Hurricane Sandy

     I hope all of you have survived the hurricane without incurring any injury or damage.  My thoughts and prayers go out to those who suffered loss and damage. God bless.

"Pokers and Rulers"

     As many of you know, I am a spelling snob. That snobbishness also overlaps into grammar and syntax.  If I were a college professor, I would have zero patience for the ineptitude at the aforementioned by many of the younger college level students. (Please be assured that I am not referring to students for whom English is a second language.)      

     Oftentimes, we are called upon to read aloud in class.  I have been amazed at some of my fellow students’ inability to pronounce fairly common words, to recognize the flow of sentences, to incorporate inflection, and also to understand the meaning and structure of a paragraph. This has been evident in a number of classes I have taken, but is especially noticeable now, given that this is an English course. I am quite sure that our Professor witnesses me expressing my displeasure through non verbal cues, as I cringe,  roll my eyes, or express shock with each infraction.

      Growing up, I attended strict Catholic schools. We had Sisters teaching us, armed with rulers and pokers, which they were not disinclined to utilize as a means of “motivation”. Their stringency however, was at times usurped by that of the lay teachers.  I remember in one class, a particular student was made to sit in the front of the classroom on a stool, wearing a dunce cap. Additionally, some of the children had their mouths either taped shut, or stuffed with large balls of paper to keep them from talking excessively. Sometimes we would have detention, and have to copy from the dictionary. (The severity of this punishment pales in comparison to some of the others.)  Additionally, it was pointless for the children to enlighten their parents about any of this, as the result would be ensuing parental punishment.

     When I was ten, my Mom and I were visiting relatives in California. My aunt and uncle were at their wits’ end, as their eight year old son was incorrigible, and the teacher could not control him. (He attended public school!)  My Mom advised them to call the school, and authorize the teacher to spank him, right in front of the class!  They were somewhat taken aback by this, but they did it. Those were certainly different times, and vastly different parenting methods.

     Can you imagine any of these methods of “discipline” occurring in a present day classroom? Any and all of it would be grounds for a lawsuit nowadays. I am not declaring that I am in agreement with some of those harsher methods, especially humiliation.  However, most of us came out of those classes of the sixties and early seventies with a good education, and a sense of self discipline.  Personally, I was more damaged by teasing from fellow students than by anything the teachers did. Of course, I never suffered most of those punishments, because I chose to behave myself.  In that respect, I was smart!

 

"Emoticons"

     In my Communications class, we are learning about the use of emoticons in mediated communication.  This could not come at a more opportune time, as it is assisting me in my ability to communicate with the "younger man" on the Internet.  In my semi-senior ignorance, I thought there were only two active emoticons, as in happy :)  and sad  :( .  Unbeknownst to me, there are... sixty-one!  Well, apparently, the young man is more up on that stuff than I am. In a recent Email, he ended a statement with the following emoticon:  ";)". I attributed the symbol to a typo error, and believed it to be a happy face.  I have been enlightened  (by twenty-something son #1) to the fact that this was in fact, not a typo error, but an indication that the "young man" was winking at me. I promptly referred to my newly printed listing of emoticons, and ended a subsequent Email to him with the following: ";;)". This means that I'm...batting my eyelashes!   I've been practically rolling on the floor =)) with laughter over this exchange, while my son has indicated that he is becoming emotionally scarred from the it.  (I told you my sons are less than thrilled!) My response to them:

"#;". That means "talk to the hand". By the way, I need to use my Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass to actually see the symbols on my printed list. :(

   

"A Man of Few Words"

     Remember me telling you that I was drawn to the younger fellow on the internet dating sight because he can spell and form sentences?  Allow me to explicate my reasoning.  One of my friends, who is a spelling snob like me, belongs to the same site.  Recently, a fellow sent her a message indicating to her that he is "New Jersey born and... bread". This is exactly what I mean! I would have to delete this guy immediately, as did my equally astute friend.  Now granted, not everyone is a good speller, but this is just beyond acceptable.

     Another fellow contacted me that I had limited contact with previously. He had never asked me any questions, although I made inquiries regarding his interests. I hadn't heard anything in two or three weeks, and then he Emailed me. The content of his email: Hi. Apparently he is a man of few words. I didn't answer right away, and then he Emailed me again, indicating that he would like to hear from me. I responded, simply asking how he was doing.  His reply merely indicated that he had worked all day and was busy around the house. I get the feeling that communication would be problematic with this one. Although, his being a man of few words could be a plus...

