Friday, August 31, 2007
I mention all this because it is a lesson in SB-ness. I thought I had about as much chance of getting this job as Dick Cheney has getting his Boyscout safety badge. What I did have going for me was a divorce with no place to live and two little boys to protect. Another thing to add to the list of SB traits is the ability to rise to the occasion. Sometimes the rising occurs when our backs are to the wall and the wolves are circling , but we rise. I was going to get a job, and a good one and I was going to do it quickly. The bonus came with loving the job I found (much praise for an employer who is the model for all employers). You closet SB's out there, whatever you need, really need...go for it. I'm rooting for you.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
You know what's on my mind... cartoons. Yep cartoons. I sometimes wish life were a little more like cartoons - except for the Japanese Anime ones because I wouldn't want to go around with those freakish big eyes and my mouth only moving for half of my words.
My favorite cartoon character is Foghorn Leghorn.
If Foghorn was female he'd definitely be an SB. Especially the way he is always going around trying to tell the other barnyard animals how to do things "the right way."
I love this guy. He is never bored. He always has a project. He's always singing. He's almost always happy. He gets to be outside during the work day. He has a dog. Not a bad life.
I'd like to hear what your favorite cartoon character is and why. Are there any cartoon legends you think would make particularly good SB? (Remember to check back to my first blog for definition). Leave a comment and "I say, I say, I say there," I might just write back.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
makes a fat girl giggle.
Historical Quote of the Day
"A moment I've been dreading. George brought his ne're-do-well son around this morning and asked me to find the kid a job. Not the political one who lives in Florida. The one who hangs around here all the time looking shiftless. This so-called kid is already almost 40 and has never had a real job. Maybe I'll call Kinsley over at The New Republic and see if they'll hire him as a contributing editor or something. That looks like easy work."
-- Ronald Reagan in his recently published diaries, May 17, 1986.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
My home town was a factory town where all the Italians married all the Germans, my parents included. These are two nationalities with personality traits I feel shouldn't be in the same country let alone the same bedroom. My folks, whom I ADORE, have somehow persevered for decades and I appreciate their strength. However, having their genes mingling inside of me has certainly nurtured my S.B. characteristics which make me want to hug you and hit you up-side-the-head all at the same time.
I don't know how other women became S.B.'s (for a definition of S.B. see my first blog). Maybe other S.B.s out there can write and tell me their stories?
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wanna hear a true story? Last Saturday my boys and I are walking out of a little farm building at the Minnesota State Fair. My youngest just finished learning the ins and outs of farm life complete with life-size plastic cow you can milk. We were about to walk over to the kiddie rides when I think I hear a faint "Look out down there." I didn't feel God was particularly displeased with me that day but for some reason, I felt it was directed toward me. I trot a few steps faster until the kids and I turned to hear a thud, followed by a scrape and a quick sliding sound and ending with a prosthetic leg hitting the ground about 5 feet behind us.
I've seen a lot of things at the fair, but this one was a first. Looking up we see the open sky ride gliding above us and the boys and I scan it to find a chair with an odd number of feet dangling below it. Everyone around us sees the same loose limb just lying on the ground but no one makes a move. I walk over to pick it up and am met by one the fair workers from in the little farm building. She says she'll take it.
Being an S.B. with a long memory I recall my older son (now 11) losing a hat on that very same ride when he was about 6 years old. Some amazingly good Samaritans saw it fall and chased all the way across the park to the end of the ride to give it back. I admit I was a little disappointed not to be given the opportunity to return the favor...lend a foot, if you will, to my fellow Minnesotans. NO DISRESPECT, just a healthy sense of human, I mean humor.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
I have no time for being coy these days so let's get right to it. What is an S. B.? Before I tell you please read the whole explanation because it is not a tee-shirt slogan or a thing you call a girl you met in a bar that you don't like very much.
S. B. stands for Snotty Bi_ _ _. Can I say Bitch? I am in the habit of using underlines because I am a mom raising two boys under the age of twelve and underlines are a bad word, mom-thing. As I doubt my boys will be reading this any time soon and I want to be Honest as an S.B. I will use the word Bitch. In this case it is a very good thing to be, especially for those who the S.B. loves.
An S. B. is:
- The kind of woman who has more empathy than is healthy coupled with a great deal of intelligence, a fierce sense of loyalty and the notion that she needs to stand up and speak out when she or someone else is getting shit upon. (or is it shat upon - I just don't know).
- We tell people like it is and we expect some form of honesty in return.
- We see things coming and often get bit in the ass when we warn someone to get out of the way. We are usually kind when they come back to us after having learned their lesson the hard way.
- We work like bees (all puns intended).
- We feel pain for those we have never met.
- We try like hell to keep our families together and we make wonderful friends and fearsome enemies.
- We have a VERY LONG MEMORY.
- We are suckers for romance but don't really believe in it at the same time.
- We read a lot because we always want to know more.
- We laugh even more than we read.
- We yell.
- We often greet each other as just B. (And some of us find it funny to exchange things with bees on them. Remember bees sting but they also make sweet honey).
I know I'll think of more things about being an S.B. as this blog develops but that's a pretty good start.
Is late at night the best time to start a blog?
I find myself compelled to publish this now that I finally got off my ass and started a blog. I blog for my job regularly but this is different. I'm different. Different than the person you would see if I passed you on the street. I'm not hiding anything big and dark. I just had a lot of life fall on me in the past years and it pretty much covered up what's at my core. This blog is part of my attempt to scrape it off and see what emerges. Are you game? Are you B enough? We'll see....we'll see.