Pay It Forward

*Or the “Who would look a gift horse in the mouth? Me. That’s who.” Post

My home is very open. Always has been. Growing up, our house was where all the girls hung out. Day in & day out. After school and random weekends. They were here so much that they all knew to stick their hands into the mail slot to unlock the screen door so they could let themselves in (because if we were home, the key was in the door. Don’t get any funny ideas about robbing me.) Same with The Man…he & his friends could be found if not cruising Crenshaw (damn, I’m old!), then they were at the house.

Know what happens when you have two people who are used to having company? A house full of people, that’s what. Since I’ve been married, I don’t remember a time when there wasn’t SOMEBODY over. And just about everybody was welcome. Except for that one guy who ran around on his wife all the time, and tried to make The Man his partner in crime. HE – couldn’t even look in my house’s direction. Who me, bitter? ANYWAYS… my point is that my home has always been open. You’re coming to LA/Arizona/Boston/Hawaii? Stay here! Always wanted to go to LA? Not only will we show you around (and Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles in not out of the question), you can come stay with us at the folks’ house...because they are used to us inviting people over. The Holidays were a mixture of family, friends, and Marines who didn’t go home for the holidays.

I never really thought of as being generous, it just was. The same way my eyes are brown, I expected that there would be extra people at the house for Christmas. The point? (I bet you didn’t think there was one, did you?) A very close friend offered me a gift. Because she and her husband wanted us to have it. And I refused. Because I never want my friends to think that I love them for the things they give me, instead of who they are. But I did ask why. The response gave me something to think about: we give so much of ourselves to others, that they would like to do something generous for us. It was a surprise, to say the least.

And what she said stayed with me. The things that I do for other people, I do because I want to, because I CAN. The things that I do for my friends I do with an open heart, and that’s the way it should be. The gift…? Is being offered because they wants to. And they can. Am I the only one in our relationship allowed to give a gift, be generous? After all, I'm pretty damn sure that their friendship is not based on all the my awesome apple cobbler. Heh.

So I said all that to say that she changed my mind. I’m choosing to accept their gift with the open heart in which it was offered. So I guess maybe instead of looking the gift horse in the mouth, I'll look down at his shoes. After all, I like shoes. Although, I don't know that I want somebody welding or nailing or doing whatever the hell it is they do to horse ummm... feet? That's bound to fuck up my pedicure.

I'm not a complete failure

I am a pretty laid back parent…Could be because my dad was a complete dictator about EVERYTHING. Cleaning, eating (I am the world’s pickiest eater. The eating issues would turn into World War III), homework, clothes. Everything. You name it, he wanted to tell me how to do it, that I COULDN’T do it, or complain about the way I did it. Me? Not so much. I don’t have rules as much as I have loose guidelines. I expect to see the floor of The Brat’s room, and for her clothes to be in her hamper. I also don’t do her laundry anymore, so if she runs out of panties…her bad.

The only rules that I am completely unbending on are: No drugs. I don’t do them, and since I pay the rent, that means nobody else can either. No sex. The only person who can have sex in my house is ME and The Man (and only with each other) and Nobody in the house when I’m not there. There are very few exceptions to this rule and every one of them are related to me. I don’t care if your BFF got locked out of her house. She can sit on the porch until I get home. The only time this rule can be bent is if I have already ok’d somebody coming over before I get home to pick you up and/or hang out. And if somebody pops up unexpectedly, unless I get a phone call asking “Is it ok?” It’s not. PERIOD. EVER. Because even though I don’t believe my friends are crazed psychopaths, child molesters, killers…I don’t want to find out I was wrong the hard way (better safe than sorry, I say).

I get home yesterday and my husband’s friend, Smiley, is on my porch. He’s standing there talking on his cell. What the hell?
Me: Hey Smiley, are you lost?
Smiles: Nope, I was walking The Brat through printing up my Costco receipt from out here. I didn’t know I was going to need it, and you guys are the closest. (I live less than 5 minutes away)
Me: Uhhhh…
Smiles: Well, she peeked out the blinds and told me that she couldn’t open the door. So I called her on the phone & asked her to print it up for me. She was going to slip it through the window.
Me: AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…..She’s not allowed to open the door to ANYBODY when I’m not here.
Smiles: I totally get it.
I let him in and he grabs the paper that she printed out for him and goes off to Costco.

It should be noted The Man & Smiley have been friends since 1st grade. I’ve known Smiley for AT LEAST 20 years because he had been my neighbor since I was 10 years old AND THEN I dated/married his closest friend. He’s known The Brat ALL 13 YEARS OF HER LIFE. And she told him, you know I love you…but I can’t let you in.

Wow. So I guess I did something right.


*Also—they both said they were trying to call me for permission to open the door, but my phone is sometimes stupid & so I never got a call (until of course..I was home then I got 500 bajillion missed calls)

Some accidental outings...

* Or the surprises are on ME.



