We are all in the same boat...and it's sinking...

My husband had to let all of his employees go, and physically close down their office, last month.  He can do what he does (medical billing) from home.  Thankfully. 

I had to significantly reduce the hours of my one full-time employee last month...she decided to leave instead, which I can totally understand.  My paychecks the last four months have been not enough to pay the bills, and my husband's are zero...doctors don't feel like they need to pay their bills, which I also understand, since they are being stripped of most of their income by Medicare as it is, and most of which will retire when "Obamacare" is put in place.  I know that all of my doctors are hanging it up next year...

The point of this is, I had a friend of 25 years lose his business, his wife, his savings, everything he had, recently, and decided to move back to Texas after being away for 10 years or so...his wife also came back even sooner because she has family here - we are all on good terms, so it's okay. 

However, when my friend called me and asked if he could come visit to check out the possibilities, he went back home, packed up his car with the necessities, and moved the hell back to Texas.  He is staying with us for however long he needs to - because that's what friends do...there is no time limit, there is no "rent", we do for each other whatever we can do and make no expectations or limitations on friendship.  There is so little of that in this world now, that when you find that, cherish it...that unconditional love between friends is so rare that when you do have it, be so thankful and grateful and never take advantage of it...I have a handful of friends that I have that with, the ones I can call if I haven't talked to them in months, and pick up right where we left off.  These friends were the ones I found working at Safari Bar in Arlington mostly...except for the girls - there are only two, my "sister" that I've known since 8th grade, and my "bartender bitch" that I've known for 20 years...

The point...which I didn't actually get to...is that so many of us in our generation (60's, 70's) are in such bad places - bankruptcy (yes), foreclosures (yes), IRS issues (yes) - but these are not things we want to talk about, so we feel so alone and like failures.  We aren't alone!  There are so many of us out there going through the same things, but embarrassed to share with anyone (of course), that we can't be there to support each other!  I've only just realized how many others are going through the same awful situations as we are...

One thing that scares me most, and I'm not even a parent - is what are the kids going to be left with?  I am one of those adult women in my 40's that still have to go to my parents when the car breaks down or we have just flat run out of money for the month...and there are a lot of us who hate to admit that - I HATE it to have to make that call...I know my parents have the money to be able to help me, but I HATE that we aren't capable at this age to make it on our own!  So of course we have no retirement...we will have to work until we die....for those who do have some retirement at our age, what is going to happen to that by the time you retire?  It may be pillaged and gone by the government...

So when our generation's kids need help, who can they go to?  We don't have it, we're barely scraping by day-to-day...and heaven forbid should there be grandkids already and you aren't financially solid....you better hope your kids are finacially stable too.  And we are already depleting OUR parent's inheritances with all the help we need - I know that I've made a big dent in that, however I would rather have the time with my parents than money when they pass away (which might be after me, as healthy as they are!).

I don't know what the answer is, but I do know that just talking with my friend, just opening my home (as crappy as it is) with no conditions, has helped me feel a little better - there are more of us in the same boat than we know, and we need to start talking to each other so we can help each other, rather than pretending nothing is wrong and the Titanic isn't sinking, cause the band is still playing....

Cooking is an Art Form and a Passion...and I'm not a passionate artist...

I am constantly amazed and in awe of people that have the capability to take raw ingredients, and just whip them into something wonderful and edible.  This capacity is lost on me...I can look at individual items, and just never comprehend how to make them into food.  If I have a very specific recipe, I can do that - but I don't enjoy it...I think for cooking to be good, the person doing has to like what they are doing.  Those that are blessed with a passion for it, I'm envious - I have a deficiency of my Betty Crocker gland apparently.  Yet another weird "rare genetic disorder" that I seem to be blessed with (and that's another story altogether).  I watch lots of shows on Food Network, and it might as well be the SyFy channel for all that I understand what the hell is going on!

