Confused and Amused: I'm Glad I'm Over 30!
So funny, you must read this.
Mandy loves the TV show Smallville, have you seen it? A young Superman, with a really hot actor. So the other day when the movie Superman with Christopher Reeves came on we watched. Mandy had never seen it, weird the events of my life that are not a part of Mandy's life. Watching I noticed how Lois acted the whole movie and it reminded me of how most women were portrayed in TV and film back in those days. Annoying, dumb, weak and in desperate need of a savior. Pretty annoying.
Many of the TV shows popular today are the same, women are portrayed as being the stereotypical annoying bitch. Like Deborah in Everybody Love Raymond. I really hate her. How she is such a spoil sport, no fun, a real bitch. My family, I try to explain to them why there are shows I won't watch, Like Raymond. I don't care if it is funny or not, it just really makes me mad so I don't watch.
I remember back in the mid 90's, listening to Rush Limbaugh for the first and only time on the radio. I remember him referring to women like me as femme-Nazis. That's me a rabid femme-Nazi. I get really upset about these seemingly small details.
Mandy is taking an etiquette course at school right now. They believe it is important for our future kids to be aware of proper etiquette. This will help them in their business life. One aspect was that Mandy had to go to a formal dinner with her dad, all dressed up. And Mandy had to properly introduce him to her friends, teacher and to a high ranking base official ( in years past it was a general, but not this year). The next day she had to perform various tasks, and I had to sign a paper saying that she had done the tasks. Tasks like setting the table.
The thing that bothered me was that in this etiquette course they gave specific instructions as to how girls should act and how boys should act. It really bothered me. Would it be ok for them to say, all the black children your etiquette is this, and all the white children your etiquette is this... Then on this worksheet where I have to initial that Mandy did her tasks they asked me to give comments. It was actually worth 4 points for me to give comments. I really wanted to give some femme-Nazi comments. How dare they teach my daughter her proper place. How dare they suggest that in a business setting she should behave differently than the men because, what she doesn't have a penis. So mad.
Mandy told me to get over it. She said that it is important for her to know this crap. What if she is on a job interview and she started going off about feminism crap, would she get the job? So I wrote in the comments section
Mandy appears to know more about etiquette than me.To be honest, the reason I don't work is by enlarge due to the fact that all of my working experience has been up until this point so completely nerve grating due to sexism that I cannot function in my role as wife and mother. I come home so pissed off that I just don't shift well into being a nurturing type person. Now, not working being a wife I am treated so well by everyone. I love it. I know that it is in and of itself disrespectful to be nice to me the non-working Marsha and be mean to the working Marsha, but I like the nice. Someday I will re-enter the work force and be treated again like a dog. My ideas will be dismissed while penis boy will be treated with respect. I will do my best to change the hearts and minds of the penis boys about how smart and competent women are, and hopefully improve the quality of work place treatment so that when my girls enter the work force they will be treated better. But, for now I am enjoying the break from the battle of the sexes.
Ten PM last night I found myself laying on the floor next to Lily's crib in the dark, with no pillow or blanket. Lily had slept so much during the day that she was having trouble falling asleep. I didn't want to let her cry it out with a head cold. This was working for her, she was content to play in her crib in the dark as long as I was there with her.
At first she jumped around, sang songs, and tried to get my attention any way she could. Eventually she settled down and laid her sweet little congested head on her pillow, covered herself with her blanket and settled down ready to fall asleep. In the darkness of the room I could see a bit of light reflecting off her enormous blue eyes. We laid there: me frozen on the floor, her nestled into her comfy quilt; staring into each others eyes. Each of our minds wandering away to distant places.
That is when I heard the first thump. A pause of about a minute or two and then I heard another thump. I knew exactly what that thumping was. Something Little Miss Lily inherited from her father. Something she has never witnessed him do, but inherited none the less. You see those two weirdos, Jeff and Lily, they lift their foot and let it drop to the bed, thump, while falling asleep. I continuously amazed at how many of her little quirks are inherited from her DNA.
When Mandy was little I was convinced that everything she did was due to my parenting, the good and bad were a result of me, me, me. Now I know that they are who they are. The best I can do is give them a safe loving environment to enjoy their childhood. They are going to become whoever they are going to become and I am going to love them weirdo quirks and all.
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I lost two pounds! One week of going to the gym everyday for a half an hour and I lost two pounds, very exciting stuff.
