What Next – 50 Shades of Gray Hair

Forgive me Father…For I’m Gonna Piss Someone Off (I Just Know It)

I am compelled to say this because, having walked away from the morning news about this…I had such a bad taste in my mouth, I had to rinse.

And as you know, this is where I do it.

You are my Mouthwash. 🙂

So, here goes…

I’m surprised that by now, that FB isn’t all a-Twitter, about the newest black/white scandal

It appears, this year, the members of the Academy of Motion Pictures, has neglected to nominate even one black thespian. I know right?

Annnnnnd, not even one black director! What next I ask.

Wait…there’s more…not one single woman director was nominated either…even though (as has been suggested) everyone knows Ava DuVernay, the black, female, director of Selma should have been a shoe in.

There even seems to be some lamenting the fact that she could have been the first African American Female Director to get an OSCAR.

Well guess what? SHE. STILL. CAN!
As there were NO OTHER black female directors nominated, she’s still got a shot at that title.

True?

Now, I don’t mean to sound sarcastic, but if I do it’s because I am.
[A bit of a sarcastic statement there.]

I just cannot believe that EVERYTHING and EVERYONE, even the OSCARS with 6,000 members of the Motion Picture Academy, have to walk, talk, and apparently vote, on eggshells where black and white are concerned.

Okay…should there have been black actors and directors, as well as female directors nominated?
Maybe.
Could be.
But…it’s all subjective isn’t it?
To each his own?
Vote for who and what you believe to be the best?

Are we now going to institute a quota system…the Oscar version of Affirmative Action?

If so, what shall we call these special awards?
Awards given to someone because they represent a minority?
What shall we call these unearned, yet apparently deserved, awards to celebrate diversity over and above all else?

We cannot use OSCAR…that’s taken.

How about a MARTIN for the men?
(Seems fitting to name it after MLK doesn’t it?)

How about a SELMA for the browner women actresses and directors?
(Browner is NOT my term by the way…I borrowed it from a self-proclaimed brown commentator on CBS as she was telling the viewing audience that America was getting browner, so we need to be more open to accepting it)

And maybe NORMA RAE for those of a different or lighter hue?

Do you see how ludicrous this all is?

Do you see how ridiculous a face to face conversation containing ANY of the above would be incredibly demeaning on its face?

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just being naïve thinking that the folks voting for these awards are voting their preferences and not looking to maintain some kind of white status quo.

I don’t know anymore.

What I DO know is, it frustrates me to think that any, and I mean ANY, professional would welcome accolades based on the color of their skin or whether the bump’s in the pants or the t-shirt.

The views expressed here are my own and reflect completely and honestly what I believe.

I think we are ALL DESERVING of everything we deserve.

But I also know we don’t always GET what we deserve.

That’s life.

And that’s it.

“Misogynistic MINI Mechanics” or “WHOA…Them Dudes Make a Shit-ton of Dough!

After 3 weeks, I leave the Great Frozen North (a.k.a. The Northeast Kingdom) Friday, on the journey south to reclaim Mini Me and head home to Virginia on Saturday.

The hotel room near the dealership is booked so I can arrive at the service door bright and early Saturday morning to pick her up.

Speaking of the dealership…I was in contact with them today, as I had asked them to do an ‘extended’ test drive to make sure she was sound, knowing I was leaving for Virginia directly from picking her up.

Word back from the Wrench Wench was…

“The test drive went really well, the Mini’s purring, but one of her high beams is out.”

“Which one?” I ask

“Driver’s side high beam” she replies

“Really? I had that replaced in July” I remind her, since she has all the service records.

“Maybe the other dealership used an aftermarket bulb” suggested she.

“Not sure what you mean by aftermarket bulb Marissa. Last I checked, the bulbs were not MINI specific. As far as I can tell from the receipt, they installed a Sylvania 9008, which seems to be the standard.”

“Do you want us to fix it? If you do, I can order the bulb today and it will be here tomorrow.”

“Order it? You don’t HAVE one? What would that cost me Marissa?”

“$78.96”

“To replace a bulb????”

“The cost of the bulb is $13.96 plus tax. Labor to install is $69.13. And, if you had it replaced at a dealership last time, maybe they would offer a warranty on the bulb?”

“Marissa, the cost to replace that same bulb in July was $36 complete. I think charging $69 just to install a bulb is MORE than UNREASONABLE! I’m not sure why your quote is so high, but would appreciate if you could work with me on the price (not to mention, between me and the warranty company, you just got paid 8,600 bucks!”

” I can’t really speak for other dealer’s pricing. All dealerships vary around the country usually because of state differences.”

“Well, I think I’ll pass on your installing a replacement bulb and I’ll take care of it when I get home.”

Sing along with me?

I dream of Mini with the bright gold lights…

Yeah, you’d think so wouldn’t you?

I’m really not convinced this entire scenario would have played out the same way had I, been a bloke and not a sheila.

Even a sheila as mouthy as me.

