Love is shirt, shirt is love

Dan and I celebrated 9 years of wedded bliss today.  

When I got home today, there was a bouquet of flowers waiting for me on the dining room table.  Beautiful, purchased at Sam's club and stored in a vase we already owned, just like I like.  Savings.

But there was a time that flowers were hard to come by in my house, and as it turns out - it was my fault:

For years after Dan and I started dating/got married, a strange thing would happen every time I did something nice for Dan.  While thanking me, he would say, "I'm gonna get you a shirt." Or, "let's go get you a shirt!"

Finally, one day after Dan made this sort of compliment and offer to me, I asked him,"why do you always tell me you're going to get me a shirt?"

So he explained.  Apparently, at some point shortly after we started dating, a young opinionated version of myself proclaimed, "I think flowers are such a waste of money!"

I went on to tell Dan, "I mean, for that kind of money, I'd much rather have a shirt!"

And so, the idealistic ramblings of a 24-year old Amanda became law for Dan for the better part of a decade.

I do still think if you're gonna spend 40 bucks on something, better to spend it on something that won't end up in the trash in 5 days.  That being said, the roses on my table are very nice.  And so is Dan.

No iPhone Left Behind

I have a huge amount of social anxiety which I can usually mask in short spurts with bravado that leaves me exhausted and nervous that everyone I just interacted with can't stand me. I'm a real treat.

This morning, I had to conduct a Q&A training session in front of around 25 co-workers.  By all accounts, it went fine.  I gave helpful guidance, people asked good questions and when I was finished, they were very kind, thanking me and inviting me back for another future session.

I left feeling really good and they moved on to another training session in the room.  

Then I got to my car and I realized I had left my phone in the conference room.  And I very genuinely considered leaving without it and driving back to my own office without any regard for how I would ever get it back.  All to avoid having to reappear in front of everyone to get it.

Thank God I found it in a small pocket of my purse a few seconds later.

A reminder to make math skills a priority for my children

I just went to McDonald's for a drink.  My change was $2.64 and they were out of dollars in the register.  So the cashier sent a manager for ones. In the meantime, as the line grew behind me, I said, "I'll take quarters for my change, no prob."  

With a stricken look on her face she began counting out coins for my change.  After several seconds she looked at me very earnestly and said,"can we just wait for the ones? I'm bad at counting."  

So we waited for the bills and now I am sad.

A wise rule to live by

I am traveling for work this week and, because the weather is bad and I am slightly afraid of flying, I am feeling tense. Which translates to grouchy.  So imagine my surprise (chagrin) when I found that my gate area is being accosted by a lady troubadour, playing her guitar and singing in that clear, earnest lady tone that is so popular among coffee shops and cereal bar commercials.  So, being the grumpy wart that I am, I tossed a quick text off to my likeminded, sourpuss spirits - my mother and sisters, describing the live music situation in terminal A. This was my sister's prompt response:

"In general, people should not assume that the world will find them delightful."

Which, ironically, delighted me more than anything I've read in a long time.

Some People Are Funny, Some Are Not & Gender Has Nothing to Do with It

I recently switched jobs and will no longer be writing on a daily basis for a news organization.  But I like to write, so I am pledging to (maybe) do a better job of updating this blog in an attempt to keep up with putting thoughts and ideas into printed words. It is an exercise I believe to be important and hope to pass on to my offspring.

So here goes:

Recently, Netflix suggested I watch "Women Aren't Funny," a documentary made by comedian Bonnie McFarland. Since I do everything machines tell me to do, I watched it.

The goal of the film was murky because McFarland admitted to shying away from doing much actual research on the topic, but seemed to take blind stabs at disproving the theory that (see title of doc.)

Why do we continue to validate this notion with soundbites from hilarious women addressing the topic?  Who cares if you can get a string of screechy interviews with self-loathing male comedians eschewing the worth of female stand-ups?  In the words of the fantastic Amy Poehler and quoted by Tina Fey, "I don't f---ing care if you like it."

Here's a theory of mine: Country pop music is pandering, monotonous crap. Lots of people agree with me, as noted by the amazing YouTube mash-ups proving my point.  Still, that doesn't stop it from being a billion-dollar industry and somehow I doubt Florida-Georgia Line is going to take time out of their profitable touring schedule to offer a soundbites about how I'm wrong and people should stop saying it.

So instead of shaky-shooting your way through a fumbling documentary - in which you use a confusing amount of footage of your stand up comedian husband - and demanding female comics be validated, why not just admit that we don't actually care whether idiots and have idiotic opinions?

The world does not work in absolutes. Many comics aren't funny.   Many are. And what equipment is lurking in their underpants offers no clues as to who is who.

Go see funny comedians.

Bed Time: Mom Versus Dad

Last night I had dinner with some friends, leaving Dan to put Ed to bed.  Normally, the bed time ritual is:  I get Ed ready for bed and Dan actually puts him down.  But, since I was gone, Dan tackled both tasks. When I got Ed up in the morning, I noticed the vast difference between our definitions of what this means.

Mom gets Ed ready:

Wash face, hands, feet
Brush teeth
Change diaper
Change into jammies

Dad gets Ed ready:

Make sure diaper is dry
Take off pants

Only One Chance to Make a First Impression

Today, I arrived at work just as one of the many corporate engineers was leaving.  These guys have been here helping out as our station transitions to high definition and changes locations.  They are basically strangers to me.  But this man was nice enough to wait and hold the door for me.

As I passed him, I waved, smiled and said thank you - so friendly.  He gave me a weird look and did not return a greeting or hand gesture.

"What's HIS problem," I thought as I headed to my desk and put my stuff down.

It was then I noticed my shirt had ridden up about 7 inches, exposing a good portion of my large 6 months pregnant belly.

Nice.