My feet, back, and heel are still hurting; even with new $50 running shoes. I am also feeling like crap emotionally. I thought exercise was supposed to make me happy. I am feeling worthless and snapping at everyone, I don’t think I have been this miserable since I was Mandy’s age. Plus, my period is all wonky. I think my fat is mad and using psychological warfare against me. Just wait until I give up sugar, one more week until the diet starts.
Lily and Jeff have colds, our trip to China is in about a week, so I guess my body is waiting for then to contract this cold. We have to get typhoid shots, I am not sure if I should wait until Lily is feeling a bit better or go ahead and give it to her now. I shouldn’t have procrastinated the shots, but I heard that typhoid shots really hurt and I am such a baby about needles. Lily and I have to get the second shot for Hep A as well. I just hope that we are recovered from all our shots before we get on the plane.
We broke down and bought some furniture at the Bizarre. We spent a ton of money. Local merchants come from all over Japan, twice a year and sell us stuff. We bought two small tables- that we said would be used as night tables in our room, a Japanese sword, and a lamp. The night tables we couldn’t bear to put them in our bedroom, so they are in our living room and our living room tables are in our bedroom being used as night tables. I will try to get some pictures of them to share. They are so very lovely. My table is Japanese and exquisite. Jeff’s is from Tibet. We spent so much money, but we will have these treasures to forever remember our time here in Japan. This is our second big splurge this year. We are being extremely awful with money. I just love to sit in this room with such beautiful things.
My exercise program is going ok. My back is much better, which is great. It usually takes about two weeks to feel better, but all this exercise must have helped because it is completely better this morning. But, now my achillies tendon and my arches are hurting. Jeff says I need new running shoes, does anyone have any recommendations? I have never found a pair of running shoes that works for me. When I was younger I used to run all the time and I never had any problems. So I am thinking it is the weight that makes my feet hurt and not the shoes. But, new shoes, who can say no to that? Still I have been to the gym three days in a row, and I went for a walk jog the day before that. So that makes four days of exercies in the same week.
Today Lily and I are beginning our trip training. I am taking her out and about all day on the bus. We are going to be doing a ton of walking, waiting, and even eat lunch out of my bag. I thought we needed some practice. Lily has been a bit wildfire lately and I am so worried about the trip.
Speaking of the trip, we got our passports back from the Chinese Embassy and we got our Visas to China. They are so cool, they have a picture of the great wall. I now have a Visa to Italy, Kenya, Egypt and China. Jeff has Vietnam too. The Visas to Kenya and Egypt were expensive but just a scrap of paper with someone's initials staped to my passport. Very economical. So we are set. Except we are freaking out about what to feed Lily and how she will behave. Should we bring a stroller? Should we bring our carrier? On our last trip we brought about 3 tons of luggage car seat, and a big yellow monkey - we drug it on and off six trains, two planes, taxi cabs, a cruise ship, a rental car, 2 motels -etc. It was hell. This trip we are tempted to just bring the clothes on our backs and a pair of underwear. (and some diapers, no luck on the potty yet).
Here on base they are having a "Biggest Loser" contest. Billy Banks is even coming for the kick off. To enter you have to have a team of four people. Jeff asked me if I want to do it with him. He doesn't need to loose any weight, but the winning team gets $2000 and he figures if we both do it, we get 1/2 the money because we would comprise half the team. I must have been on drugs at the time, because I agreed to do it with him. What a bunch of crap.
The contest starts on April 4th, so look forward to me being completely miserable. I wish the gym would pass out narcotics after a good workout. So far this week, before I knew about the dumb contest I have worked out twice, I am in so much pain. Anyways I am hoping that I will get all the pain over with before the contest, just get it out of the way. Well that is how I hurt my back, I am so out of shape that jogging threw out my back and caused me to have an incredibly painful stiff neck. Fun times.
So wish me luck, at becoming a big loser.
There are 50 band names hidden in this photo, can you figure them out?
For instance: Spashing Pumkins, The Eagles, Prince, The Rolling Stones, The Monkeys.
I stole this from Angel.
Help me to find some more!
Do you believe in pure good and pure evil? This is the question Jeff was trying to answer tonight for his homework assignment in his Genocide Studies course. He does, I don’t. We ended up discussing it long after the paper was submitted. I love that I am married to someone who enjoys blaviating with me for hours.
To sum up, Jeff believes that some actions are so heinous that they cross a line into being pure evil. Conversely some actions are so great that they cross a line into being pure good.