I have a handful of recipes that I can do well - tuna casserole (without nutmeg now...see below), shepherd's pie, chicken pot pie, lasagna, beef & noodles, grilled cheese, and meatloaf.  And my meatloaf rocks (and no, there's NO ketchup in my recipe, that's just gross).  But I have to have a very wild hair going to WANT to even bother cooking any of them.  Thank goodness my poor husband knows this, and will feed us both most nights.  And I feel guilty that I don't like to cook - I hate it, in fact.  I feel that I'm not fulfilling my wifely duties some how by not even wanting to cook.

Last night for instance, which happened to be Valentine's Day, I was all prepared to go do the grocery shopping for some steaks (which the husband would have to do on the grill), baked potatoes (I can do the poking with a fork and wrapping in foil, and put the condiments out), one of those bags of salad, and a frozen cheesecake.  I can handle all that, but I was (silently in my head of course) dreading it.  My husband ROCKS - because when I called him to find out if I needed to get anything else at the grocery, he informed me he had already gone to the store, and got all the ingredients for sour cream chicken enchiladas, which I LOVE!  What a great husband I have!  The dinner would have been the best Valentine's gift, but he also got me a Forever Lazy (which I didn't even have to tell him I wanted, he just knows me so well...I love my husband!)...

So why do I so hate cooking?  Is it just something innate in me, or is it my kitchen (which is frustrating in it's lack of counter space and no electrical outlets where they are needed, to say the least)? My mom was a stay-at-home mom until I was 13, then after we moved to Texas she went to work.  She was the "June Cleaver" housewife in my mind when I was a kid - we always had dinner together at the table, and while Mom's repertoire may not have been extensive, it was all edible.  Yes we had TV dinners occasionally, or Swanson's pot pies, or the box of Chef Boyardee pizza on Friday nights (which we loved)...but it was mainly the typical dinners that all my friends in the late 60's and through the 70's and 80's were eating.  I didn't know any different at that time.  And then we moved to Texas, and there was CHICKEN FRIED STEAK!  We didn't know anything about this growing up in Ohio!!  Although to date I don't believe my mom has ever tried to cook chicken fried steak...

The first time I tried to cook - I was 13, Mom had gone off to work, so my younger brother and I were home for a couple hours by ourselves after school.  I thought I could make the tuna casserole, since I had watched Mom do it all my life.  First of all, I somehow started a fire on the burner that got put out with a whole bag of flour...at least I didn't burn down the damn kitchen, but burnt flour is a huge mess!  And secondly, apparently nutmeg isn't one of the ingredients in tuna casserole.  I just saw Mom putting a bunch of different spices in the mix, and having no idea what the hell nutmeg was for, in it went...it's dinner and dessert all in the same dish!  Thank God I at least knew that cinnamon shouldn't be included - that was for cinnamon/sugar toast...

So cooking is not something that is instinctual for me - I have to have explicit instructions apparently.  I really want to find that desire and love for cooking...maybe it will take a new kitchen?  That's on our wish list as soon as our new business venture takes off...

In the meantime - Mama's Pizza makes a kick-ass pizza, which I gladly make the drive to pick up.  Genghis Grill has excellent Mongolian grill bowls.  Pluckers is great for wings.  And my best friend Elizabeth just introduced us to the Food Truck Park in Fort Worth - Dough Boy's Pizza Truck, The Bacon Wagon, Lee's Grilled Cheese (http://www.leesgrilledcheese.com/), Red Jett Sweets (http://www.redjettsweets.com/, who I'm about to begin stalking...mmm, cupcakes!) - all are excellent!  We've also found a genuine authentic Italian place, it's mainly a brew pub but they offer pizza and a couple of pasta dishes that are to die for - Zio Carlo's on Magnolia in Fort Worth.  I've never sucked down an entire 12" pizza faster in my life!  These are the real deal - my parents lived in Italy for five years, and Carlo's food is just like we got over there!  And El Gabacho off Bowen Road in Arlington - excellent Mexican food!  As is Marianos near Six Flags.

