"Cell Phone Etiquette" - MORE STUFF I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO TELL YOU

Dude.

Put your phones DOWN.

Just oh. my. gosh.

I know it's been said before (a lot), but I figured that having reached nearly 50 years (which qualifies as "super old" to my 80s-teenager brain), I should add my voice, as part of that generation who has the distinction of being able to say we remember when people used to just have a phone at their house.  Tethered to the actual damn wall, by a cord...usually in the living room, where everyone in the house and possibly the neighborhood (if you had a party line, like us bumpkins), could hear every word you said.

We also remember, even further back in the mists of time, when -- if someone you loved was far away -- we'd get out a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope and WRITE THEM A LETTER.  Then we had to swipe a stamp from mom's purse and walk it all the way out to the actual mailbox.  Clear Outside.  And then go inside and wait for like 2-4 weeks to get an answer, unless the person decided not to write back, or didn't have time, or forgot about you (kind of like texting nonresponders nowadays, only way more depressing and time-consuming).

Anyhoooo

What was my point?

Oh, right.  Cell phones.

So, having said all that, what the heck, you guys.  We need some guidelines about when is, and when is NOT, an okay time to have your cell phone in front of your face.  I'll go first, and we'll see how long the list gets.  I'm not promising you "Top Ten" or anything, I'm just gonna go, in order of how they come to me.  Ready?

*inhales*

1.  NO CELL PHONES ON DATES.  Ever.  Not with boyfriends, husbands, acquaintances, friends, blind dates, lunch meetings, happy hour, or any other time where you are sitting with actual humans who drove in a car to a place to meet you, in person.  Phones need to stay, turned OFF and out of sight, for the whole time.  Not on the table.  Not in your lap.  Not in your hand.  Unless you have an elderly or young person who may or may not be bleeding out their eyes from a kitchen-related incident caused by your absence, you do NOT need to hear from anyone for that hour.  I mean it.  There is not one single damn thing that can't wait another half hour until you get back in your car to check your messages, texts, emails, Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat.  And if you check those things while I happen to be sitting across from you, I reserve the right to throw a drink in your face.  And you're buying.  That should be the new rule.  Check your phone = picking up the tab for the whole table.  Or maybe that's been done already.  I have no idea- I gave up on Internet news and Facebook like 3 years ago.

2.  NO CELL PHONES WHEN VISITING SOMEONE'S HOUSE.  Not for a party, not for a hangout, not for the Superbowl, and certainly not for a meal.  No phones.  Leave them in your car, and go outside to check them if you're that interested in what everyone who isn't at this place is doing right exactly now.

3.  NO CELL PHONES WHILE CONVERSING WITH A PERSON IN PERSON.  Oh, no, you did not just actually glance at your phone while I was talking, did you?  DID YOU??  *smack*  No.  Do not do that.  I promise you that stupid Vine video will still be there in ten minutes when we're done interacting in person.  You look at that screen one more time while I'm talking and I will pull a hammer out of my purse and give it a good bash.  See if Instagram can filter that mess.

4.  NO CELL PHONES IN AIRPORT WAITING AREAS OR SHOPPING LINES (or any other place people congregate to wait).  Oh...my...GOSH.  So much no right here.  No one wants to sit across from you while you yack loudly on your phone about your date last night, your current Facebook fight with some troll, your new Samsung product, your business meeting this morning, that one party ( 'member that one time...?), or how you spent the morning cleaning cat puke off the kitchen floor.  Stand up and go somewhere else, for the love.  How in the world have we become a society who thinks it's OK to force everyone around you to listen to your convo at top volume.  I can't tell you how many times I have had to get up and walk to another place to sit, because some dumbass won't stop shouting into his phone, sitting right against me in an airport waiting area.  Good Lord.  Do you actually not notice the other humans around you right now? Go away.

5.  NO CELL PHONES ON SPEAKERPHONE UNLESS YOU ARE DISABLED AND HAVE LOST THE USE OF YOUR ELBOWS IN A FREAK HAY BALING ACCIDENT.   This is for all you super-cool hotties out there who walk around holding your phone in front of your mouth like it's a piece of pizza you're about to bite into...speaking into it from a distance and forcing everyone else within a grocery-store-sized radius to listen in to every word of your oh-so-important chat about that girl last night with those pants, what was she thinking, omg girl, IKR, WTH.  I'd love to accidentally ram these people from behind with a shopping cart and knock their iphone 17.5 into the frozen foods exhaust fan.  Why in the heck must we listen to that?

I seriously remember when we used to leave the house, drive to town, go to school, the post office (yes), the grocery store, or go out for the whole night,  and our only phone was still back at the house, tethered to the wall.  And we were FINE.  We learned how to navigate with maps.  We learned to be responsible and tell someone "I'll meet you in the parking lot, by the big tree, at 4 p.m.", and we'd actually just be there.  No one got lost.  No one got left (well, sometimes we did, but that was only that one time when Mom was just done with our BS).  We could go to the fair with a big group and split up, and no one got lost, or trampled by a rampaging alpaca, or starved to death wandering hopelessly with no idea what to eat for lunch.  We didn't take 45 selfies for posterity, in our fake cowgirl outfits. We'd separate and make a plan (you remember those?), and we'd all meet back up, in the parking lot, by the big tree, at 4 p.m.

Where's Waldo...80's Edition.

                                               
And when we got home, if we were richie-rich enough to afford one of those cool new answering machines, we could check our messages by pressing a button, and see who, if anyone, had tried to reach us while we were not at home.  And if there was an emergency, well, yeah, they happened.  But the world didn't stop turning because we missed the call.

I remember taking whole entire road trips, across a whole entire state, with nothing but a suitcase and the car keys.  We thought it was a stretch to have to tell someone "Hey, we're driving to Seattle tonight, should be home Sunday."  It was enough.  Conversely, if we didn't make it home, from wherever, the people who loved us knew when that time-frame had elapsed where it was time to jump in the car and go looking around for us, or start calling our friends or their parents or our work, to see who'd seen us last, and where.  And that was enough, too.  We all survived.

We also did NOT need to see what everyone in our entire high school was doing, in real-time, every minute of the weekend.  Oh my gosh, that would have ruined life.  If you liked a boy, and you didn't see him at the local hangout on Saturday night...you didn't have the option to stalk him and several girls you hate on Facebook, only to find out (wailing) ...that they're all together right now omgwhyyyyy.  You'd have to fret and wonder all weekend, and then at school on Monday, you'd hear from a girl who heard from her sister, who heard from her boyfriend, who was friends with that guy you like, that he was at so-and-so's house this weekend and it looked like he was talking to whatshername and they may have left together and now your high school life is overrrrrrrr.

(Also, we didn't commit crimes over these facts, but that's another topic...)

Ok, that's my basic list of, ummm, five cell phone etiquette rules.  Feel free to add on from there...

I'm crazy about the lady in front.  Just...taking it in.  Love it.  

Images courtesy of smash.com and google images.

More Parenting Tips I Should NOT Have to Point Out. But I Will.

*clears throat and assumes Andy Rooney voice*



I'll try and keep this short.

Hahahahahaaaajustkidding.  You know I totally won't.

For my birthday last weekend, we decided to go out for a nice dinner at our favorite local steakhouse, where I happened to have a coupon for a free entree (up to $20.99 or less, and good luck finding a steak for that price).  My standing joke at ALL restaurants any more is just, please, don't let there be anyone there wearing a tiara.  Which is kind of another post, but picture, if you will--that group of over-done, over-made-up, over-dressed, overly-loud 40-something divorcees who've had that onnnne too many glasses of wine and it's somebody's birthday so WOO-HOOO I'M WEARING A TIARA Y'ALL.  *clinks glass*

This bunch...

Yeah.  Usually the table next to them is...us.

*eye roll*

Anyway, it's gotten so that when I make reservations somewhere, I specifically request to NOT be seated by any large tables or any large parties or anyone wearing a tiara, because just once I'd like to get through a meal without being forced to listen to the above too-loud ladies discussing life at too many decibels and with way too many "woo-hoos", plus the sudden random group of servers who come out, clapping and singing and sometimes wearing sombreros and/or carrying sparklers.

Guys.  I just want to enjoy a quiet dinner, k?

So, last weekend's dinner was going great until dessert-menu time.  I had actually just mentioned, "Hey...no tiaras so far" and kind of *high-fived* Shane.  Then, the servers started unfolding the table extensions at two tables next to us and sliding two smaller tables...together.  Uh-oh.

Sure enough, as soon as the tables merged into one big 10-seat table, a pile of gifts and balloons suddenly materialized in the center.  Me and Shane started giving each other the side-eye.

The family arrived, comprised of maybe 4 adults and about 300 small children.  Ok, it was more like 5 + one in a car seat, but still.  Me and Shane started giving them the side-eye.

They got seated and the small boy in the chair closest to our table immediately whips out an iPhone 12.5 or whatever and starts playing a video game, because of course a birthday party with balloons and streamers and gifts isn't nearly interesting enough to hold his attention for 3 minutes.  We start hearing  pew-pew-pew-pew peeeewwwwwww PEW PEWPEWPEWPEW.   Since they were close enough to hear and see our response, I stopped mid-sentence and stared at them and said "REALLY?? HE'S PLAYING A VIDEO GAME? AT A BIRTHDAY PARTY? WITH THE VOLUME ON??"  Mom let it go for a minute, but she did start asking Little Boy to turn down his volume.  Not OFF, mind you, but...down.

me:

Really?

We spent the rest of the meal trying to finish sen-pewpewpew-tences about whether we pewpew wanted to eat desspewpewpewpewPEW-ert or just take it PEWPEWBEEPBOOOAWWP  home with us.  And of course opted for "to-go please".

Still, though, seriously-- I had to stop talking like five times and give this mom my best "Really?" stare, along with that obvious pantomine of looking around and saying loudly "Is someone seriously watching CARTOONS IN HERE?' before she would try to get him to turn the volume down. Again.

So my question is this:  WHAT THE HECK, PEOPLE???  Everywhere we go any more, kids are not expected to be quiet and/or focus on actual reality for more than a few minutes at a time before they freak out and insist on having a phone or an iPad or a TV screen shoved in front of them.

