It's happening again. I'm having that insidious, looping bad dream. I am blind. Instead of murky pitch, my vision is scrubbed of color. Tones recede until they become intelligible needles at the edges of my sight lines, twinkling a last gasp of varied hues before falling into blankness.
Posts from the ‘Just Venting’ Category
Speaking of nakedness.
I was at a spa. After kneading and sloughing and showering, I wanted to look uber-hot for MTM. I locked myself in the bathroom, and I did what I almost always fail to do at home. I used products. And a hair dryer. And yummy lotions.
All while the curling iron heated its phallic protuberance to a setting called 'hell-hot.'
This post is part of the series “A Change Would Do You Good.” Please click here to read the first installment, click here to read the second installment, and click here to read the third installment. Thank you for changing your schedule to include my blog.
Since then, I’ve been treated to articles in the NY Times, extolling the virtues of keeping things open-ended. Of giving everyone the opportunity to be fluid with their plans. Of being flexible with my guest list that may be ten people or may be thirty.
I’ve even thrown a couple of parties during that time.
Here’s what I know, and it’s something that won’t change, no matter how much life experience I acquire.
If someone thinks enough of your company to invite you to a party, let them know whether or not you will be there. I don’t give a damn how busy you think you are. I don’t care how overwhelmed your inbox is. It really doesn’t matter to me what your day was like.
Chances are, the person throwing the party is as busy as you. Plus they’re throwing a party. For you. Maybe they took a day off to put the event together. It’s likely they spent no small amount of money on YOU.
So, the next time someone responds ‘maybe’ to an invitation, here’s what I’m going to say: Maybe I’ll have enough food. Oh, and the maybes get last dibs on the booze, so if you maybe show up, you might want to bring your own.
Maybe almost always means no. Stop dancing around the issue. Grow a pair. Just say no. Really, it’s a change that won’t make me hate you.
Not like ‘maybe’ will.
Have you ever thrown a party with more ‘maybe’ than ‘yes?’
Yesterday, I took a trip to a spa. You know, a spa? Where it is supposed to be all peace and quiet and zen and flute music and bought-and-paid-for pampering?
Yeah. That's what I THOUGHT it was supposed to be, too.
I guess the lady in the waiting area didn't think so. She was yammering away on her cell phone while I sat still and tried to deep breathe. It was hard to refrain from taking her phone away from her and beating her to a freaking pulp with it.