Conversation: Sven and Me

Sven: Did you hear about Whoosits?

Deb: No, what's going on with him?

Sven: His wife left him.

Deb: No!

Sven: Yes, she picked up the kids from school and sent him a text message that she was leaving.

Deb: A text message?

Sven: Yep.

Deb: Seriously?  A text message?

Sven: A text message.

Deb: Wow, that's bad.

Sven: Yeah.

Deb: Honey, I promise you, if I ever leave you...

Sven: (chuckles) Okay, I appreciate that.

Deb: ...I won't take the kids.

Fin.

Announcement: Moderation In Effect

With all due apologies to my bloggy friends, it saddens me to say that my comments will be moderated for the next little while.  Somehow, my blog as been targeted by purveyors of Far Eastern Erotica (or Asian porn, for those who enjoy directness).  Desiring to nip that in the bud, I will be moderating until such a time as the quasi-supportive yet linked comments cease.

Stay folksy!

LOST: Finale (Readers Who Do Not Follow Lost feel free to skip, I need this for therapeutic reasons)

Last night was the series finale of "Lost," a show I have watched for its entire 6-year run.  Let me begin my recap by explaining why I feel so incredibly emotionally attached to the show.

When Lost first aired (September 2004), I was beginning tests and treatments for various medical conditions.  (Though the treatments worked quickly, the tests were both painful and discouraging.)  I needed escape.  Lost really provided it, but in a way that made me think.  And I thought all the time!  What is a polar bear doing there?  Who is that French woman?  What are the "Others?"

Season 2 began as I was preparing to give birth to Princess.  I vividly remember watching Lost while sitting on the couch feeding her.  Even now, when I watch episodes, it seems that I can remember holding my babies and talking to Sven, saying, "What are they doing?  How are they going to explain that?"

Last night, we got the answer: they aren't going to explain that.  In fact, they aren't going to explain much of anything, if your idea of "explanation" is someone stating factual information that details why or how something exists or happens.  Instead, the finale brought us intensely satisfying closure on the characters, some of whom we had not seen since Season 1, and raised the question: what's really important?

I'm reading a lot of viewer reaction this morning, and it occurs to me that the camp is pretty evenly divided between softies like me who loved the emotional roller-coaster aspect of the show, and sci-fi geeks like Sven who really liked the mystery and the science.  What intrigues me about the conflict is that each side is equally passionate, and each side thinks the other is wrong.  Not wrong in a "let's debate" sort of way: factually wrong.

(If it isn't obvious from the first few paragraphs, there will be spoilers, but they are about to start, so...)

I always knew the Sideways World wasn't "real" in the same sense that the island was.  While character after character became "Island Enlightened," only Desmond knew that both worlds existed in both worlds.  Jack's journey to Island Enlightenment mirrored his entire journey throughout the series: moving from a man of science to a man of faith.  I think this is what the whole point was: the science was never as important as the characters, the love, the faith of knowing that, even if you didn't understand every detail, it will all end well.

The Sideways World was a sort of limbo/purgatory that the castaways created for themselves, I think for two reasons:

1. To be reunited after death and spend eternity together, yes, but also
2. To live some of the life they *might* have lived if there had been no island, but also if some of their other past mistakes had been erased.

So, in the Sideways World, Sun had never cheated on Jin.  Kate was a fugitive, but she was innocent of the crime she was accused of.  Jack had a family, albeit a dysfunctional one.  Locke had his lovely fiancee and the love of his father, for a time.  Sawyer was an honest cop.  Sayid was not a hired killer.  Hurley was lucky.

So, for the last time, here's MY THEORY!!! on how the Sideways World was created:

When Hurley took over guardianship of the island, Ben told him he could make his own rules, that he didn't have to do the same things Jacob did.  He then said Hurley should do "what you do best: take care of people."  I think Hurley spent his tenure on the island as guardian using the island's power to establish this place, where they could all be together at the point when they are the most happy.  Charlie and Claire can be together and raise Aaron (though the real Aaron has lived his life his own way).  Sun and Jin get to experience her pregnancy together and the birth of Ji Yeon.  Jack and Kate get to live happily ever after.  So, to my extreme and supreme delight, do Sawyer and Juliet.  I think there was a reason Desmond "deputized" Hurley so early into assisting with enlightenment: Hurley was the one who created the Sideways Universe, so until Hurley was ready to move on, none of them could.