I can’t wrap my mind around it but to me that definition is too simple. I believe that everyone is capable good and everyone is capable of evil. The conditions that cause people to act outside of what we consider normal are around us everyday and to say only monsters act that way is to ignore and not fully consider other factors which could and do lead to acts of evil. Everyone now agrees that the holocaust was pure evil, but not at the time it was happening. Many otherwise good people turned looked away. There are things happening in our world today, things we turn our backs to because they are complicated and we don’t really know what to do about it, and those things we don’t think of as pure evil like the holocaust. Things like Katrina and poverty. Or when we go to war, what are our reasons? What were the reasons people commit genocide? Are those reasons and are those things the same or different? I think calling some people pure evil and then trusting others because, hey I know they are good people and not pure evil is the easy way, the
I am rambling, probably because I threw out my back and I have been in so much pain!
If you are still reading I have a funny antidote for a reward. One of the guys who works with my husband, his job is to administer hearing tests to people whose job it is to be near really noisy stuff. He tells me that he has noticed that married men cannot hear sounds at a very small range of frequencies, out of one of their ears. When he was working in the
My professor sent us a picture of the lawn chair she is sitting in, on the beach somewhere in Thailand. She has had to have knee surgery and decided that sitting at home in her living room recovering wasn't as much fun as sitting on a beach in Thailand. Since my class is via the Internet she is doing her job, getting paid, and sitting in the shade of a palm tree in Thailand. Such a life.
I got to thinking about vacations. I don't think I have ever had a vacation like that. Mine are very go-go-go. No sitting on beaches enjoying the view. No contemplating life. Go-go-go.
My job involves sitting on the living room floor in sweats, singing songs and doing puzzles. Maybe I am not really in need of a serene type vacation. Still, that beach chair looked mighty inviting.
Speaking of my job… Did you know that the melody/harmony (I don’t know the difference) of the ABC song and Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star are the same?
Lily told me by singing…
A.B.C.D.E.F.G ---
How I wonder what you are ---
Q.R.S.T.U.V. ---
Like a diamond in the sky.
She is a clever one. When I told Mandy how clever Lily is, Mandy said…”I’ve been telling you that for years, you never listen to me.” (insert door slam here).
Note to self: Don’t tell eldest child how smart youngest child is. (see how clever I am) It only took 15 years for me to learn how to communicate with the eldest child.
The birds are singing, the angels are playing their harps... The snow has melted enough for us to play.at.the.playground. Behind our house is the most awesome of playgrounds and we have had to look at it burried in snow for months, but today we played there. It was a magically moment. Lily and I were beside ourselves in happiness. She ran around the playground, her feet barely touching the ground, she was so delighted to play at her playground. Yeah.
We then had cocoa and a nap. All is right in our world.
Last week, or the week before I forget, we had another big dump of snow. In the morning I slipped on the ice letting the dog out. I then drove Jeff to work, and started shoveling. I had to quit shoveling after about a 1/2 an hour because Mandy was taking care of Lily and she had to get ready for school. So I went into the house before finishing my required shoveling duties. I was risking getting a ticket for not having my area shoveled but someone has to take care of Lily. I was in such a bad mood by then. The combination of the fall and the shoveling had caused every last inch of my body to be incredibly sore.
That morning I had to drive Mandy to school because she was bringing a project that was too bulky for the bus. About an hour after I had given up on shoveling the three of us, went out to get in the car and drive Mandy to school. We discovered that one of my neighbors had finished up my shoveling. I have no idea who it was but the shoveling was done. I was so grateful and delighted that it effected my entire day. The entire day I just enjoyed every minute. Lily and I laughed more than normal, we danced and sang and acted like nuts. That is typically what it is like living on a military base. One of the treasures of living on an overseas military base is that everyone is family. Even if you don't know someone's name, they are here and they are family. I cannot count the times someone has gone out of their way for me, a stranger or a friend. We embrace each other regardless if we would be friends with that person in a different circumstance.
This lead us to feel very safe in our community. Mandys spends the night at people's houses who I have never met. Girls whose parents have never met me spent the night here. Kids run the streets without supervision. It reminds me of when I was a kid, when you just went outside to play.
So when I read this article it really upset me. A man from my community has been jailed for downloading child pornography. A man with 18 years military service, a father, a husband, one of us. I realize that maybe that sense of security that I feel is false. I hate the thought of having to build a brick wall around my daughters. I hate that I have not escaped the ugliness of the world, that it is here and everywhere.
This morning Lily woke up about an hour earlier than she normally does. Through the monitor I hear...
"Hey, it's dark in here. Turn on lights please."