Everywhere. We. GO.

At the grocery store:  Kids in the cart are playing on phones.

The car in front of me: TV screens in front of the baby car seats.

In restaurants: They're on a phone or a game, or those *cool* new tabletop notebook screens, in case anyone forgets their phone in the car, or God forbid, wants to actually interact with their family over dinner.

You're going to the STORE, not across the country.  This is ridiculous.

And don't tell me that your kids are "too much of a handful" or that they are so hard for you to control that this is the only way you can go out in public.  They're only TWO FEET TALL; you can too control them, although if you're the mom from the restaurant, you've probably already waited too long.   Quit shoving stupid technology in their face 24/7, and teach your kids to BEHAVE.  If you don't know how, ask your mom how her parents did it, because believe me, for the older generations, this was NOT a problem, and no one grew up "warped" because of strict discipline, although I shudder to think of what this next generation will be like.

Get it together, parents.  There are other people out here, trying to eat.










images courtesy of Google images

My Kind of Protest--

time to trim the list down

I just remembered that I had promised to write a post about flavors that shouldn't be flavors awhile ago, along with my "No Blue Candy" rule.  Call me a dark-haired patriot with flashing eyes if you must, but...sometimes you gotta take a stand.

What reminded me of this pressing issue that gets no coverage? Well, for now-- Taffy.  Last night we were sitting around eating a bag of random salt water taffy from Seaside, Oregon, one of the best places to get salt water taffy in the history of the world ever. Part of the "fun" of salt water taffy is that they are wrapped in special wax paper that can be molecularly bonded to the actual candy, so by the time you open it, you no longer care what flavor it is.  You're starving.

They're conveniently not labeled, either, so in a mixed bag, you're really just on your own.  Go ahead and pop that red taffy in your mouth.  It could be lovely cherry.  Or blazing hot cinnamon.  At least Jelly Belly jelly beans have a handy color-coding chart on the bag, so if you don't rip the bag in half opening it, you can sort of match up your candy and see what hand you've been dealt.  Like this:

I guess I'd rather know, but I don't see any flavor here I would EAT

Oh, sure.  Salt water taffy is color coded.  SORT OF.  But when you're dealing with like 10,000 flavors of candy, you tend to run out of color combos.  So the candy-coloring folks just start making stuff up, like, "Hey, let's just leave this one white with a few flecks of green in it.  See if they can guess what THAT is. HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA, it's 'hot dog bun'!"  *high five*

Pretty soon they'll be like Willy Wonka and start actually doing that.  Or maybe they have.  Isn't there bacon-flavored gum or something now?  Will we be able to buy a bag of "Steak Dinner" jelly bellies someday?  digressing

It's a sad truth that there are candy flavors that just don't need to exist. Call it discrimination, but some things should only be that flavor when they're the actual thing.  Like green apple.  The ONLY thing that should ever taste like green apple IS A GREEN APPLE.  Buttered popcorn.  Wait- what??

Briefly, let me clarify some flavors that we should stand up to and demand (with protests and flags and signs and stuff) that they be removed from circulation and not forced upon us any more forever and ever amen.

Apple.  Green, red, golden delish, I don't even care. Just  NO.  Leave these where they belong: As fruit, juice, or sauce.  Or pie.

Anything blue.  There are no blue fruits, but still you'd think maybe blue..berry, right?  No.  Raspberry.  Go figure.

Banana.  Come ON.  This is so gross.  I like bananas, but "banana flavor" is just - wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.  Lose it.  (Also too easy to mistake the color for lemon and get a nasty surprise).

Black licorice.  We can all guess what the black ones are.  Unless you were born in 1903, does anyone even still eat black licorice any more?  They're always the last ones left in the bag, so there's your sign.

Bubblegum.  What?  No.  Take three steps to your left and BUY SOME GUM.

Buttered popcorn.  Who the HECK thought of this?  The great thing about popcorn is that it's crunchy, warm, and CORNish.  This doesn't translate to taffy OR jelly beans.  Gross.

Coconut.  Iffy.  I'm all for lovely coconut candy like Mounds because they have actual coconut, but make it a jelly bean and I'm out.  Too fake.

Coffee.  Jelly beans?  Seriously?  Don't we get enough of this at all those java huts on every corner?  I can deal with it as ice cream, but a brown coffee jelly bean is just a shock to the palate.  Also especially nice if you just ate a lime jelly bean.  Just sayin'.

Cotton candy.  Again, why flavor a candy with the flavor of another candy?  Move further down the counter and get the real thing.

Grape.  At least it's purple, but still.  These usually taste like cough medicine, but we eat them anyway, because they're all that's left at the bottom of the bag with the black licorice taffies.

Marshmallow.  Disqualified, because they're already a candy.  Plus, they're too easy to mistake for Vanilla; see below.  

Peach.  This only belongs in the actual fruit.  The kind you eat standing over the sink on August 10th with the juice running down your arm.

Pear.  For the longest time, I couldn't for the life of me figure this flavor out.  The only thing I could come up with was..."stink bug".  They smell like stink bugs.  Then I checked the bag.  "Oh, riiiight.  PEAR.  That makes it much better."

Peppermint/spearmint/wintergreen.  These need to be ONE flavor.  Come ON.  Just go with "mint" K?

Pineapple.  Oh my gosh, so much NO.  Pineapple belongs at a luau as a fruit, or sauteed in rum and caramel.  Nowhere else. These are also another pale color that gets mistaken for something yummier.

Root Beer.  I can't even stand the drink, so why would I want it in a jelly bean??

Strawberry.  Too many red things.  The only red thing should be cherry.  Or a well-coded cinnamon.

Tangerine.  Ew.  Do people still eat these?

Tropical fruit.  No.  Some fruits we only pretend to like, like mangos and papayas, because we think Hey, they come from the islands, so eating them will make us feel like natives and forget that we live in Narnia where it is winter forever except August 10th and 11th.  It's a lie.  No one likes these fruits, not even the natives.  Pretty sure they're just decorative, you guys.  Quit pretending to eat them.

Vanilla.  Well DUH.  White taffy.  White jelly beans.  Wonder what this one is.  Nice palate cleanser after the coffee jelly bean, though, so they can stay.

Watermelon.  Another flavor that should only be found inside AN ACTUAL MELON.    EW.  And WHY is it always green?  I mean, yeah, the outside is green, but when you think of "watermelon" the color...you think of red or pink.  If it has to stay, at least make it pink.  On second thought--no.  It can't stay.  And don't even get me started on "honeydew".

To sum up, here is a handy color chart that clearly shows what everything should be:

Red = cherry.  Green = lime.  Yellow = lemon.  Orange = orange.  White = vanilla.

Feel free to add on from there.  I'll be over here, sorting my jelly beans.

NO Name-Dropping in Restaurants and Other Things I Shouldn't Have To Tell You

Like This.  Only WAY less interesting.

First rule of thumb:  If you go to a restaurant and like to name-drop and talk LOUDLY OVER EVERYONE about yourself, your income, your cars, your vacations, your kids, etc., etc., puh-leese, don't be surprised at all if everyone in the room seems to hate you.  We are not impressed.  We don't wish we were you.  You are just making yourself look like an insufferable jerk.

If you see this look, it isn't envy.  Stop kidding yourself.

We don't go out for dinner much any more, but every once in awhile, we'll just...go.  One of my very favorite places around is this tiny Greek/Mediterranean place that serves my Favorite Dish in the Whole World Ever:  chicken ravioli--which is actually cheese ravioli surrounded by a cream sauce that makes you melt, floating with chunks of soft chicken and feta cheese and Parmesan flakes.  And bread to dip in the sauce.  Heaven.

UNfortunately for us, it is also kind of a hip hot spot for the Who's Who in our area to gather and NAME DROP VERY LOUDLY OVER DRINKS, because it's a martini bar, too, and apparently martinis don't mix well with the concept of CAN YOU PLEASE NOT TALK SO LOUD THAT EVERYONE IN THIS WHOLE TINY ROOM HAS TO HEAR EVERY NAME-DROPPING RICHY-RICH WORD YOU SAY?????

So...a lot of the diners are dates and business dinners and girls-night-out type stuff, which is fine (except for the ubiquitous table of three divorcees laughing way too loud over their wine glasses).  When you throw in a bunch of martini-swilling local Main Streeters, in a room the size of most people's bedroom, elbow-to-elbow, it can get a little claustrophobic and irritating, like having a sliver in your shoe, but you CAN'T stop and take it out.  Sometimes I just order the dish to go and bring it home to enjoy it in peace and quiet.

But--we went the other night, as a treat.  We were seated in a corner, next to a table of four business-y types in probably their late 40s.  There is always music there in the background, but it's never nearly loud enough, so you basically get to listen to whoever's at the next table TALKING VERY LOUDLY OVER DRINKS.  It was super annoying, and since we couldn't hear our own conversation over the sound of theirs, we turned it into a game, where we sort of joined their conversation from our table, sotto voce.  It didn't help that the woman sitting closest to us, who did most of the REALLY LOUD NAME DROPPING, also had just about the most cringeworthy, whiny, nasally voice, possibly in the history of the whole world EVER.

This all seriously happened, right next to my elbow:

Me:  So, I talked to my brother the other night.

Shane:  Oh...(distracted by 100-decibel conversation of people at next table).

Loud Woman Neighbor #1:  ...So, yes, our ESCALADE IS PAID FOR.

Loud Man Neighbor #2:  ..but what we NEED is a Corvette paid for.  Haha.  You know.  Because we need it, right?

Loud Woman Neighbor #2:  Oh, I know.  Our Z is paid for...

Loud Man Neighbor #2:  Don't forget the Lexus is also paid for.

LWN#2:  Oh, RIGHHHT.  The Lexus is paid for too.

LMN#1:  But we need a Corvette.

Shane:  When's he coming to visit?

Me:  Umm, what?  Oh.  June.

more conversation drifts over, talking about their savings...

LWN#1:  We're thinking 5 MILLION is enough, for our golden years...

LWN#2:  Oh girl, your "golden years"?? You guys aren't that old.

LWN#1:  I know, but we have to have something set aside.

LMN#2:  Yes, but 5 million?  I guess that would be enough, if it was earning interest...

LWN#1:  It's easy to have that much, because we make SO MUCH MONEY right now--we are practically using hundreds as firestarters.  (Ok, I added that part.  Don't judge.)

Shane:  What date in June?

Me:  The--

LWN#1:  YOU KNOW WHAT I MISS?  EUROPE.  And ROME.  We have GOT to get back over there.

LMN#2:  I KNOW.  Last time we were in GERMANY, they had this blah blah.

LWN#2:  I want to do another cruise.  You know, and I miss France right now, too.  Why don't we all do a cruise?

Me:  I think the 3rd of June...

Shane:  What's the 3rd of June?    What is with these people?? I can't hear myself think.

Their conversation is now about college...

LWN#1:  ...We give our son a $5,500.00 allowance during college.  FIFTY-FIVE HUNDRED.

LMN#2:  Per year?

LWN#1:  No, dear, per SEMESTER.  FIFTY-FIVE hundred.  And our daughter's at blah blah, doing blah blah.

Me:  My brother's coming. And graduation is the 8th.

Shane:  --

Waiter to Neighbors:  Is everyone ready for dessert?

We were like NO, they are NOT!  For the love of God, no dessert!!!  But nooo...it was LWN#1's birthday.  So, of course, lots of applause, waiter fawning, more general loudness.

Us to ourselves:  (Oh, we're sorry.  We're just sitting right here next to you, trying to enjoy a date night and eat our dinner).

Waiter to Them:  Would you all like some more wine?

Them:  Actually, we need a round of your best COGNAC for her birthday.  And please bring EVERY DESSERT IN THE PLACE AND SOME MORE ALCOHOL BECAUSE WE NEED TO BE LOUDER IN THIS 10 X 20' ROOM.

Us:  Oh. My. Gosh.  Seriously?!?

Their conversation morphed over to a 20-minute monologue on SAMSUNG products.  Samsung phones, Samsung printers.  Samsung the company.  Samsung versus Hewlett-Packard.  Samsung's stock values.  Samsung, Samsung, SAMSUNG.  

Us:  We're out.  Can we get a box for this?

We did mess with them a little, from our table two feet away, since we couldn't have a conversation with each other.  I think they probably totally thought we were having way too much fun, judging by how much we were giggling...We pretended we were *almost* part of their group; so throughout their whole conversation, we'd interject comments that only we could hear:

Shane:  I KNOW.  We need a Corvette paid for too.  Lexus is such a boring ride.

Me:  And I think 5 million isn't nearly enough, but *sniff* if that's all you can do--you gotta start somewhere.

Shane:  We really should plan a trip to France.  AND take a cruise, too.

Me:  We could cruise to France.  Maybe they can hook us up.

Shane:  And that poor KID.  $5,500 per semester?  The nerve.

Me:  I know.  Our kids will totally have unlimited allowances at college.  Cheapskates.

Shane:  At least we'll know where to find them some SAMSUNG products.

Waiter:  Can I get you two another round?

Me:  *giggling uncontrollably while holding up one finger*  Yes.  Yes, I think so, please.

So--after all--it turned out to be a pretty fun night.  And we got a TON of food to bring home...

I can't tell you how many times I actually almost asked them to please shut UP.  One more key lime martini, and I probably would have...

Shut. Up.

Had to get that off my chest...

More Facebook Tips From Under a Rock

Ok, yes, I've said this before, but there's always more to say, about social media. 

The other day I was laughing at what I call my "ever-shrinking list" of friends on Facebook.  Most people on Facebook have like 462 FRIENDS.  Which just says:  "DON'T YOU WISH YOU WERE AS POPULAR AS ME?  I KNOW A LOT OF PEOPLE".  Is it a popularity contest?   The one with the Most Likes wins?  I lose, then, I guess.  Or I'm doing it wrong...

Hit LIKE if you have a pulse.  You.  Right now.

I do like some of the positive stuff I've seen posted--don't get me wrong.  I've found recipes, news stories, and some truly funny stuff on Facebook.  I have gotten to see the children of my friends from high school, and it's very sweet to know that we're all still alive and well.  

I must be living under a rock, though, because I can't honestly imagine more than about 10 people who I truly want to know what they're up to every.single.day.  Seriously.  Every day? By the hour?  Lord, no.  I don't even need that kind of constant updating from my immediate family.  It makes me yearn for the time when whole hours (or even days, weeks, or months) could pass before you'd hear from some of your friends.  And you still loved each other.  Remember how GREAT it was to catch up with them, in person?  No so, these days.  It's like Detail Overload, only with no human contact.  It's a little freaky.

Hey, we're almost touching!  Want to see a picture of my pets?

Why should any of us think that our friends from high school (or--let's be honest--some of them are really just acquaintances from high school) would want to know what we're eating or drinking, what our kids did over the weekend, or where we're going on vacation?  These are people I sat in a classroom with, (or not?--I can't even remember anymore), something like 28 YEARS AGO.  Not to sound cold-hearted, but I really don't actually care what kind of coffee you had this morning. 

Isn't Facebook proof that we are all so self-centered?  What could be more attention-seeking than to post publicly to 462 people, who you probably don't know that well, that you're "feeling disappointed today"?  Facebook should impose an auto-complete for those vague posts, like this…"THIS IS WHERE YOU ARE REQUIRED TO ASK THE POSTER WHAT'S WRONG SO THEY CAN BE VAGUE AND MYSTERIOUS."  Do we need this kind of constant affirmation that people, even down to our most minor acquaintances, are interested in our life?  Because trust me, they're not.  They're interested in theirs. 

Unfortunately, these are the reasons I find myself turning off feeds of people who I truly do care about (in the real world), simply because my "TMI input" is maxed out.  I just don't need that kind of info every day (no offense, I love them, but--still).  Also, what is with the "What's for dinner" posts? …WHO CARES? We're all busy.  Eating DINNER.  Stop it!  Finish your vegetables!

Or how about the posts where someone you're with will post pictures on FB, and you'll see yourself online instantly, and it's like, "Oh, look…there we are, eating lunch…and I'm STILL CHEWING THAT  SAME BITE OF STEAK." 

Also, for those who haven't mastered the concept of "Bragging is UNattractive" (especially in this economy). It's very nice that some of us can still afford to travel.  Traveling is lovely, and I adore going places. HowEVER, please pay attention:  If you're lucky enough to be planning a weekend getaway, a major vacation, or a hugely romantic evening out--here's a tip:  Unless you are inviting us to join you, please refrain from posting a count-down like this:  "TWENTY DAYS TIL TAKE-OFF! TAHITI HERE WE COME!!! J  SO excited!"  Because most, if not all, of the people who see that on their screen when we sit at our desks in the morning to deal with bills and emails, will just think "Well, whoopdeefrickinDOO for you.  Shut UP," and continue staring into space with our chin on our hand, trying to figure out how to stop foolishly squandering our money on electricity and food.   Or we might be tempted to turn off your feed…

aieeeeee

Not to say I haven't taken some seriously cool trips myself, both with and without our family.  Somehow, though, I've always had the tact to realize that--seriously---no one wanted to hear about it. 

Not before we went ("Guess where weeee're going?"). 

Not while we were there ("Hello from The Bahamas!! Don't you wish you were US right now?"). 

Not after we got back ("Oh my gosh, I'm SO TAN now!  It's so COLD here"). 

If someone asks me about a trip, I think the polite thing to say is, "Yes, it was really nice," and leave it at that, unless they ask for more details.  Then of course I'm happy to tell them whatever they want to know.  Emphasis on "want".

So, every once in awhile, I will cruelly sit at my FB screen and scroll through my 'friends' list, and instead of looking for people to ADD to that list, I'm usually rubbing my chin and considering each name, and thinking…"Well, really.  We worked together for less than a year, more than a decade ago.  You have never so much as even *liked* anything I've posted on here, let alone COMMENTED, so… obviously, we don't need to be in touch.  And if memory serves, we weren't actually friends then anyway."  And so, mercilessly, *click*, I remove our connection.  I mentally apologize to them, and sure, it feels a little heartless, but the truth is, it's not personal.   I'm not mad at them, and I don't dislike them, but chances are, they won't even notice that we're no longer connected (partially because they have 461 other 'friends' still left on their list), which means we probably didn't need to be connected in the first place.

Yay! Everyone Likes Me!

All of this is not to even MENTION the nonsense back-and-forth mudslinging that can get fired up online, usually over nothing.  If you have an argument with someone, take it to them personally.  Don't call them out publicly from behind the safety of your screen.  People will say cruel things online that they would never DREAM of saying in person.  Trust me, I've been there. 

The lesson?  Don't be afraid of the "unfriend" button--and here's to keeping our friends "real". 

-I know… I'm like the Emily Post of Facebook etiquette. 

Leggings are Not Pants...and Other Fashion Advice I Should NOT Have to Give

I always think, look, I totally shouldn't have to point any of this out, but there are some things that I guess have to be said, people. 

Maybe it's because I'm from the 80s, where the most out-of-line we ever got as teenagers was wearing too much makeup (Cyndi Lauper style), too many layers of bangles and scrunchy socks, and neon colors…Madonna wannabes that we were.   Also, there were shoulder pads.  But I have to say that, even then,  AT LEAST WE MATCHED THE NEON COLORS.  And we kept our butts covered, people.  Covered. 

(I almost said "Back in MY day" right there, but I'm not THAT old.)

Nowadays, I look around at what women are wearing, on purpose, in public, and I have to wonder--Did no one teach these girls the basics of coordinating articles of clothing, or how to dress to flatter their body type, or at least appropriately cover most of it in various social settings??  It always baffles me.   

I'm no fashion maven.  I don't shop (like, ever), or buy whatever's 'hot' this season.  But for crying out loud, it takes roughly the same amount of time to put on a matching outfit that flatters my figure (no matter what weight I currently am), as it does to throw on pajamas.  There's always a top and a bottom involved, and some shoes.  It's not rocket science to glance in a mirror and check to see that I don't have back-rolls lining up under my bra because my shirt or sweater is too snug for the amount of Christmas cookies I've eaten this year.  Muffin tops are not like vampires.  They DO show in a mirror; all you have to do is LOOK.  If you see one, those pants need to go in the "skinny jeans" pile until you don't see a muffin top when you put them on again--THEN, you can wear them out of the house.   No one wants to see that.  And covering the muffin top with a spandex top just makes it worse.  If you HAVE to wear those pants, for whatever reason, then at least join me in putting on a looser top as a clever disguise and make a vow to eat fewer cookies or start working out or something.

Soooo, in the interest of education and helpfulness (hey, it's Christmas, I'm here to help)...here is a list you can read, memorize, write on your hand, or print and hang on your bathroom mirror, as a reference guide, in case you're wondering whether that outfit is "fine" to go out the door in.  I can't believe I even have to say some of these, but if your moms or friends or every fashion magazine and store mannequin haven't helped you, then maybe THIS will. 

Here are a few of my Least Favorite Things:

1.  Leggings as pants.

This is just WRONG, even if you're a size 00

 I have been living in leggings straight thru since the 80s.  Every day, even before they came BACK into style.  Possibly before you were born.  Leggings and a long t-shirt are my uniform (at home).  I think I pretty much invented this outfit.  Here's the deal though:  Leggings are NOT. PANTS.  They aren't!!  The rule is…if you're wearing a skin-tight garment on the bottom; you balance it with something long and looser on the top.  If you wouldn't wear just nylons and a shirt to work…Apply that rule here.  No one wants to see you running around in just leggings, a waist-length t-shirt, stilettos, and a puffer vest (gag), no matter how cute your figure is. The only place I think anyone expects to see leggings all the way up is if you're starring in a workout video.  Shoe choices--Leggings look good with flats or the oh-so-common tall boots, but not with loafers, Keds, Crocs, or Uggs (more about shoes later).  High heels DO work if the top of the outfit is long and dressy--then the leggings become like tights and voila--flattering outfit.  So, basic rule of thumb with leggings:  Put them on and turn sideways in front of your mirror.  Your top should hang PAST YOUR BUTT.  It's iffy even if it's just right to the top of your thighs at the back…which is not quite long enough to be flattering, but the leggings-as-pants thing should really stop.  Just--ew.  Have mercy.

See this?  Yes--super cute

2.  Pajamas, sweats, or slippers.  In public.  No.  No, NO NO.  Unless you are riding in an ambulance, I guarantee you, you had time to put on regular clothes.  This is just lazy and sloppy beyond belief.  I get it--you don't "care what people think" about how you look.  How about YOU caring about how you look? No one wants to see your dirty sweats or Superman PJs hanging off your butt while you scuffle around the store in slippers that I wouldn't wear to wash my car in.  So, telling yourself it's OK because you don't care what we think…this tells me you are a rude and possibly inconsiderate person, which makes me like you less, even though we'll probably never meet.  Which is sort of sad.  Maybe you're not rude and inconsiderate, but all we're given is that one first impression of you, and "Rude Slob" is what this says to me.  Or, I should really quit going to Wal-Mart…

3.  Quit with those giant, stupid, furry boots that make you look like you cut the legs off a woolly mammoth and used them for leg warmers.  The 3" round furry puff-ball pompon things don't help either.  Actually…these boots don't work with anything.  There should be a boot-burning somewhere, and these should be the kindling. 

Somewhere a yak is running naked

Let's hit the beach! Wait--my feet are cold. 

4.  Boots with shorts.  (Triple demerits if they're the boots above).  I get it about the cute cowgirl thing, and on some girls (at the fair, in the summer, with the horses), the cowboy boots and cut-offs look *can* be cute.  But be careful it doesn't cross over into the WTH category.

5.  Dirty sneakers.  I don't…even--just, why.  Even clean sneakers, to me, scream soccer mom, which is a term I despise (even though I am crazy about my kids' sports games), so I avoid sneakers (even brand-spanking-new ones) unless I'm actually jogging or hiking or shooting hoops.  Wait.  I don't jog.  Cute Keds to a volleyball game, sure.  But sneakers, to me, just don't help any outfit, or at least very rarely.  They're for SPORTS.  I have too many fun summer shoes NOT to swap the sneaks for a cute sandal or a pair of flats.  Put on whatever you're wearing, and then put on the sneakers.  Then pull out your cutest heels or sandals and switch out the shoes.  See?  It changes the whole look, even if you're wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.  And yes, there ARE comfortable other options.  Sneakers, to me, just always say "I don't care; no one looks at my feet anyway".  Which segues into…

6.  Gym clothes when NOT inside the actual gym.  You work out.  Good for you.  But get dressed AT the gym.  It takes like one minute.  Unless you jogged to the store for some soy milk or electrolytes or something, we probably don't need to see this, either.  Toss the spandex in your gym bag and put on some jeans or even leggings before you leave…also see #1 above.