As far as the island reality, I don't think it is important to know what the light is, where it came from, etc. There would have been no really plausible scientific explanation for something clearly supernatural/religious.  It was better not to answer it at all.  The important thing is, we know Jacob was telling the truth: if the light goes out, that's very, very bad.  The rest, I will admit, leaves me with some curiosity, but it's pleasant curiosity.  How the heck did the Dharma initiative establish itself on the island?  (My theory: Charles Widmore sold it out, that's where he got his fortune.)

My only real complaint is that I wanted Mr. Eko to be there.  (I know others are bemoaning the lack of Michael/Walt, but not me.)  I loved the Mr. Eko character, and I wanted to see him.  I also wanted to know about the Egyptian statue.  I hope there are some bonus features on the DVD to explain some of this stuff, just to satisfy my own curiosity.

I loved it.  I still have questions, but for six years, that's what Lost gave me: questions to think about.  I love that I'm still thinking.

Relinquishing the Crown

 It is well-documented on this blog that I consider myself ideally suited for two positions:

1. Queen of England, or

2. Oprah.

(You may say, "Deb, those aren't positions, they are people," to which I would reply, "Shut up and fetch my tiara/producer/pool servant.")

Knowing that, it may surprise you to know that I am currently stepping down from my current throne.  Yes, it is hard, but I have come to the conclusion that I am no longer fit to wear the crown.  I am speaking, of course, of my current position as Queen of Passive-Aggressiveness.

I loathe passive-aggressive behavior, which is why I was so surprised to learn that I am the reigning Queen.  "Deb!" you say.  "Not you, you couldn't possibly be passive-aggressive!"  To which I reply, "Of course, you're right."  And then I roll my eyes and write nasty things about you in my Enemies List (or "journal").

I have been doing some rare introspection lately, and I have noticed that I say certain things too often:

"It's going to be a disaster, but I won't say anything."

"They probably need me to do it, but if they need me, they can ask me."

"I won't call her.  If she wants to talk, she'll call me."  (Not you, Momz.)

"Well, I guess we'll try it their way, and when it is a COMPLETE AND UTTER FAILURE AND THE WHOLE PLACE BURNS DOWN, I guess they'll have learned their lesson."  (Slightly exaggerated.)

Further introspection has led me to understand that I don't do this deliberately, it is my defense to feeling unappreciated and overloaded.  Drawing on the wisdom of the ages, "You can only change your own behavior," (Either Dr. Phil or Alice Cooper), I have begun being extremely proactive.  A sample conversation with me now goes like this.

"There is a completely random event coming up that has nothing to do with you," says someone.
"Do you want me to get a musical number ready?" I ask.

-or-

"There is a completely random event coming up that has nothing to do with you," says someone.
"Wow, I'm sorry to miss that," I say.  Or, perhaps, "You'll do a great job!"

-or, best of all-

"Hi, someone who hasn't yet contacted me for help but will certainly need it and wait until the last moment to ask me!  Let me help you!" says Deb.
"Thank you," says someone, sometimes bursting into tears.

The remarkable thing about this new approach is that I am much, much more relaxed.  I no longer sit there wondering when or if I will be asked to deal with something.  I ask outright, and go from there.

I don't do what I do for appreciation, but I wonder if my former passive-aggressiveness was my way of trying to force people into appreciating me.  Not my friends, or my family, but my co-workers and more casual acquaintances.  It's very self-defeating; I think if I make them come ask me at the last minute, they will appreciate me, but if they are thoughtless enough to wait that long, why do I assume they'll be appreciative?  Then again, if I just pop up randomly and offer to do what they need me to do, won't they just take me for granted and, perhaps, assume that what I do is so easy I don't need any notice or warning?

With the end of the school year upon us, it is the time for me to make my resolutions for next year.  I'm going to take a risk and resolve to be far less passive-aggressive at work.  I will continue to anticipate, volunteer, and meddle.  Hopefully this will result in a clearer path and a happier me.

But I promise to keep up the silent heckling at staff development.

Common Courtesy

It is my sincere goal to be the best teacher I can be for my students every day, in hopes that, one day, I will inspire them enough to rate a TV movie based on my life.  It will air, hopefully, on TNT and star Reese Witherspoon, who will do it for an Emmy but will still respect the source material.  (Reese is the only actress with sufficient chin to play me.  If TNT passes, the Lifetime version will star Tori Spelling or that girl from "Father of the Bride."  That will be the unauthorized version, in which I'm molested by my dentist before sponsoring a cheerleading squad who become bounty hunters to raise money for the big trip to Florida.  It will be "loosely based.")

