Supermarket Make-Over

In a TV world where we are bombarded with reality shows I think that I have finally hit on an original idea:“Supermarket Make-over”.

I know that there is a segment on Entertainment where the fashion police are out stalking unsuspecting, inappropriately dressed people. This is both embarrassing (for those chosen) and pretty good entertainment.
My show (starring yours truly, of course) would be set in a store like Wegmans or Price Chopper where hurried shoppers would be stopped in the dairy section or at the $6.00 meal bar and given the opportunity for a quick, in-store makeover.
I came on this idea today as I was roaming the “natural” foods section in Wegmans, pondering my purpose in the world and wondering why jars that have only 2 ingredients are 5X more expensive than those that have a list looking like a NASA formula for space shuttle fuel. Shoppers of all shapes, sizes, and dress codes were walking by me and I noticed a particularly attractive young woman with long hair pulled up in a bun, no makeup, with a look of utter dismay on her face. Basically, she looked unhappy; probably in a hurry to shop, or thinking about the long term, unsatisfying relationship she has been in for the last decade. Suddenly, a light bulb went off, and I thought, “What a boost to her day if I could give her a 10- minute facial and makeover, right here between the rice cakes and gluten free pizza.
Yes, she might actually go out of here with a spring in her step, some cool colored lip gloss, and the resolve to dump the creepy boyfriend and start a new life. I know I am getting ahead of myself but I know how much better I feel when I finally DO put make up on in the late morning and do not have to look at the new constellation of age spots that has appeared overnight.

I imagine that I could attract quite an audience for this show, particularly if I used only “products” from the food section I was in. Natural foods would be easy, or even dairy (with a yogurt or egg white facial). But how about a show devoted to “Frozen Make-over’s”? A cold bag of peas can do wonders for those dark circles or tell tale baggy eyes. But what about ice cream, frozen hash browns (look at the ingredient list sometime – big time NASA competition) or even stuffed Stromboli? Yes, I would have to get up pretty early in the morning to think up a beauty use for frozen dough, cheese and tomato sauce, but I am confident that sponsors would clamber at my dressing room door to help me find ideas to apply their multi-ingredient products. Entire new markets would open up creating original careers for unemployed library workers: nutritionist/ electrolysis technician/hair stylist. And yes, devoted readers, I would have my own satellite magazine that would put “Celebrity Hair Do” on the B list.

Of course I would have a guest artist on each show: Someone like retiring manager Lynne Y. who knows how to put the "Y" in STYLE. I can credit any color coordinated outfits I own to Lynne’s fashion sense. She is a shopping force to be reckoned with and can browse an entire rack of clothes and choose the perfect green for me while I am still wandering in men’s accessories. Just imagine what she could do in the Oriental Wok bar?
Wait!! Hold the presses (I have always wanted to say that). As I am writing this I came up with a brilliant idea for the Stromboli: a Stromboli French twist with the frozen dough used as the base to plump up and twist long hair – actually an “Italian twist”. Of course this is not a long-lasting hairdo but think about the advantage to this on a hot summer day (like today). I have a feeling if Little Miss Unhappy from the natural foods section had a cool Stromboli hanging down her neck, she would have incentive to go home and kick some you know what with the bad boyfriend.

Maybe all of this is just a pipe dream, or my dream of celebrity, or even a result of my new pharmaceutically lowered blood pressure?
Anyway, Stay tuned and the next time you see ME I might be making over YOU!!

Hair Wars

I have been at war with my hair now for several years. This is not something that I talk about much except with my high school friend who lives in Portland Maine. We have been comparing notes through email and in person over the years on all kinds of personal subjects. “Hair” is just one of our favorite topics that can make us laugh or cry depending on the day.