"Fashion Aficionado"

     If I had a theme song, it would be “Does Your Mother Know That You’re Out?” If you’ve seen Mama Mia, you know of what I speak. The reason I mention this? The young man asked for my phone number!  We’ve been Emailing back and forth a bit, and I reiterate-he is the only one who expresses any actual interest in me as a person! I’m really chicken about giving him my number, though. I’m going to suggest chatting online first. By the way-my 30-something and 20-something sons are less than thrilled about this…

     I am reading 1984 for my Fiction & Film class. I hate it. (I am quite sure this is the first time I’ve actually complained about an assignment.)  I am persevering, though. I read 100 pages yesterday.  I will also be compelled to watch the movie. A friend of mine indicated to me that the movie is inappropriate for children. Do you think I should mention this to my professor before he shows the film in class?     

     As previously mentioned, I am looking for a job. I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when I received a phone call in regards to scheduling an interview.  I have a dilemma, though.  I have had to invest in some interview appropriate suits and accessories.  This is not the most opportune time for me to be purchasing new clothes. Of course I didn’t have a choice in this instance...but I did have a choice regarding the additional blouse, sweater, and jeans that I purchased.  I simply could not help myself! Now granted, I am no fashion aficionado, but I am wild about the colors that are popular this fall.  I hope I get that job…or a rich boyfriend!

"Bridge Not Burned"

     Well, the young man is persistent. He indicated that the age difference would not matter, and if we enjoy eachother’s company, that’s what counts. He also is the first of these guys to ask about ME! Simple stuff, like how was my day, and what do I do for fun. No one else that I spoke to asked me anything about myself. And here’s another thing-he can spell, and write in sentences! This fellow is beginning to look very appealing.  Most of the guys I’ve encountered can’t spell or use proper grammar.

     When I was young, I liked to go out with older men.  Back in my twenties, I was perfectly okay with the May-December romance. (Conversely, I am not okay with it now.)  Additionally, now I have metamorphosed into December, although I prefer to think of myself October.  He is more like March. I know I would never have the energy to keep up with this guy, and I doubt he would be okay with my subdued lifestyle. But he is so cute…and quite frankly, I really like that he knows how to write properly...

No surprise there...

"Burning Bridges"

     This week I found school to be both gratifying and enlightening. I had my first exam in Communications, and my grade was “A+”. Professor noted the students’ names and corresponding test grades on the blackboard, and mine was on top. (I was so proud.) Twenty-something son #1 philosophized that we were probably listed by age, beginning with the oldest! The stinker!

     I never cease to be amazed at the number of students who come to class totally unprepared.  Every week a minimum of three students will indicate that they haven’t performed the required reading. This happens in my Communications class as well as Fiction & Film. We had a test on a novel this evening, a novel that we had six weeks to read.  One student indicated that he had watched a corresponding documentary, and another indicated that he had watched the corresponding movie. All pretty standard shirking methods, right?  Another, more innovative student, explained his unique method, which I feel compelled to share with you: he reads the first ten pages, the last ten pages, and twenty pages in the middle. Who needs Cliff notes? 

     These kids are also not concerned if they earn a bad grade because generally, a professor will drop the lowest test grade.  I remember going to class occasionally unprepared back in High School, but we certainly never had that luxury, at least not in the strict Catholic school that I attended.

     And here’s a little tidbit about my latest internet dating escapade!  I had a message from a thirty nine year old, indicating that he thought I was cute. (First let me say that he really made my day. I even shared his assessment on Facebook!)  So I perused his profile, and he appears to be no more than twenty five.  He also stated that he’s looking for a girl to share his life. (That leaves me out.) So I politely thanked him for the compliment, and indicated to him that our age difference would prove to be problematic. I have to admit he is pretty cute. I let him know I thought so, too!  No need to burn bridges…

"Pounding the Pavement"

“The Love of My Life”

Finally, I have found the great love of my life,

Through my pad and my pen, it’s my ability to write.

This love will surely never break my heart.

From other loves, this is what sets her apart.

It is this great love through which I will heal

By channeling all of the emotions I feel.

She has always been with me whenever I cried.

Because of her I’ve had the strength to abide.

I will always be grateful for this talent I possess.

I realize in my heart, that I’ve truly been blessed.