To further that effort, I have been using Ron Clark's "The Essential 55," which lists the 55 rules he teaches his students in order for them to be able to function in school and in the real world.  Some of the rules are very school-specific, about walking in a line, etc., but others are real-word rules.  Most of them cover what used to be called "common courtesy:" if you bump into someone, say "excuse me."  If you are coming through a door and someone is behind you, hold the door for him or her.

You should see the eyes of my students light up with awe when I tell them that there was a time, long, long ago, when people knew it was discourteous to blast loud music at 3 a.m.  When people just *knew* to smile at a stranger, or how to begin a conversation with a face to face person without using the word "wuz" or "zup."  I tell them, "Students, we can do this.  We can bring back common courtesy."  Then one of them farts.

Of course, teaching my own students can only go so far.  To make my dream come true (and let's be clear, the dream is enduring fame for myself and enough money to ensure that I never have to teach again) I must write a book.  Here, then is the beginning of "Folksy Deb's Completely Non-Essential 5: Five Rules People Shouldn't Need But Do, Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire."  (That last isn't really true, but it is total awards bait.)

Rule 1: After someone burps or otherwise emits gas in a public setting, the only polite way to deal with it is to pretend it didn't exist, other than involuntary responses such as tears streaming from your eyes or mild gagging.  At home, if your father, brother, or sister is responsible for the emission, you may tease, fan the air dramatically, or scream "What did you eat???"  If it is your mother or grandmother who is responsible, the same rule as public applies, unless the family pet is blamed.

Rule 2: When you talk to someone, you must look in that person's general direction.  Turning to the side to point at whatever you're complaining about means I can't hear you.  After three times, I will give up, so make it count.

Rule 3: If you want to use big words, please make sure you know what they mean.  Frequently confused words include "appalled" and "impressed," "statuary" and "statuesque," and "flagrant" and "flatulent" (see above).  Believe it or not, your choice of word can alter what you are saying.

Rule 4: If you use the wrong words, do not be upset with the teacher who is now very concerned about your statutory flatulence.  You said it.

Rule 5: Treat a teacher in May the same way you would a fragile, blown-out eggshell that has been delicately painted with pastoral scenes.  If you want her to be around next year, be gentle.  Think long-term.  It's the key to success.

Ms. Witherspoon, I am available for consultations beginning June 4.

Pants On Fire

I am an appallingly good liar.  If I want to, I can usually get people to believe something, even if that something is (to me) blatantly, obviously untrue.  I do not use my powers for evil, however.  I use them for comedy.  That has not always been the case.

When I was a kid, I used to lie for attention.  I recognize now that I was exercising a very vivid imagination.  Writing helped to end that behavior.  Once I could write something imaginary, I no longer had to live something imaginary, if that makes sense.

Would it surprise you to learn that this is not uncommon behavior?  Some of our greatest actors and writers have behaved like that.  In fact, the great Sarah Bernhardt often told her childhood chums that she was, in fact, the love child of the Prince of Wales (her real father was a pubkeeper in Bristol).  I just made that up, but you get my point.  A lot of creative people go through a "lying" phase.  Mine was over by the time I was a teenager.  Now I write, which is like lying on paper.  Acting is lying on film or onstage.  None of this bothers me.

Princess likes to lie.  Of course, the kind of lying she does is usually called "Pretending."  She tells me her grandfather is a mailman who lives in a big house two streets over from us.  She tells me that, at school, a tree came to life and took her to the meadow to talk to the cows, who thinks she is gorgeous.  I'm working very hard to make sure Princess understands that pretending is okay, as long as you let people know you're pretending.  When her friend Allie came over to play, Allie's mom asked me, "Where is Princess' sister?"  I said, "She doesn't have one."  Apparently, Princess told Allie and Allie's mom that she has an older sister named Sarah who goes to big school.  Pretending.  This doesn't bother me, but I confess I'm a little worried about the future.

What does bother me is the very, very low tolerance I have for lying now.  Not the kind of lying I do, just to be funny, or the pretending Princess does, but the kind of lying others do: deliberately misleading other people for attention, to escape the consequences of bad behavior, or whatever other justification they dream up to excuse it.  Frankly, I've had enough.

I really think lying is not the worst thing someone can do, but it's probably one of the dumbest.  Compounding a wrong with another is never a good idea, but that's not even the point: even the best liars get caught.  The key to being a good liar is to be believable.  Once someone has caught you in a lie, you've lost it.  You know that people will always check on what you say, so you have to be careful to either cover your tracks to a ridiculous extent, or make up something that no one could possibly check.

