This week's Words For Wednesday are: calamitous, fraction, spanx, glittering, ambitious, indispensable or 'a glitch in time saved mine'.
I usually write a poem using the words from Words For Wednesday, but this week I decided to write a short story using them instead. When I saw that one of the words was "Spanx," it immediately brought an incident to mind that happened about six years ago.
My daughter and I used an upcoming wedding as an excuse to go
on a mini shopping spree. I decided to let vanity guide me all the way on our
rather ambitious endeavor. Usually shopping holds no appeal for me, but on this
occasion I unleashed all my almost nonexistent girly-girl tendencies. After
trying on many dresses, I selected the hot pink pleated one. I liked the way it
looked on me because it disguised all the usual flaws that happen as a woman
gets older, but accented all my remaining physical virtues. Plus I was up for
exploring new territory. Short and sassy was the way to go for this old bird,
but something was missing! Oprah always claimed that each woman’s wardrobe
needed one indispensable item. She emphatically stated, “ALL women need Spanx!”
Who was I to dispute Oprah’s claim? So I decided to give Spanx a whirl.
Trying on Spanx was funniest thing I had experienced in ages. I tugged and
pulled and finally after much laughter and a few bad words I had it on. Wow! As
promised it flattened what needed to be flattened, smoothed everything else out
and had the extra bonus of pushing up my breasts and making them look young and
vivacious. I was amused at how easily it came off after the difficulty I had
putting it on. I felt like a banana as I literally peeled the Spanx off. Next
up on the list of things to do was to purchase shoes and accessories. I
normally don’t wear heels because I’m tall, but I decided to go all the way
this time and forego flats by purchasing the pair of glittering silver heels
that made my legs look so good that even a super model would envy them. Yes, I
broke the bank, but I was ready to dazzle all my old friends and shake my tail
feathers on the dance floor.
After the ceremony, most everyone took a short walk to where the reception was
held. Only a small fraction of the guests drove their cars two blocks to
Seville Square. Upon arriving at the reception, I slipped my shoes off and
opted to commit a usual Karen cardinal sin by going barefoot. I did, however,
put my shoes back on when a group of us visited the restroom a little while later.
I thought, “Here we go again” as I struggled with unhooking the hooks of the
Spanx so the lady in pink could go tinkle. I carefully rehooked the hooks and
sashayed my way back into the reception. By that time, toasts were being made
so a lot of standing up and sitting back down was going on. About the third
time I had to stand and raise my glass, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A young
man leaned in close to me and quickly whispered, “Ma’am, you need to fix the
back of your dress.”
As I nonchalantly ran my hand down the back of my dress trying to find what the
young gentleman was talking about, I discovered that my Spanx had gotten caught
on the back of my dress causing the whole right side of my derriere to be exposed. OMG!
Thank goodness my backside remained covered by my Spanx, but I could only
imagine how many pictures of me standing there clueless had been taken and
posted to Facebook for all to see. Kodak moments like that don’t happen often.
I chuckled and acknowledged to myself that this was just another in many
uniquely “Mildred” moments. I know I had the look of a defeated beauty queen as
my calamitous fashion faux pas was revealed and finally resolved. Once again I
pulled and tugged at those damn Spanx and finally without too much damage, my
dress came loose. And as my friends and family all chimed in and reveled in
utter joy, each one thanked me for making the occasion a truly unforgettable
one. Yes, Mildred may clean up well, but somehow the true Mildred always comes
out no matter how hard I try to stifle her.
As defined in the dictionary, a hermit is a person who has withdrawn from society and lives a solitary existence often times for religious reasons (Mildredism). The primary residence of a hermit is called a 'hermitage'. I lovingly call my hermitage "the cave". Several 'hermitages' in close proximity make up what I call a 'hermitdome' which most people might consider to be an enigma or a paradox since hermits like solitude above all else. Urban and suburban hermits may live in solitude together, but the rare rural hermit is revered by all hermits for he/she lives in true solitude! Regardless of where a hermit dwells, clustering too closely together is clearly avoided...or at least hermits claim they don't cluster unless it's mating season. Then you need to batten down your hatches and put up the NO VACANCY sign. Trust me, there's nothing more menacing than a hungry hoard of horny hermits (now that's a tongue twister in more ways than one.) Say it 5 times quickly without smiling and you get a prize!
