Monday, March 9, 2015

The Cat and the Fire Department

This morning on Liar Liar I partially told the story of the time I called the Fire Department to rescue my cat off the top of an apartment building.  First, I would like to state that I have nothing but respect for Firemen everywhere. Here's the rest of the story I didn't have time to tell.

We lived across the street from an apartment complex and all the kids there LOVED my cat.  He roamed around the neighborhood freely but at least twice a week some cranky mom would pull into my driveway with a car full of kids; one of them holding my "lost" cat.  They were so proud of themselves so I never bothered to tell them that he always made it home.  (Until he didn't, but that's another story).

One day some kids ran over to tell me that my cat was stuck on top of one of the apartment buildings and he was crying.  I still don't know how he got up there, though there was a very large tree next to the building and Barney WAS quite the daredevil.  I called the Fire Department, who gave me the run around for a while but eventually agree to come rescue him.  

It was right after school, so a group of kids gathered around as the firemen set up a ladder and climbed to the top of the building.  My cat ran to the other side of the roof.  The fireman came down and said "Even if I catch him I can't carry him down the ladder."  Without a word an eight-year old girl opened her backpack, dumped the contents on the ground, then handed the empty bag to the fireman who reluctantly went back up the ladder, chased down my evasive cat and stuffed him into the backpack.

He climbed down the ladder and handed the backpack to me.  I pulled Barney out and noticed that he had something stuck in his paw.  I showed it to the fireman and said "I think he couldn't come down because of this."  When I got home I realized he didn't have something stuck IN his paw, he had one of those sticky things from a cotton weed tree stuck TO his paw.  Still, it helped me save face a little.  

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

New Michigan Business

Hello Michigan Businesses!

Do you have a product that you'd like to get in the hands of new customers?  Are you as addicted to Subscription Boxes as I am?  I'm combining Michigan and Subscription Boxes in a new venture so -- let's chat!  I am SO excited!

Send me a note at sduford@aol.com!

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Cindy Crawford and Leeza Gibbons

A lot of women are talking about this picture

I think it's less about what Cindy Crawford really looks like and more about how anyone can take an unflattering photo.  Apparently the shot is from a December 2013 photo shoot so perhaps she hadn't quite recovered from an over-enthusiastic Thanksgiving.  And judging by the sunbathing pic that her husband posted on Valentine's Day she doesn't really look like this. And she wants us to know it.

Still, I have to admit that it's nice to see an unretouched photo and one that shows that Supermodels, while being super, are still just women who age like the rest of us.

I actually wish that she would address what she's doing to her face.  There have been several photos of her with that puffy-just-got-a-lot-of-filler look that is so disturbing and unnatural.  Every time I start to get tired of my aging face in the mirror and begin to think about doing something to combat the lines and wrinkles I'll come across a picture of a celebrity with "filler face" and that calms me right down. I don't want to be wrinkly but I don't want that stretched-skin-Joker-from-Batman-mouth look either.

Yes, I'm talking to you, Leeza Gibbons.



She was SO amazing all season on Celebrity Apprentice!  She was inspiring, effective, kind, and funny!  She was so passionate about her charity and her final project and presentation were fabulous.  Yet I couldn't get over her face - so tight and puffy and shiny that it looked painful. 

It's hard to be an aging woman in today's world.  It must be extra hard to be a woman aging on TV.  I know the pressure; I feel the pressure.  But I found it hard to concentrate on the great work that Leeza and her charity are doing when the words are coming out of a near-Joker-mouth.  

It's too bad we can't all be like Frances McDormand.  Granted we don't all have her genes, but I like her attitude.  It's what I shoot for every time I look in the mirror.


Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Sore Muscles, Sore Foot - Will Paczki's Soothe My Pain?

Happy Paczki Day!

Today I am distracted by my sore muscles and sore foot.  I'll start with the muscles.  I have been working out once a week at RPM in Birmingham, my daughter and I worked out there together while she was home for the summer (it was a great bonding experience, I highly recommend it) and I kept it up after she left.  I swing kettle bells, do ball slams, and am working towards being able to dead lift 150 lbs. (Check out this article on the benefits of doing dead lifts).  My trainer, Jaclyn, got hit by the flu last week and I didn't have time to get in so I - foolishly - asked if I could work out with her Monday AND Tuesday this week.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?