We both had BIG hair in high school and looking back at yearbook pictures, we must have added several inches to our short stature with the big hair. The early years after High School were kind to both of us: happy marriages, great kids, healthy parents and good hair! Later, things were not so good.
Menopause hit and I noticed the part in my hair getting wider. I would check in the mirror to make sure that my “comb over” was in place covering up the vortex that was forming in the back of my head; I talked to my doctor, my gynecologist, and my hairdresser. They did not have much to offer. My doctor is a member of the “Hair Club” for men. He told me that this is a club that NO one wants to join but they have made him look 10 years younger with a hair “weave”. My gynecologist is from India, has the thickest, darkest hair imaginable and did not consider MY hair to be a problem. She also told me that arranged marriages were “fine” as “one man is as good as the next”- sort of like shoes: if they don’t fit, just go up a half a size.
My hairdresser assured me that I was not losing my hair. It was just the "normal aging process" and my hair was becoming “a little finer in texture”. I started spending inordinate amounts of money on hair care products to bulk it up: volumizing shampoos, root boosters, follicle enhancers, spray gels and hair spray. I could not fund my 401K in 2006 due to excessive hair product purchases! I read somewhere that “highlights” add texture and body to fine hair so: more color, more products, and more money!

All of this is the name of vanity and sometimes I ask myself, “Is it worth it?”

My friend has said that this was just another secret that our mothers kept from us. She wrote: “remember, how we used to think our mothers had bad hair days? They really just had bad hair!” That is why they roamed around Eastwood with pink curlers under a scarf, until the last minute when they would pull them out to go to work or out to dinner.
I remember my mother wearing something called a “wiglet” to my wedding. She had a hairdresser, Connie, who was legendary in the city for making a silk purse out of very little hair. Customers would go in with flat hair and come out looking like Dolly Parton. Our mothers did not wash their hair every day. They would have it “set” and used stuff like “dippity-do” to give it that cemented texture. It lasted for days – nothing could deflate it until they returned to Connie for another session. They looked good and were thrifty to boot: they saved on hair products and on water. They also did not have to deal with their hair every day.

I’ve read in “Celebrity Hair Do” that most of the people we see on TV and in magazines use some type of hair extensions. This is real hair that is clipped, fused or glued in place under your own skimpy locks. Entertainers pay big bucks to have this done and my daughter will not buy fashion magazines because she believes the photos are detrimental to young girls and women who are given an unrealistic view of beauty and body size by the publishers and photographers.
OKAY! But I still love to look at pictures of people with good hair, fake or otherwise.

My friend in Maine recently had two weddings in her family. She sent along pictures from both weddings and she looked fabulous! I emailed her immediately, ignoring her wonderful family, handsome sons, and adorable grandchildren in the photos. I wrote: “Coleen! I love your hair. You look fantastic and YOUNG! Were you wearing a wiglet? Has Connie been reincarnated?”
She answered back, “Good hair day, no wind, lots of mousse and tons of hair spray”.
And so the battle goes on….

It’s Over!

I have read many, many books on ways to “simplify Christmas”. Most of these books have been read during the eleventh hour of holiday preparation when I am getting ready to make a midnight run to Best Buy or still baking cookies on Christmas Eve in my stretchy yoga pants.

I honestly thought that this year would be different. I envisioned a (non-working) Christmas with me in a stylish holiday caftan entertaining family and friends in an unrushed atmosphere of holiday serenity. Soon after I finished working at NOPL, I had made a “task list” that included all of my holiday duties – the tree to decorate, gifts to purchase and wrap, cards to address, food to buy and prepare, cookies to bake, parties to attend, and “extra” activities that I had always wanted to experience (like snowshoeing at Beaver Lake and a candlelit dinner in Armory Square and a walk to see the big City tree).

Time without work seemed to stretch before me like the Pacific Ocean at Coranado del mar. The calendar was no longer a captor holding me hostage until December 25th. I was FREE and Christmas would be well organized, well planned and enjoyed with little or no stress. After all, wasn’t work the problem? Hadn’t work taken me away from my holiday duties all of those Christmases past??
I am not a person to make excuses. I usually own up to my own inadequacies and I can only say that it is hard to teach an old elf new tricks.

