Friends are the people you can call in the middle of the night when you’re in jail. Or ask to come pick you up on the side of the road when your car breaks down. Or help you pull off a gargantuan task you’ve (over)committed to (“Sure I can make homemade chicken salad for 200 by tomorrow”).
That’s what friends are for, right?
Apparently friends perform those functions less and less, as we turn to professionals for meeting our needs.
… Read more What happened to friends?
I was whining about Valentine’s Day in my last post. About it being amateur night and all. I sound like a super-cranky, sour grapes sourpuss (does anyone use that word any more?). And I’m not.
I had a perfectly nice Valentine’s Day (and yet my husband’s and my celebration is yet to come… saving it for the weekend).
My complaint about such Hallmark holidays is that they’re all about the expectations, and then they never match up, and those involved end up feeling crappy about their perfectly good relationships.
… Read more Amateur vs. Professional Lovefests
My son and I used to laugh over a guy we called “mousse man.” His image was often on the cover of romance novels, a collection of which were displayed near the checkout counter of our local public library. When we’d go in to get our fix of Tintin or Where’s Waldo? or The Pennywhistle Party Planner, we’d exclaim over how much mousse “mousse man” had in his hair and how (frankly) creepy it was that his pecs were so prominently and unctuously displayed.
… Read more Nerds and Romance Novels
One of my mantras is “Give me a random Tuesday over a holiday any day.” Which is a grammatically strange mantra, now that I think of it because you can’t really have a Tuesday any day; it has to happen on — well — a Tuesday.
What I mean by that is that “normal” suits me. “Special” is less compelling. And a corollary of that is that normal can be special. Simply because it’s so normal. Or it’s glorious in its normalcy.
… Read more Boring is the New Special