Last night our anniversary dinner was fabulous. Lily was an angel. Mandy and I shared a seven course meal, that was fun. Jeff had his favorite, spicy pork and cabbage. He is eminating a smell which will last for days, not just his breath but the smell of fermented cabbage comes out of his pores. Good stuff.
Three years ago today we stepped off of the plane and into the cold and freezing rain of Misawa, Japan. After gathering our luggage and cat, we were escorted to our temporary housing and it proceeded to snow 19 inches. Welcome to Misawa.
I was very pregnant with Miss Lily. The flight here was the worst thing I had ever endured in my entire life. We flew over on the rotator (plane contracted through military) and not commercially. We had to stop at two other military bases in Japan, get off the plane and wait for hours, get back on the plane, etc. I cannot even remember how long the trip took, it felt like years. In addition to the horrid flight we had to be at the Airport in Seattle several hours before the flight wait in horrendous lines for our name to be called, then wait again to check in, then wait some more for the flight. Before that we had traveled from Italy to Virginia, Virginia to Salt Lake City and, Salt Lake City to Seattle. Each leg of the trip with our cat Daisy. Each leg of the trip fraught with delays and several different plane changes. All while very pregnant, with about 10 tons of luggage and on our way to a new unknown home.
When we arrived it was afternoon. Jeff thought we should stay awake until night so our bodies would adapt faster to the time change. We showered and tried to sleep but discovered our hunger was more pronounced than our exhaustion. It was snowing by then. Luckily we arrived with full winter gear. I carried all this from Italy to Japan but now I was glad to have it. We called a taxi, even though we were on an American Military Base our Taxi driver did not speak a lick of English.
We asked him to take us to a Japanese restaurant. It turns out that in Japan, they don't call Japan - Japan they call Japan - Nippon. He took us to the Japanese Police Station. We tried again to explain where we wanted to go, and he took us to a Chinese Restaurant. Chinese food in Japan, whatever I was hungry. He gave us a card with a telephone number to call when we were done eating and we went inside to eat dinner.
It was early for dinner, maybe five. This was a small restaurant, The New Myiaki. We were immediately seated and given menus. Everything looked delicious. We were so hungry we ordered a ton of food. Soup, salad, appetizer, main dishes and dessert. We went crazy. It turned out to be way more food than we can eat. Which it turns out is not appropriate behavior in Japan. You eat what you take, no waste. So we were very rude on our first day.
It was a huge difference being in Japan compared to being in Italy. In Italy if you arrive at a restaurant at five pm they will not be open. When you arrive at seven you are the only one there, sometimes they haven't even turned on the lights. It takes the waiter at least 15 minutes, even though you are the only ones there, it takes forever for them to come and take your order and even longer to get your food. If you order several courses you are so screwed because each course takes so long to arrive. If I were there in Italy alone with my husband or with friends this would be wonderful. A long leisurely dinner, but with my family it is so painfully slow.
Here in Japan it is not at all like that. You have a door bell on your table that you ring to let your server know you are ready. You can ring it anytime, and get immediate service. Once we ordered, our food was brought to us within a couple of minutes. We almost fell out of our chairs. The food was perfect and delicious. We were in and out and back to our lodging in less than an hour. This is why we go there, to our lovely New Myiaki on March 7 - to celebrate arriving in Japan.
To celebrate all that Japan has come to mean to us. The prompt and courteous service, the perfect food, the smiling faces, and the 19 inches of snow. Let it snow as long as I can fill my belly with Chinese food in Japan. I wonder what we will be eating in China?
In 1994 I was a single mother and college student. I was taking 18 credit hours per semester, making straight A's and taking care of other people's children at night. I can't believe how busy I was, taking only one class at a time now. Anyways, there was a young man who happened to be in several of my classes, a young man from Pakistan. I don't really remember his name so I will call him Mohammad.
I was the only female in my Calculus class. The teacher graded on a curve. When I scored 100% on every single test this upset the males in the class who were scoring around 50 or 60%. Some of these students asked me to get together with them in a study group, Mohammad being one of the members of the study group. The college I was attending, Consumnes River Community College offered free childcare to students, they had an Early Childhood Education program and appreciated the opportunity for the students to experiment on my daughter. This gave me the opportunity to study with the group, an opportunity to socialize since that was sorely lacking in my life. At the time I was planning to become a math teacher and I had been earning extra money tutoring since high school. I guess in this case I was giving it away for free. The boys of my study group and I became good friends.