My arms and back are SO sore today I can barely open the door to the studio (it IS a really heavy door). I don't know how I'm going to live through another hour today. This could be my farewell blog post.  If so, thanks for everything.

Now for the foot.  I've had plantar fasciitis since June.  I've tried stretching, cold/heat, injections, etc.  I finally decided to get smart and am now visiting Blast Pain in Troy.  It no longer feels like I'm walking on needles, but some days feel better than others.  I'm not resting it like I should either (obviously).  I have finally stopped running. So that means any day now I'm going to have to stop eating.  It's going to be Fat Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday for me.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Bravo, Stop Trying To Sell Me Trash

I don't remember when I jumped on the Real Housewives train. And I guess it doesn't matter.  I'm not proud but I'm riding it.  I can give or take those crazy women from Atlanta and New Jersey but can't help but Hate Watch those dames from Beverly Hills.  Even though NONE of them are technically housewives.

I have no trouble watching them fake fight, pretend parent, or have faux "intimate" moments (though I REALLY don't need to see those, Bravo) but when you start using those women to sell me stuff - like I take them seriously - well, that's when I start to get offended.

Those ridiculous car ads with Kyle and her husband? I drove a Jeep Cherokee for 10 years - and LOVED it - but will never buy one again.  Sorry, Jeep.  And I had no plans to see 50 Shades of Grey but if I did, seeing Kyle and Lisa (and I like Lisa!) sitting on the couch talking about seeing it as a girl's night made me want to gag.  And not the kind of gag like from the movie.

Listen, Bravo, I will watch your trash, but I'm not going to pretend that it's anything but trash.  I'm not going to pretend that these women have anything to tell me about parenting, or shopping, or party-throwing, or flower arranging.  And I'm certainly not going to let them influence what I buy.  I watch them because they are ridiculous.  Let them sell their overpriced crap to each other, but leave me out of it.

Friday, February 6, 2015

Why Are All My Pants Chastity Pants?

This has been bugging me for years.  Especially when I find myself running to a restroom in a ... ahem ... hurry.  Why are all my pants built like Fort Knox?  The pair I'm wearing today have a double hook and eye


a zipper


and a button.


Add a belt and my pants are like the multiple locking system on the door of a New York apartment. NO ONE is breaking in!

Is this really necessary? Are men's pants made like this?  Why all the security? Really, my hips can keep a pair of pants from falling off me without much help.  If I need to make a quick change I am out of luck in this outfit.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

James Robertson and the Internet

One of the great things about the Internet is that a story like James Robertson's - the guy who walked 21 miles each day as part of his commute to work and kept a perfect attendance record - can get to people around the world and give anyone who wants to help a way to do so.  The bad thing about the Internet is that judgy people also have a forum for their opinions. I am shocked by the people I have seen that are calling James "stupid" for not "finding a better paying job closer to his house."  Really?  When you are working and commuting for 20 hours each day there is no TIME to look for a job.  When you are making just over $10 an hour and barely getting by all you can do is do whatever you can to get by.

How about instead of criticizing James' supposed lack of ambition we choose to appreciate his work ethic and commitment to his employer?  How about we acknowledge the employer and coworkers who obviously make him feel valued?

My favorite part of the story - and the part that shows me how moving James' story really is - is the quote from the banker, Blake Pollock, who noticed James walking and started giving him occasional rides.  He said "I always say to my friends, I"m not a nice guy.  But I found myself helping James." 

Wouldn't we all like to meet someone who moves us to be a better person?  I know I would.  And I think Mr. Pollock is too hard on himself.  There were plenty of people who kept on driving when he stopped, who did nothing when he asked questions.  I think both of these men are role models.  And I'm so happy to see this story embraced and shared.  

I read a disturbing statistic over the weekend: children in low-income families (whose parents are working two or more jobs just to get by) enter pre-school or Kindergarten at a disadvantage because children from wealthier families hear 30 million more words throughout their early life and have bigger vocabularies.  It must be so daunting to be doing everything you can for your child only to hear that your children are still at a disadvantage.  

One of the worst feelings I know is feeling like you are stuck and can't change your situation.  It's nice to see that people are willing to help.