Thursday, July 12, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
4. and 5. "Unfortunately for my son, some parents took the request for little or no waste to mean 'Don't bother bringing a present,' which, at the end of what turned out to be an eight-hour extravaganza, ended with my son storming off to his room." I don't even know where to start with that sentence. What are parents supposed to bring to a no-waste party? A sack of flour? In a biodegradable unbleached cotton sack, no doubt. Also, maybe your kid stormed off to his room because eight hours of anything is about seven hours too long.
Monday, January 23, 2012
I don’t like to admit that I read Dooce.com. That blog ain’t exactly Dostoyevsky. But, I love that fallen Mormon chick who lives in Salt Lake City. She’s got two cool kids and two cool dogs. A husband who has his own blog, all about design and photography and stuff. She swears a lot. She makes me laugh. She posts with a regularity that I can only aspire to. (It's like she's the valedictorian of posting.) Her photos are out of this world, and she’s the reason I bought the most expensive camera I could afford.
Sometimes, I try to tell myself I won’t read her anymore, like when she’s talking about Bangladesh or training for her stupid marathon, but I always come back. I can’t quit Coca-Cola and I can’t quit Dooce. There, I said it.
So, when I read that she and her husband had separated, I was all surprised and sad. So much so that my friend Roger said, “Are you actually UPSET that Dooce and her husband broke up? You’re upset. About the Internet chick you’ve never met.”
I said, “No, no of course not. I’m upset about Seal and Heidi.”
But what I really meant was, “I’m SO SAD about Dooce!" Damn. That sucks. I thought those bloggernauts would make it in this crazy world.
So here is my message to my favorite blogger:
Dooce, I know there’s a lot of haters out there, but I’m all about hater-free zones. So, if you need my private jet or the use of my Swiss chalet, just say the word. Just consider it a gift from one mogul to another.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Because so many of you asked me to weigh in on the Paula Deen situation, I feel that I must.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
You ever had an enemy you forgot about for 20 years and then--bam--while you're sitting there sick on the couch, half-delirious from dehydration, she comes flying back to memory on her broom? While I was curled up with the fever and ague yesterday, I thought of Della Doris, my supervisor at Ruby Tuesday back in 1990.
One Friday, I was working a double shift--10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and then 5-11 p.m. Well, my early tables didn't finish up till 4:45, so I asked Della if I could take more than 15 minutes to go eat something in the mall, change into a clean uniform and get ready for the long night ahead. "No," she said, "you MUST be back here at 5."
Now, present-day Bede would've got in her face and told her, "Not only is that inhumane, it's also illegal. Cash me out, woman, cuz I quit. You can sell these fajitas your own damn self." But, instead, I rushed next door to Chick-fil-a and got me a frozen ice dream and ran back to work, still wearing my ranch dressing-spattered apron.
Della, meanwhile, went off to Holiday Hair and got her mullet shaped into what she called a "Toni Braxton cut." I didn't bother enlightening her to the fact that she was 1) white 2) couldn't sing and 3) tipped that scales at two bills.
As a present-day mogul, I do not wish Della ill and sincerely hope she clawed her way to middle management on the Ruby Tuesday corporate ladder. Sometimes, when I am dealing with my cadre of employees, I remind myself to be nice and "not act all Toni Braxton" on people. But, what I really mean, is "not act all Della Doris." I'm sure Toni Braxton herself is a lovely woman.
Lots of folks look for ways to cut their grocery bill. Here's a tip that will help you save money: Get the flu. More importantly, make sure your whole family gets the flu. No co-pays to worry about cuz no one will have the strength to go to the doctor--or anywhere else, saving on car emissions and gasoline. Eco-friendly! Plus, no one will eat for at least two days. That's six meals worth of savings! Gatorade is cheaper than chicken stir fry for four ANY DAY. The best part is, once everybody is over the flu and back to work/school, they still won't have much of an appetite. Buy a box of cup o'soup and call that "breakfast and lunch." If you're the splurging type, pick up some of the 79-cent ginger ale. Dinner! Your budget--and your waistline--will thank you.