So blogger crapped out at work the other day. Wreaking devestation all over my blog. Missing posts, deleted pictures. Damn & double damn. Some of those were pretty darn funny. And I'm sure nothing I say will ever be as enlightening (haha..) as whatever I said then. I'm sure it changed lives, and encouraged people. Because that's just the way I am.



So please. A moment of silence for my murdered posts. My words of infinite wisdom shall be missed.




Surprise #2


So I’ve had this blog for a while…you know, I putter around the blogosphere reading and thinking damn! now THAT was an awesome post…and then I start wondering what the hell am I going to write about... Welllll, I’m going to write about ME. After all, that’s what this blog is about right? The Good, the bad, the ugly (says so right on my profile): Me. Sneaky sneaky sir. I didn’t tell anybody about it, just started writing it. I participate in swaps, and memes and themed writing (oh my!) and I write about whatever I want because nobody knows me. I mean… you KNOW me, but you don’t know me know me.

So then, my friend tells me about a blog, and I read that blog and comment because she is hysterically funny. And she takes pity on me reads MY blog and comments, and THEN she tells HER friend, who is my friend: Hey, this sounds like your friend. Is everybody confused yet? Good. Because then she calls me to say HEYYYY… do you have a blog? To which, I didn’t quite reply (think about it… I didn’t.) I said hmm….well I’ll have to check that out. Which I did. And then, I figured if I was gonna be outed, I may as well give her a shout out:

To the Elf named Yoshi. Hi. See you on Sunday.

And a special shout out to the accidental outer: Mamasphere. So are you gonna come to the going away party at the house?

Acts of Random Kindness

I am a random movie watcher. Especially these days...you know, these days where all I do is sit around with my leg up. Because my days are so boring, I sleep alot. And because I sleep alot during the day, I DON'T sleep a lot at night. So I watch stuff like "How to Marry a Millionaire", and "Ocean's Thirteen", and "Evan Almighty". Yeah, I said it. Evan Almighty. Quick synopsis: Evan, former anchorman, becomes a senator or something on the platform of Being the Change. He says a prayer of thanks for his new lot in life and prays for his family to become closer. God comes to him and says you want change? Start by building an ark. Hilarity ensues. Moral of the story: Change comes from Acts of Random Kindness (get it? A.R.K. yeah well, they were reaching, but I still find this movie ridiculously funny)

Anyways that's the subject of today's blog, boys and girls...umm...boy and girl? Okay, YOU.
RANDOM KINDNESS.

I just flew back from the Dirty South (and boy, are my arms tired..LOL. Ok. Sorry. I couldn't resist), and I was completely taken aback by the KINDNESS of the people that I met at the airport. This trip was especially trying for me because I was flying back for a funeral and so prone to being emotional, I was in a cast and so had to rely on perfect strangers to get me where I was going AND I was also in pain because the longer my leg was down, the more swollen it would become.

Don't get me wrong, the airport staff were surprisingly helpful. Should they be ashamed that I was surprised at their helpfulness? Or should I be shamed because I'm so used to maltreatment at LAX? Hmm.. They carted me around in my wheelchair and kept up friendly chatter. They didn't make me feel like it was a hassle to drag some lady in a pink cast around. Which I appreciate; I'm young enough to not like having to be carted around, and old enough to realize that they were doing it because it was their job, but it was the ATTITUDE that made the difference.

I'm talking about the people. The people who where on their way to Houston, or Florida or Tennessee. Stopping to help me pick up junk I've dropped trying to walk with crutches AND carry a purse. People who pulled my crutches from the overhead instead of making me wait on the flight attendant. The extremely nice man who had never been to the big city (when he found out I hailed from Los Angeles), who walked behind me when I got on the crop duster to my final destination...just in case I fall backwards (because walking on crutches up a ramp for the first time is much more difficult that you'd think) will be there to catch me.

People I'd only just met, and I'm sure will never see again. Kinder than kind. Helping me when I'm wobbling on my crutches, 'cause it's late, I'm tired and I've been on the freaking plane for 5 hours already and my leg is killing me and I STILL have to change planes ONE.MORE.TIME.

Maybe to them, picking up my crap wasn't a big deal. Or maybe the chick got my crutches down because they were in her way. Mayybe. Or maybe they just did it because I looked tired, or I was in a cast and looked like I could use some help. Either way, it made my trip easier to get through.

And it made me realize that these itty bitty acts of kindness, DO actually make a difference. After all, if the nice person hadn't picked up my crap when I dropped it walking over to the check-in terminal, I wouldn't have had my ID. Without my ID, I couldn't not have gotten on that plane. Then I would have been turning the place out, having a meltdown about how I JUST HAD MY ID and what kind of shithole airport is this where they rob women on crutches and THEN they would have called Airport Police where I would have gotten arrested, and The Man was already 1/2way to where he was going and would have said "Keep her trouble-making ass in lock up until I return." Then I would have to kill him, and then I'd be in jail for attempted murder and I can assure you, I don' t have enough bail money for that kind of drama.

Maybe I can't save the world. But maybe I can prevent somebody from going postal by just one teeny tiny Act of Random Kindness. Sometimes that's all it takes to make a difference.