There’s a specialty store up in Cranberry, PA that I go to sometimes when I’m up there. It sells obscenely expensive clothing and toys you can’t usually find in Toys R Us. Now, I don’t dress up to shop. I don’t look like the perfectly made-up and styled housewife, though that’d be neat. I guess. But I’m not a complete dishelved misfit looking person either.

Anyway, twice now, I’ve been in there when the owner has been and twice he’s “jokingly” accused me of shoplifting. Or plotting to.

The first time, I had the kids and neither was in the stroller. He sarcastically remarked that I must be planning to bury stuff under their coats and abscond with his merchandise. I laughed it off, but it bugged the shit out of me.

Then just yesterday I bought a few items and on the way out I got waylayed by the sight of the cutest little girl’s stretch pants. I was looking at them marveling at the way the grossly overpriced pants could be so poorly made when the owner came up behind me.

“I see what you’re up to. You’re going to hide those in the bag. Very clever.”

I ignored the comment and mentioned the thinness of the pants noting that they wouldn’t be warm enough for winter.

Again, pissed off. I left shaking my head.

For over twenty-four hours I’ve been seething over this f’ing asshole. Two seconds after leaving I was thinking of all the things I should have said. All I could think about was Larry David. What he’d have said if this had happened to him.

Why does this piss me off so bad? I don’t know. Maybe buried deep in my soul is the desire to steal and he senses it, serving to awaken anger and irrational feelings of…I don’t even know what.

Then I read a piece in the paper this morning about four black women shopping in Shady Side (the ritzy side of Pittsburgh). They were stopped as they left a store, accused of stealing something. The clerk thought they, all four of them collectively, resembled a black woman who had apparently stolen a watch in the store a few days before. What the crap is this woman smoking?

A professor of mine who was on my dissertion committee–the most gentle, so quiet you have to lean in to hear him speak, black man–told me once about all the different times he had been stopped for allegedly doing things wrong. In essence he was stopped for being black.

My experience with the freaking asshole in Cranberry does not make me understand what these people who are black experience in so many disgusting ways, so often in their lives. But it makes me understand, how bad I’d be at handling it.

The bottom line is people are dicks. In so many different ways. And it bothers me in so many different ways.

Don’t watch them anymore.
Haven’t for over a decade.
But upstairs, the TV was on from morning and there on the screen was a bunch of soapy stars partying in that Christmas way that only soapy stars can do.
The lighting is warm and fuzzy.
All the beautiful people are in buttery cashmere.
And there’s the token drunk Character dressed like santa’s elf. And another like Santa himself.
I love it.
The way each of the ten parties each of the characters attend is more like a wedding than anything else.
It’s not enough to make me start watching them.
But it made me smile.

One of the radio stations here was asking people to call in and tell if they had ever received a Christmas bonus at work.
Like only a Pittsburgher could, some guy said, “Chrismas bonus. Yinz guys crazy in ‘at? Most yer gonna get in the burgh is a slap on the back and a canned ham in ‘at. Bonus, my ass.”
This too made me smile.

Unfortunately for me I’ve never worked in a field where bonuses are given. Education is not rife with incentives.

But, if my book sells by Christmas. That will be a hell of a bonus.
That is one of my favorite fantasies. The perfect Christmas gift.

How about you? What are you wishing for this season?

I’m in one and it makes me all antsy.

During the month of December, I abstain from writing.

I wander mentally and physically to whatever.

When I’m exercising instead of forcing myself to focus on the current story lines I’m spinning, I let my mind decide what it wants to think about. And by January, I’m ready to write again.

But I’m looking for something good to read. I’ve read all the chick-lit I can stand. I knew when I started writing that I most likely fit in that category so I made a point not to read any of it. I was afraid I’d import something that wasn’t “mine.”

Now that I’ve written three books in what would be considered that category (though hopefully assessed as deeper than the usual “looking for fabulous shoes and rich man themes”) I’m sure that anything that comes out of me, is mine.

