Skip to main content

I Don't Like You - Come Here!

Last night I holed up in my bedroom to watch The Real Housewives of New Jersey uninterrupted and all I kept thinking about is are these women for real? How hard is it to just stay away from the people you don't like. I guess I just don't hate anyone enough to spend that much energy on them. Of course, I'm also kind of lazy, and this much bickering about one person seems to take a lot of energy. More energy than I'm willing to spend. I choose to save my energy for the finer things in life, like dipping my chips in guacamole while having a glass of wine with my friends.

Is a fashion show (or any event, when you think of it) that important that you simply must show up and duke it out with your mortal enemy? I watched these women full of piss and vinegar (love that saying, by the way!), staring each other down and boring everyone at their respective tables about how much they hated each other. Honestly, there are other things to talk about. Like the oil spill in the gulf. Or how you feel about the latest Supreme Court nomination. Or what Hugh Hefner really looks like under that robe. I watched as one of the women very purposefully sat waiting to pounce on the other one - you don't like her! Just ignore her! But no. She just had to say something. Had to start the drama. Let her walk away. Be the bigger, better person. She doesn't like you. It's okay...

Really, what are you going to do? Chase her down at the local WalMart and verbally attack her as she's checking out her frozen pizza with her daughter? Run her down like a mad woman in the parking lot and pin her against her car with your cart? Screaming and yelling, arms flailing about as people walk by wondering what medication you forgot to take? Because if I was in that situation, and you were screaming at me in public, here's what I'd be thinking:

Holy, Mary, Mother of Jesus - this woman is a lunatic. Truly, a lunatic. I don't think I've ever been this close to a lunatic before. Maybe. Well, our algebra teacher was pretty nutty - but he mostly talked about stars, so he was kind of like a non-dangerous lunatic. But this woman! Woah! Check out how purple she's getting. That can't be normal. Is it raining? Was that rain? Oh gross - that was spittle. That was her spittle hitting my cheek. Her spit is on my cheek. But I can't just wipe it off - she might take the raising of my hand to be an act of aggression and who knows how she'll react to that. Is it safe for her vein to stick out that far? She's going to explode. Seriously. I think her head might actually erupt. Are skull fragments sharp enough to be considered shrapnel? What if I get a piece of skull shrapnel stuck in my eye. Can you imagine going blind from someone's exploding head? There'd be brain matter raining down all over this parking lot. Great. It's going to get on my car. Which means I'm going to have to wash it off right away because you don't want that stuff drying up in the hot sun; probably take the paint right off. Crap. I don't have any cash. The nearest car wash only takes cash. What is with that? It's brand new! Shouldn't they have all the modern conveniences of the world like the little machine that accepts a debit card in exchange for a washed car? I'm going to have to go to the one behind the bank. I hate that one. It's dirty. Last time I was there that creepy bearded man was going through the garbages. But it does take debit cards. You know, that's why kids today don't truly appreciate the value of money. But can you blame them? They never see it. Think it comes from a card. Back in the day, parents would pile their kids in the car on Saturday morning and head on down to the bank to cash their check. My checks have always been direct deposited. I can't remember the last time I was actually inside a bank. But back then kids saw their parents put some money in an account and take some money for bills. Then they were dragged around town while the bills were paid - a little at the phone company, some more at the electric company, and the rest for groceries. You didn't buy what you didn't have money for. My kids don't see that. They think I magically wave the card and we get stuff we like. They're never going to retire debt-free. They better have nice children to live with - because they're not living with me at my nursing home, that's for sure!"

So, the way I see it, life is way too short for you to waste worrying about whether or not my kids will be able to retire debt-free.

(Of course, this does not discourage me from tuning in for the next episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey when things really heat up and Danielle has a breakdown. I can't wait!)

Comments

Brenna said…
I think that debit card bit needs its own post - that's a really great observation (and more deserving of your brainspace than the bored housewives of silconeville. I just can't. Even.)
Anonymous said…
Another good question about Hugh Hefner. Really? A Captain's hat? What up with the hat?
Sara (Wilson) Luke

Popular posts from this blog

The House that God Built

in·stan·ta·ne·ous /ˌinstənˈtānēəs/ adjective 1. occurring or done in an instant or instantly.
synonyms: immediate, instant, on-the-spot







The thing is, she died so sudden.
I didn't have the chance to plead with God, to make all the irrational promises. If he would just let her be okay.... I would start taking better care of my health. I would be nicer to the neighbor that drove me crazy. I would always let someone else go in front of me at Walmart no matter how long the line was. I wouldn't complain. Ever. I would volunteer at the Homeless Shelter. I would clean up after pigs. I would clip the toenails of the elderly. I would do anything and everything He would ask me to do....
There is a box on her death certificate that captures the amount of time between the initial injury and the time of death. It reads "seconds." I wish it read "instantaneous" because she deserves a clever word like that.
Fast forward five years.... definitely taking MUCH longer than "…

Seeing Avery All Grown Up

One day I'll tell you about the freezing cold we left and the heavy bags we lugged, full of supplies and medicines. I'll tell you about arriving in Port au Prince and walking across a cracked concrete parking lot to board an old school bus with a flat tire. How the heat was suffocating after months of below zero Wisconsin winter weather, how the people crowded and walked too close to moving traffic as we searched for a tire shop that was barely more than a couple men sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets on the side of the road next to a pile of old tires, everything covered in dirt.

I'll tell you about waiting on the bus while they removed the tire and I'll recall the loud explosion that rocked the bus and scared the life out of me and how I was relieved to learn it was just the tire blowing after being filled too far. (They didn't have any gauges.) And then I'll tell you about the fear I felt when I realized we didn't have a tire and we were stuck on th…

When Your Imagined Life is Nothing Like This One

There were so many ways I imagined my adult life would be....THIS is not one of them.
I posted that on my Facebook wall last night. It might have been seen as funny except my choice of hashtags gave me away:
treading water getting nowhere piles of disappointment not many successes worn out and exhausted out of options

I always imagined my life would be thrilling. Full of exciting adventures and people from all over the world. I would dine at Ethiopian, Thai, and Indian restaurants. I would write books, teach English, coach forensics and direct the play. My husband would be charming and funny and not care about gender roles when it came to household chores. He would beg for at least six kids and I would fall in love with him all over again each time I caught him giving good life advice.
I would take photographs and travel the world documenting the people I came across. I would adopt a sibling group of three or maybe four and work on foster care policies because the ones we have aren't work…