Yes, time was like the ocean but I was still sitting on the beach drinking month old pumpkin Bailey’s as the clock was ticking. Days and, actually weeks went by and I had not purchased a gift or put up a light. Normal, everyday life intruded: trash day, mending, and meeting friends for lunch. I watched 3 of my favorite old movies one snowy afternoon. On a “power shopping day” I spent 2 hours in Barnes and Noble playing with The Nook, drinking peppermint mocha and browsing through self help books without purchasing a gift. I spent an afternoon in Macy’s and bought myself a new long winter coat and my son one pair of socks. Mornings I would go for a walk, make a pot of tea and digest recipes from the Barefoot Contessa cookbooks. I had perfected homemade buttermilk salad dressing yet had not baked one cookie.

Of course, ready or not, Christmas must happen and women are the masters of pulling it all together. I have thought that if Christmas were up to men, it would be beer and cheese balls and cards that said “Only 23 days till Superbowl Sunday”. But I have always worked well under pressure, and in a comforting, traditional way, it seemed like my new (non-working) Christmas was Christmas as usual: me rushing around, me with a cold, me with an eye infection, a last minute trip to the doctor and, of course, me better for Christmas just in time to enjoy the day with family and good friends to help celebrate in the most wonderful way.

So this year I will forgo the stylish caftan for my new Fargo hat and scarf (thanks Davey) that will keep me extra warm on my early morning walks.
Anyway, it’s over!!

Day 2: filling in the cracks

Day 2
Progress.

I awoke to gunshots today. This is not the same as waking up to an alarm clock.
My house is adjacent to Cicero Swamp and my neighbor was back there shooting squirrels who dare to cross the Target/ Dunkin border and I feel like I am in the Wild ,Wild West.
I thought about being one of those squirrels. Ousted from their cozy home when Target moved in, and pushed back even further with construction of a Verizon store. If it were not for bad luck those squirrels would have no luck at all and they can’t even text!
Yes, I am feeling pretty lucky today.

Progress comes in many forms and having low expectations is key. I am up and dressed. I am washing the Bailey’s stain out of my bathroom and taking control of my life’s goals.
I have been thinking about the 5 things that I loved to do as a child (as KittyKatMartini suggested in her book): dancing, sewing doll clothes, doing a Lily Tomlin impression (remember Ernestine and her phone operator routine?), hanging out with my grandmother and writing plays for the dolls to perform (although they were not very good at remembering their lines).

I am not sure if any of that translates to a life purpose but I’m working on it.

I can see that things like “trash day” will take on a bigger significance now. What was once an interruption to my “getting ready for work” day has now become a legitimate activity.
It is the same with the mail delivery. People hang out in their driveway, waiting for their copy of “Celebrity Hairstyle” (thank you Lynne), then call across to their neighbor who is also waiting. Most likely a conversation will start up about the candidates (or the squirrels- they are interchangeable at this point except for the texting) and before you know it, it is time for Oprah.
Oh! I’m running late (for what I don’t know but I have not said that in a while).
My bathrobe should be almost dry and all is right with the world. I guess that IS progress.

Cracking Up: Day One

Oh YEAH! No more work for awhile. I am on self imposed sabbatical – finding myself or finding new things to do.
I have been reading books under the cloak of darkness that are approved by AARP. Even though I am chronologically old enough for “all of this” I have not yet come to terms with it fully.
All of the books say that when you are” home” (meaning not working) you must set a structured schedule for yourself or you will find yourself drinking pumpkin “Bailey’s" in the morning (thank you NJB) and watching Tim McGraw snippets on the internet.

I have always admired my neighbor who left her job with the phone company years ago. She is up and dressed with full make up raking leaves at 8:15 A.M. She looks perky and the smell of a delicious crock pot meal is wafting from her kitchen (organized retired people have already shopped and KNOW what they are having for dinner as the day begins). Probably many of their meals are planned and actually originate in their own kitchen. As a working single person I have never worried much about dinner. I (had) a booth with my name on it at Nestico’s and when I enter “Panera” people call out my name like Norm on “Cheers”.

