Snowpocalypse 2011!

I realize that many people, including some who read this blog, are actually in places that have received a great deal of snow this year.  I, however, live in Houston, where the only "ice" we usually see is either at the ice skating rink at the Galleria or the cubes that gently clink in our glasses as we complain languorously about the heat.  I once went to a Christmas Carnival which boasted "real snow."  Watching children play in artificially created snow that melted almost as soon as it touched the sidewalk (it was in the 80's that weekend in December) was an indescribable delight.

Some years, however, the ice and snow does come our way naturally.  When that happens, we shut down. Completely.  Roads close.  Schools close.  Events are canceled.  While our friends to the north may tease us about our wimpiness, the truth is we are very ill-equipped to deal with ice and snow on the roads.  We have no salt trucks, no plows, no equipment to make things safe.  That's okay, though, because in a day or two everything will melt and we'll be back to normal.  When I was growing up, if it started to snow they would send us home.  If it was still snowing the next day we might get to stay home, but we would have to wake up early and watch the news to see if we got a coveted "snow day."

Those days are gone.  They left with Hurricane Katrina in 2005.  I know that seems like a bizarre non sequitur, but that's my theory: the devastation and death toll caused by the lack of evacuation and preparedness in New Orleans changed the way we here in Houston view weather.  It started with Hurricane Rita (which didn't hit Houston, and many of the people who were hit couldn't get out of town because the entire East Texas roadway system was clogged with people fleeing Houston) and continues to today.  The forecast says it's going to snow?  There will be ice?  We're going to cancel everything now, just to be safe.  Everybody go home!  Enjoy your one-to-three inches of snow!

We have not gotten even a flake.  Yes, there was ice on the car yesterday, and some patches on the roads, but Snowpocalypse 2011 was a massive dud.  Fortunately we have a built-in "bad weather day" in our calendar so we will not have to stay extra days in June or go in on a Saturday, but I still wonder at the foolishness of it all.  Twenty-five years ago, this wouldn't have happened because they would have waited to make the call on Friday morning.  And I would have been up at a local high school right now playing for young instrumentalists struggling through their solos instead of lying in bed with my husband, enjoying the bright sunshine, and being completely lazy.

Perhaps change is good.

Good News, Bad News

My beloved Aunt Astounding (I can't remember what I've called her before, but she rocks, love you!!) sends out a newsletter at the end of the year called "Good News, Bad News."  I love receiving it each December.  Today I'm publishing my own version of Good News, Bad News.

Deb's Good News, Bad News: the 100 Pound Edition

Good News: Deb has lost 100 pounds since her last birthday.

Bad News: She didn't know she would be doing this on her birthday in 2010, so she cannot remember what her last birthday cake tasted like.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Good News: Deb can now feel her collarbones without pressing too hard.

Bad News: When Deb asks someone else to feel her collarbones, he or she scuttles away like a nervous crab and makes references to finding a mental health professional.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  

Good News: Deb's ring size has gone from a snug 9 to a loose 7.

Bad News: Much of Deb's ring collection is still size 9.  Apparently they didn't get the memo.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Good News: Deb is much more active and has energy to accomplish much more in the day.

Bad News: Deb now does housework.  (I realize this might seem like good news, but I'm not there yet.)

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Good News: Deb sweats much less than she used to.

Bad News: For the first time in a decade, Deb is uncomfortably cold.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Good News: Deb has gone down about 7 dress sizes.

Bad News: Deb can no longer even pretend that any of her old clothes fit.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Good News: Deb now gets enough protein and water every day.

Bad News: Deb does this by putting liquid protein and water in a 1-gallon mug and carrying it with her all day, earning her the appellation of "Cup Lady" from students and some co-workers.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Good News: Deb can now fly on a plane with confidence that she will not have any issues with seat size.

Bad News: Deb can't afford to fly anywhere.

Yet.

Dexy's Wisdom

Time: Monday, around 6:30 p.m.

Place: The Folksy Bathroom

Players: Dexy and Mom.

Dexy: Mommy, you know what?

Mom: What?

Dexy: Everybody's got a butt.

Mom: (after slight pause) Yes, that's true.

Dexy: And everybody's got bidness.  (Note: "Bidness" is Folksy-speak for gender-specific anatomy.)

Mom: (cautiously) Yes, they do.

Dexy: But boys and girls have different bidness.

Mom: Yes.

Dexy: And we all have two eyes.

Mom: Yes.

Dexy: And a nose.

Mom: That's right, honey.

Dexy: I want some cheese.

Fin.

Resolutions 2011

I am in a legitimate quandary.  For the past sixteen years, every year's list of resolutions began with, "Lose (varying amounts) of weight."  Sometimes I disguised it as "Live healthier," "Eat more vegetables," "Exercise," or "Stop scouring the floor for forgotten M&M's," but it always meant the same.

This resolution no longer really exists for me.  I still have a substantial amount of weight to lose (52 pounds), but I have already lost 89 pounds (from my top weight in May; I've lost 77 pounds since August 25).  I am currently losing anywhere from 2-5 pounds per week, so even by a conservative estimate, I should be at my (doctor's) goal weight by early July, but I think I'll be there before then.  It won't stop there, of course, but weight loss is no longer an idealistic, far-reaching, nigh unattainable goal that will require substantial change in my behavior to accomplish, therefore it does not require a resolution.

