Cindy's World

Archive for May, 2013

I read an article in USA Today that stated even though travelers today have smartphones with alarm clocks more and more hotels are giving wake-up calls a personal touch. The Westin Resort and Casino, Aruba gives a wake-up call and someone goes to your room and knocks to make sure your up. At Las Ventanas al Paraiso, Los Cabas, a butler shows up at your door to wake you up with free, tea, coffee and breakfast breads.

My mother had her own unique way of waking up me and my siblings on a Saturday morning. She’d fling open the bedroom door and barrel in with the
vacuum cleaner – ON. Yes, that was her way of saying, “Rise and shine.” It was our alarm clock telling us to stop wasting the day (6 a.m.) and get going. Her
motto could have been ‘I do more by 8 a.m. than you do all day. It didn’t matter it was the weekend and had no school. It didn’t matter it was rainy and
had no place to go. We had to get going. I was going once the vacuum bumped my bed. We’d jump up and grab the closest thing and start dusting. It could have been a rag. It could have been a spatula. I was never sure as my eyes were always closed. Although at times the spatula did look kind of questionable.

I promised myself when I was an adult I planned to sleep as late as I wanted. My first born daughter had other plans. She planned to start my days at 5:30 in the morning, every morning. I went from waking at 6 to waking at 5:30. I didn’t think it could get worse. She made me long for the days I slept to 6.

I’ve had vacuum cleaners and crying babies wake me up; but at least I didn’t need to dust the baby. I’ve never needed an alarm clock. I plan to one day go somewhere and wake up peacefully, by a butler, serving me breakfast in bed. Why, I might plan on inviting him in that is if he doesn’t have a vacuum cleaner in hand.

I read a magazine that listed nine tips to having a hot summer fling with the guy you’ve already got, and for me, since George Clooney hasn’t called me yet, that would be my husband.

Let’s review some tips together. One tip was – make out in the back row of a movie theater. We did that while dating. Now that we’re married if we’re going to get off the couch and spend 100 bucks to see a movie, by golly we’re going to watch the movie.

Another tip – share a milkshake. That’s not gonna happen if the milkshake’s chocolate.

The last tip I’ll mention – dedicate an entire day of being naked together. Again – that’s not gonna happen on account of I’ve had to many milkshakes.

Basically, all these tips advise you to flirt with your spouse or mate.

Recently Virgin America Airlines has made it easy for singles (and unhappily married people) to flirt while flying. It’s called In-Flight-Flirting. With In-Flight-Flirting every seat comes with a screen that lets passengers send a drink and text messages to other passengers you find attractive. This is a great idea if the girl you send a drink to welcomes the opportunity to flirt, but if the girls’ not interested things can get hairy. Where does one hide on a plane? She can’t walk through the door and leave as though she’s in a bar. She can’t go to the bathroom and climb out a window as though she’s in a bar. Climbing out on the wing is frowned upon. She can’t go to the cockpit and sit on the pilots lap. I mean she could and he’d probably enjoy it, but that’s not the point. The girl has no place to hide if the guy gets pushy and arrogant. Planes, unlike bars do not have bouncers.

What she could do is get the married guy she’s been texting and flirting with to pretend he’s her husband and take care of Mr. Pushy. At this point a ruckus will ensue, the plane will be diverted, forced to land and the three parties involved will be kicked off. In national news it will become known as the ‘Case of in-flight-flirting gone horribly wrong.’

Before you dive into a pool this summer keep in mind an article that ran in USA Today which reported a new study found telltale signs of feces in more than half of pools sampled. DNA was found from E. coli bacteria.

After the movie JAWS came out people were afraid to go in the water. After this survey people will be afraid to go in their local pool. It’s a toss-up between swimming with feces or swimming with sharks.   It’s a hard decision.

I’m sure some of the feces found in the pools were not from humans alone, but from animals as well. I’ll explain.  Yesterday, my husband and I were in our car
when a bird crapped on the windshield. So, if birds poop on moving objects they would most certainly poop on stationary objects, like pools. Naturally if birds
poop in pools then certainly flies must poop in pools.

For the safety of mankind any creature that flies should be made to wear a diaper. I know it’s unrealistic. Why, can you imagine a mama fly trying to diaper a baby fly. “Now, Jimmy stop flapping your wings and be still so Mama can change your diaper.” Just imagine how hard it would be to diaper a fly. They don’t make diapers that small. But, it sure would be nice if the next time you’re in car your car you see a fly with a diaper and know he won’t leave
his mark.

But since flies don’t wear diapers we have pools filled with human feces, fly feces and we have kiddie pools where kids would rather eat a fly than a carrot. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather take my chances and swim in open waters with a man eating shark.

To Grandma’s We Go

Beginning July, in China, parents can sue kids who don’t visit often enough. This law enforces the Chinese tradition that the young care for their elders. The law does not specify how often the kids must visit, but it does require employers to grant leave.

I want to know if this law is based on a verbal or written agreement stating a certain number of visits per year. What if the adult child refuses to be pressured into visiting his parents stating the reason, “I do not like you. I will not visit.” Does this clear him from any obligation or can he be taken to court? These questions must be asked.