A collection of 'hermitdomes' comprise the 'hermitsphere' or better described as the solitary cosmic universe in which a hermit spiritually resides. The atmosphere inside an individual 'hermitage' is called the 'hermitude'. A 'hermitude' is a true depiction of who the hermit is and reflects the hermit's general attitude...and altitude at all times. It can be dark, and dank inside and or it can be sunny and inviting or it can fluctuate between the two depending upon the ever-changing mood of the hermit. A 'hermitage' can be as simple or complex as a hermit wants it to be. Usually it's structured to fit the specific needs of the hermit that dwells inside so that outside contact can be kept as minimal as possible...except during mating season and then anything goes!
Does anyone care to interpret the dream I had last night? I spent last night dreaming about a rather large crack I have in my hermitage that was letting the sunshine inside. What a revolting development that was! I sat in my cave pondering the best way to repair the crack and then I noticed it! A huge FOR SALE sign was hanging by my front door. I sprung to my feet and quickly started trying to remove the sign, but the harder I pulled the more securely it stayed hung. I looked around and thought, "These deep red bedroom walls have to go! It's time for a change!" Yes, indeed it's time for a change! Any suggestions? Maybe purple instead? Perhaps I should wait for mating season and get a big, burly hermit to fix my crack. Oh no! I didn't just write that. What's wrong with me? Could it be that I'm one of those hungry, horny hermits, too? Okay folks, it's time to batten down your hatches and stay away from Mildred until she stops drooling. I'll wave a white flag when it's safe to come out of hiding...
To all my fellow hermits and kindred spirits alike, in the words of Robert Frost:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep...
I not only support, but I also respect a person's right to worship in any manner that best suits that person. This also includes a person's right to exclude themselves from religious worship altogether and perhaps walk a road a little less travelled by claiming they don't believe in God at all. The older I get the more I realize many people don't have the capacity to live and let live. They seem to want or need everyone to be the same cookie cutter image of themselves. Any variant is feared, hated, ridiculed, judged and then condemned. Where religion is concerned I see less tolerance in differences than in any other aspect of life....even politics.
So many people try to ram their religious beliefs down other people's throats and act as if they have a direct pipeline to God. How they interpret His Word is 100% correct and only like-minded people know the way to live righteously and will receive true salvation or so they think. I may be wrong...I've been that way a time or two in my life, but somehow I see a direct correlation between those people who cry loudest about being be Christians and those who judge other people the loudest and most adamantly. I may not be up on many Bible verses, but correct me if I'm wrong, isn't judgment saved only for God Himself? With that being said, my pet peeve isn't about what these religious lunatics believe, but about how they act because of their beliefs. When I hang a sign on my front door saying NO SOLICITORS that includes selling religion door to door. I'm sorry, but I hung that sign for a reason so when you knock on my door anyway does that mean you don't have a true grasp of the English language? Should a I hang a dictionary next to the sign? Or are you just that arrogant as to think you know what I want more than I do?
Communication breakdown, it's always the same
Havin' a nervous breakdown, drive me insane...
Hey wait! That's the lyrics of a Led Zeppelin song and not what I intended to write here. Oops! I'm sorry for clearly leading you down a road paved with good intentions and although I'd like to say it won't happen again, we all know Mildred does get side-tracked from time to time. What I really had on my mind is discussing a communication faux pas we all are guilty of committing. I know you're all thinking, "What about PET PEEVES #3? Does Mildred only have 2 pet peeves?" The answer to that is...stayed tuned for the next PET PEEVES installment coming real soon!
It's a well known fact that men are from Mars and women are from Venus, but in today's world the communication breakdown goes much deeper than just between the sexes. It's virtually everywhere! Most people are frequently caught up in the intention vs. consequences battle of the wits and are clueless when it comes to how to approach the recipient of their failed good intentions. In an article written by Peter Bregman from Harvard Business Review he claims that intention vs. consequences is the root cause of so much interpersonal discord and I have to agree with him.
Mr. Bregman states that "it's not the thought that counts or even the action that counts. That's because the other person doesn't experience your thought or your action. He or she experiences the consequences of your action."
Mr. Bregman goes on to explain that when you've done something that upsets someone-no matter who's right-always start the conversation by acknowledging how your actions affected the other person. Save the discussion about intentions for later. Much later. Maybe never. Because in the end your intentions don't matter much. He also points out that it doesn't matter if you feel the other person is justified in feeling the way he or she does. What a person should be striving for is understanding and not agreement. Once understanding of the consequences is expressed, the need to justify intentions dissipates.