Here, then, are my resolutions, in no particular order:

1. I'm going to keep a cleaner house.  I have much more energy now than I used to, which should mean I have more time, but it doesn't seem to be working that way.  I promise to devote more of my time and energy to my home this year.

2. I'm not going to brood about things that irritate or offend me.  I'm not sure I'll ever be able to completely avoid it, but I refuse to waste my mental energy on things and people who do nothing but bring me down.

3. This year, I WILL SING AGAIN.  I promise, I will take at least one voice lesson from my teacher this summer and I will sing FOR REAL again.

4. I will stop buying myself jewelry except on special occasions, such as a trip to a jewelry store.

5. This year, I will allow myself to be photographed, and I will not delete the pictures from the camera before anyone else sees them.

Ah, a life with purpose.  It feels good.

Quiz: Which Folksy Family Member Are You?

Yes, readers, now you can finally answer the question: "Am I a Sven?  Or more of a Princess?"  Take the following quiz and find out!  (Instructions for scoring follow.)

1. You see someone walking in a strange manner.  This person is gyrating, popping out the pelvis, twisting one foot, and visibly flexing muscles of the derriere.  Additionally, you notice this person is wearing a thoughtful, serious expression, similar to the one usually seen on the faces of monkeys who are scratching themselves on personal regions.  You:

A. Laugh uproariously and point fingers at the person.
B. Exclaim, "You peed your pants!" while laughing uproariously and pointing fingers at this person.
C. Look confused and say, "What's going on?"
D. Realize you are looking in a mirror and immediately stop once the hurtful laughter of your "family" permeates your preoccupation with trying to "pop" your hip.

2. It's been a very long day, and it's time for dinner.  You have nothing on hand to prepare.  You:

A. Say, "What do you want for dinner?  I'll go get it."
B. Whine loudly, "I'm hungry!"
C. Suck your thumb and pull your mommy's hair
D. Sneak a sugar-free peanut butter cup when no one else is looking.

3. You have a three-day weekend.  You:

A. Decide on the spur of the moment to take the family on a mini-vacation.
B. Get up at the crack of dawn because it's going to be an extra fun day, and you can't waste a single minute.
C. Get up at the crack of dawn because you lost Woody's hat and Buzz Lightyear's wings are broken again.
D. Dream of the day you can sleep past 5 a.m. while washing enough clothes to get you through your "fun" vacation.

4. You feel hungry.  Time for a snack.  You choose:

A. Whatever's handy, you're not picky.
B. Whatever you just ran out of, nothing else will do!
C. Cheese, in any form.
D. Potato chips and shame.

5. You want to do something special to show those around you that you care.  You:

A. Refrain from passing gas in a noisy, visible cloud until your beloved has given a reliable indication that she is asleep, then feign unconsciousness when she turns her lovely, accusing eyes in your direction.
B. Bring armfuls of stuffed dogs to watch over your loved ones while they sleep, write, cook, or bathe.
C. Bestow moist, semi-open-mouthed kisses upon them and proclaim, "I love you."
D. Write a blog post about their least endearing habits with enough wry humor to let everyone know that you really love them a whole lot.

If your answers are:

Mostly A's: You are a Sven.

Mostly B's: You are a Princess.

Mostly C's: You are a Dexy.

Mostly D's: You are perfect.

Open Letters

Dear Barbie,

The "wrapping paper" I purchased recently at Toys "R" Us bearing your likeness was surprisingly substandard.  It tore when I sneezed near it.  Once a present was wrapped, the gift was clearly visible through your sparkling ball gown.  While I'm sure it meets opacity and durability standards for eastern European toilet paper, calling this substance "wrapping paper" is both misleading and ironic.  As I know you have a great deal of integrity, I'm sure you will be issuing a public apology in prominent national newspapers posthaste.

Sincerely,


Dear Dolce & Gabbana:

If I wanted my husband to smell like Matthew McConaughey, I would have him mow the lawn three times and smoke a bong.  I certainly would not purchase your cologne, especially after seeing your commercial 14 times in two hours (by actual count).

Cordially,


Dear Person Who Wrote the Song "Christmas Shoes":

I get it.  Christmas is very commercial and materialistic, and we should all feel grateful for what we have.  But this song is not the way to accomplish that.  Making me vomit on my own sympathy for some mythical child who manages to find his way (alone) to a major mall right before Christmas to buy shoes for his bed-ridden mother so she can look good when she dies is not the way to make me feel grateful for what I have.  It's like those annoying Facebook statuses like, "Post this if you want to help fuzzy bunnies not get run over by snowplows.  93% of people won't have the courage to post this, will you be one of the 7% who care?"  Really?  If you care, go outside, pick up the damn fuzzy bunny, and move it out of the way of the snowplow, because the fuzzy bunny isn't inside reading Facebook and nodding to itself self-righteously.  But I digress.

