Just the way things are

***I will preface this post by adding that nothing went wrong in my personal life, and that I am totally in love with my husband. I'm not even pissed off, really.

It's just an observation in general***

_______

.

Most women are bitches. Me included. The reason I can admit that is because I believe society requires us to be this way. I think in order to be a carreer woman nowadays, you sometimes have to be comfortable with being labeled a bitch.

-

"Nice" women don't wear suits. They bake cookies.
-
We are taught very early on to be nice. To share. To not tattle tale. And above all, to play well with others. While our mothers were molding us into "nice" girls, our brothers were dirty, rough-playing little shits who got away with most things.
-
Our mothers meant well, but it does not do us justice in the real world. A women needs to be strong and kind, both at once. Gentle and firm. Only then, will you not get trampled on by men.
-
And speaking of men, (and I do like to speak of men often) I am often perplexed by them. They work hard to woo an independant woman. Maybe harder than they should. They make it their goal to "break through" some make believe barrier to be the one successful suitor in her life.
-
And finally, when the woman falls in love with him and willingly gives up all others for him, then...
-
He becomes an ass.

Just a littly PUSHY?

.

This article about "push presents", which ran in last Thursday's NY Times, has been forwarded to me by a dear friend who knows how to get my panties in a twist. Titled "A bundle of joy isn't enough?", the piece focuses on the practice of men giving their birthing wives /girlfriends gifts (often referred to as "Push presents", which I find a particularly revolting term) as a way to celebrate the birth and show their appreciation for everything the mom endured.

.

The piece suggests that many women have come to expect these gifts, though some women interviewed say they feel such an expectation is silly. Some men interviewed say they are cool with giving such gifts, while others apparently think such a practice is ludicrous.

.

What the hell? My friend (who is now a first time mom to be) is undecided on where she stands on this issue. I, however am not so reserved.

.

I cannot believe that women a)would expect or b) accept anything called a PUSH PRESENT.

.

To me, that is more insulting than anything. I am not saying that after 17 hours of pushing I wouldn't want a nice pair of diamond earings, but are you kidding me?!

.

What does the card read? "Thanks for pushing. You're swell!"

Maybe it's just me. I never got a push present for my kids.
But what the hell do I know? We got divorced, maybe that was the golden ticket?

Merry Christmas

Wishing you a wonderful next few days!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you.

too politically correct

.

Today I took the kids to the mall to buy kid suitcases. (We're going on a trip with them to Disneyland next May, and they got to each choose a suitcases as part of their Christmas gift)
.

So there we are, in the midst of mall santas and over caffeinated shoppers, having just completed our purchase, when my youngest says Merry Christmas to the sales lady as we walk away.

.

Now what would you think the correct response would be such a sentiment from a 5 year old? A smile, and a nod, perhaps a "merry christmas to you too" back?
.

NOPE.
.
She told my 5 year old: " You should say happy holidays, since not everyone celebrates Christmas".
.
My daughter just looked at her with a blank expression on her face.Then she looked up at me. I could see the sales person waiting for me to echo her sentiment, and to use this opportunity to teach my child the 'correct' way to greet someone during December.
.

Instead I am going to teach her how to distinguish old bags from regular people.
.

Having a discussion about politically correct Christmas greetings is not a discussion I want to have with my children. In fact it ranks right up there with the conversation about why Jake in her class has two daddys.
.

It's not something I'm getting into with 5 year olds.
.

Here's my question to you:
.

How far are we going with this politically correct crap? You tell me! Why can' t a child say "merry Christmas" to another without being given a lecture? Why are we being sensored?
.

I don't get it.
.

Even if someone else doesn't celebrate Christmas, that doesn't mean we have to hide the fact that we do. Why would that even be offensive to someone? It shouldn't be.
.

It's not like I'm putting someone else's beliefs down.
.

I can talk like this because I experienced first hand what it is like to move here, and be a minority. I came to this country when I was 14. I had to learn a different language, different customs and different traditions. I have never felt insult if a tradition was different than mine. I was the one who moved here, if I didn't like it tough! After all, I chose to move here!
.

And that is exactly why I hate how careful we've become as a nation to not offend any minorities with our opinions, our traditions and our culture. You know what? Most people who moved here from another country, have had bigger problems than being offended by someone celebrating Christmas!
.

I refuse to teach my children to apologize for who they are. That doesn't mean I don't want them to be sensitive to others, it just means they don't have to be scared of sharing their opinions too.

sluts or skanks? Neither, just a new girl

Yes, I am referring to our new employee we just hired. Lovely lovely girl, all of 19 year old and more flakey than the snowflakes in my backyard.

But it's not in a bad way, just amusing. I have a window in my office so I get to watch the interaction daily. Have I mentioned I work in a mostly male field? (only male workers, only male clients) I am -should correct that, was- the only female there.

In walks Stacey. Let's call her that because you won't know if it's real or not anyway :-)

Fresh young meat. You could see the guys, circling like vultures.

