road, often a tough one, but it is a worthy one. Sometimes you have to put yourself first to get there, and that may mean, reminding others that you are worthy of personal happiness not because of what they allow you to have only after their me. me. me-s, but because YOU give yourself permission to be happy.  There’s a difference between selfish and taking time to take care of yourself. And part of taking care of yourself is making sure you’re doing enough to love yourself for yourself. Not when you reach some arbitrary goal, or if something happens to you – love who you are, as you are right this moment.

Only you can do that for you.

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As I recently posted on Facebook…

happy 1

Because goodness, and every one else for that matter, knows I love me some me now!

It’s really an old adage, but to paraphrase Rupaul who has made it popular in all her blunt glorious sass,  “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love anybody or anything else?”

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Let’s see how others are slicing through life…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Adventures in Eavesdropping while Dining…

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It’s 4:30 in the afternoon. A few friends and I are having a nosh at a local diner when the following unfolds at an adjacent table…

Woman: How is your mac & cheese made, is it baked or…?

(Menu states baked mac & cheese, by the way, I was enjoying the dish as this unfolded.)

Waiter (clearly perplexed by her what color is George Washington’s white horse type question): It’s baked.

Woman: Is it good?

(Because a waiter is ever going to tell her it’s the most foul stuff on earth, even if it’s the absolute truth.)

Waiter: Honestly, I’ve never had it (Wait what?)

Woman: Never had it here or ever? (Okay, an unusual, but valid question.)

Waiter: Ever.

(Yes, I clutched my imaginary pearls. And then went all “I’m Sorry Miss Jackson” Ever, ever? Ever? in my mind. )

Woman: Should I chance it?

Waiter (deadpan): Well, I haven’t seen it kill anyone – yet. (Yes, he had a dramatic pause.)

Of course that would be the moment I choke on my mac & cheese. No, I mean, full-fledged water streaming from my eyes, pounding on my back, drawing all attention in the diner choke.

Woman (understanding that it’s their exchange that has caused the choke): Sounds delicious, I’ll have it.

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Let’s see how others are slicing it up….

Slice of Life Challenge : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Strike Three You’re Dumb?

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So this conversation happened on Facebook…

S: How do seedless grapes grow if there are no seeds to plant?

D: Graphing

S: And that is…?

Rai Venne: Taking the cut of one plant and attaching it to another plant, keeping the newly attached plant alive and growing. Think of it like organ donation where the host body accepts the new organ.

S: Ahhh. Makes sense. I know it was a dumb question but I had to ask it at one point in my life! Thanks Rai!

Rai Venne: It’s not a dumb question, if it gains you knowledge. (Unless you ask it more than thrice, then it’s not that question that’s dumb – lol). :p 🙂

S: Lol. Good thing I retain info pretty well in my old age. But I can’t guarantee I won’t ask 100 more times when I’m 90! I think it’s allowed then, right?

Rai Venne: Absolutely!

grapes

Even at 90 if you’re learning it all over again – you can still learn something new every day.

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Slice of Life: Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

I’ve Gotta Be Me

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I informed a colleague last week, that there is very little that I cannot somehow smutty up without even trying hard, case in point a call with a bank…

Bank Operator (with one killer baritone): Good Morning, welcome to X Bank. My name is Joe and what can I do to give you outstanding service this morning?

No seriously, the man had a voice. Now I know the emphasis on “outstanding” is part of the telephone script spiel, but the way he delivers the line? Dang.

And just like that, I’m off.

Me (with my never far from dirty, but now pure gutter mind for that voice, is remembering to behave): Well regrettably there’s nothing you can do for me Joe, however you can make *Name on Debit Card in My Hand* very happy. I found the card on the subway platform and I’m sure *Name* would appreciate knowing it’s not just floating out there.

Joe: Oh! Well that’s very nice of you to report it in. Let me check the system; what is the number on the card?

Me (in best professional voice – I said I was trying to behave wasn’t I?):*card number*

Joe: Thank you, one moment please…

I grab my scissors out of the drawer while I wait because I know what’s coming next.

Joe: Yes, I have it. Again I would like to thank you for calling this in; that was very nice of you to do. As for the card…

Me (interrupting): I know, I know. I’m taking scissors to it as we speak and will drop it in the shredder for confetti making in a moment.

Joe: Okay. Thank you. Is that all Miss… (he realizes I never gave my name and quickly sallies forth) or is there anything I can do for you?

Oh and there goes that dang emphasis again.

Me (not entirely joking): Read the phone book or 50 Shades or… oh never mind.

Joe (definitely laughing): Wow it’s only Monday morning and not even nine o’clock.

Me (behaving myself thrown out of the window): Right, as though you’ve never talked dirty on the phone first thing on a Monday morning before. You’ve given outstanding oral service today, Joe. You have an excellent day.

Joe (barely keeping the amusement out of his voice): And you as well, thank you for using X Bank.

Me (stage whisper): Not the way I’d like to use you and your voice right now.

I hang up the phone to the sound of much chuckling on the other end.

I gotta be me, I gotta be meeeeee 

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Let’s see how the others are slicing it this Tuesday…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

 

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Toot

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Verbal Diarrhea Diaries aka the crap that comes out of my mouth sometimes that surprises even me.

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A little ego tripping twixt myself and a recent attendee of one of my classes with whom a fun rapport developed via email exchange.

Me:  Weren’t you supposed to email me and remind me to send you this information?

Erstwhile Student:  I had full faith in you that you would remember 😉 Thanks for a seriously awesome training day! You rock…but I’m sure you already knew that.

Me:  * clutches pearls and gasps *

Why, it would be far too immodest of me to self-accolade in such an unseemly manner! I cannot openly concede the methodical superiority in which trainings held under my exacting tutelage are conducted. It would merely serve to further exemplify the depth of all other instructors lacking and that is unkind and unfair.  Luckily, I’m not fair, kind or modest and the horn in which I personally toot is often of a decibel suitable to guide coastal ships in inclement weather.  😉

Besides, the class is only is good as the attendees, many thanks to you for being an equally awesome student.

Erstwhile Student:  LOL! Oh, if only an eighth of my technical classes were even half  as entertaining as yours. Thanks!

Note to my fellow trainers, instructors and teachers reading this. JUST KIDDING!!!!  As I said ego tripping, but it is always wonderful to receive such emails acknowledging your work.

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Let’s see how others are slicing through their Tuesday…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers