Relationships and Birthdays and Lessons Trying to Be Learned

I am trying to be the person I want to become. Most days I fail miserably. I can turn into a judgemental, harpy person. Does it count that I'm trying?

Then I have a few days that string together ... like notes in a song I love. How trite is that?

Yesterday, I had birthday wishes on Facebook, my email, texts and voicemails. My Aunt Ann sang happy birthday to me and was a little p***'d off when my Uncle Harry got on the extension and interrupted her serenade. Our friends, the Englands, joined us for dinner and you know, they didn't have to do that. I talked to my Aunts -- Connie and Judy. Our cleaning lady (don't go there) left me a card and a flower. I met Abby and Big Sal for a drink and had a great time catching up.

Birthdays are great in that people acknowledge you and wish you well. If I'm living my life in the way I want to do it, I should do that with every encounter.

A big chunk of my work life is spent building (or trying to build) relationships. I am humbled and awed that the reason I enjoy my work so much is that I have such wonderful relationships with incredible friends and family. And that has helped me to build relationships with others.

Ok, this was a really sappy post. I'll get back to being snarky next time.

Is Social Media Wasting Your Time?

I had a friend post something today that we, his facebook friends, should not be offended if he decides to close his page or stay away for a while. He has decided it is a distraction and ultimately, a time waster.

I am not offended. He's a smart guy with a busy life: family, travels a lot for work, etc. I respect his choice and, as he pointed out, any true friend can reach him through a variety of other avenues.

I have another friend who gave up facebook for Lent, which I also found admirable. She was really glad to be back on Easter but she kept the vow.

Texting is the only way I communicate with my son. His choice, but I have adapted.

We took a few days off to visit a lake house that our friends own. There was never a moment unplugged. I might have gone a few hours without checking email or looking at Facebook but someone else always kept me in the loop. We shuffled whose iPad or iPhone went on the speaker next because there was always music. Someone asked a question and 5 people Googled the answer.

Yet, I never felt disconnected from the people I shared this vacation with.

I don't think it's wasting our time. I think it's enhancing it.

It's a different world out there my friends. I like it. And. I'm just trying to keep up.

Most Marketing People are Crazy

There's a common belief that marketing people -- and you can throw in sales people for good measure -- are slightly askew from the norm. We are.

We are the people who ask about the logo on your shirt and why you wear it. We want to understand your loyalties. We are the people who open EVERY SINGLE PIECE of our junk mail because we're interested in what other companies are doing.

We are the job that never stops and most of us who have chosen this type of career would have it no other way.

Let's get serious. My job is not world changing. It's not life changing. But something is always niggling in my brain ... Hmmm... wonder if I could convert that idea somehow? Is there a different way to sell that? Is there a new opportunity here?

I'm going to be out of the office for a few days and my company encourages "break away" time. My boss is the first to say, "You are covered. Enjoy!"

I love that attitude. But I also know that while I will kick back and enjoy myself for a few days, the iPad or the Blackberry is always near. No one will need me while I'm gone. My need is to keep up with what is going on.

You never know where the next idea will come from.

Sexting & Nudity & Weiner

Outside my office sits a big flatscreen tv for members in the waiting area. It is always on CNN and when I am in my office, I can glance up and follow the news and commentary.

A couple of weeks ago, it was all about Arnold, his maid-girlfriend and his out-of-wedlock child. Now I get a steady stream of Weiner and his escapades.

We are all used to the stories of politician/public figure gone bad. Illicit affairs, hidden children, wives who stand by their man (and sentence their own punishment) and wives who stand strong for their children but send the strong message, "Get the *#@% out of here!"

I don't get Weiner. I don't get his need to send pictures of his privates to multiple women. I have great sympathy for his wife, a high powered official in her own right. She's not exactly living in his shadow. And, for extra fun, turns out she's pregnant with their first child.

I am not a prude but I don't get sexting. I had a friend tell me the other day that many men she knows have taken pictures of their privates the moment they get a camera or a phone with camera abilities. What? I told her to get new friends. She told me to stop being naive.