What comes to mind after I read the article is something a sagely person told me many times in my misspent youth. Each time I got defensive and tried to adamantly justify my (good) intentions, he would tell me "the road to Hell is paved with good intentions." It took me many years to realize truer words were never spoken. What I know now is paving any road with good intentions is never worth the effort. What matters most isn't what you intended because let's face it life has a sneaky way of screwing up even the best laid plans. In the long run what matters most is your ability to accept responsibility for your actions. In doing that it somehow helps history from continually repeating itself.
I support anyone expressing who they are through fashion. Some people aren't afraid to make a fashion statement and develop a keen fashion sense that's bold and unique. Those people aren't a cookie cutter version of the next person in a crowd. Those are the people who truly get a tip of my hat and a standing ovation as well.
But sometimes people carry their right to wear whatever they want to a little too far. It nauseates me when anyone exhibits absolutely no taste or self-respect by dressing like they have no brain cells or eyesight. For example, when I see a woman wearing short shorts with the cheeks of her derrière hanging out and her love handles flapping to the wind for everyone to see, it makes me want to ask her if she owns a mirror. Any size woman can look good by wearing clothes that flatter her figure, but ladies, COVER THAT STUFF UP! It's not sexy! It's not cool! And it certainly doesn't look good! Just because you have it doesn't mean you have to flaunt it. No one wants to see your fat ass except maybe your boyfriend or your husband (or both)! And if you're a friend or family member of someone who dresses that way, do them a HUGE favor and tell them they look horrible. Here's a golden opportunity to be honest and to do the rest of the world a huge favor as well.
Even the most liberal, easy going, peace loving person has pet peeves. Unlike some people who exhibit road rage or go postal by shooting up a place killing a bunch of innocent people, my petty pet peeves aren't fuel for much more than a series of blog posts or a real life bitch session with my friends. Yes, for the most part I'm an easy going, live and let live type of person. I do, however, have a few pet peeves that not only ruffle my feathers at times, but sometimes have me scrambling for heartburn medicine and a muscle relaxer as well.
I'll kick this series off by saying my sources of discontent aren't listed in any particular order. I'll just write about them as they pop into my otherwise "kumbaya" mellow existence. Although my most recent trip to North Carolina was enjoyable in so many ways, it also was a refresher course for several of my pet peeves. While they're still fresh in my mind let me kick this series off with ranting about my drive from Florida to North Carolina and back again.
Like most people who are driving a long distance, I take the fastest route by traveling on the Interstates between point A and point B. I have to admit I don't adhere to the speed limit and perhaps I could be categorized as having a lead foot at times, but I mainly drive about as fast as the flow of traffic...give or take 10 or 15 miles per hour. What makes me crazy is getting behind someone who can barely see over their steering wheel and who drives 30 miles per hour slower than everyone else on the Interstate. Why are these people even on the Interstate and not on some secondary road if what they want to do is sight see? If you drive like you have nowhere to go and have trouble putting pressure on the gas pedal, then I think your ass belongs on a bicycle or dog sled and not driving a car that's holding up holiday traffic. My mother always gets a kick out of me ranting about F.O.P.'s (fucking old people) and kindly reminds me that I'll be one myself someday. I'm sure she's right...she usually is!
My second "on the road" pet peeve is the availability and cleanliness of rest stops. Florida, Alabama, South Carolina and North Carolina have ample rest stops, but Georgia doesn't think people should have to urinate or stretch their legs in their state without getting off the Interstate and buying gas or food. The rule of thumb where rest stops are concerned seems to be that the further North you travel the filthier the rest stops become. Some states (Connecticut is the guiltiest, by far) should bulldoze their rest stops completely and replace them with a porta-potty and a spigot to wash your hands.
Call me old fashion, but I think anyone who texts while driving is not only crazy, but is unsafe to be behind the wheel of a car. I used to think the same thing about women who applied their make-up while driving, but I was accused of being jealous because I could never master that skill. People have become so plugged into their electronic devices that they've forgotten how and when to act sensibly or how to be courteous when in the company of other people. Is any text message really that important that it's worth putting people's lives at risk? Say what you will, but I think anyone driving should be focused on the road and not be playing Russian Roulette with their vehicle. Driving is a privilege, not a right and maybe if the laws were changed to revoke a person's license if they're busted for texting while driving then more people might think before they reached for their cell phone. LOL or :) really can wait for an more appropriate time.