Growing up we lived in an apartment building with my grandmother right next door. We didn’t have an agreement (verbal or written) as to number
of weekly visits. The visits were daily and multiple. We were in and out of each other’s apartment. There was no, ‘let’s clean before Grandma gets here; ‘Grandma was always here. There was no invitation Grandma had to RSVP to. Grandma issued her own invitation.

With relatives living in such close quarters the question becomes – how close is to close? Do private family squabbles (not posted on FB) become extended family squabbles? When adult children move back home the situation may become sticky. When your son is going out for the night you refrain from giving him a curfew as he’s 40. When your daughter gets a tattoo to show support for her boyfriend just released from prison, you remain silent as after all, she is 50. When your unemployed, sloppy kids throw a party while you’re on vacation you refrain from taking away their car as you wish they’d get in their car and drive. You wish they’d drive far, far away to a place far from you. This living situation was a little too close for comfort.

Summer is approaching, the time of year when we’ll be subjected to men wearing socks with sandals. I’m convinced these men don’t own a mirror. Some men always wear socks, whether or not they should. Some people never wear socks even when they should, like working out at the gym and sweating profusely. I’ll see somebody at the gym, running on the treadmill with sweat dripping down their back, their legs and into their sneakers. Without socks to absorb the moisture the sneaker becomes a breeding ground for bacteria. In this situation a man needs to wear a sock.

There are two types of people when it comes to folding socks: those who fold socks into a ball and those who fold socks in half. When it comes to the sock drawer you have two types of people: those who toss the socks in Willey Nilley and those who organize the drawer. I fold rather than roll and I organize according to the seasons. Wintertime my heavy, long socks are front and center. Summertime my ankle height sport socks are front and center. My peds
are side-by-side my sport socks. My sport socks are in two piles – lightweight and heavy duty cotton. My winter socks are also divided into two piles – warm,
woolen socks that I usually wear around the house and my trouser socks that I wear with dress pants when going out. Then I have Christmas socks which are
grouped in the winter section.

When it comes to putting on socks and shoes, once again there are two types of people. You have the person who puts on sock, sock, shoe, shoe. And you have the person who puts on sock, shoe, sock, shoe. I usually put on sock, shoe, sock, shoe. But, sometimes as I’m lacing up I think if my house suddenly caught fire I’d be forced to run into the street with one sock and shoe on, making running hard to do. Being off balance would impede the pace at which I’d be able to flee from the house. Yet, if I had on sock, sock I would be able to flee easily and seek safety. Sometimes I think if I forgot the socks and just wore sneakers then not only could I run from house fire, but I could run quickly. I could run all the way to the gym if I wanted to, jump on the treadmill and become one of those people who make me wonder why they don’t wear socks. Now that I think about it, it all makes sense.

You Can Have It

My husband came home with a box of donuts. He told me, “You could have the jelly,” since that’s my favorite and there was only one. I thanked him and told him I would eat it later. The next morning I walked into the kitchen and saw him eating the jelly donut. “Why are you eating my jelly donut?” I asked. “You said you would eat it and you didn’t; so I’m eating it,” he said shoving jelly into his mouth. “I said that less than twelve hours ago. I didn’t know when you offered it to me I had a time limit. I planned on eating it for breakfast, just like you’re doing.” “Oh, I saw it sitting there and thought you changed your mind.” “No, I didn’t change my mind. Next time you offer me something I’ll inquire about the expiration date. “ “Would it make you feel better if I let you eat the blob of jelly that fell onto my plate? It’s yours. You can have it.” “And, if I say ‘Yes,’ how long do I have before I must eat it – ten, twenty or thirty seconds?” “No time limit.” Yeah, right, I think to myself.  I’ve learned when my husband says, “You can have it,’ it means get it before time’s up. When other people say,
“You can have it,” it means something entirely different.

Have you ever helped a friend who’s moving sort through her belongings? You’re in her attic and find a pair of skis. “I didn’t know you skied,” you tell your friend. “I tried it once, when I dated Roy. I broke my leg when I hit the tree. Luckily I was able to hold onto the tree when the avalanche happened. I never skied or saw Roy again after that. He fell in love with the girl who rescued him from being buried six feet under. Good riddance. I forgot I had those skis. Anyway you can have them.  If you don’t want them I’ll just throw them out. It’s you or the garbage.” What do you say to such an offer other than, “Thank
you?”

Have you ever helped a friend looking to wear the perfect outfit for a date sort through her clothes? As you rummage through her organized closet – short sleeve blouses  together, long sleeve blouses together and color coordinated – yellows with yellows and blues with blues. When you realize her colored skirts are organized according to the days of the week – such as magenta for Monday and turquoise for Tuesday, you conclude your friend’s organizational method may border a bit on the anal side and she makes way more money than you.

Anyway as you breeze through her summer collection over to the winter collection you stop at a blouse in the fall department. It’s fall because of the ¾ sleeves. “I’ve never seen you wear this before. It’s beautiful,” you tell your friend. “If you like it, you can have it. It doesn’t go with anything from my fall collection. I don’t know why I bought it and held onto it all these years. I hope there are no moth holes in it. So, if you want it, it’s yours. It’s you or the garbage.” What do you say to an offer that makes you feel special other than, Thank you?”

With offers such as these I recognize that no time or effort went into them and accept them for what they are – people trying to get rid of junk. When I get an offer from my husband I recognize it comes with a time limit and I must move fast. I’ve accepted the fact no offer’s perfect.