I wish I were more surprised

After reading the stories about her lawsuit against her former employer I'm a little upset with Lynne Woodison and her lawyer.

First, this quote: ""It is like that all the time, and it's difficult to stand up for it constantly and say, 'Please, that's uncomfortable for me. Don't do that,'" said Woodison.

It WAS like that all the time, and it WAS difficult.....blah blah blah. Past tense. You're no longer working there. Which makes me wonder, why didn't she file a lawsuit when she DID work there (from 2000-2008)?

Then there's this quote from her lawyer: "...her complaining ultimately resulted in her being fired," Gordon said.

Wait. Didn't they BOTH get fired? Why, yes, they did. I wonder what HE was complaining about? Was he complaining about all her complaining?

AND, if it was really so terrible working with him for all those years, she must have been really relieved to finally have the horror over with, right? Then WHY did she work with him again for a week this past summer on WOMC? And why is she suing the company and not him?

For some reason, radio is still a tough business for women to succeed in (A former agent told me "Women will listen to men but men won't listen to women" and doesn't every woman experience this in her house on a daily basis? "Really, you told me there was a meeting at the school tonight?") and if Ms. Woodison has indeed been sexually harassed then I am all for her getting everything that she deserves, but this just looks like someone who has realized she's never going to find another job and is going for the money and THAT is going to make it more difficult (rightly or wrongly) for all the other women who are trying to break into radio in this town because now the guys in charge have one more reason to be scared of hiring them.

I'm not trying to choose sides; but I've been there. When I was starting out in my little radio career a male co-worker said to me (while I was eating a banana): "There's no ladylike way to eat a banana." He said plenty of other mean, suggestive, and otherwise inappropriate things too and while I was forced to work with him I certainly didn't socialize with him and I didn't work with him again by choice after he left.

And I never once met him for coffee.

Raising a pessimist

I readily acknowledge that I am ridiculously optimistic. Sure, I have my moments of doubt and I'm an Olympic-level Second Guesser but, generally, I believe that people are good and the world is meant to be a happy place.

I married a man with an incredible moral code but no belief system. He is a true Atheist. I, being the Optimist I am, believe there's room for everyone - believers, atheists, doubters, etc. Actually, he does have a believe system, but his belief is what he can see is all there is. I'm more inclined to believe in powers beyond what we can explain, or know we have, or what we can even understand.

Which brings me to my daughter - who is like me in SO many ways but so like her father in so many others....including her beliefs. So, last week, when she lost her iTouch in the school parking lot all our beliefs came crashing into each other. She believes it's over - that she will never get it back and I say if that's what you believe then THAT is what will happen. I believe in a world where someone who takes something (especially something expensive) that doesn't belong to them just can't live with himself and eventually does the right thing and turns it in.

"But I go to school with a lot of idiots," she says. And she does. And maybe one of those idiots found her iPod. But maybe that idiot has a friend with a conscience who is pushing her to turn my daughter's iPod into the office.

My daughter believes that if she never expects anything then she can never be let down. I believe that if you never hope for things you can never help them happen.

I'm so sad that my daughter lost her iPod, which she loved. I'm even sadder that she already believes she will never see it again.

Corruption begins at the bottom

Today my son is running for President of his 3rd grade class. I'm not sure what honors being Mother of the 3rd Grade Class President will bestow upon me (should he win), but I will gladly accept all responsibilities and ribbon-cutting opportunities made available.

This morning, as he was copying the key points of his speech onto note cards ("I will help get the class get more pennies." Pennies being the form of currency the teacher uses to let the kids earn class parties) he said "Oh, mom, when Brian* was running for President last time he brought in suckers that said Vote for Brian* on them! Can I bring in suckers?"

Really? Is this necessary? The "term" of Class President is only eight weeks and yet this mother felt it was necessary to take the time and effort to create and afix stickers that say Vote for Brian* to 20 sucker sticks for her kid to bribe the class so they would elect him? I think it's a great thing that 3rd graders are learning about the Democratic process but Brian's mother is introducing a whole new level of politics that kids really shouldn't become familiar with until at least high school ("Why are you voting for Dan for Junior Class President?" "Dude, he throws, like, the best parties.")

Though maybe these kids are smarter than I think; Brian* did NOT get elected.


*Name has been changed to protect the innocent boy and his not-so-innocent mother

Wanna make some clothes and some money?

