and all the BS fit to read!

FOOD FOR THOUGHT: Divorce is a life-changer

FOOD FOR THOUGHT: Divorce is a life-changer

Jul 31, 2011

Our children are at the ages during which they may very likely soon choose life partners. My husband and I are both divorced, and I’m grateful to say our blended family is healthy and happy 12 years into the union. But I have to be honest and say that I sincerely hope and pray that none of our four children ever has to endure the awful ordeal that is divorce. A very wise man once told me that a man marries a woman hoping (and believing) she’ll never change, and a woman marries a man thinking (and believing), “Oh I can fix him. He’ll change.” And they both end up disappointed. I have several girlfriends who are currently in various stages of the dissolution of their marriages. Some are just entering the choppy seas, some are floundering for their sanity and dignity in the middle of the ordeal, and some are just coming out on the other side, sadder, infinitely wiser, and wondering what on earth happened along the way. I think a lot of our friends are now finding their children grown and are grasping for some sort of new purpose or meaning, or they’re looking for a spark of excitement they haven’t felt in a while. After all, raising children is an all-consuming, grueling, long-distance marathon. As one psychologist put it not too long ago, it’s like getting pecked to death by a chicken. Not very glamorous. When we near the finish line, or when we reach it, we sometimes get scared or think, “Now what?” Different people deal with divorce in different ways, and I am truly fascinated to see how divorce has affected some of my friends at this “mid-life” stage of life. One has set about undergoing every cosmetic procedure under the sun because, as she frankly puts it, her husband left her “for his 12-year-old secretary.” Somehow, a complete makeover is helping my friend regain some of her dignity. I first noticed this when she and I met for coffee around Thanksgiving last year, and her sweaters fit more, um, snugly. Then around Christmas, her lips plumped and her chin tightened up. Now, her eyelids are so tight...

The Love-Gov. Very Funny

The Love-Gov. Very Funny

Jun 3, 2011

OK I just watched a brief synopsis of the Schwarzenegger/Shriver/what’s-her-name fiasco. So let me get this straight. A man of means sees a woman with large breasts and creates a love child with her. How refreshing. How original. How new-millenium. Please. So Arnold Schwarzenegger is a man. What a shock. I had a great conversation with two bright women  in the nail salon today, of all places. They had asked me about my FOOD FOR THOUGHT column in the Gwinnett Daily Post, and I answered them honestly. Why the column? Because women need a place to talk. Men, you know it’s true, so stop rolling your eyes. You should thank me. Look how much time and anguish I can potentially spare you if you play your cards right.   OK back to Arnold. I don’t know whether you buy into the “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” mentality, but I have to admit, I tend to agree with it. Let me translate that title for you. Men are motivated by completely different factors than are women.  A freakishly large bra size can potentially mean love at first sight to a man. To a woman, it means cosmetic surgery or a shallow gene pool, possibly both.  Venus and Mars, honey.   All right so let’s look at what we have in front of us. We have an illegitimate 13-year-old-boy  who is already more privileged than most children across the globe could ever imagine. We have a kept woman, thanks to her chest measurements.  Spare me your justifications.  How much conversation could there have possibly  been? If any, I don’t want the details.   I just saw on “E” that the mistress is so obsessed with “being” Maria Shriver that she wore her clothes.  Is that right? I’m trying to imagine how  many scientists and seamstresses that would have required.   Oh well.  Another day, another tough lesson learned. Women, you can be as bright and capable as anyone else on the planet. My advice to you is to line up a really good cosmetic surgeon if you really want to make your mark on the political world.  Men, well, try to be discreet....

OK. Let’s talk Family

OK. Let’s talk Family

Apr 1, 2011

Classic Archive from the always humorous Carole Townsend You knew it was coming, didn’t you? Christmas is upon us next week, and we will all be rolled, dipped and deep-fried in family. Relatives. Our “kin.” People with whom we share genetic material. Yes folks, it’s THE HOLIDAYS. You can’t avoid it. I am of the firm belief that God crammed all the heavy-duty family holidays (Thanksgiving and Christmas) in at the end of the year on purpose. He figured that we’d have a good 11 months to forget the nightmare of the previous year’s holidays. I love my family, but I am two glasses of wine into this post, so we’re going to go with it. My dad is 91 years old. The nicest thing he can muster at the Thanksgiving or Christmas meal is “I hope you didn’t screw it up too bad.” His table manners have become atrocious, and he insists on feeding my dogs from the table even though I ask him every year not to. This past Thanksgiving, I actually had visions of stabbing him with my fork during the meal over which I had slaved for three days, but I didn’t. There were witnesses, and I might have a hard time living with myself. Maybe not, but it was a possibility. My sister is two years older than I am. The last time she visited planet Earth was sometime on the early 80s. Every year, she volunteers to bring the legendary “green bean casserole,” and every year, she shows up two hours late with all the ingredients in a Kroger bag. By that time everyone has eaten, so she dutifully takes her Kroger bag of ingredients home and puts them in the pantry until next year. I have seen the same two cans of green beans every year since 1981. She also insists on bringing her one-eyed Jack Russell to my house, although every year I ask her not to. The dog’s favorite place in the whole world to poop is on my carpet. He barks incessantly, and my 75-lb. mixed-breed mutt is completely and utterly in love with him. The entire time my sister is in my home...

The New Victoria’s Secret Catalog is here! Yippee! Where’s My Wine?

The New Victoria’s Secret Catalog is here! Yippee! Where’s My Wine?

Mar 26, 2011

I went to the mailbox today, finally getting up the chutzpah to make it to the mailbox in the drizzling, cold rain and wind. Ugh. Bills probably. And I was right, of course. Gas bill, electric bill, mortgage statement. Ahhh, here’s the Victoria’s Secret swimsuit catalog. That reminds me; I need to pick up some hemlock for tonight’s chicken casserole. Why do I do this to myself? Every year, I order something from Victoria’s Secret. Granted, it may be a lipstick or a super-cinching miracle girdle, but I do it just the same. I think it keeps me in touch with my secret seductress. Last time I saw her was in my early 20s, but whatever. She’s still in here under this extra fat and attitude – somewhere. And every year I forget – they send me the swimsuit catalog. Now I ask you – how many people do you know who look like these models? They are beautiful, stunning, mouth-wateringly gorgeous, and I’m a hetero woman! But please, tell me, how many women do you know who actually look like these chicks without airbrushing? Even THEY don’t look this good without touch-ups! I brought the mail in and put it all on the kitchen table. I sorted through it, and I left the VS catalog on the table, unopened. I have to be in the right frame of mind to open it. I have to be about 2 glasses into a good Chardonnay to look at it. The last one that came was the day after Halloween. Whose idea is it to send out a catalog for bulimic zippers the day after the nation’s biggest candyfest? So I’m sitting here, sipping wine and flipping through the pages, looking at these gorgeous women wearing tie-dyed dental floss and acting as though they don’t have a care in the world. Here’s one wearing a black suit, slashed and revealing. She looks like Freddie Kruger got ahold of her after drinking a few Red Bulls. She looks drop-dead gorgeous. My mind wanders to how I might look in that same suit. Yikes. I’d have fat poking out every hole and slash – not pretty. I’d look...

Plugin by Social Author Bio