Remembrance of Things Right Now...Part Three

Only one more set of questions after today, and we will have covered Proust's soul revealing 26. Mrs. G. can't tell you how interesting she has found everyone's many responses. Yesterday's answers confirmed we like our men funny, our women honest and our asses thin. The majority of us appear to be done with hate, though several of us still have major issues with Dick Cheney and a smile at your face then insult you bitch name Linda B.

14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?

16. When and where were you happiest?

17. Which talent would you most like to have?

18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?

20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?

 See you in the comments.

Thanks Mom

Mrs. G. gives her mom considerable grief for her devotion to Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity and Dick Cheney. Mrs. G. gives her mom considerable grief for endlessly criticizing Mrs. G's hair, weight, lack of make-up and European man-like shoes. Mrs. G. gives her mom considerable grief for inserting three too many hapless stepfathers into her childhood.

But today Mrs. G. wants to give her mom considerable gratitude for always being there with one abiding message: you are loved. When it's all said and done, honestly, what more does anyone need.

One of the nicest thing Mrs.G's mom ever did was not kill Mrs. G. on her prom night. After months of trudging through malls looking for and purchasing the perfect dress, Mrs. G. decided two hours before the dance that she could not wear it. The dress was too long, too conservative. Mrs. G. stomped through the house crying and wailing that she looked like Laura Ingalls. Rather than argue and insist Mrs. G. get a grip, Mrs. G's mom grabbed her purse and Mrs. G's hand and drove her to the mall, where Mrs. G. found an ideal strapless black number at Lerners. They got home about a half-an-hour before Mrs. G's date showed up and just before Mrs. G. went downstairs to meet him, her mother slipped Mrs. G's grandmother's treasured pearls around her neck, kissed her ear and told her she looked beautiful. And Mrs. G. believed her.

Thanks Mom.

What was the nicest thing your mother ever did for you? Come on, give it up for mom.

Lamentable

Mr. and Mrs. G. have been married a long ass time. They've been together twenty years in February. In the first years of their marriage, there was no shortage of set-tos and rumbles. They argued about Mrs. G's mother in-laws, division of labor, who worked harder, who had it worse and, even, how to load the dishwasher. Mr. G. still contends that he is the only one in the house who correctly folds a t-shirt.

As the years have passed and the children have grown, their need to be right and prove each other wrong has dwindled. Their disagreements are quieter and resolved chop-chop. Most of their flaps can be concluded during a commercial break.

And whatever their arguments lack in blistering passion is made up for in daffy subjects, subjects so trifling and insignificant that Mr. and Mrs. G. often quit carping mid sentence to get a snack out of the pantry, forgetting to return to the subject at hand.

Recent bickering has centered around the following:

• The importance of completely closing the flip-top of the toothpaste. Mr. G. accused Mrs. G. of deliberately leaving the flip-top partially open, thus actively encouraging a thick, condensed plug of Colgate that renders him queasy and less enthusiastic about brushing his teeth.

• The superiority of Kerry Gold Irish Butter. Mrs. G. thinks it is the best butter available and is willing to pay a little extra for it. Mr. G. doesn't agree and every time he spreads it on his bread he starts a (his word) dialectic on the similarity of cows and their milk across the globe. And then Mrs. G. points out Kerry Gold's golden color and creamier texture, and Mr. G. tells her it is all in her head. And then Mrs. G. explains Ireland's temperate, year-round weather and moisture-bearing southwesterly winds which create a smorgasbord for Irish cows who dine on rich, fertile grass in the rolling, green pastures that dominate the emerald countryside. And then Mr. G. gives up and eats his bread and Kerry Gold butter in silence.

• The relevance of the top sheet. Mr. G. insists that it is a crucial barrier between the bottom sheet and the comforter while Mrs. G. knows for a fact it prohibits her feet from breathing properly. This disagreement has inspired gritted teeth and violent tugging as Mr. and Mrs. G. put fresh sheets on the bed, so, last Saturday, Mrs. G. stuffed all the topsheets into a grocery bag and donated them to the Goodwill. Don't tell Mr. G. 

• The expiration date on milk. Mr. G. insists the date is just a suggestion or loose guideline. Mrs. G. believes it is the word of God.

• Law & Order: SVU.Mr. G. goes to bed every Tuesday night when Mrs. G. watches it, but not one minute before he says the scripts suck, the police captain is a numskull, Ice-T is a lousy actor and the district attorneys all look the same. Blah, blah, blah. Mrs. G. likes Christopher Meloni it.

• Flipping the bird and/or yelling at other drivers. Mr. G. believes that communicating with other drivers is crucial and vital to the flow of traffic. Mrs. G. remembers the time he communicated with a guy in a truck who squealed to a stop, barrelled out of his rig and called Mr. G. a Birkenstock wearing, granola eating jackass and how she thought they were both going to die.