In Dallas, where I lived for a couple years, there are several places off Lower Greenville that are great - Terillis, Blue Goose, Trinity Hall, Cafe Izmir (the best chicken basil wraps)...and the Pluckers there delivers until 3am!!  I do miss that...

So we have lots of restaurants we love, but that gets expensive - so lots of nights we have grilled cheese, which I could eat every day, or whatever else my husband feels like cooking...I've been truly blessed to have a husband that understands my aversion to cooking.  I just wish I could figure out how to change that, and to enjoy (and understand) cooking!
 

Are people actually functionally illiterate or just lazy?

So I run an online business...we do over $100k in sales every month, me and two employees that do our shipping...being basically a one-woman show is challenging at times (my girls only do the packing and slapping of labels on the packages - I do everything else - yes, I have control issues).

Believe me, I am far from complaining...I have a steady, solid income that covers all our bills and leaves plenty for our travels, vices (shoes), etc.  My husband's company, that he runs with his father, has been extremely challenging the last few years, to say the least...my husband has taken about a dozen paychecks in the five years we've been together, simply because there wasn't enough money left to pay himself or his dad at the end of the month.  So yes, my business does provide more than enough for both of us - my husband is now moving into another area of business that we are both invested in and believe will be our retirement income - http://www.bkbenergy.igniteinc.biz/ for more information on that venture...

So what am I ranty about this time?  It's the quantity of time-wasting emails I have to answer every day simply because people don't bother to read the information I have spent the time to provide up front about the items they wish to purchase.  And yes, I know that it is just a part of the business - but if I could spend the time I waste answering stupid emails instead listing new items or taking care of other business, I could continue building my business faster!  The number of emails I receive answering dumb questions that are already answered if they looked past the picture of the item, is astounding to me on some days...some examples...

"I'll give you $5.00 including shipping on this item" (that is currently listed at $22.50, and clearly stated that we don't accept offers).

"I purchased this item three days ago and just realized I gave you the wrong address to ship to - please ship to..." (we ship within 24 hours in most cases, and don't always read our emails first - how hard is it to verify your shipping address?).

"This item is clearly a fake, and I demand a refund right now or I'll leave negative feedback, and I'm keeping the item" (yeah, we have so much time on our hands that we can fake a brand-name product so well that 99.9% of our customers are happy with it).

"Do you ship to (insert some random country here)?" (all the countries we ship to are clearly listed).

"Where's my stuff? It's been three days and I haven't received it!" (BECAUSE YOU LIVE IN FRICKING AUSTRALIA, AND I CLEARLY STATE IT CAN AND DOES TAKE 4-6 WEEKS FOR DELIVERY!!!!)  Can you tell this one gets me especially pissed off, because I get a dozen of these every day...

The list goes on and on - and these are the majority of the emails I receive.  The legitimate questions or issues are the minority, only a handful every day - most are because people either can't or won't read the very simple information they are all provided up front!

The most recent buyer that was disgruntled was mad because the item she purchased (she's in Australia), was noted in the information as having a universal charger.  It doesn't include an adapter, so it didn't say it had one - just the universal charger.  Of the 300+ buyers of this item, most of whom are international, she is the only one who didn't get the concept.  She demanded that because my description was misleading, that I provide her with an adapter...the whole reason there isn't an adapter in the package is because they are different for every country!!!  Then she proceeded to tell me how to run my business, and that I should state specifically in my listing that it doesn't include an adapter, just because she is stupid...

Which kinda makes a whole other point here - we play to the lowest common denominator on so many levels, that people no longer have to think for themselves or even read...if it's not explicitly spelled out for them (and even when it is), they feel that they've been duped and take umbrage, claiming that we've tricked them somehow.  I'm sick of everyone pandering to the lazy and stupid because they are the loudest and bitchiest...how about raising the bar, and those that can't reach it, well that's their problem. 