Dear Clothing Designers, Manufacturers, and Sellers,

I am here to tell you how to double your sales and decrease your costs.

Fire the extra tall, boy-hipped, surgically enhanced models. Yes, your clothes look great on them. Everyone’s clothes, from Gautier to Wal-Mart, look great on them. You’re not saying anything new. Hire some real women to model your clothes. I know what you’re thinking “But you buy our clothes because they look so good on the model that you think they will make you look good too.” You’re half right. I used to buy your clothes for that reason, but I have a learning curve and I have finally made it over the bell or out of the dip or whatever you’d like to call it. I have finally realized that I will never be 5’10” (or sadly, even 5’5”), I will never – barring serious illness – weigh 110 lbs, and I will never look as good in your clothes as the models.

I am also armed with something besides knowledge. I have money. I have money to spend on clothes that flatter my figure. I know there are clothes out there that flatter the average figure; I’ve stumbled on a few pieces while on extensive shopping expeditions. But you could make it easier for me to spend my money if you simply show me your clothes on a variety of figures. I will immediately be able to see which items will look better on me and I can give you my money much, much faster. It’s win-win.

Perhaps you should visit with some shoe designers; they seem to have already figured this out. Sure there are a few styles that only look good (but probably aren’t comfortable) on long, narrow feet, but most designers are making all kinds of cute shoes in size 9 and 10 and C and D widths. Those of us with a wider foot and second toe that is longer than the big toe (you know that’s a sign of intelligence, right?) know exactly who these designers are and our closets are filled to bursting with their shoes, boots and sandals.

A special note to lingerie designers: my husband also has a learning curve. He has finally realized that no matter what he buys, the minute I put it on he and I both realize – but definitely do not say out loud - that it doesn’t look nearly as sexy on me as it did on the mannequin. It probably looked sexier on the hanger than it does on me. Show lingerie on real women with poochy tummies, cellulite, and back fat. Imagine the loyalty you will create when I try on a gift from my husband and we both see that it is MORE flattering on me than on the model. You’d have to pay us to stay out of your store!

Perhaps that is what you would like to do – keep me out of your store. You work hard on your clothes and maybe you just don’t want to see them on less than perfect figures. That is certainly your prerogative, and there seem to be women who are willing to starve and carve their bodies to look good in whatever you design. I have a feeling, though, that even they have a learning curve.

Fondly,

Stacey

For Lisa, with thanks

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the first 90 seconds of a conversation on a cell phone with a woman over the age of 65 will consist of the woman telling you A) how she didn't hear the phone ring at first, B) how she eventually did hear the phone ringing but could not locate it, then C) the odd place she finally found the cell phone.

How to get an extra dessert

A conversation between me, my husband, and my son about a job interview I had this morning:


Husband: So, how did it go?

Me: I thought it went fine, but I might not be what they're looking for.

Husband: Of course you're what they're looking for!

Son: Yeah, mom, you look pretty.

Me: Thank you. Let's hope they're looking for someone who looks pretty.

Son: You're lucky they're not looking for someone who looks stupid!

The driveway

You may recall that I scared away the driveway resealers last month. They came out and did the resurfacing about a week and half ago and I have noticed that there were some rather big, unsealed splotches all over the driveway but I was not about to say anything because I'm already the Crazy Lady who slammed the door in their faces the first time they showed up.

But a few days ago my husband came home and said that the driveway resurfacing company had called him because our neighbor - who is about 110, lives alone, and was convinced her house was going to cave in on her because she found a crack in the pavement of her garage - had also had her driveway resurfaced on the same day by the same company and was not happy with her results. They informed her that the day long rain right after the resurfacing was to blame but that they would come out reseal the deal (so to speak.) She THEN informed them that they would probably be hearing from her neighbors (Us!) because our driveway looks like crap, too. How about that?! She's sitting over there looking for cracks in the concrete and JUDGING our driveway!

So they're supposed to show up yesterday and the finally do show up yesterday but it's early evening and I'm working on homework with The Boy and getting ready to host a meeting in my house and when they show up I just say "Yeah, yeah, great, whatever" and don't realize until about an hour later that my car is in the garage.

Trapped.

In the garage.

I waited as long as I possibly could before I had to leave this morning but there is a tell-tale tire track down the driveway from the garage.

Still. It's not splotchy.