Silver Linings

There is a notion called a “Silver Lining” meaning when something goes wrong or something bad happens, something good comes out of it. Today, as I drove home on the freeway, I reminded myself of this notion. Moments earlier, I stepped out of a meeting that didn’t go as planned, a proposal I waited for almost a year to present did not meet the approval I hoped. In the first ten minutes or so, I maintained my composure, smiled and politely thanked people for their time. Thirty minutes later, clutching the steering wheel, my mind raced looking for answers and the notion of a “Silver Lining” popped into my head. Aha, I thought, there is a “Silver Lining” in all this. Instead calling a colleague to complain, I convinced myself the “Silver Lining" lures in the unknown, it’s here, close, nearby, I can almost put my finger on it. Maybe not today or tomorrow but soon the “Silver Lining” will show up, probably when I least expect it. It could be my time will be so consumed with other more important projects leaving no time for new ones or I’ll be on vacation for an extended period of time in Hawaii with my family. Maybe, this time next week my column will go in syndication leaving little time for anything else. Whatever the case, I am feeling much better already.

The Ex and the Obituary

The Ex and the obituary. One day during another animated day of revelation chit chat with Ria, the Queen of BJ's, I asked if her ex-husband was still alive. Why did I query her exes mortality? In recent conversations his name came up as an wife abuser, drug addicted, alcoholic, loser, etc. Get the picture. A not so nice guy. A life so fuel infested with trouble cannot sustain a healthy existence and I wondered aloud if he was alive? Like the movie "Enough" or "Sleeping with the Enemy" the bad guy gets his due in the end, to the delight of women everywhere, especially those abused women. With this in mind, I figured this guy met his demise.

She chuckled with her shoulders and she replied in her witty and affable demeanor: "Everyday I read the obituaries and have not come across his name yet." For a woman of sixty-five who married at sixteen and had five children by twenty-two and divorced the same year, she is by far the wittiest person that came across my plate. She is a chapter onto herself.

The Ex and the obituary. Or instead of op-ed called it op-dead for First Wives clubs. Reading the obituaries will never be the same.

Patricia Mary Shelly, the neighbor from hell

The other day without notice my ugly nosy imposing neighbor showed up uninvited. Every time I see this lady she gets on my nerves, under my skin and puts me in a foul mood. It's not until it's past the point of overstaying her welcome does she depart. The remains of her visit are tension that you can cut with a knife and a slew of unkind remarks, mostly directed at Hot Husband. Not only does she criticize everything he does but at times is even short with my boys. If she is particularly feisty she picks on my sisters. This woman is unrelenting and she comes around monthly. Before I realize it, she is spinning out of control in my home. For the longest time her unexpected visits took me by surprise. Only while cleaning up the emotional debris she left behind did I figure her out.

Better equipped to tackle her, the moment she is in the vicinity I let Hot Husband know and pop a couple of Midols. Her name is PMS or Patricia or Mary or Shelly. Her name is not what matters, it's her onslaught of emotional yo-yo"ing" she puts me through. In my twenties and even my early thirties Patricia Mary Shelly didn't visit often. The times she graced me with her presence were subdued compared to now. For the past five years or so, Patricia Mary Shelly reeks havoc once a month in my home. From hot to cold emotions, self-pity episodes to chocolate craving, PMS creeps up and visits for one to three days, always uninvited. Only close to her departure do I realize the havoc she causes. I promise Hot Husband advance notice when she visits but most times she's unexpectedly arrives.

To combat her intrusiveness I focus on the present constantly reminding myself she visits only once a month. Recognizing some of the symptoms early helps too. As many can attest the real issue is that ugly neighbor Patricia Mary Shelly shows up unexpected and uninvited, sometimes instantly, leaving little room for preparation. Lately I am able to shorten her visits and lessen her spew by checking the calendar and being vigilant with positive thoughts and a keen sense of awareness. And Midol. Have a great day.

BJ's

I only encountered two women who truly enjoy giving blow jobs and proud of it. One is fictional, Samantha Jones from Sex In The City and Ria, an old employee I ran into today. Samantha Jones loves giving head. I remember tuning into Sex in the City years ago to see what all the hype was about only to watch her give a blow job. I gave the show another try only to find Samantha below the belt again. Queasy and a little uncomfortable I tuned out until the last season of the show. The prude in me came out. Today, as a group of women from twenty to sixty five years of age chatted, Ria spoke candidly about her genuine pleasure in giving head. Initially, a little taken back but not as prudish, I listen as she narrated her sexual habits to us. Looking around for us to add in, I mentioned to Ria my sex life was private and not for sharing but by all means continue. My image of her shattered on this late blossoming fall day and I let her know it. Once thought of as meek and gentle now turned into 60 year old version Samantha Jones. She went on to tell how she got a free pizza on a bet. This one I am not kidding came straight from her mouth.... At a house party years ago, the group decided to order pizza and she bet it would be free. As the pizza arrived she answered the door nude to the stunned delivery boy's delight, explaining she didn't having any money on hand. He nervously fidgeted from foot to foot, she offered to give him a blow job in exchange for the pizza, caught completely off guard he put his hands up in despair, declined her offer, gave her free pizza and left. She won the bet and went on the give head to the host. To the delight of most men, blow jobs are one of the ultimate sexual pleasures. For women I imagine it's like doing the laundry, it sucks, literally, but someone has to do it. For a lot of us it's a great bargaining tool!

Best Teacher Ever

Do you have a favorite teacher? National Teachers Day always makes me think of my past teachers and the favorite ones. I have many, my grade two teacher Mrs. Montour, my grade five Mrs. Goodleaf, my coolest ninth grade Ms. McInerny, my tenth Mr. Mills, the list goes on. But the best teacher is one who gave me the piece of advice: "Keep it short, people like short and sweet" and "You can do anything you want as long as you put your mind to it." Her impact on me spans my lifetime, she is my mom. One of the wisest women of her era, many would agree. She told me things at a young age I didn't want to understand and made choices for me I thought were cruel at the time. But here I am keeping things short and sweet and finally realizing when I put my mind to it I can do anything. Thanks mom.