As a middle-class white female, I was never handed a single thing for free in my life, and I never expected to be.  I have worked hard for everything I have (which isn't spectacular, but comfortable), and I resent greatly those that feel that the government, or those better off than they are, owe them because they chose not to rise above whatever circumstances they were dealt.  I've been dealt some crap hands too, but I made my choice to get past whatever that crap was (hello?  cancer?  with no health insurance?).  I fundamentally don't understand people that choose to be a "victim of soycumstance" (must be said like Curly from the Three Stooges!)....

Enough...the dogs are flapping their gums at me because dinner time is in four minutes, and heaven forbid should I be late!  Duke is already flipping bowls around in the kitchen....

Oh, by the way, about the hormonal symptoms...

I forgot to mention, that as of my last injection of Sotto Pelle hormones, I am down to TWO prescriptions - one for blood pressure (which annoyingly remains high for no apparent reason), and an anti-depressant that I have to take for Achalasia disorder (a swallowing problem).  I am taking several vitamin supplements, but I would rather take vitamins than eleven prescriptions.  I am off the daily sleeping pill, the daily anti-anxiety, the as-needed-more-often-than-not muscle relaxers and Xanax, two cholesterol meds, and one of the blood pressure meds...I do still have a prescription for water retention and one for something else that I can't remember, because they are as needed and haven't been needed!  Hooray!  Life is good!  And very little self-medicating with Jagermeister anymore either...that was a big sign that the hormones weren't working, because the physiological need for SOMETHING to alleviate all the day's anxiety and stress is no longer there.

I'm not kidding ladies...if you are entering that phase of life where hormone replacement might be something to consider, ask your doctor about Sotto Pelle.  Visit http://www.mrmgyn.com/ - it's my doctor's website, and links to information on Sotto Pelle.  It's been a lifesaver.  There is no reason that a reasonably healthy woman of 45 should be on 11 prescriptions, most of which were things that were fixed with the right dose of hormones!

My babies...

My dogs are my babies - I can't have kids, and never necessarily want them.  Not that children aren't wonderful, and I know I would be a great mom, but you can get in trouble with CPS for leaving your kids in the backyard with a bowl of food when you go to work.  And the bark collars REALLY cause a problem with the authorities...

So here are my "children"...and no, I don't really leave them outside or make them wear bark collars - they are completely spoiled, but never rotten (well, almost never)...

Susan Elizabeth Woogie (The Woogie, or Woog Woogs for short)

She is the 10-year-old "diva"...she was my husband's dog first, and had to make a major adjustment when me and my two dogs moved in five years ago.  She let me know with the sarcastic roll of her eyes exactly where she saw me on the food chain.  Woogie goes to work with my husband every day, and you can see her laughing at the other dogs as she skips out the door.  She is addicted to carbs - God forbid should I walk in with Auntie Anne's pretzels or King's Hawaiian Rolls - she will knock me down and run off with the bag...it's gone before I get off the ground.  Five years later, we all have an understanding...I let her think that she is still the woman of the house, and always let her have her way, and we get along just fine.

Duke (or Duke Skylicker, when he's getting a good ass-scratching)...

Dukie is my big doofus of a dog, he is just a love sponge.  He hasn't met anyone (that we purposely allow in the house anyway) that he doesn't like, is a sucker for his stuffed toys (of which he has at least 30, Pillow Pets being the majority), and can hear a peanut butter M&M being removed from the package a mile away.  I have never seen such a fool for peanut butter M&Ms (Note:  I DO NOT feed my dogs chocolate, so don't get all upset...the peanut butter M&Ms are almost all peanut butter, and in six years he hasn't had any bad reaction to the half-dozen or so he receives each evening...).  Duke was adopted by a friend from the SPCA at six weeks old, and my friend realized about six weeks later that he couldn't care for a puppy.  I originally took him in as a foster until my friend could get his living situation situated, but after a nasty bout with Parvo that should have taken Dukie's life, I knew he was staying with me.  There's nothing like a big old dog head in your lap to relieve stress and depression.

Daisy Boo...there are no words to describe her...

