5 Things I'm Over

On Friday, Stacy over at Anymommy posted a list of things she's over. She asked readers to post their own lists in her comments, but I decided to put mine here, instead. If you have a list you'd like to share, post it in the comments or provide a link to your blog. (Nothing like a little pre-Christmas rant to get you in the holiday spirit.) 1) Political systems that reward decisions that help representatives get re-elected, as opposed to decisions that move the country forward. 2) Rich people who believe they should carry a lighter share of the tax burden because, if they wanted to, they could take that extra money and create jobs with it. 3) Poor people who believe they should be able to live middle-class lifestyles without going to work every day. 4) Workers who believe they should be able to work for 30 years, then sit on their butts for another 30. (Unless they manage to save up enough money to be self-supporting for 15 or 20 of that. Which is nearly impossible to do on the average salary, which, in turn, is why neither the government nor individual employers can afford to subsidize that option.) 5) People, in general, who believe you can make selfish, self-indulgent choices forever and never pay the piper. And if you think that's not happening, I refer you to item 1. (I'm a tiny bit peeved over what's going on in Washington. Can you tell?) And a happy Monday morning to you!

Happy is the Man

As I approach the final pages of my new novel, it's gotten me to thinking about marriage and how, here in the U.S. anyway, the marriages we generally view as "happy" are the ones where the man publicly claims to be henpecked. He indulges and caters to his wife, and mock-complains (or claims to be too terrified to protest) his fate. In the world outside his home, he may command dozens of people, but inside he's not even allowed to pick out wallpaper. On the other hand, if the situation is reversed, if the wife complains how the man wears the pants and makes all the decisions, we view it as a less happy marriage. I wonder why that is? I think it has to do with power. Because men typically have both the financial power and the physical power in a relationship, there's a gentle majesty in allowing the smaller, weaker party to make binding decisions, kind of like those trainers who lead huge bears around on little chains. We know the bear could, with one swipe of his paw, end the tyranny, and we view it as a measure of the strength of the connection between the two that he doesn't do that. I wonder if there's any correlation between the longevity of a marriage (which, of course, doesn't actually measure marital happiness, but it's the closest measure I can think of) and who makes the domestic decisions? What do you think? And, for those of you who come from other cultures, how do things work in your world?

The Month of Living Dangerously

As you may know, November is National Novel Writing Month, the annual event where writers around the world attempt to pen a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. (For those of you who are mathematically challenged, that comes out to 1667 words per day.) I attempted to do this last year and wound up adding a mere 13,000 words to my novel-in-progress. This year, with that same novel still under construction, I decided to do a slightly different take on NaNo, committing only to finishing this first draft, an effort I estimated at about 20,000 words. And, to give myself a fighting chance, I decided to clear my calendar of everything but work, school and unavoidable chores--laundry, nuking food and running the dishwasher. It's now the last weekend of the month and this is where I am: 1) Old Dog has washed 9 loads of his own laundry. 2) We've eaten through 90% of the leftovers in the freezer, including two containers of Mystery Meals (that remain mysteries to this day). 3) I've turned down: o 2 requests for babysitting. o 2 grandkids' birthday parties. o A plea to help out my sister (yeah, that one's totally coming back to haunt me) 4) The bathrooms are gross. 5) The dust is so thick you could write a NaNo novel in it. 6) Wads of dog hair the size of tumbleweeds roll across the floors. Balanced against all that is the fact that I've penned 11,000 words and I'm down to the last three scenes of the book. So I'm ahead of the game.

Two Unnecessary Innovations

#1 Recloseable packaging for men's underwear. May I just say, "Eww?" #2: Airport scanning devices that actually do what the old X-ray glasses advertised in the back of comic books did not: let people see through your clothes. When we reach the point where someone has to either see me naked or cop a feel before I can safely get on an airplane, the terrorists have won.

Wherein a Computer Program Causes Me to Attend Church with Bed-head

On Sunday morning, I decided to finish up my homework as soon as I got up so I wouldn't have to deal with it after church.

The assignment was to setup a space scene with a lunar lander, a spider robot, a space alien and some rocks and to program the following scenario: The spider robot walks over to the rocks. When he gets there, the space alien pops up. The spider robot whirls around and runs back to the lander.

(Yes, the spider robot is kind of a chicken-shit. What can I say? He's not my protagonist.)

Anyway, simple program, right?

I was almost done when I decided I had too many rocks. Since I couldn't remember how to delete an object, I just resized one till it was too small to see. Only then, when I pressed the "play" button, the spider robot would just kind of spin in place with his legs hopping up and down like he was standing on a hotplate.

Hmmm.

After a while, I figured out that the robot was trying to walk over to a rock that was too small to see. That was, apparently, right under his feet. I spent the next half hour trying to locate this rock molecule so that I could make it big again.

Turns out it's impossible to resize a rock you can't see.

I had to start all over.

Which is how I wound up at church on Sunday with bed-head and no make-up.

Old Joke #45

Jack wakes up in the hospital bandaged from head to foot. "I see you've regained consciousness," the doctor says. "You probably don't remember, but you were in a huge pile-up on the highway. You're going to be okay, you'll walk again and everything, but your penis was severed in the accident and we were unable to find it." As Jack groans, the doctor goes on, "You've got $ 9,000 in insurance compensation coming and we now have the technology to build a new penis. They work great but they don't come cheap. They're, roughly, $1,000 an inch." Jack immediately perks up. "You'll have to decide how many inches you want. Now, I know that you've been married for over thirty years, so this is something you should discuss with your wife. If you had a five incher before and get a nine incher now, she might be uncomfortable with the change. Or, if you had a nine incher before and you decide to only invest in a five incher now, she might be disappointed. So it's important that she plays a role in helping you make your decision." Jack agrees to talk it over with his wife. The next day, doctor comes back. "So, have you spoken with your wife?" "Yes I have," Jack says. "And has she helped you come to a decision?" "Yes, she had," Jack replies. "And what did you decide?" asks the doctor. "We're getting granite counter tops."

5 Things I'm Glad I Won't Witness

Sometimes it's a drag to realize I won't be around for certain future occurrences, like the next visit from Hailey's Comet and what my grandkids' kids will be like. With other things, though, I'm actually pretty happy to think I'll be dead when they happen. Like: 1) Gen-Xers trying to retire on what's left of Social Security by that point. Can anyone say, "Cat food meatloaf?" 2) Today's tattooed kids when they're 50. I once had a grape tattooed on my ass. It's now a raisin. (Okay, that's not really true, but it's not a pretty image, is it?) 3) The attention span of the next generation of kids. 4) The U.S. paying off our debt to China. Like that will happen. Seriously, China: take a lesson from what's going on with all the upside-down mortgages here, and with the pensions GM (stupidly) committed to paying. When the going gets tough here, we default. You've got about as much chance of getting your money back as Buffalo has of making it into the Superbowl. 5) The obesity stats in 2060. At the rate we're going, they won't fit on the page. You always hear, "Getting old stinks, but think about the alternative." To which I would reply, "Dying sucks, but would you really want to be around to deal with all this shit?"