Don’t Call Me ‘Honey’

Don’t call me honey.   I ain’t your baby.  A dear is an animal that lives in the woods.

What is it with men?  Lately, whether it’s a client on the other end of the phone, or the drycleaner around the corner, every man I come into contact with feels it’s acceptable to call me anything EXCEPT my given name.  Hell, at this rate I’d be happy to get a “ma’am.”

Sweetie.  Honey.  Baby.  Some call them “endearments.”  I think of them as “diminutives.”  Something said to make me feel smaller, less important, childlike.

I had a boyfriend in the food service industry who once called me only food-related names:  honey, sugar, sweet pea, jelly bean, muffin…you get the idea.

You don’t see men saddled with such “endearments” do you?  Every term women use to describe men seems to build them up, not make them less:  They’re a HUNK…they’re as handsome as a Greek GOD…nobody’s gonna call the guy at the gym who bench presses 260 jelly bean!

Why would any woman want to be referred to as “baby?”  I’m not a baby.  I can dress and feed and take care of myself thank you very much!  I don’t need constant attention or coddling.  You don’t need to handle me with care.

What’s wrong with a strong woman?  A woman who can take care of herself?

If anyone’s a “baby” it’s that guy at the gym when he’s caught the common cold.  Have you ever played nursemaid to a man with the sniffles?  Now that’s a herculean task!

 

Who’s Behind the Mask?

Halloween is one of my all-time favorite holidays.  After all, when else is it perfectly acceptable to walk around in 6-inch stiletto heels, black fishnet stockings, and bright red lipstick?

I was never one to have especially cool or witty costumes as a kid.  No, I was a kid who usually wore those store-bought costumes.

Except one year.  I went as a housewife.  I put on my mom’s long baby blue quilted bathrobe and her shag wig – complete with rollers and shower cap, applied some coral lipstick, and stuck a cigarette in my mouth.  Ta da!  Housewife!  Now what does that say about my perceptions of a woman’s role in society in the mid 1970’s? 

If I were to choose a costume today though, I’d dress in a long red sequin gown, like Michelle Pfeiffer in the movie “The Fabulous Baker Boys” and call myself a lounge singer.  Or maybe I’d go as a teacher.  A hip New Yorker.  Or a grandma.  Things I always wanted to be in my real life, but never got the chance. 

Each of us puts on a costume every day.  From the fashions we choose to the make up we apply in the morning.  Everyone is walking around every day with a mask of sorts.  Whether it’s putting on a brave face in front of our children, or holding back tears when our boss criticizes a project we’ve worked hard on. 

Monday, after I pack the Halloween costumes away, after too much candy has been eaten, and I’m back at the same of old office with the same old cappuccino in hand I’ll be wondering what’s behind my co-workers every day masks.

The Good Ole Days

Mad Men is the latest television craze.  I confess, I’m addicted.  It’s easy to get sucked into a world where everyone looks like Barbie and Ken and smoking doesn’t cause cancer. 

The stylish AMC series has won acclaim for its authentic depiction of life in the early 1960’s.  A time when men ruled the world and women waited for them at home wrapped in cellophane with a martini in hand.

Were the good ole days really that bad?  Was there something wrong with Don and Betty Draper’s existence?  I don’t think so.

I like the idea of a man hurrying off to catch the train in a suit and hat.  I don’t even mind the idea of a woman vacuuming in a day dress and pearls – not even if I’m the one doing the vacuuming. 

Sure women’s worlds were much smaller then. 

Today we “get” to go to the office – just like men do.  We have jobs with just as much responsibility.  But I’d argue that we’re still far from equal. 

We’re not equal because when we come home from that office – regardless of whether or not it has a glass ceiling – we’re still the ones vacuuming… and cooking dinner, and taking care of the kids while hubby is reading his newspaper – or today, more likely checking the news online.

I’m for true equality.  A world where work outside and inside the home is equally shared. 

But, in the absence of true equality, I’ll happily take a few steps backwards.  At least I’ll have a nice strand of pearls!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! 

 No, I’m not hopped up on espresso this morning and racing so quickly that I think we’ve actually reached 20-10…or two thousand ten…or whatever we’re gonna call it.  I just always think of fall as the beginning of a new year, don’t you?

