Monthly Archives: November 2010

Let’s Talk Turkey

Posted in The Saga Continues by

The bounty of Thanksgiving is upon us.

The skies, roadways and railways are full of people journeying to be with loved ones.  Many of us get to indulge in a four day weekend.  Families gather, and kitchens spillover with familiar scents and sounds… pies  (yes, dessert is always first with me), stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, a bird… and ‘da Birds‘, if you’re an Eagles fan.  Love and laughter and leftovers abound.


pink yellow thin line

It’s the time of year most people stop and take inventory of all the blessings in their lives.  I was reflecting on how appreciative and thankful I am.  As evidenced by my prior posts, I have much to be grateful for.  I also thought about manners in general, and I’d like share an observation:  Common courtesy isn’t so common anymore.

I don’t exactly like being circled fitfully and swooped upon like a vulture does its’ prey, but a little eye contact or a smile can go a long way.

Have you ever held a door for someone, only to have them breeze right through like it was your job to forge pathways in their world?  As Ellen would say: “Next time I’ll sprinkle rose petals, your majesty”.  You don’t have to know or even like a person to produce a simple ‘Thank You’.  “Please” works wonders too.  To be fair though, we have no idea what other people are going through at any given moment.  They could be in a deep state of mental confusion, emotional upset, or physical pain.  It’s also possible you are finally meeting a member of that family your mother often referred to… you know, the ones that were ‘raised in a barn’ (where a grunt or head burrowing really does signal gratitude).  While acknowledging a stranger’s thoughtfulness is nice, lack of it doesn’t indicate malice.

It’s a whole different story when personal interaction is on your resume.  Any more it’s the exception not the norm to get good service.  Rude is the new black.  Retail therapy has become retail abuse.  God forbid you actually expect basic manners.  I love it when I approach a sales associate, only to get the stink eye.  How dare I intrude on their personal space.  Clearly, the friend they’re texting or talking to is their employer’s bread & butter.  I should stop being a slacker and learn their stock and policies myself.  If I’m brave enough to slink up to the counter and check out, my patronage is finally rewarded —  they are actually happy to see me go!

I’m not speaking theoretically.  I worked in retail.  Back in the day…

Sidebar:  It’s official.  I’m middle-aged.  I just checked the welcome packet, and sure enough, that phrase is right there on the first page.  Also included:  ‘When I was your age‘, and ‘Someday you’ll understand‘.  Well, at least I can easily locate the packet, and absorb it on my own (alright, damn you, I do need an assist from my reading glasses).  Which leads into the next membership catch-phrase: ‘Why the hell is everything in such small print?’

As I was saying, back in the day, we were actually polite to customers.  Even the bitchy ones.  Sure, they pissed us off, and yes, we ragged on them, but not until after they left, purchases in hand.  We didn’t act like waiting on them was doing them a favor; we knew it was the exact reason we were there and didn’t try to shirk our responsibilities.

Speaking of favors, if someone does one for you, is payback required?  I believe a favor is a donation from the heart, given without expectation, whether it was asked for or freely offered.  It shouldn’t entitle the bearer to put a hash mark under the recipients column, meaning they ‘owe you one’.  If there has to be a one-to-one correlation, then it’s more like a business transaction.  Sorry, but I don’t want that debt hanging over my head.  I want to know when I do a kindness back, it’s because I wanted to please that person, not because payment was due.  Any kind deed should be acknowledged and appreciated, and if you care about someone, you most assuredly will give back.  But doing someone a solid should never be bound by obligation.

Moving on to borrowing.  Seems reasonable, in theory.  However, too may people misuse or abuse it.  Knowing how to do a gainer dive and executing one gracefully are two different things.
“May I borrow a tampon?” = misuse  (unless you’re all kinds of nasty)
“May I have a tampon? I’ll replace it.” = couth  (unless you don’t = mooch —or— repeat this routine monthly = abuse)
“Can I borrow this DVD?” <shrink-wrapped> or “Can I wear this dress?” <pricetag attached> = obtuse
C’mon, the person obviously hasn’t even partaken of this themselves.  I know watching or wearing first doesn’t consume the product, but it’s just not right to ask to break the seal on someone else’s stuff.  If you’re that covetous of an item, buy/rent your own.  Or express an interest; be happy if an offer to lend is made, and pleasant if it isn’t.  Even a new jar of peanut butter has owner privileges.