A great book on this very subject is, “Thank you for Firing Me!” by Kitty Martini. I am not sure if Kitty arrived at her last name before or after she was fired) but Kitty talks a lot about maintaining routines and structure as you are looking for meaningful work or trying to find your bliss.
Kitty does not believe that going to the dentist or to Target constitutes a “day trip” on your schedule. You must find meaningful activities- things that will enhance your life goals. She talks about “avoiding rebound work” – just like rebound boyfriends (remember JOE?), as these things are good for a few laughs but will not stand the test of time.
Kitty does not encourage the unemployed to wallow in self pity or indulge in hard liquor to soften the blow. She is a demanding task master who suggests donating your designer suits to charity and rewashing plastic sandwich bags while making mental lists of the 5 things you most liked to do as a child (as a means of uncovering your true life’s calling). She also suggests making your bed as soon as you crawl out of it so as not to drift back in there during daylight hours.

Luckily I will have to return Kitty’s book to the library soon. Since I no longer get special dispensation for fines, I will join the huddled masses of library patrons who actually have to bring their books back on time. No more 8 -12 week loan periods for me! My staff/trustee status went out the window with my last bite of cannoli cake.
All of this is making me incredibly tired (too bad it’s still daylight) and I am doubly confused about my true life’s calling. I only wish I had a leftover piece of the cannoli cake (it goes so well with the Bailey’s) that I could eat for my dinner tonight as it is getting too late for the Crockpot.

Oh YEAH! Day One and counting…

The sidewalk ends

Library Thing -

I know I will use this site long after the 23things. What a great place to end up with limitless cracks for all of my favorite books and a place to write about them. I left a review for "Story of a Girl", a powerful YA book that I finished this summer and still think about sometimes. I had thought about buying a copy of this book and leaving it up by the high school or on a park bench, hoping someone would pick it up.

Sound crazy? I have done things like this before and like to imagine that the book ends up with a person who needs just that particular book at exactly this time.

Who knows? Stranger things have happened...

I will miss the 23things and cannot thank Elaine and Nancy enough for all of the hard work they put into this. I have learned a lot and am so proud of myself. I am still on facebook, posting and editing pictures with ease, IM-ing our former page at college, using my multiple google accounts, keeping track of Tim on my RSS feeds, making Snapfish books, waiting for the next AnnK podcast and generally feeling a part of the world.

Namaste!

The google doc is in

I come from a large Italian family.

Most of my older aunts and uncles do not own computers.
If they do, they are most proficient at sending out annoying "forwards": jokes, recipes for sauce, offensive political stuff, or "mistake" email that is suppose to go to someone else who has an email address close to my own.

Most of the nieces and nephews judiciously guard their own email addresses and cell phone numbers from the aunts and uncles. This is for self preservation only and to avoid the dreaded daily "forwards" that appear in our inbox.
Working in the library, close to relatives, I am not always so lucky. I was recently recruited because "hey, you work in a library that's close to the causeway and you know the computer" to write a tribute page for my Uncle's North High Reunion handbook. The "rough copy" was handwritten on legal paper with enough text (and long Italian surnames) to fill a whole book, not just a page. When I tried to explain to my uncle about font size, white space and correct editing, he was unimpressed.

There were also pictures to scan and include, from old yellowed newspaper clippings and clip art of the Marine insignia.
After struggling with these pictures and the text for an entire evening I enlisted the help of my daughter who reasoned, "I can easily reduce and photoshop the clipping as long as you don't give your uncle my email".
My uncle "loved" what we had done with the pictures and the ultimate final product went through numerous edits and "additions" of text. Every time I would show him the "final copy", he would think of another person to add or something else to mention until every inch of the 1/2 sheet was covered.

The neat thing was that my daughter and I were able to use google docs to create the original, edit the text, add more names, correct the spellings (this was tough) and otherwise work together but separately on the same document.

In appreciation for my daughter's hard work I have kept her email address a secret from the relatives and from the Barzini family.