Friday, May 23, 2014
Julep: life lessons
As I got dressed this morning, it occurred to me that some times it's nice to be pushing 40. I was able to apply some life experience to realize ...
(1) Pants that are uncomfortable at 7 a.m. are not getting any more comfortable as the day goes on. By 3 p.m. you will be begging for mercy. Just go ahead and take them off now, and put on something else, rather than suffer through the whole day.
(2) The very pretty shirt that was passed along to you (tags intact) by a woman who is 8 feet tall is not flattering on your pocket-sized frame. Take it off, fold it up for the Goodwill, and put on something you bought your own self.
There. Much better.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Julep: Schoolyard politics
The person at the heart of today's post has appeared on our blog before: you may recall that she "crafts to find the balance." She's now running for the state legislature, not in my district. If I lived out in the swamps of suburbia, I would certainly vote for her, and I'd even let her put a sign in my yard. I hope she wins her race. I truly do not wish her ill in any way, bless her heart.
A couple months ago, she called asking me for a campaign donation, and just last week she sent a message to me and to Lola asking if we wanted to "co-host" an event being thrown for her by some other lawyers in town. I wasn't sure what she meant by that, so I inquired further: basically, she just wants me to give her money before the event so she can identify me as a supporter.
I know candidates have to raise money and I don't begrudge her hustling. I realize that for some people, political involvement is a hobby, but I'm not one of them. I'm not in the habit of giving money to candidates who don't live in my district unless I really believe in them and want to show my enthusiastic support. For instance, I gave money to my partner who is running for city council, not in my district - because he is awesome and I love him.
There's the rub. I know she is smart and hard-working; I respect that she does very good work for society in her day job; I'm sure that she will be a good legislator if she manages to get elected despite being a very crunchy liberal running against a conservative 20-year incumbent in the swamps of suburbia. Do I think she is awesome and love her? No, I do not.
She was my best friend for the first three years of high school, but she spent our entire senior year blowing off every effort I made to spend time with her, in favor of her private school beau and (even after they broke up) his cool friends. Once we graduated, I didn't hear from her again until the first day of our bar review class, when she greeted me like a long-lost pal. I was polite that day. In later weeks, I allowed her to join my study group (which included Mr. Twinks). I even did some volunteer legal work for her in her first job at a worthy local nonprofit. But it's been more than twenty years since I would have identified her as a friend.
I know high school was a really long time ago. On the one hand, I think I've done pretty well at moving on to date. On the other hand, I've come to realize that I really resent this person - who was responsible for one of the most painful and unpleasant times of my life and has never acknowledged her really sh!tty behavior, let alone made any attempt to apologize - asking me for money and a public show of support.
I can't decide if this is silly on my part. If a high school boyfriend had dumped me after treating me really badly, never apologized, and then 20 years later came around asking me to donate to his political campaign, would it be reasonable to laugh in his face? Is this different?
A couple months ago, she called asking me for a campaign donation, and just last week she sent a message to me and to Lola asking if we wanted to "co-host" an event being thrown for her by some other lawyers in town. I wasn't sure what she meant by that, so I inquired further: basically, she just wants me to give her money before the event so she can identify me as a supporter.
I know candidates have to raise money and I don't begrudge her hustling. I realize that for some people, political involvement is a hobby, but I'm not one of them. I'm not in the habit of giving money to candidates who don't live in my district unless I really believe in them and want to show my enthusiastic support. For instance, I gave money to my partner who is running for city council, not in my district - because he is awesome and I love him.
There's the rub. I know she is smart and hard-working; I respect that she does very good work for society in her day job; I'm sure that she will be a good legislator if she manages to get elected despite being a very crunchy liberal running against a conservative 20-year incumbent in the swamps of suburbia. Do I think she is awesome and love her? No, I do not.
She was my best friend for the first three years of high school, but she spent our entire senior year blowing off every effort I made to spend time with her, in favor of her private school beau and (even after they broke up) his cool friends. Once we graduated, I didn't hear from her again until the first day of our bar review class, when she greeted me like a long-lost pal. I was polite that day. In later weeks, I allowed her to join my study group (which included Mr. Twinks). I even did some volunteer legal work for her in her first job at a worthy local nonprofit. But it's been more than twenty years since I would have identified her as a friend.
I know high school was a really long time ago. On the one hand, I think I've done pretty well at moving on to date. On the other hand, I've come to realize that I really resent this person - who was responsible for one of the most painful and unpleasant times of my life and has never acknowledged her really sh!tty behavior, let alone made any attempt to apologize - asking me for money and a public show of support.
I can't decide if this is silly on my part. If a high school boyfriend had dumped me after treating me really badly, never apologized, and then 20 years later came around asking me to donate to his political campaign, would it be reasonable to laugh in his face? Is this different?
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Twinkle: Pearls Before Swine
This afternoon I met Fun Sink over at Aunt Irene's condo to pick over the final dregs of what no one else in the family wanted of her last worldly possessions. I don't consider it at all insulting that I wasn't invited over sooner--Aunt Irene has children and grandchildren who certainly have a legitimate claim to her belongings, and I would never want to take away what was rightly someone else's if they really wanted it. It's only fair and right that they should choose what they want first; I was glad for the chance to pick over what was left.