Sidebar II:  Did anybody else place a premium on being the first to dip into a freshly-opened Jif?  I can remember numerous occasions when we tussled over it.  There is something oddly satisfying about delving into that untouched surface with a smooth knife.  And we really did have to wait for it.  My ever-efficient, non-wasteful mother (bless her heart), could make two sandwiches long after most people would have considered the jar empty and chucked it.  “There’s plenty in here, girls!”, as her arms shook with effort, the squeak of metal scraping glass escalating with our grumbling tummies.  In our house, a container wasn’t empty until it looked like it had been steam-cleaned.

Let’s hit the road.  Sometimes it feels like every driver on the highway is unstable or one row of letters away from legally blind.  I had a professor in college who noted the common definition of yield is: nose it on in as fast as you can. Nothing worse than patiently waiting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, while some asswipe uses the shoulder as his personal conveyor belt, and scoots past everyone to get to the front of the line.  (I also get slightly perturbed with the car that lets this turd merge.)  Look, Jerk Waddington, we have places to be, too.  Another delight:  the person who almost causes an accident due to their own negligence, then shoots you a “WTF?” look, like you were the clueless bastard in this scenario.

It is ludicrous to imagine sharing living quarters with all of the strangers (and even friends) we encounter daily.  Yet we are expected to share many common areas with them in a peaceful co-existence.  Pretty tough when you consider how many different rulebooks are circulating out there.  Our society is not what it used to be.  With all the potential child molesters, rapists, thieves, and other criminals seeking to do us harm (even though they are a small percentage), we are leery of ‘being nice to strangers’.  Most of us have taught our children from early on not to trust someone they don’t know.  And if you are mistrustful by nature, you’re not as likely to interact with the population at large.  Safety is our number one concern, and deservedly so, but unfortunately the days of exchanging pleasantries with any Tom, Dick, or Harry are a casualty.

Sidebar III:  Where are all the Toms & Harrys, anyway?  Seems like I’m always running into Dicks.

pink yellow thin line

Not everyone practices good manners.  Some people are incognizant; some are ignoramuses.  You can’t control others, but you have complete control over how you react to them.  Better to look through rose-colored glasses than see red.

Pinkitude:
“Courtesy is a silver lining around the dark clouds of civilization; it is the best part of refinement, an art of heroic beauty in the vast gallery of man’s cruelty and baseness.” ~ Bryant H. McGill

SPECIAL NOTE: To those who are signed-up for email alerts to my blog, you may have received one last week.  That was an unfinished draft, published in error.  Hence its’ incompleteness & lack of presence on my WordPress page.  If you received the email and have not yet read it, please delete. I am able to edit or delete posts from the blog, however, have no ability to retract emails once they are sent.  The full/final version of that entry will be posted to my blog when it’s complete and timely (sometime in December).

Thank you for reading!  I appreciate your interest.

Impassioned by the pen,
Platinum Pink

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Self-Love 101

Posted in The Saga Continues by

Alright class, listen up.

If you came here expecting a course on masturbation, sorry to disappoint.  I have nothing against that topic, but this is about one’s appreciation for their biological blueprint.  There’s alot more material available on stroking the body than the psyche, so I’m gonna focus on the latter.  Strap-in (not strap-on) as we journey into the epiphanous (not erogenous) zone…

pink yellow thin line

Consider the following:

  • I’m big-boned.
  • I retain water.
  • It’s my monthly bloat.
  • My metabolism is slow.
  • I gain weight just looking at food.
  • I haven’t lost the pregnancy poundage.
  • My scale must be broken.
  • My clothes must have shrunk.

Despite the fanciful array of excuses most women have used at one time or another, the truth is, I have a tendency towards being thick.  Extra cushioning runs in my family.  I’ve tried running from it all my life, but it’s an inescapable fact.  Not to mention tiring; to be constantly running and never reach your destination.  I don’t expect sympathy.  Everyone has their cross to bear.  Bear…. Bear claw!  Dammit to Little Debbie anyway.

I’ll admit it, I love food.  Desserts in particular.  I never met a cookie I didn’t have instant chemistry with, and Ben & Jerry are always whispering sweet nothings in my ear.  I’m also keenly aware of my chromosomal configuration.  It doesn’t take much for me to pack on the el-beez.