She is part black Lab, part Golden Retriever, part something very short.  Her little legs are about six inches long, but her body is about two feet long...however she has the cutest face ever.  She's now 13-years old, but doesn't show her age at all except for a little bit of gray around her lips.  She's the tattle-tale and the troublemaker, who runs to tell me when the other dogs are misbehaving, yet does things you wouldn't think she could manage (like pull over the trash can) and blame it on the other dogs.  She's smart as a whip and loves harassing the Woogie, and she will be the one who lives to be 20 and keep up her antics the entire time!  She also goes by Twirly-Girly, since she twirls in circles in front of us to let us know she wants out, because she can't reach the bells on the back door knob that the big dogs use to tell us it's potty time.  I got her for free from the folks that had the litter, and she was the runt and going to be put down the next day if no one took her.  She was painfully shy around most people her whole life before we moved in here...she is now a social butterfly, and gives Woogie a run for her money for the "diva" title.

As you might have guessed, none of our dogs have official papers, although two are full-blood black Labs (and we will always have Labs, they are the best dogs ever)...all three were adopted and/or rescued.  Please support your local SPCA and Humane Society - they are great causes!  (Cue the weepy Sarah MacLachlan song here...)

My "Cranky Pants" aren't so cranky today...

...must be due to the hormones.  The doctor told me when I had my first implant three months ago that I would just know when it was time for a new injection - I had no idea how I would know.  Well, I finally figured out that I KNEW, but it took me a couple weeks.  I just had my second injection this week, and I feel great again.  However the mood leading up to the injection was bleak, and the correlation finally dawned on me right before I was scheduled for my second injection. 

I had bad insomnia - literally three nights a week I wouldn't sleep at all.  Thank God for my Kindle - I read a book and a half on Monday night, and went to my doctor's appointment after another sleepless night.  The insomnia led to depression and anxiety creeping back in - I didn't want to get out of bed some days, and was stressed about little things.  It's been four days now, and I feel back to normal again.  A good night's sleep, a good meal with family and friends tonight, and life is good.

Which in a roundabout way leads me to my point - or whatever it is I'm babbling about.  I have one girlfriend - my best friend - that I have known for more than 30 years and I would trust my life to.  We lost touch for many years, but once we made up our minds to stay in touch regularly, we revert immediately to the goofy 14-year old girls that met on a field trip, and bonded by sharing a room on the 14th floor of the Hilton in San Antonio, spent tossing pizza and gummy bears on to the cabs parked below.  We speak each other's language, so to speak.  No other female that I have met before or since gets my twisted sense of humor, or shares my values (other than family, since it appears to be genetic) .  That's important - shared values.  And it's taken me a lot of years to figure that out.

My best friend and I can go a month without talking, but always pick up right where we leave off.  We had dinner tonight with my parents, and we spent most of the evening trying not to shoot our beverage out our noses while laughing.  It's always a game to see who will snort first (it was Elizabeth tonight, after her SO made a comment having to do with Reese's Feces, which  I won't even try to explain).  I have lots of female friends and aquaintances, but only one best friend for life.  And that is more than enough - I'm truly blessed to have her in my life.  And I don't tell her that enough.  So this is my mushy "love letter" to my best friend, I guess. 

Several years ago, after a particularly brutal relationship ended, I suddenly felt the need to TELL the people in my life that I love them regularly.  It may drive family nuts when I talk to them on the phone, because I always end the conversation with "love you!", and I mean it.  My husband has learned that he can't hang up the phone without telling me.  My aunt Jane always laughs, but she says it back.  I tell my ex-husband, and I mean it, just not in the "husband & wife" way.  My best friend Elizabeth has never laughed, and always says it back - half the time she says it first.  Those three little words, when said with meaning, truly do have an impact.  I will call Elizabeth back if I forget to tell her "love you!" before I hang up the phone...and it makes my day brighter to know that she gets it, she understands the importance.

I know, I know, I'm getting maudlin and depressing, and entirely too mushy for most's comfort...I'll go back to being my typical snarky opinionated bitchedy person soon, I promise...love you! :-)