Sorry, I'm reading one of Patricia Highsmith's "Ripley" books right now, and I've got lying on the brain. It's not surprising; statistics show that women are 87% more likely to be affected by books written by female writers.

I made that up, too.

Deep Breath

Fifteen days.

Fifteen days.

Freedom comes in fifteen days.

Beaches.

Mountains.

Sparkling streams.

Mine for two months.

Plump baby cheeks.

Sticky baby hands.

Moist kisses and endless questions.

Fifteen more days and it's mine.

May is the longest month.

Who Disgusts Me More?

And now, it's time for America's newest sensation:

WHO...

DISGUSTS...

US...

MORE?

Today, we're looking at CELEBRITY MISTRESSES!  Yes, the latest trend in the world of celebrity is for a seemingly intelligent, successful man to have a series of relationships with increasingly sleazy women and cover them up with such ineptitude that we have trouble believing they are capable of tying their shoes, let alone playing a round of golf.

Our first contestant in WHO DISGUSTS ME MORE is the one who really started it all... RIELLE HUNTER!

Yes, Rielle kicked off this latest round of unscrupulous women by having an affair with politician John Edwards.   Hunter had an affair (and a love child) with Edwards, who, until then, seemed to have a fairly good shot at the vice-presidential nomination.

Did I mention John Edwards' wife, Elizabeth, was recovering from cancer at the time?  When he had the affair?  And the child?  But she was in remission, as Mr. Edwards pointed out in his own defense.  I mean, he's not a monster.

Rielle reached new lows last week on the Oprah show, where we learn everything.  I offer, for your consideration, the following information:

• Ms. Hunter insisted that having an affair with Mr. Edwards was not wrong because he was, "available."  I assume she meant this in a metaphysical sense, since he was very much married.
• She defended her actions as "living [our] truth."  When Oprah, delving deep into her soul to attempt to find a question that could possibly coerce this woman into saying something that didn't sound like it originated with The Love Guru, countered with, "What do you do when your truth hurts others?" there was no real answer.
• When asked if she knew whether or not her actions had hurt Elizabeth Edwards, Ms. Hunter answered, "You'd have to ask her."  Nice.

Certainly, Rielle will be tough to beat.  Fortunately, I'm about to drop a bombshell on all of you.

No, that's not my Christmas card from my senior year of college, that's Michelle "Bombshell" McGee, the woman who broke the news to all of us that Jesse James wasn't Sandra Bullock's Prince Charming.   Upon first glance, it is easy to dismiss Bombshell as just another heavily-tattooed, Nazi-sympathizing, fetish-modelling lady about town, but there's more to it.  Consider these statements from Bombshell's various interviews: (From ABC News)

• "I feel bad for Sandra," the heavily tattooed model and stripper said on Australia's "Today Tonight" Monday. "I know what she's going through. She must be hurt, devastated, upset, embarrassed."
• Asked what she'd say to Bullock, McGee replied, "I want to give her a heartfelt apology. Sandra, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your embarrassment. I'm sorry all of this is public."

I am absolutely not prepared to say whether or not I believe this is sincere.  It may be, it may not be.  Her sincerity isn't important.  What's important is this: 

BOMBSHELL MCGEE UNDERSTANDS THAT YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE AFFAIRS WITH MARRIED MEN!  ARE YOU LISTENING, MS. HUNTER?

Please, do not misunderstand me.  I believe the person most at fault in all of these situations is the men.  The men are the ones who broke their wedding vows.  The men are the ones who chose to lie to their wives and sustain relationships outside of their marriage.  I don't blame the women for the situation.

That being said, to say that the women bear no responsibility, as Rielle Hunter seems to, is ludicrous.  If you are working closely with a man you know to be married, you keep your distance until he is divorced, no matter how much you love and adore him.  Really.  At least Bombshell had the decency to say she thought Jesse and Sandra were separated.  Bombshell, tattoos and all, knows that YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF IF YOU GET INVOLVED WITH A MARRIED MAN!  Of course, taking it to the media isn't exactly evidence of shame, and I never said I believe she is completely sincere, but at least she has the decency to pretend.  Rielle's very honesty is what disgusts me: she honestly seems to believe that her affair with a married man (and let's not forget the love child!) is not her problem.

So, congratulations, Rielle!  You are the winner!

You so don't want to know what the prize is.