Whoever you are, if I meet you in public, I will beat you roundly about the head and shoulders with MY shoes.

With great affection,

Deb

See you all in 2011!

A Day With the Girls

As some of you may already know, I have patterned my life after Miss Vida Boheme from the film To Wong Foo: Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar.

Aside from minor anatomical differences, I think I'm doing pretty well.  Since Princess is now five years old, I thought it was time for us to have Vida's patented "Day With the Girls."  First, we dressed in our best:

Our day consisted of an elegant lunch together at Saltgrass Steak House in Galveston:

We then went to a matinee of "The Nutcracker" at the 1894 Grand Opera House:

Princess in front of the Christmas tree

Princess in her seat

We were very close to the stage, so we could see everything.

Just the girls!

But remember, some of us are still only five!

It was a wonderful day.  For the record, Sven and Dexy had a very manly day, consisting of going to the movies ("Megamind"), eating junk food, and sleeping in the recliner.

Princess was jealous.

As I Blanch at the Thought of it All

Hello, Folksy Friends!  Today you will be hearing from Deb, the etiquette aficionado, regarding the thorny issue of gift-giving.

(Deb, as you know, is something of an etiquette maven (maven: a bird with wings of unequal length) and possesses the following qualities: she is judgmental and refers to herself in the third person.)

'Tis the season for joy and social awkwardness, and also for gift giving.  To whom do we give gifts?  Is it ever polite to refuse a gift?  Do I really have to write a thank-you note for every gift?  Is there ever a time when we must give gifts?  Relax, Deb already knows.  She's just asking to make herself look smarter when she answers.

1. To whom do we give gifts?  In theory, anyone, but in reality, only those with whom one has a relationship that makes a gift appropriate.  The gift should be in proportion to the intensity of the relationship in terms of money; it is inappropriate to give an expensive gift to someone who could not be reasonably expected to reciprocate, as in the following exchange:

Co-Worker 1: Mildred, thank you so much for the can of Pringles and scratch-off lottery tickets.
Mildred: And thank you for the Tiffany key ring.
Co-Worker 1: Indeed.

Giving gifts in the work environment can be tricky, which is why I hate to do it.  I do it, though, at the last minute, every year.

2. Is it ever polite to refuse a gift?  Short answer: usually not.  There are inappropriate gifts, such as the ones Deb receives from her stalkers that include medical waste, but a well-intentioned gift should usually be accepted.  If a gift has been brought to an event at which there are no other gifts, the gift should be set aside, opened later, and thanked with a personal letter.  The exception, of course, is if you are a young, unmarried woman of unquestionable virtue who receives a gift of clothing, jewelry, or something of extreme value from a gentleman, and it is 1909.  In that case, the gift would be returned with a gracious yet frosty, "I'm afraid our relationship does not permit me to accept gifts of this value."

3. Do I have to write a thank-you letter for every gift I receive?  While Deb, of course, routinely writes thank-you letters for everything, including some to dogs who refrain from decorating her lawn, the answer to this is no.  If a gift is opened in the presence of the giver, thanks should be verbally issued then.  No follow-up thank-you letter is necessary.  A gift that is not, however, must be acknowledged, and the correct way is with a letter.  Some relationships may permit phone calls, but Deb pretends that doesn't happen.

4. Is there ever a time when we must give gifts?  Of course.  Don't kid yourself.  Etiquette's official stance, "A gift is never required," is misdirection intended to fool greedy hosts who believe a social event can actually yield a profit if done correctly.  A gracious guest would never attend any of the following events without a tangible gift:

• A shower (wedding or bridal)
• A birthday party (regardless of the age of the recipient)
• A formal dinner
• A wedding
• A bar or bat mitzvah
• An overnight or extended visit

A "tangible gift" is just that: a gift that one can physically put into the hand of another person, that the recipient can then, in theory, put to some purpose.  Gifts can be consumable (food, flowers, tickets) or more permanent.  They do not have to be expensive, but they should be thoughtful.  (In fact, Deb is of the opinion that the less expensive a gift is, the more thoughtful it tends to be, because people with financial restrictions tend to be more creative when it comes to gift-giving.  A gift of money, including gift cards, tends to be larger in terms of financial worth because of the lack of creativity and thought involved.)

And now, Deb would like to address the notion that one's "presence" is "present" enough.  No, it isn't.  I'm sure that the hosts will say it is, or even sincerely feel that it is, but no guest can be considered "gracious" who goes through the following thought process:

1. I've been invited to this wedding.
2. I don't want to give them a present.
3. They should just be grateful I deigned to attend at all.
4. My presence is enough.

Unless one's last name is "Winfrey," there is absolutely no justification for anyone to think this way.  This is one of those classic etiquette disparities between the expectations of hosts and guests.  Hosts should be grateful that guests decided to take the time to attend their events.  Guests should feel grateful that hospitality was extended to them and they were included in such a special time.  Neither side should sit back and say, "Well, they should just be happy and shut up about it."  Guests, give your gifts.  Hosts, say thank you.  Life will be much more gracious.

And goodness knows, we need more graciousness.  Deb is going to lie down now.