Who’s to know for sure.

All I do know, is that come Saturday morning…I’m back behind the wheel, headed home.

And depending on how fast I dare to drive until I know Mini Me is with me or against me…

14 or so hours later (I’m taking the road less traveled home), I’ll be in my own bed, snugglin’ with my Sadie, and scratching my husband.

Oh wait…In my own bed, scratching my Sadie and snugglin’ my husband.

Either way…I’ll be at a Ford dealership the day after.

Depend on it!

I’ll let ya know how it goes.

🙂

Is That Wonder Woman Whistlin’ Dixie?

A short re-cap…

Toddler Troll ’14 has died…

…and Damien ’15 now reigns

**Do NOT let that innocent face fool you!**

Damien declared the war of Two Ought One and Four was not over.
He was now spearheading the charge.

El Jefe sent his mangy minion “Mini Masher Mickey” to mangle my Mini

mini masher mickey 1 — **Mini Masher Mickey**

Mad as Hell Wonder Woman (that’s me…just ask my SideKick Mimi)

WW ready to kick some ‘service’ ass and take some names…

**I know she’s not a minion, but I could NOT resist! Could you?**

Alright…that brings us to right here and right now…

So
How DOES a mad as hell Wonder F-Ugly end up Whistlin’ Dixie?

(She puts her lips together and blows, silly)

No, seriously…

After she hangs up the phone from the conversation with the Mini Service Manager, as follows:

Manager: I have some news.

Me: Oh yeah?

Manager: The warranty inspector was here today.

Me: Yeah, so I was expecting.

Manager: He looked at the engine.

Me: Right. That’s what he was there for.

Manager: He said it was a broken Tensioner.

Me: Yeah, you told me that already. Were you unsure?

Manager: No, he just confirmed it.

Me: Good. Now what?

Manager: He agreed the engine needed to be replaced.

Me: I thought you had NEWS? (Not OLDS!) You already told me that.

Manager: I also told you in my experience, they would not pay for it.

Me: Yeah, I didn’t forget that part.

Manager: Well…

Me: Well…..what?

Manager: They agreed to cover it.

Me: Really?

Manager: Yes. They were going to cover a ‘used’ one but we ran the numbers an
it was within a couple hundred for a new one, so you’re getting a new one.

Me: I’d have gotten a new one anyway, but go on.

Manager: They are paying me directly, so all you have to cover is the new battery
and turbo oil line, which are not covered.

Me: How much?

Manager: $692

Me: You do know both the battery and that oil line were replaced last year?

Manager: Yes, but since you’re getting a new engine, we don’t want to screw around with old parts.

Me: Ok. How much are the two replacements?

Manager: $350 for the battery, $200 for the line, plus tax and labor.

Me: $350 for a battery? Jesus, what the hell is it made of?

Manager: It’s specific to Minis.

Me: Really? No other car can use it?

Manager: Well, not exactly, but this one’s housing and stuff are made specifically
for Mini.

Me: Ah, I see. (You guys figure since I’m getting a new engine paid for I may as well just suck up a 300 percent mark up on a battery.)
Well, that’s good news anyway.

Manager: I need to order the engine, and once it’s in, we’ll need a few days. You
may be able to get the car by Wednesday.

Me: Actually, I’ll be able to get the car when I can get a ride to Hartford and not before.

Manager: I’ll call you when it’s ready.

Me: I’ll wait for that call.

THAT’S how a Mad As Hell Wonder Woman ends up Whistlin’ Dixie

And pay attention Girlies (and Nerdies too)…
It pays to let people (especially people ‘helping’ you) that you’ve done your homework.
It’s good to let them know that you know that they know that they are hiding/lying to you and you know it.

Got it?

Good 🙂

The Fickle Pickle

fick·le ˈfikəl/ adjective:

“changing frequently, especially as regards one’s loyalties, interests, or affection.”

I’m in a pickle ’cause I love slap and tickle but taken alone I hate a slap but love a tickle am I fickle?

No…not quite like that.

Here’s the thing…I was sitting on the porch this morning, as is usual, with my coffee and smokes, thinking…

“I love this” followed immediately by “I hate this”.

That thought alone, occupied my brain for the next 2 hours. Through my second cuppa, my third smoke, changing the sheets, checking my mail, taking my shower, love/hate, love/hate, love/hate…

Enough with the fickle pickle already!

So…to clear my head of this love/hate dialogue that was making my head spin, I thought I could put it down on paper and try to figure out if I am, in fact, ficklish. (That’s like being ticklish only not as much fun)

Or, am I just someone who can NOT make a damned decision and stick with it.

I found it was much easier said than done. Mostly because there are waaaaay too many; way, way, too many; did I say way to many?

However, not to be deterred, and despite the shear number…I’m giving it another go.

Only this time, I’m limiting myself to one fickle per letter of the alphabet. I don’t know yet if I’ll have one for every letter, just as I already know I will have to choose between more than one for some others.

