"Friends" Taught Me True Selflessness

Recently I was watching the TV show "Friends". The episode was entitled, "The One where Phoebe hates PBS". The story that struck me was the one between Phoebe and Joey, where he told her that there was no such thing as a selfless good deed. Joey believed that by doing something for someone else, one is essentially doing something for themselves. You help out a friend and feel good about it, so everybody wins. Phoebe spent the entire episode trying to find a deed that proved Joey wrong. She believed that there can be a deed done where only the receiving party benefits. By the episode's end Phoebe is never any closer to finding one.
The first time I watched this episode I thought long and hard, and, finally had to agree with Joey. If I help out a neighbor, I feel good and they do too. If I send someone a card to tell them their in my thoughts, they feel better and so do I. Even bringing in the garbage can from the curb (something I loathe doing) lets my husband know I'm trying to do something nice for him, and I end up feeling dirty, but satisfied.
But recently life has taught me lesson: there can be something as profound as a selfless good deed. One of my bulldogs, who turned 12-years-old in April, got extremely ill this spring. In years past, she's often battled illness and, being the fighter that she is, always won. Then one day, shortly after her birthday, she lost a lot of weight, started having difficulty eating and breathing, and the next thing we knew, she was on dialysis for doggies. Her condition improved for a little while, and we were naively hopeful. My bullies are my babies - we have no people-kids of our own. As we prayed for her recovery every free moment I had I spent nursing one dog, and trying to appease the other with what little energy I had left. School work, house work, and just plain work went to the wayside as we sought solutions. We made homemade "super"-food, administered intravenous fluids, and gave "lovies" every chance we got. Unfortunately, it seems our hopeful hearts and persist ant hard work was all for naught. Two weeks ago it became desperately evident that she was at the end. She wouldn't even lift her head to eat her favorite candy: a Dot. I made the call and the vet was gracious enough to come out to the house to take down this piece of our heart. I read to my little love from "Anne of Green Gables" while we counted down to the minute the last bits of time we'd ever have with our girl. We went through the motions of being gracious hosts when the vet arrived, we made small talk as the instruments were made ready, and we fought to control our emotions so we could succinctly say our very final good-bye.
Even now the tears are fresh, and the pain may never subside. But as we laid our girl to rest and placed a beautiful butterfly bush in her memory, we have the gift of knowing we performed a selfless good deed. It hurts like hell, and I'd give anything in the world to have it reversed, but it was what was best for her, not us. After all the love, loyalty, and joy she gave us, and the way she made our little family complete, it certainly was the last gift we could give her - peace.
Our hearts will miss you forever and always Dixie Girl...
We wuf u,
"Mama" & "Papa"

Privacy? We don't need no stinkin' privacy!

Just finished reading an interesting book called
"The Future of Reputation: Gossip, Rumor, and Privacy on the Internet". I think this is a great book for anyone who has a blog. It really opened my eyes to what is protected, what should be protected, and where you can really get caught with your pants around your ankles!
Even if you don't have a blog, the "dog poop girl" story is well worth the cost of the book.
Daniel J. Solove explores the realm of privacy and how little we have left in the age of the internet. Solove is considered an "expert in privacy law" and it shows in his writing. There were so many things I hadn't thought about until he addressed them in this book. It's a quick but informative read, and one that all of us should remember the next time we're posting last Saturday's party pix online.
Enjoy!

Friend or Fossil?

One of the great things about going back to school is getting to see life through the fresh perspective of my "peers". One of the drawbacks is seeing myself through the same perspective.
I knew going into this that I was usually going to be one of, if not the, oldest student in the room. Typically I can blend in fairly well. I try not to dress like a soccer mom, but I also try not to dress like a teenager. I keep it simple. Of course, there's been a few awkward moments that have given me away. Ther's been a few times where a professor has asked "Does anyone remember..." and I've been the only person to raise my hand. There was the time I wore a t-shirt that was emblazoned with The Breakfast Club crew. When I was asked by several students if the group on my tee were friends of mine and did I meet them for breakfast before class, I tried not to cry in front of them. Then there was the time when I couldn't get in to see my hair dresser for two weeks. My roots looked like they'd been streaked with cream cheese frosting, and every kid I had to talk to in my classes only talked to my scalp as they tried to figure out what the hell I was doing with so much white hair.
But perhaps the most recent indcident is the one that has really damaged my chances of ever blending in again. While sitting in a class, discussing the ins and outs of privacy and the media, the subject of the internet came up. Everyone around me is 19-years-old and chatting about posting pix to their blank-space/book/itter pages and how they've handled privacy. Before I can stop my mouth to engage my brain I decide to pipe in my two cents about life and the internet. Acting cool as a cucumber (that phrase alone should keep me out of the club), I blurt out:
"Man, I'm so glad the internet wasn't around when I was in school!"
"Why?" one kid asks. "Did your school not have access to it or something?"
"No." I respond with a laugh. "The internet wasn't even available yet."
And yes, their reaction was as terrible as you might imagine.
They recoiled as if in horror, which actually surprised me. Then they all instantly looked at the roots on my head and saw the patches of gray. After that, no one was even looking me in the eye. I had revealed my secret - I'm A THIRTY-SOMETHING GROWN-UP!! GASP!!
I'm so glad that I have enough maturity to laugh about this - and that I can buy a house, rent a car, and still believe in Ferris.

The Preppies are coming! The Preppies are coming!!