7.  Socks with sandals, or socks with Crocs.  Just--No.   This shouldn't even have to be explained; yet, many people do it.  So…officially:  NO SOCKS WITH SANDALS.  And Crocs are only acceptable (and then only barely) if you are in Home Depot, where you had to race over in the middle of a yard project to get that emergency bag of potting soil, and you are possibly still covered in garden dirt, and you literally did not have time to put on different shoes.  Even flip-flops would be better…  (Again, yes, I see a shoe theme here, but sorry, shoes really do change things).

Unless you have some scary foot disease, this = 50 lashes

8.  High heels.  Heels are sexy, no doubt about it.  They are fun to wear, and they accentuate nice legs and all that.  But--don't wear them if you can't walk in them.  You should be able to walk as if you're not IN heels, when you're in heels.  Comfortably and confidently.  If you're wobbling and tip-toeing along in them, you need to go to a shorter heel, or spend some time seriously practicing; otherwise, it's just embarrassing and we are afraid you might actually fall down.

9.  Spaghetti straps and sheer clothes.  2013 was like the year of sheer.  Maybe I'm being old-fashioned again, but when I was growing up and learning to dress myself, one of the cardinal sins was do not let your undergarments show EVER.  NEVER EVER EVER.  So the trend lately of spaghetti strap tank tops just kind of…shorts out my brain.  I'll be standing there with this super cute shirt, but…it has spaghetti straps.  My kids insist that it's totally OK if I just put this on over a bra and walk out the door.  But, my bra straps are then showing.  What the heck?  Do you see this?? My bra is showing.  That, to me, says white trashy to the max.  Next year will it be ok if our underwear are showing? (I won't even START on the guys with the pants hanging down…you guys look ridiculous; WHY don't you know this?!? See also #11.)  And those sheer tops are adorable, but then again, I'm always wondering, what do you wear under them (I know!--spaghetti-strap tank tops).  But then they'll also have some odd cut-out at the back, and there I am again--holding it up and peering through the hole at my kids and going, "WHAT do you wear under this? This hole is right where my bra hooks would be."  And they're like, "Yeah…so?"  

Whatever.  

10.  Flares.  Wide-leg pants.  Bell bottoms.  Different names for the same hideous garment.  I don't know what fashion designer ever lied to us enough to get us to believe that there is a body type ever born that looks flattering in flares.  I hated them in the 70s, even in 2nd grade, and I have hated them ever since.  Women's legs have a lovely tapered shape.  When you put a pair of bell-shaped pants on, they exactly reverse the contour of our legs.  Shorter legs look even shorter--stumpy and wide.  Long legs look like the bottom of a cypress tree or an upside-down mushroom.   A nice straight leg will always look longer and more attractive.  I'm always partial to a tapered leg, because that's the shape my leg IS, but straight is OK too.  Flares don't flatter anyone, and the sooner we all revolt against them, the sooner they might go the way of kaftans and tall headdresses.

11.  Low-rise jeans.  Ok.  Again--I may be old-fashioned, but womens' waists (you know, the part where we are the narrowest?) is way up there, above our hips.  Remember the hourglass analogy?  The midpoint is NOT on the bottom half of the hourglass--just saying.  Jeans that sit with a waistband accentuating our widest point, aside from being a pain in the ass (pun intended) to keep UP, bend over in, or sit down in, are just not flattering.  Some slimmer girls who are still 100 pounds soaking wet can pull this off, but if you have curves or have had kids (or stretch marks), you have probably already realized that these are not for you (or me).  These can be cute on the right figure, but make sure you HAVE that figure before trying these.  You also might be surprised how much more flattering a higher rise can be--a flatter stomach and a defined waistline come to mind…Also please, for the love of God, if you are going to wear these, check when you bend over, to make sure we are not subjected to a view of half your underwear and/or that tattoo that screams "Classless" across your low back.  You'll also be glad you missed the cringes of horror as the rest of us Grown-Ups are forced to look away from that and any muffin top above the sparkle-pocket pants you swiped from your teen's closet.

Your homework for this week is to get dressed, then go and LOOK IN THE MIRROR.  Full length.  All sides.  Is your butt covered?  Do you need a softer fabric or a looser shirt so those confidence-killing bra-bumps or back rolls don't show? Is that a stain on your shirt? Does your 15-year-old need her jeans back?  Take a minute to fix these things before you go out--you'll feel better; we'll feel better.  It's a win-win.

I know.  It's a lot to take in.

P.S. -Disclaimer--In case you're wondering, "wow, this chick is shallow"…Yep--This is me at my most shallow and ranty.  Although I do believe in taking care to look at least somewhat pulled together, I'm not a fashion freak (at all)--More of a leggings and t-shirt, stay-at-home kind of girl, and I'm usually barefoot (go figure).

I have had sort of an overload of regular grown-up stress lately, and 2013 has been an especially hard year--sort of just one long series of "I can't believe that just happened" kind of stuff, none of which needs to be shared with, oh, the wholeentireworld.  Since sarcastic joking is my way of dealing with pretty much everything, and I don't feel like adding to the general angst at Christmas, I thought I'd throw in a rant about fashion instead.   After all, I was a very snappy dresser, back in the 80s.