And the amazing thing about marrying into a family of tasteless cretins is that they looked over some truly charming treasures. I walked away today with some pretty silver trays, some cordial glasses with silver overlay, some julep cups, a lovely little glass carafe with silver overlay, a silver sugar basket, and two ornate gold frames (the art can be easily replaced--I just wanted the frames). I also claimed a nice lamp, two mirrors with ornate frames (I cannot resist an ornate frame), a Queen Anne-style wingback chair, a Chippendale-style desk, a pembroke table, a brushed gold bar cart, and an oriental rug. (I'm getting them delivered later). I cannot believe these people didn't want any of it--it's really nice.
It was hilarious, too, going through everything with Fun Sink, because it was painfully apparent that she had absolutely NO idea what I was going to go for and what I was going to leave behind. She wanted us to take a four-piece French provincial bedroom suite, which, she pointed out, had lots of storage. I like my bedroom furniture, and I'm not in the market to replace all of it now or ever (I'm more of a piece-by-piece collector, anyway). I think she was surprised that, instead of taking her up on the offer for the entire bedroom set, I was like, "No thanks, but this is a charming little picture on the wall," or "What about this lamp? Can I have this?" She really had no idea what I was going to go for--she had sent me pictures previously of stuff she thought I'd be interested in, and none of it was what I ended up taking.
Anyway, it was nice of her to let me choose some of it and I'm happy with what I inherited.
After that we went to supper with Mr. and Mrs. Fun Sink, where they told us all about their upcoming Mediterranean cruise with their friends. And let me tell you all--this is the last group of people you would ever want to go to Europe with. One of their friends is learning Spanish, not to enrich her experiences in the beautiful city of Barcelona, or to interact more meaningfully with its citizens, but for the express purpose of saying she and her friends don't want pork or shellfish in anything. Talk about a fun sink.
I asked my father-in-law what he was most excited about seeing, and was happy and impressed when he said he wanted to see Michelangelo's David. Fun Sink rolled her eyes and explained that, unlike the rest of their party, he's not content just seeing the reproduction statue in the public square in Florence--he wants to go inside a museum and possibly wait in line to see the real thing. Mr. Twinks and I both defended him and said he was totally right to want to see the actual statue (especially since there's a reproduction of it right here on Main Street in our hometown--I actually love that cheap-looking gold reproduction, and affectionately refer to it as the "five dollar footlong.") Fun Sink said, "Well--you all will change your minds when you hear THIS: there's really good shopping in Florence including lots of nice leather goods, and I'd rather spend my time doing that." So my FIL, to his credit, will stand in line to see one of the world's great Renaissance masterpieces, while Fun Sink shops for tchotchkies.
And the amazing thing about marrying into a family of tasteless cretins is that they looked over some truly charming treasures. I walked away today with some pretty silver trays, some cordial glasses with silver overlay, some julep cups, a lovely little glass carafe with silver overlay, a silver sugar basket, and two ornate gold frames (the art can be easily replaced--I just wanted the frames). I also claimed a nice lamp, two mirrors with ornate frames (I cannot resist an ornate frame), a Queen Anne-style wingback chair, a Chippendale-style desk, a pembroke table, a brushed gold bar cart, and an oriental rug. (I'm getting them delivered later). I cannot believe these people didn't want any of it--it's really nice.
It was hilarious, too, going through everything with Fun Sink, because it was painfully apparent that she had absolutely NO idea what I was going to go for and what I was going to leave behind. She wanted us to take a four-piece French provincial bedroom suite, which, she pointed out, had lots of storage. I like my bedroom furniture, and I'm not in the market to replace all of it now or ever (I'm more of a piece-by-piece collector, anyway). I think she was surprised that, instead of taking her up on the offer for the entire bedroom set, I was like, "No thanks, but this is a charming little picture on the wall," or "What about this lamp? Can I have this?" She really had no idea what I was going to go for--she had sent me pictures previously of stuff she thought I'd be interested in, and none of it was what I ended up taking.
Anyway, it was nice of her to let me choose some of it and I'm happy with what I inherited.
After that we went to supper with Mr. and Mrs. Fun Sink, where they told us all about their upcoming Mediterranean cruise with their friends. And let me tell you all--this is the last group of people you would ever want to go to Europe with. One of their friends is learning Spanish, not to enrich her experiences in the beautiful city of Barcelona, or to interact more meaningfully with its citizens, but for the express purpose of saying she and her friends don't want pork or shellfish in anything. Talk about a fun sink.
I asked my father-in-law what he was most excited about seeing, and was happy and impressed when he said he wanted to see Michelangelo's David. Fun Sink rolled her eyes and explained that, unlike the rest of their party, he's not content just seeing the reproduction statue in the public square in Florence--he wants to go inside a museum and possibly wait in line to see the real thing. Mr. Twinks and I both defended him and said he was totally right to want to see the actual statue (especially since there's a reproduction of it right here on Main Street in our hometown--I actually love that cheap-looking gold reproduction, and affectionately refer to it as the "five dollar footlong.") Fun Sink said, "Well--you all will change your minds when you hear THIS: there's really good shopping in Florence including lots of nice leather goods, and I'd rather spend my time doing that." So my FIL, to his credit, will stand in line to see one of the world's great Renaissance masterpieces, while Fun Sink shops for tchotchkies.
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