I was hoping to get something all fancy and official up here...BUT I CAN'T WAIT!! Today is the day JEN LANCASTER'S new book "PRETTY IN PLAID" hits stores!! The time? 1980's. The crime? Jen in a college sorority. Lord help us all! Between the hair spray and the "preppy wear" this should be a non-stop-pee-in-your-pants laugh fest!
For those of you who've been under a rock for the last couple of years, she's a fantastic author who doesn't hold back. Her books are typically memior-style, and they'll have you snorting chardonay out your nose in no time (which is a good thing, trust me).
I haven't much time for more, but click on her name above and check it out for yourself, or click on the link to the left of this post ("Land of the Free, Home of the Bitter"). It'll be well worth the price of admission (or the book, anyway).

Love on the outside

When my husband and I were first married we agreed to a more traditional type of relationship. He would do the typical "man" things, such as washing the cars, mowing the lawn, and taking out the garbage. I agreed to perform the more "female" jobs like laundry, cooking, and staying as sexy as the day he first met me. Ah, youth.
As he and I approach our eighth wedding anniversary the luster has worn off of this dog and pony show. Love has ceased to be about the demonstrative actions we used to take. About two years ago he decided that he no longer had time for most of his duties. Now the car is washed by high school kids at the Super Elephant car wash, the lawn is mowed (very badly) by moi, and the garbage? All done by me. Only now, it also includes taking out the recycle. Oh joy.
I suppose I can't blame the poor guy, I haven't exactly held up to my end either. As my last post shared laundry isn't my forte, and my cooking turned out to be almost deadly (I swear I followed the recipe!), and as far as maintaing my sex appeal? Let's just say J.T. won't be singing about me bringing "sexy back".
Most of these realizations have taken place over a period of time. But I was slapped in the face with one of them. I truly thought I still had the sexy thing down. I go tanning (every six weeks so really, it sort of a moot point), I try to keep my make-up on until he gets home (does runny mascara count?), and I shave my legs...sort of.
This week has been particularly cold and I decided to wear knee high socks under my jeans to keep me warm. I couldn't figure out why my legs felt so irritated and scratchy while I wore them. The socks were cotton so it couldn't be a fabric issue; the jeans weren't tight so my legs weren't constrained. And then it dawned on me - it had been not one, not two, but THREE WEEKS since I'd last shaved my legs! The worst part? My husband didn't even notice! AAGGHH!! The thrill is gone people, the thrill is gone.
Maybe instead of getting each other bronze or pottery for our anniversary, I should look into a leg wax. Ah, l'amour.
TTFN from your favorite housewife!
P.S. - He isn't pasty, he's just requested to remain "mysterious". Yeah, no wonder I'm not shaving my legs more often. He's damn lucky he's cute!

A.D.H.D. and Laundry

Greetings All!
Today I'd like to share one of my techniques that helps me with my A.D.H.D. (Attention Deficit Housewife Disorder).
The fact that I start one housekeeping project in the middle of performing another has frequently come to bite me in the butt. Fortunately, when it comes to laundry, I've learned a way to master the situation!
My husband is a metro-sexual (VERY particular about fashion, hygiene, etc.). As such, it is always a fuss and a worry come laundry day that I may ruin something precious to him. (read: I have ruined something precious to him.) When it comes to washing his jeans the stress factor goes up a notch because they fit him just right. If the jeans spend too long in the dryer I'm done for. (Okay he's not an OGRE about it, but he does get a little testy.)
Unfortunately the buzzer on our dryer recently stopped working so I now have to listen for the tumbling to stop. The problem? I never really listen. Which means his jeans sit in there for hours. Getting wrinkle-y. And cold. And u.g.l.y.!
The solution? (I'm terribly proud of myself for this idea, by the way.) I remove all clothing besides his dainty denim treasures, I take a spray bottle that contains clean water and spray it inside the dryer all over the jeans. Then I run the dryer again on a quick "fluff". This seems to create enough steam (without too much heat) to create a fresh-out-of-the-dryer-the-first-time-it-stopped look.
And he's none the wiser - man, I love me!

Hugs from the ADD Housewife!!

Things I Learned This Week

The biggest benefit of going to school is that, everyday, one learns a multitude of interesting things. This week, my first week back, I've learned several...
In the writing world I am considered a "plunger", there's a difference between an adjectival prepositional phrase and an adverbial prepositional phrase. I've also learned that paying attention in the grammar classes I took back in elementary school would've been very beneficial to me now. sigh. And finally, I learned that public speaking will not actually kill me. (Although someone should tell my heart that every time I have to give a speech.)
Perhaps the most valuable lesson that I've come to realize is that school is a blessing and not a curse. I've spent many a day fuming because I chose college over motherhood. In moments of extreme pressure and stress that can accompany an academic life, I've often wondered why I chose books over bottles. But the further along this scholastic career goes, the more I've learned about myself and what I'm really about. I have come to discover where my true gifts are, what I can achieve when I actually do apply myself, and I've been fortunate to make some really amazing friends along the way. Years ago if someone would've told me I'd be able to speak French and have the honor of an actual francophone as a very dear friend I'd have thought they were crazy! But look at what this amazing gift has given me! I have the blessing of a reality beyond my imagination and a chance to never have to say..."what if?”
Of course motherhood is still in the distance. Only now I can come to the mat with a full sense of self, and a little “savoir-faire” too.