Once Bad Always Bad?

Seeing the world in black and white. Do you think you do that? Once someone is deemed bad they can never again be seen as good? Or are you gray? Seeing things from both sides?

Gray is my favorite color of late around my house and around my person. What does this say about me?

Grey or gray (see spelling differences) is an intermediate color between black and white. It is a neutral or achromatic color, meaning literally that it is a color "without color." It is the color of a cloud-covered sky, of ash and of lead.

A cloud-covered sky.

Pup and I are watching The Affair. At first blush; from just reading the title; you, and I frankly, may think, "Nope, I don't want this. I don't want to be witness to something uncomfortable. Something so bad."

And then you watch. It's complex. Layered. Showing over and over how things are never, ever black and white. No one correct way. No one wrong way. Not that once an asshole always an asshole. That once you think this you can never think that.

The sad situation in Ferguson, the personal violence erupting in sports, immigrants in your town, young, troubled boys looking for an anchor - looking for their place, bad parents. My list could go for miles.

Or when you think about opinions you have formed about events, people, areas of the country, family. Once you think one way can you be swayed into thinking another way?

I remember a story my dad told when I was little about a girl he was dating before meeting my momma. The girl was pretty and he liked her very much. One night out on a date, they were tickling and wrestling as young people in the beginnings of a relationship do. The girl farted. My dad broke up with her. Just like that. His opinion of her changed. From infatuation to distaste. Plonk.

I was a little girl that was always in her head and that story changed how I thought about people. I began realizing that there are reasons for experiences, reasons for change in your life that you will never know about. Why you didn't get that job, why that boy broke up with you, why a friend stopped calling you back, why you don't feel close, why someone loves you.

I've changed my mind about people and situations a million times over. Sometimes it pisses me off and sometimes it makes me happy. And sometimes it makes me wonder if I do not have a backbone. If I am easily swayed. Or if I am ornery in my singular and lonely thoughts.

I mean, once at a family meeting here at Chez Emerson, I stood up from my chair and shouted at a sister-in-law, "You're WRONG. This is what is right."

What.the.hell.

We laughed about it in the moment, but that has harassed my thoughts from time to time. Filling me with laughter and tears.

Once again, I am working through something here on paper (sic). Something I didn't even know I needed to work through! Oh the magic that early morning can provide!

I wish this would start a dialogue. I long for a dialogue! Do any of you feel similarly? Do you covet a black and white approach or do you want your mind blown open for possibilities? Possibilities seem wonderful, but they are limiting in their limitlessness.

Oh damn!

Obsession

I've had this one for as long as I can remember. It's a bit embarrassing. Proof that I am eternally 12 years-old. Yeah, I knew you would agree!

I have a love.

A love for . . .

Office supplies.

Yep, I can't resist new mechanical pencils, the perfect gel pen, and notebooks.

Notebooks.

I have them tucked everywhere. In my handbag, in the kitchen, on my office desktop (well, duh!), in my bedroom, in my car, in The Big Room, in Pup's car, in the bathroom. Yes, even there. You just don't know when a random thought might appear and let's be clear here - if I don't write it down immediately, it's gone. GONE!

I know I've passed this particular obsession to at least one of my daughters. Along with my love of hair twirling. Hey! It's what mothers are for.

I don't think of my obsession as bad, I think of it as necessary.

I know they have some office supplies hidden in here somewhere.

What's your secret obsession?

Let's Have a Kiki

I am obsessed with the Scissor Sister's song, Let's Have a Kiki. Obsessed!

*warning - graphic images and language (it's not that bad, but you gotta protect those that need protecting.)

I cannot stop listening to it.

Of course I was a bit confused regarding the meaning of Kiki. Originally I thought party. Then I came to realize it is a word, similar to our much beloved F-word, that can mean anything - driven by the person saying Kiki. Whatever makes you happy. Be it a party, sexy-time, a boy, a girl, a cocktail. If it makes you happy, it's a Kiki.

Necessary or unnecessary background for weekend story.

I went to Rice Lake to visit my friends that have a home on the lake. Peaceful, lovely, warm and calm in the summer and crisp and frozen in the winter. A small small town, but always fun when I go see my oldest and dearest friend, Deb-oh-rah.

When I go to Rice Lake we go auctioning, antiquing, junking. More fun than I deserve.

On this evening we take the pontoon to town to have dinner and a few cocktails.

After dinner we decide to go to the Lions and use Mikey's secret card (not so secret - I just wanted to say that) to gain entrance, and have a delicious cocktail overlooking the lake.

A large group come in. A group that has been having fun all day. Their energy is good! Laughing, story-telling, hitting-each-other-on-the-back fun.

One woman raises her glass and adds onto a story that we have missed the beginning of . . .

"Ladies - how many of you have had to get up in the middle of the night to pee because, in your past, you pushed babies out of your vagina?"

Rowdy laughter!

I mutter under my breath, "Not me, I do my kegels religiously."

Several woman are adding to her inquiry. Much talk about big-headed babies and the mystery of women.

I stand, swept up in the camaraderie of the moment, raise my glass of whiskey and diet, and declare, "Bow to the power of the vagina!"

Dead, cold silence. Picture about two dozen heads swung my way.

I sit and giggle a little. Mikey busts out laughing, Deb laughs a bit nervously.

I take a sip of my cocktail. The bar recovers.

Blurting just may be my Kiki!

Latest Obsessions

Mahjong

want to learn. want to start a group. want to buy.

Winnebago

still and always

Handbags

still and always

Shoes for Retail

cuter than you might think

Chair for Living Room

maybe. still thinking. i'll know when i see it.