What ridiculous subjects do you and yours beat to death?

Please Help Mrs. G. Figure This One Out

Completely gratuitous and unrelated to this post photo of Finn by Miss G.

On Friday, one of Mrs. G's reader's sent her a link to Shapely Prose, a blog written by Kate Harding which focuses on body image and self acceptance. Mrs. G. hopped over there and read Kate Harding's post about her recently published interview in the Chicago Tribune, so then Mrs. G. hopped over to the paper to check it out. Although she is unfamiliar with the fat acceptance movement, Mrs. G. found the article and Kate Harding interesting. But she was blown away by the negativity of the Tribune's readers' comments, so many of them were sanctimonious, cruel and malicious. Stereotypes and witless generalizations regarding the overweight flowed enthusiastically and freely.

Lazy, fast food, undisciplined, uneducated, unmotivated, no willpower, drain on society...read them. For once, Mrs. G. is not exaggerating.

That same day Oprah did a show with Kirstie Alley where Alley spends most of the show mocking herself and apologizing (repeatedly) to the world for gaining back the weight she lost when she was the Jenny Craig spokesperson. She talked about the paparazzi endlessly hounding her and calling her fat ass.

Mrs. G. found it hard to watch. She will burn in hell before she apologizes to anyone for her extra pounds. She has legitimate things to atone for but the size of her jeans isn't one of them.

Here's Mrs. G's question:

Why are so many people upset, disturbed and repulsed by the overweight, by fat people?

Can She Get a Little Help From Her Friends

Mrs. G. is taking a short break from her dog love fest in order to seek advice from her dog loving friends. She is seeking advice from you rather than driving over to the local library, because whenever she leaves the house (like to get the mail or get something from the garage or shower), Finn (look away husband) poops in the house (shut up Melanie) or chews a portion of a door frame. The dog is fast. Mrs. G. has forgotten how quickly engergetic dogs can wreak havoc.

Understanding that Finn is two-year-old and was delivered as a stray to the Humane Society, can you offer Mrs. G. good resources--book titles or websites. She can't cope with googling, because so many of the links end up to be advertising hooks for items that are not dogs or, often, dog related objects. How is that legal (not a question for you--hypothetical).

A few things that might help your recommendations:

The cats are ruling. Finn is not aggressive. He hasn't charged or snapped. He mainly appears to want to play with them. At this point, they are not interested in that at all.

Mrs. G. is taking him outside and for walks very often and he pees on every plant in the neighborhood, but seems disturbingly more inclined in pooping only in the house. Don't mention this to her family. There are issues.

He is calm and friendly as long as someone is in the room with him and he can see her with his two eyes.

He hasn't barked.

He definitely knows how to sit but not with any consistency.

He shows friendliness toward neighbor dogs when he encounters them.

If there is too much movement in the room, he gets flat down on the carpet (commando crawl) as if he is going to be seriously injured. She wonders if he has been abused.

He can't get enough body contact...not a problem.

Also he's eating the cats food not his

Most of the information Mrs. G. has found that is not bogus traps are geared toward puppies or violent dogs.

Mrs. G. thanks you in advance for any resources you can send her way. She really loves this dog. She wants to be a good owner. She and Finn are signed up for obedience classes at the Humane Society, but they don't start for two weeks.

P.S. Yes or no to letting him get on the couch, her instinct is yes. Yes or no to people food snacks when he is staring at the snacks like he wants nothing more than one tiny bite, her instinct is no. Yes or no to a crate, her instinct leans toward not liking them.

What Lifts You Up?

Cherry Blossoms by Caitie G.When you've had one of those days (weeks, years) when you are worn out, empty, tapped...what do you do to restore yourself.

Mrs. G. drives to Barnes & Noble, splurges on the hardback book of her choice, drives home and climbs in bed to read...with the door locked and the phone turned off. She pretends she is in a fancy hotel room and doesn't come out of her room until she has to. Sometimes she reads the whole book.

Friday Reality Gander

Mrs. G. wonders (in a way that is not at all related to a bet she has with her husband) how long the average person wears a pair of jeans before she throws them in the wash?

Brash, Brassy and Bold

Mrs. G. has pronounced 2009 her year of taking risks, her year of fearlessly wriggling out of the comfort of her sweatpants and playing with a little fire.

She has mentioned in the past that she has spent much of her adult life hungering for a pair of red boots. She has admired them, caressed them, tried them on but never summoned the pluck to buy them. Red is so impractical and bold. Reader, red feels so reckless. So shameless. Just who in the hell does a woman wearing red boots think she is?

Well in a few weeks, Mrs. G. turns 42 and she is going to subject herself to the potential danger and destruction of taking a walk on the wild side...in some fly boots.

Help her pick her poison.

A

B

C

D

What have you never had the nerve to buy?