No matter how many decades it’s been since the final school bell rang for me, I always think of fall as a time of new beginnings, rather than the beginning of the end of the year. 

The beginning of the school year always brought something new:  a new wardrobe, new teachers, new friends, and new challenges.

I find the crisp, clean autumn air invigorating. It’s a welcome change after the stifling humidity of August when everything and everybody seemed to be in slow motion. When fall comes around I want to…I don’t know … DO something.   Clean the garage. Rake some leaves.  Go apple picking.  Cook a pot roast. 

The days may be shorter, but there’s nothing better to keep you from putting on your pajamas and hiding under the covers when it turns dark at 5:30 than a new project — something to give you a reason to get through November and the New England winters that never seem to end.  So shrug off that seasonal affective disorder, pull on that ratty cardigan, and turn over a new leaf!

Get back in that old familiar rhythm.  Learn something new this fall.  Take a class … join a book group…start a wine lover’s club…take up quilting, or knitting.  Come on, you’re burning daylight!

Cats and Dogs Living Together…Mass Hysteria!

Should men and women live together? 

You wouldn’t put a rabbit in the same pen as a wolf would you, so please tell me who ever thought that men and women should cohabitate?

Women are generally domestic creatures.  We feather our nests with decorations from Pottery Barn and Crate and Barrel.  We light scented candles even when no one special is coming over. 

Men are more wild creatures; some would say uncouth.  They never see the crumbs they leave on the kitchen counter after they make a sandwich.  They leave their socks on the floor.  And we won’t even talk about the toilet seat.  Maybe they’d be better off living in the outdoors.

Men shed!  The evidence is right there in the bathroom sink and in the far corners of your bathroom floor.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I enjoy having a man in my life.  I just don’t know if I want to live with one.

Men are loud!  They can’t seem to watch television without their surround sound…and sub wuffers… and god knows what else. 

Women tend to appreciate quiet.  Except at the dinner table.  That’s the one time when a little conversation would be appreciated.

Now I have heard rumors of cats and dogs living together.  Apparently it does happen.  All of God’s creatures can live in peace and harmony.  But those who have brought their pets together to live in unity say it takes a very, very long time. 

I don’t know if I have the time or patience to train a man.

Equality in the Air

I was on a flight from Boston to LA the other day.  Everyone was getting situated when the pilot’s voice came over the speaker.  “Thank you for flying American Airlines. We are number three for take off.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel very confident,” my flying companion said. 

“Why?” I asked. 

“It’s a GIRL pilot,” she replied. 

A GIRL pilot?!  First of all I’m quite sure she was over 17 years of age, so let’s assume she was a WOMAN…and secondly, what does her gender have to do with it? 

“Well, I’d just feel better if the pilot were a man” my seat mate said. 

You could have knocked me over with her dainty handbag!  Here we were two FEMALE professionals headed to the west coast on business and my co-worker was uncomfortable that the pilot was a SHE!

In an age when women outnumber men in American colleges is there any question that there’s equality among the sexes?  That we’re equally as capable?  Apparently, the answer is still YES.

I’m appealing to all the mothers out there.  It’s your job to school your daughters – and sons.  Don’t be like me. 

Ever since the early ‘90s I’ve out-earned the men in my life.  I’ve taken equality for granted for so long that I don’t even think to tell my niece that she’s every bit as bright, strong, and valuable as her brother.  That she can be anything she wants to be when she grows up – even a pilot!

The Disposable Economy

Anyone know a good cobbler?  Seamstress?  TV Repairman?

Of course not!  Not anymore.  Because we live in a disposable economy.

We don’t fix things anymore.   We simply throw them out and buy new ones.

It makes me stop and think about how little we value our belongings.  How little patience we have when things don’t work as they ought.  And it’s not because the things that are breaking are cheap.

The color settings on my $600 television went all ka-plooey after a fierce thunder and lightening storm.  I called Best Buy.  They told me that since I hadn’t purchased the warranty I was out of luck.  They said for $200 they could send someone to the house to look at it, but there was no guaranteeing they could fix it.  I’m now very used to watching a television where the clouds in the sky are red, and if any action happens at night it’s a total mystery to me because I can’t see a damn thing.