I have been dietetically militant and fitness-minded most of my life.  At my lightest, I liked the results, but they weren’t sustainable.  Keeping my body at a lower setpoint than it believes I should be at means two things: 1) I’d have to take up residence in the gym, and 2) I’d have to grow a serious aversion to food, and socializing.  Sorry, but I need my people.  And my chocolate.  Chocolate covered peeps will do in a pinch.

Willpower is a funny thing.  There are times when it’s been stronger than freshly-brewed Starbucks, and other times when it’s hiding somewhere behind that box buried way in the back of the grocer’s freezer (you know, the one no one buys because it’s kinda crumpled and covered in ice crystals).  Most of the time I have stockpiles of won’t-power.  That delectable morsel tantalizing my tastebuds and teasing my tongue seems alot more desirable in the moment than getting back into my skinniest skinny jeans.  Cute catch-phrases and incentivizers like “nothing tastes as good as being thin feels” or “a moment on the lips forever on the hips” — start to become watered down after constant use.  They cease to protect me from the traveling buffet of culinary temptations I encounter daily.  Sometimes you don’t care about the nutrition police; you just want to eat your friggin french fries in peace.

Learning to love yourself instead of wishing you could change is not an easy undertaking.  Your genetic code is written in big black Sharpie marker.  There’s no erasing or eradicating it.  Your personal perspective, however, is all #2 pencil.  You can write, change, revise, overhaul, at will.

I’ve often been bad-mouthed by the critic in the mirror.  You’d think we’d be on the same side, yet day after day she mocks me.  She’s armed and dangerous, with a litany of unflattering terms: thunder thighs, muffin top, bubble butt, turkey arms.
Yet guess who’s the first one to beg me for a muffin when my stomach’s emptied out?  And who’s padded legs take her anywhere and everywhere she wants to go?  And how do you think she’d feel if my jello’d biceps stopped fixing her hair or dressing her in the clothes she likes?  That’s right bitch…. so enough already with the insults.  I would never, ever, let anyone talk to a friend or family member that way.  I would staunchly defend them, admonish the antagonist then deliver a soothing balm of compliments and comfort.  Don’t I owe myself the same?  Am I not worth as much as any other person of value in my life?  I simply can’t allow myself to be the target of such useless negativity.  A good day shouldn’t be predicated on what the scale shows that morning.

I’m not saying people shouldn’t stretch their self-improvement muscles.
Striving to better yourself is critical to happiness, growth, and success.  However, that applies to what you can change, not what you can’t; what’s important to achieve, not what’s immaterial.  Everyone has enviable traits.  The trick is to highlight and build on those, instead of magnifying flaws — real or perceived.  I’m gonna let you in on Victoria’s Secret:  95% of the female population will never look like their catalog models.  Which really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, since 95% of the male population don’t have a carbs chance on Atkins to date someone of that caliber.  (Note: see female odds if you play for the other team).  That means most of us are perfectly matched in our imperfections; a delicious melange of the pears and apples and oranges who comprise the fruit salad of the world.

It’s good to remind oneself, as often as necessary, what truly matters in life.  The size of one’s heart, not frame.  The benefits of friendship, affection, and generosity, not clothing size.  It’s also important to note, one man’s cottage cheese is another man’s cheesecake.  Not every restaurant critic gives five stars to a five star establishment.  Sometimes the palate is most satisfied by the daily special at your local diner.

You can beat yourself down, or build yourself up.  Cajole or condemn.  Make contributions to better the human experience, or belittle it.  It is almost impossible not to feel better when you do a kind deed.  Smile alot.  Laugh more.  Enjoy your own company.  Feel proud of those you’ve helped and what you’ve achieved, then bask in that fresh-from-the-oven goodness.  It’s not cockiness, it’s confidence.  Celebrate.  Joy is contagious.

pink yellow thin line
Nothing makes you stronger than a body double who doubles as your body guard.  Love yourself, and others will follow suit.

Pinkitude:
The person we believe ourselves to be will always act in a manner consistent with our self-image.”
~ Brian Tracy

Impassioned by the pen,
Platinum Pink

Everyone has their cross to bear.  (Damn it all, that just made me think of a bear claw.)