I had a tremendous work ethic toward school at the time. I did every single problem assigned and re-did the entire problem until I got the correct answer, this is why I was able to do so well in my classes. I have always loved learning. Mohammad was not like that, he never did his homework, never studied, just showed up. Mohammad started to try to copy off my papers in all of the classes we had together. This really bothered me. I wasn't really great at speaking my mind at the time but I let him know that this was not ok with me. He was furious.
Later, he asked me to get together with him outside of the study group and help him study for an upcoming test. I told him I had to get my daughter and I wouldn't be able to help him. He said he didn't know I was married, and I said I am not. He asked if my husband had died or was I divorced. I said that I had never been married. He told me that in his country if a girl gets pregnant before she is married that she is stoned. I had no idea what that meant and asked him to explain and he did.
Being a young, poor, single mother in America is not a easy. I had lost my friends. My family made sure I knew how much they disapproved. My life was psychologically very hard I felt alone and ostracized. To have this man tell me the he thought I deserved to be murdered in such a violent way, that if I were his sister he would throw the stones himself, well it overwhelmed me with despair. By the time I got to the parking lot of the school I was sobbing.
This incident has always shaped my perception of middle eastern men and the Muslim culture. Is it a true and accurate description of Muslim men? This one dirty, smelly, lazy young man who upon not getting exactly what he wanted from me viciously attacked me with his hate.
Fast forward to early 2001. I am now married to Jeff and we are living in Italy. Jeff's dream for his next assign is Turkey. I say no way I am not living in Turkey. I am not living in a country that treats women "that way". I was adamant. I have a daughter I don't want her living in or being exposed to people who treat women like that.
A year later in 2002. We have the opportunity to go to Egypt. I decide that the opportunity to take a cruise down the Nile, to go inside the pyramids, to see the hieroglyphics is worth being in a Muslim country for a couple of weeks. I would be willing to cover my head with a scarf, to go into a pyramid. So we go.
Our tour guide Sammy was an amazing man. He reminded me of Bing Crosby. Impeccably dressed in an Egyptian cotton button down shirt, perfectly ironed and slacks. Sammy spoke perfect English, he had degrees from Egypt, Israel and America. He told us the story of Ancient Egypt is such a beautiful compelling way. Always careful to tell the stories in a way that was without judgment of any culture. It is hard to tell of history without impugning anyone's culture but his words and stories were carefully chosen to be without inference of bias. This trip was less than six months after 9/11 and we were all very curious about Muslim culture and asked him many questions, not only of his religion but of his government and public opinion. I learned a lot more on this trip than I can convey with words.
Another Muslim man I met on this trip to Egypt was Achmed. Achmed was our "go to" guy. Sammy told the stories and Achmed made sure that our bus arrived on time, that our lunch was ready when we arrived, he procured me some great medicine when my Western meds wouldn't stop the "peeing from my butt". Achmed was in his early 20's and quite handsome. Mandy was 11 at the time and was madly in love with Achmed. On the cruise ship while Jeff and I drank Achmed played in the pool with all the kids. He teased and threw her in, she pushed him in. They all played cards. Achmed was fun, handsome and charming. I couldn't imagine Sammy or Achmed stoning a woman to death. I didn't even think about that aspect of their culture.
Sammy and Achmed became like members of our family for those two weeks in Egypt. To us and to everyone in our 25 member tour group. Sammy was like a character out of an old black and white movie; elegant, sophisticated, well educated with impecable manners. Achmed was like my little brother; energetic and fun. Were these men a more accurate portrait of a typical Muslim man?
Years later here in Japan, our friends were leaving on their way to be stationed in Turkey. Jeff tells them how he always wanted to go to Turkey, but I don't want to go there. He tells them of my fears, of my not wanting our girls to be in a country that treats women so badly. When I listen to his words, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I had once been so small minded, so fearful. I judged every Muslim person based on my view of one man, and bits and pieces of what little I knew of their culture. When I heard Jeff repeating the exact words and sentiments I had used and felt so strongly about, I really realized how much this experience of living abroad of traveling the world has changed me.
I am thankful that when I go into a restaurant in a foreign country that the person who seats me doesn't say I am sorry we don't want your business because you are from "that country" that abuses prisoners of war or leaves people to die after a hurricane.
I am thankful that the cook doesn't spit in my food (I hope) because I am from "that country," that spawned Jeffery Dahmer and Charles Manson and has the highest murder rate in the world.
I am thankful that the people at the other tables don't refuse to eat at a restaurant that serves people who come from "that country" where so many men murder their pregnant wives.
It is hard to trust, it is hard to be open to understanding other cultures, but for the first time I am recognizing that some of my fears are more bigotry than fact based.
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