In today’s disposable economy we don’t darn our socks, mend our clothes – or our relationships – we just replace them.   Get new ones.

Call me old fashioned but I refuse to just throw things out.  Get rid of them because they’re not perfect.

I’m totally content to watch my much-too-red television – even if the colors aren’t true to life.  And I have plenty of friends – some who have known me for decades — who will watch it with me.  They’re not disposable at all.

Money

I met with my financial advisor the other day.

We talked about a whole bunch of things, but surprisingly we hardly mentioned dollars and cents at all.  Instead we talked about hopes, fears, and dreams.

Money is emotional.  The decisions we make about money are emotional – even for those of us who fancy ourselves business-minded, rational people. 

I won’t deny I have my own idiosyncrasies when it comes to money.  I’ll spend $100 on my share of the dinner tab without batting an eye, but I won’t splurge on a $3.59 bag of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milano Cookies!

I guess how each of us chooses to spend – or not spend — money is a reflection of our priorities.  My sister refuses to buy my 10-year-old niece a cell phone even though all her friends have one (good for her) yet her kids are always superbly-dressed – just like she is.  I, on the other hand, won’t spend $50 for a pair of pants.  Both of us, however, are big on vacations.  And even now, when money’s a little tight, I’m still planning a trip to Italy with my mom and dad to visit my uncle for his upcoming birthday.

I’ve struggled with money my entire life.  I’ve always been afraid that I won’t have enough.  As a single woman without any kids, I know I won’t have anyone to depend on financially in my ripe old age – or more importantly when my ripe old age turns a little rotten.

It’s a balancing act I guess.  I’m still trying to get it right.  Trying to save enough to have a secure future, but not be too afraid to spend some now and actually LIVE.

Favorites from my Bookshelf

Writer Anna Quindlen once said “I would be most content if my children grew up to be
the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves.”   

Here are some favorite books that have found their way onto my shelves. 

A Walk on the Beach, by Joan Anderson – Tales of wisdom from an unconventional woman.  After reading this, I’m eager to take a trip to Chatham to see the seals, even if it doesn’t change my life the way it did hers. 

The Secret Currency of Love, edited by Hilary Black – a collection of personal essays about money, love, and our struggle with both.

Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert –  I feared this book was going to be too “crunchy granola” for my taste, but that wasn’t the case at all.  Gilbert chronicles her travels through Italy, India and Bali.  If you’re a travel aficionado, a foodie, or just in want of some adventure, let Gilbert sweep you away.

Hypocrite in a Poufy White Dress, by Susan Jane Gilman – These humorous coming of age stories rang so true that for a moment I thought I was reading about my own childhood.  But this is funnier!

The Bitch in the House – 26 women tell the truth about sex, solitude, work, motherhood and marriage.  If you believe in girl power…or were just born female, you’ll find something to like in this book.

Nine Stories, by J.D. Salinger  — Sure you read Catcher in the Rye in high school, but what else of Salinger’s have you read?   I go back to this little collection over and over again and never tire of them.

Happy Reading!

Big Night Out

My girlfriends want to go out for a big night on the town.

A night on the town! Who are they kidding?  I just turned 44. For me a night on the town ends at 10pm.  It’s not that I need to be home in time to see the evening news — I can’t even keep my eyes open that long – it’s just that  I don’t see the need to be awake when tomorrow rears it’s ugly head!

I’d like to blame it on my rapidly increasing age, but sadly that’s not the case.  I’ve never been one to “party like its 1999.”  (Not even when it was 1999!) 

Just give me a few martinis after work, or a glass of wine and some appetizers and I’m happy to call it a night.

Friends used to call me an “old soul,” now they just call me “old.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love to hang out with the girls.  But these days I just prefer to start a little earlier in the day.  Instead of going out to dinner, what’s wrong with a nice brunch? 

I don’t like the din of restaurants when they get crowded at night.  I can barely hear the person sitting across the table from me.  And after all isn’t that what it’s supposed to be about — connecting with other people?  I’d rather avoid Boston traffic, spend that $20 on a bottle of wine rather than a parking space, and linger over my own dinner table for a few hours with my very best friends. 

I guess my big night out will likely be dinner in!