Sock Monkey Madness

Indulgence

I don't really know why this tickled my nickle, but what better way to shop for shoes than by wearing comfy sock monkey slippers and drinking coffee? Bliss!

Weird Obsessions?

Yes, my name is Deborah and I love Sock Monkees.

I love how they make both the butt and lips from the sock heel! How clever is that hmm?

Look at this darling little lavender one. The old, sad looking one is Burt. I bought him at a church bazaar (yes it WAS bizarre) back in the mid 70s. He is very tired.

I don't know why I'm posting about my love for the sock monkee. (I think I'm tired and wacky from studying.)

Let's talk about weird loves (obsessions).

• sock monkees
• luggage - love luggage! Train cases are a current passion. And I've never even traveled on a train
• dishes - I've spoken about it here. I have a very hard time passing up on brilliant dish sets. A current craving is for an old set of white cafe dishes. You know the ones. Very thick. Very nummy white
• handbags. Oh dear, I'll have to show all of mine sometime. It's a tad embarrassing though. I have an awesome collection of vintage bags as well
• daisies - I love them. My office is strewn with stuff with daisies painted or drawn or etched. My only tat is of a daisy
• office supplies. I really am a nerd. The most exciting thing about going back to school was all the cool office supplies I would need
• slippers - I have many pairs of scruffs. I cannot walk around barefoot. It totally squidges me out

I could go on until you want to poke out your eyes with hot sticks.

Tell me your obsessions!

Obsession

I have a new one.

I’ve been toying with my wrecking ball approach to a new me for a bit now. I do love the phrase “wrecking ball.” It alludes (with a huge iron ball!) to tearing down the old to make way for new new new. I’ve been floundering around a bit in my ADD way and having some trouble getting started.

So one morning I’m reading my blogs from Google Reader and listening to the Lori & Julia Show from fm107. A guest on the show is The Makeover Guy, Christopher Hopkins. Here is his wiki page.

I live in the land of gorgeous people and even better hair. There is great hair in the Minneapolis area! There is really bad hair too (sorry Fridley and Coon Rapids), but in the Minneapolis and the St. Paul urban area you can park your arse in many different locations and watch the gorgeous hair walk by. If you’re quick, you can run one of these incredibly fit people down and pound the name of their salon out of them. Maybe.

After all, we’re the home to Aveda (I grew up in Highland Park – home to Horst of Austria, the father of Aveda), Rocco Altobelli, Jon English Salon, Juut, Christopher's own ReVamp Salon, and so many others – one better than the next. I’ve been to more of them than I can count, but we’re not going to go into my hair-history. I don’t want to cry.

So I’m listening to Christopher Hopkins talk on the show and I remember that I own his book, Staging Your Comeback: A Complete Beauty Revival for Women Over 45. I run over to my bookcase to find it!

I bought it a couple of years ago when it came out. Christopher (imagine me saying that like Adriana from the Sopranos – Kristafah!) is a local style expert. Hair, lifestyle, fashion, decorating, everything. I’ve seen many of his makeovers on television, read about him in the newspaper, and listened to him on the radio over the years. In fact one of the Second Act women in his book is my former boss from Hazelden, Linda. I squealed when I saw her in the book! She is a lovely woman and he made her seriously stunning.

I met Christopher once myself. Or should I say I startled/annoyed him once.

I wish!

A woman I used to work with, Amy, is the niece of Uncle Gary – Minneapolis man-for-everything. I love Uncle Gary. In fact, he once said to me, “Bettie, (he thought I looked like Bettie Page) if I were straight, I would make you howl at the moon,” but I am going off-point.

Amy had gotten tickets from her Uncle Gary to a posh club opening and her hubbins, Bubba, wouldn’t go. She asked me.

I fretted over my outfit, makeup, hair, everything. We were going to be hanging out with all the Snaabs that our area can serve up. And the people at the club were beautiful! It was a blast to just hang at the bar, chat up the cute bartenders, drink the horrible sweet free drinks, eat the brilliant free tappas, and get an eyeful of all that is beautiful in Minneapolis. Oh the gorgeousness!

Amy turned to me and said, “We are the ugly bettys in the room you know.” I had to agree. With my Ann Taylor Loft outfit (I panicked – what can I say?) and her weird shawl, we really were a pair.

But after some lubrication of the alcohol-type, a gathering around us of fun people we somehow knew, and a few new people drawn to us because we’re fun, we really begin to laugh and sparkle.

I followed Amy outside to cool off and watch her smoke when I spotted Christopher.

“Christopher!,” I screeched. He turned, startled, towards me. I was just drunk enough to let my social-tourette's have its way. I saw his face go through several thoughts, do I know this woman? No, I don’t. Who is she? Is she dangerous? No – she’s just badly dressed. I saw it! Brilliant!

He looked me up and down and said, “I can see what you’re trying to do here.” Oh! Amy and I collapsed into laughter.

“I know Uncle Gary, Christopher! He loves me!”

The drunken, bitchy woman-lawyer that was hanging with us turned to me and spat, “Uncle Gary loves everyone you dumb-ass.” So much for Christopher and me having a connection.

Ugly bettys indeed! Hey, I’m more comfortable at Whiskey Junction. I drive a Jeep Wrangler, not an Audi.

Back to the book.

I’m excited. I am loving this book. It goes into DETAIL! Detail is important. It’s easy to just tell women, find a good stylist, get wardrobe basics, eat right, work out, blah blah blah. This book has details. Step by step details that appeal to my ADD.

I’ll report on my progress.