I am horrified when some young person I know puts a bikini photo on facebook. Or any photo that looks like a whore, or drunken whore. I guess my age is showing because I have worn a bikini in my day and I have certainly knocked back a few but I think these kids are committing some kind of educational/professional suicide before their adult lives even begin.

One of the benefits of age is I can honestly say that no one will photograph me in a bikini. Those days are long gone.

Weiner didn't do anything that jillions of others do all the time. But, he is a public figure and that brings its own level of press and scrutiny. The bigger question to me is -- WHY?

Entitled

This is going to make some of you mad. But, I am mad.

Whatever happened to working for a living?

There's this whole gang/group of people out there with the singular goal of working the system. They need food stamps, they need school lunch programs, they need disability. They need help.

I met a young man today, one of 10 children, whose mother is taking the majority of his paycheck. She has addictions and is working the system.

I met another who told me her sister can't work because if she stands too long or sits too long, her joints hurt. Well, guess what? If you're over 40, you probably have some joints that hurt.

Many of us feel entitled to Social Security but honestly, that plan is on the bubble. And the truth is, we probably paid less in than we feel we are entitled to receive.

Is there an answer? I don't know. But I know for sure that I am sick and tired of helping a whole group of people who work the system.

On the other hand, I would give a kidney to someone who needs it. I'm not heartless -- just a little jaded.

Dog Rules

We have a rule in our house that the dog is not allowed on the furniture. She has free reign to roam about the house. She is house broken and reasonably trustworthy. She has a perfectly comfortable bed in the laundry room and she often goes there to get away from us.

But, she has a wild side. It's almost like she wants to let us know that she will not be controlled. "Look at all these comfy places that no one is using!"



a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbyv2vcmIw1T6WagnhYyCg5SEJPnsnCnwmV3c1ojbqkcVyyWq9d6LrFc0FzEOZ8wXBa5KQonY79BGyNM6TcLeXLLesbNc80mXQWuIDHDv_Q6p1DWImQAyq2vnheyLVazSAjGBN93ENwk4/s1600/Gab+on+furniture+005.jpg">

We have a rule about no dogs on the furniture. Gabby did not get the memo.

Exposure Equals Tolerance

I just read a horrible article about a boy being bullied because he was, or appeared to act, homosexual.

I recently had a conversation with our copper, who guards our credit union, and I asked him about gang activity in Indianapolis. He gave me a lot more information than I really wanted to know. His perspective and his experience was enlightening. So many of the gang recruits are joining because they are protecting their racial territory. You don't see as many of the black gangs killing others as you do the black versus Hispanic situation. Then throw in poverty, ignorance, drugs, absent parents ... well, don't get me started.

When I was a young girl, dancing was my life. My sport of choice. I was also involved in community theater. At Butler/Jordan College of Music, my primary instructor was Mr. Copeland. He was as flamboyant and stereotypical as any gay man could be. I loved him madly. (My Dad used to refer to him as "Mrs. Copeland" just to annoy me but truly, my Dad doesn't have a prejudiced bone in his body.)

Mr. Copeland wanted me to attend many, many classes. It made me better and I think he liked having his "pet" students around. My parents couldn't afford 7-10 classes a week so he decided on a creative solution. I would be a demonstrator. (For those of you without dance experience, that's the person that stands in front of the class and demonstrates the move or the steps that the instructor expects everyone to do.)

I did this for years! The other demonstrator was a black girl, my age. We became fast friends. Some of my happiest memories are hanging with her between classes or the many times we were in the same show. I did not even notice that she was black and I don't think she really cared that I was white. We were friends.

In my feeble mind, bigotry equals ignorance. And, I am tired of it. I know, or have friends, or have coworkers, or have relatives who:

are black,
are Hispanic,
are gay,
are rednecks,
are ignorant,
are snobs,
are crazy.

Somehow, I manage to like, love or at least tolerate them all.