     I penned this little piece in July for my Creative Writing class, at a time when I was feeling quite upbeat.  Since then, I have lost my job. It wasn’t unexpected, but the negative impact it has had on me was…Strangely, I’ve hardly been writing in the last five weeks that I’ve been unemployed, not even in my journal. Additionally, I’ve only written two or three blog posts, and only one poem. 

     This is so out of character for me.  Over the summer, there were many days when I would sit at my computer happily writing for eight hours at a clip.  So why is my writing eluding me now when I need it so badly?  I forced myself to go out for a walk today, as the weather was picture perfect, and regular exercise has also been lacking in my life.  I contemplated my dilemma further while briskly pounding the pavement (no, not that kind. I job hunt daily. Mostly, my fingers do the walking!)  I became aware that it is probably that  I   have abandoned writing,  rather than the reverse. 

     Sometimes I allow being downhearted to get the best of me. Today I came to the familiar realization that I need to push myself to get on with it. Moreover, I gave some thought to folks who have more severe problems than I, some of which can’t be fixed. I only have to read the news to realize how fortunate I am.  It is time to get off the pity pot, and revert back to my “attitude of gratitude”. I have a lot to be grateful for…

"Proverbs"

     I love proverbs. My mother had a zillion of them. When proverbs are a category on Jeopardy, I almost always know the correct response. This week, I put a couple of those proverbs to work. My mom would be so proud...

     1. “Do write, fear no man. Don’t write, fear no woman”.  Some of my fellow tenants had a wild party Saturday night that lasted until 2:00 A.M. They had a barbeque in our apartment courtyard, and served lots of booze.  Since this has become a weekly occurrence, I hit the boiling point, and brought my concerns to management. The neighbor who hosted the party was “smart” enough to send out invitations to all of us tenants, and it clearly indicated that beer would be served. Hence, “don't write, fear no woman”. I provided the office with a copy of the invitation, along with a detailed dissertation describing the events of the evening, accompanied by the rules on our leases, which nobody adheres to, except me.

     2. “A picture is worth a thousand words.”  Some of these neighbors were none too bright, as they left their empty shot glasses, and a myriad of other evidence (their trash) on the front porch. Oh, the handrail was broken, too. I took five or six photos, and included them with the invitation and my dissertation. I pointed out that this would certainly be a deterrent to prospective tenants. That may help gain management’s attention.

     3. “The pen is mightier than the sword.”  Anyone who knows me knows that I can write a scathingly hostile (and effective) letter or poem.  I am quite certain that my powers of persuasion will have an impact on the party situation, and even if it doesn’t, it is cause enough for me to break my lease. 

     4. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”  I don’t think I need to elaborate on this one…

     By the way, all the little party animals are annoyed with me because I confronted them about the situation. Wait until they find out I complained to the office as well!

     Of course, I don’t know what makes them think people might want to sleep at night…

"Wedding Guest"

     I can't help but think that there’s something wrong with this wedding. First of all, it isn’t mine. You know me-always a bridesmaid, never a bride… I’ve got Catherine Heigel’s “27 Dresses” saga beat, tenfold.  Okay, that is a bit of a stretch…I did have a couple weddings of my own. However, I never did the elaborate church production, white gown thing either time. I was far too impulsive.  I do, however, know of people who go that route every time…I find it puzzling. But, to each his own...

     One thing I detest about weddings is the choice of music at the reception.  I am particularly irritated when they slow things down in order to “get all of the couples” on the dance floor.  This concept is especially insensitive to recent divorcees and widows or widowers.  I can certainly understand that the DJ or band leader may be disinclined to consider such issues, but there is no excuse for the bride and groom. Some people are just too self absorbed to consider the feelings of others. Or maybe they are simply preoccupied.  Either way, it is unpleasant for the guest who is on their own.

     I seriously doubt that I would ever travel down the marriage road again. Being of a certain age, one is faced with a whole new set of issues.  Failing health and limited mobility are an eventual probability, on both sides.  One thing is absolute-I am getting too old to be bending down picking up some man’s dirty laundry.  Who would help me up?  

     Additionally, any money or material possessions I have, I earned.  Granted, I don’t have much, but nevertheless, what I have is mine, and I’m not sharing.  I also value my independence. I sleep with my TV on all night, I have the bed to myself, I come and go as I please, and I rarely cook.  The only male I am committed to is my 106 lb. Lab, and he has yet to master the art of backtalk.  So, the next time I am invited to one of these white dress events, I will politely decline, and spend the evening cuddling with my “silent” significant other, the one who walks on all fours, is extraordinarily handsome, and loves me to bits.