Yup, circling.

So, like a bad accident, I watch. I pause and I look out my window.

Here, I'll draw a picture for you:

19, young and blonde. Her wardrobe must be left over from her last job as a call girl, because all she wears is skin tight shirts and short short skirts. When she wears jeans they're super low cut. So you have no choice but to notice her, um assets.

She's sweet as pie, but clueless. Men have two views to choose from. If they're in front of her, and she's at the desk -while they are standing mind you- they get to look down her shirt. If they're behind her, watching her lean over her desk, they get to see the pretty rhinestones in her g-string.

Win win situation for all.

Except that my boss is now asking ME to address this delicate situation, and to 'take her under my wing' so I can help her fit in better. He means make her more prude-ish like me :-)

Now I am not one to be at a loss for words, but I don't want to be the one telling her anything. And that guy in the office upstairs, I don't want to talk to him about deodorant either!! There are just some things that cannot be brought up delicately.

Hmmm... maybe if I am her "Secret Santa" and buy her a sweater, maybe that'll work!

Are we 20 something?

This weekend was one of the funnest weekends in a long time.

It was our company's long awaited Christmas party (yes, a little early). Each year, the boss invites all of us and our families to Whistler. For those of you who are not familiar with Whistler, here's a hint: it's where part of the 2010 Winter Olympics will be held, they are co-hosting with Vancouver.

It's a winter wonderland resort, about 1.5 hours away from here.

...

Each year he splurges on this fantastic trip and we all look forward to it. This year was especially great since all of us were either newlyweds or recently engaged. So we were looking forward to spending some quality time with some adults our age.

On Friday night after we got there we took care of

business first:

.

1. Check into the suite.

2. Go to village and find booze.

.

Once we've successfully completed our mission in the village, we headed back to the hotel for the hot tubs outside. It felt like frostbite on my feet just walking to them outside -remember it's snowing in Whistler- but once inside the hot tub, all was well.

Here is where we stopped acting like 30-somethings and turned back into 20 year olds.

Someone mentioned a small get together in room 619. Sure we went.

And here are some picture from this very mature event:

...

The girls before we got hammered. After a lot of drinks later....it looked like a frat party

...
Us girls sitting on one of the girls husbands after one too many drinks. And here is a close up of the poor guy's face in case you missed it

Jp had the girls going wild for him

We went back to our room around 3am, in pretty rough shape.

I wish I had a picture to describe what happened next. I passed out on the bed, while JP was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. By the time he came back out, I guess the distance to the bed seemed too long, because he only made it half way there.

He woke up in the middle of the night to find himself -still fully clothed- halfway on the bed. His head and torso had reached the end of the bed, but sadly the rest of him didn't. He woke up with the lower part of his body still kneeling on the floor, beside the bed.

Now that is drunk.

Bigaffes and Hostables

I have just opened my Christmas present. Yup, my Christmas present. Jp, bless his soul, bought me something awesome, and me, being the wicked witch of the west, made him show me what it was. Hehe.

It's a brand new freakin' laptop. I've been having computer problems lately...or haven't you noticed? It's fantastic. And portable. (a key element in a laptop, I must say) Sure am glad JP fessed up. I hate surprises, even good ones. Aren't I a drag?

I should tell you about my absentee blog-ism as of late. (new word I've just made up) Because we're so smart, we decided to play 'trading spaces' / 'musical chairs' at our house. Oh yeah, just before the holidays seems like a perfect time to renovate every single room of the home. My son moved into a brand new room that we added on, so we had drywallers and flooring installers here last month. Then of course we had to paint. (by we I mean I) Cunning as I am, I convinced my son it looks fantastic with just one wall painted, and left the other three the way they were.

My daughter -who up to now shared a room with her brother - got our bedroom. (the kids had the master bedroom before, and our room was smaller) But now that he has his own room, and she didn't want to stay in the big room all alone, she also moved into a new room. Our old one. More painting, furniture shopping/assembling, and hair pulling -by me~

Only for lack of options, we ended up in the kids old room ...which origianlly was the master bedroom, it's huge and it's got great potential. But now, after doing the kids rooms we're exhausted, and want a break from painting/renovating. So, we've decided we'll not paint til the new year.

Too bad the kids room was multicolored. One wall yellow, one lime green one blue and one pink. I think I know what it feels like to be on acid now. Wanna try? Come over and try and sleep in my bedroom.

It sure does bring me back though, staring at those walls. (no no, not to the time I did mushrooms in highschool) but to the days when they were little. And when they used to talk like little kids: Bigaffe and Hostable. (my daughter couldn`t say giraffe and hospital for the longest time, and now being in their room makes me long for the days when she used to talk like that.)


So there you have it boys and girls, I`m back and I`m sitting in my psychadellic room on my new laptop.

Poor JP, I wonder what he`s gonna buy me for Christmas next?