But…if a letter is empty, then I’ve got nothing.

Yet!

I know…it’s a bit ridickle!

And I also know, limiting some of the letters to one thing is going to be near impossibickle!

But, I shall try. Because, my hope is, by the time I’m done, I can look at the list objectively and do one of two things:

Decide which side of the coin I’m on.
or
Embrace the pickle and be tickled that I’m fickle.

No…seriously. I need to do this.

I need to challenge myself to be more/do more/try more/embrace more…things that I love.
To a greater degree than not doing more/trying more/being more/embracing more…of the things I can change.

Because…the ‘hate side’ is…simply put…FEAR

Here goes ~ The Fickle Pickle of Love/Hate Relationships A to Z

Aging
I love that I’ve earned my stripes.
I hate that that they are on my body, so I undress in the dark.

Beaches
I love when the beach is empty and the waves are crashing.
I hate the bikini strewn, human oil slick, so I beach in winter.

Crowds
I love the excitement that creates a crowd.
I hate feeling alone in one, so I avoid them.

Dreams
I love hearing about dreams.
I hate having them, so I don’t (at least I don’t remember them).

Equality
I love the idea of it, in all things.
I hate that sometimes, I am part of the problem in remaining silent.

Flying
I love the journey,
I hate the hassle, so I don’t (very often).

Google
I love that you can have an answer in a flash.
I hate that it has replaced looking things up in the encyclopedia and the dictionary, but I’m guilty too.

Humidity
I love what it does for my skin.
I hate what it does to my hair, I’m a chia pet!

Immigration
I love that American means Everyonecan.
I hate that it has become counting pennies vs. counting kids, but that’s the reality we live in.

Jingles
I love knowing them, singing them, and recognizing the product by the tune.
I hate knowing them, singing them, and recognizing that I just might be a couch potato!

Kayaking
I love the idea of being ‘one with the water’, especially in the quiet, early morning mist, just as the sun rises.
I hate the spidery hidey hole where I can’t see my feet, so I don’t.

Love
I love love, being in love, being loved, giving love.
I hate what happens to me when love doesn’t feel safe.
I hate losing a single second to that most of all.
Shying away from love for fear of pain may be a form of self defense.
But it’s the worst offense against yourself there could ever be.

Motherhood
I love being a mother, for there is no love like it in the world.
I hate being a mother, at times, for there is no fear like it in the world.
(Though this, I would NEVER change)

Nakedness
I love the rare times I’ve allowed myself the freedom, wishing it always felt that way.
I hate the majority of my adult life has been spent trying to avoid it.

Obsession
I love the passion it takes to have one.
I hate the control I lose when I do, which is often.

Porches
I love being a porch dweller; morning coffee, afternoon wine, thunderstorms…
I hate being a porch dweller; going out to smoke, checking the spi-dar for spiders, being spied upon by the people driving or walking by, an oddi-tee in a nigh-tee!

Rainbows
I love the spontaneous way they pop up hither and thither and yon, alone or in pairs, nature at it’s best.
I hate the feeling of ‘somewhere’ I get when I see one.

Smoking
I love smoking
I hate everything about it, but here I am

Technology
I love how the human mind works, developing new technology to solve the world’s problems
I hate that technology has replaced some sadly lacking human qualities…like kindness, empathy, compassion, and common sense. Definitely one of those ‘double edged swords’

Vermont
I love Vermont, you know I do. I am as Green Mountain blooded as I am red blooded.
I hate Vermont, and I’ll leave it there.

Wine
I love what it does for me
I hate what it does to me.
Let’s face it, beer drinkers go deaf and shout and have their beer-bellies.
Wine drinkers go soft and fuzzy and have wine-wattles!

Xray
I love xray technology for finding broken bones and cancerous tumors.
I hate xray for finding things we cannot fix.
I do wonder if I’d rather not know if that’s the case.

Yoda
I love Yoda for his wisdom, manner, sense of humor, and common sense 🙂
I hate Yoda because to look at him reminds me that Superman is mortal 😦
As are we all…but still.

Zoos
I love the zoo for obvious reasons.
I hate the zoo for even more obvious reasons.

So…the challenge to me is to address the love/hates and see which are hurting me or preventing me from growing as a person. Granted, some will remain as they are…we can’t love everything, but nor can we hate everything…and we can certainly have a bit of both now and then.

As a shield…hate sucks.

As a tool…hate sucks.

As a rule…hate sucks.

As a reminder to do better…hate can work.

Challenge yourselves…and if anyone has a love/hate they’d like to share, I’d like to hear.

Moving Day II – The Nightmare before Christmas

Yes, this was the day

The day to end all days

The moving day from Hell

Yes…Broken
Yes…Displaced
Yes…To be reset on Tuesday
No…I don’t want to talk about it.
:doh:
Grrrrrrrrrr

Needless to say…the boxes are still boxed

Christmas shall come and Christmas shall go

There’s always next year

Where are the Elves when you REALLY need them?

😳