To whatever extent that’s possible.

So, I’ve read Chick Lit by the dozens and I can’t find anymore I’m interested in.

I used to read thriller’s (murder/lawyer/courtroom drama’s) by the ton, but they don’t interest me the same way anymore.

Not sure why that is.

As a college student, I spent every free moment in the summer reading silly romance novels.

This past summer I read “The Bell Jar,” “The Great Gatsby”, and “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.”

I did finish “A Million Little Pieces” which left me conflicted about the Author’s theory on recovery. But I liked it.

I’ve been wandering around the bookstore for two weeks now, finding nothing that totally excites me. I did buy and am enjoying a Richard North Patterson book. But, really I need something folks.

Any suggestions on must read books? Classics or new?

And Jill (the write way home), don’t try to slip Count of Mont. in there…I know you hated it!

Beth and I saw my niece in the Nutcracker this weekend. It was wonderful, she was tremendous as a bon-bon. What a great Christmas tradition!

We also went to a breakfast with Santa where there was a little dance troupe putting on a play about toys that come to life. There’s a ballerina, cowboy, dancing dog, Elvis-type guy wearing a silky/funky/bizarre outfit and sings carols to Elvis tunes, and a rag doll. It was cute and all that. But apparently, our big, tall friend Tony who is often quiet, confided that he used to belong to a similar dance troupe.

We’re not buying it. But it’s the kind of thing that makes me smile everytime I think of it. That’s a good thing.

My friend Lisa told me recently that while we were in the checkout line after our six am post Thanksgiving shopping excursion, she felt saddened by the crazy purchasing of gifts when so many people have nothing. Her husband felt like that last year, but has since rationalized his way past that.

I didn’t feel that at the time. I often feel that in everyday situations, like working in the schools that I do. But no, when it comes to giving gifts and getting them, I love it. At this point in time, I like giving them more.

Before Jake and Beth were born, I ran a family literacy program in an old, depressed, mill-town where 98% of the kids are on free/reduced lunch, there are four stores in the once overflowing town, and the highschool graduates about 17 kids a year. The other twenty-three seniors don’t graduate. The other seventy or so seniors who should be there, are doing God knows what.

Anyway, Bill and I always did stuff for a few families. One family was close in particular. We never see them anymore. We talk sporadically, but we always give the mother money at the holidays for presents. I always felt good working so close with one family, doing a lot for the three boys–as far as giving actual time, not just money–but as we have been overtaken by life, we do less and less and giving money seems terribly offensive.

Not because they don’t need or want it. They aren’t offended and they know we love them and are curtailed by so many things. But, I can’t wait for the day when I can do more, again.

What is everyone else managing to do in your busy lives?

Lisa and I are putting ideas together for a charity that would be child/family centered, that our own kids could be involved in as they get older. We’re thinking this is three years down the road. We’re doing research now. Anyone know of anything special they’d like to share as we think about this?

….that’s my big question of the day. Coming from a family chock full of neat little neroses, I am never short on something to obsess about.

In comes this car in water thing. I learned about this when I took lifeguarding courses as a teenager, but I can’t for the life of me remember at what point you are supposed to put the window down to minimize the rush of water and escape.

I do recall the airbubble that will be there when you first go under and that’s supposed to buy you time to get window opened and escape without being overtaken by rushing water. But I can’t remember the sequence of actions you’re supposed to follow. Anyone?

You might wonder why the hell I’m wondering. Well, I might be the bearer of dozens of useless neroses, but they are usually heightened by real life events. It just so happens I must drive over the Allegheny River (Pittsburgh has the most bridges in the world) eighty percent of the time I go somewhere. And as I sit on the Hulton Bridge, waiting for the light to change, images of the bridge dropping and being thrust into the river, cloud my brain. Even for a short second or two.

So, anyone an old lifeguard with a better memory than me?

That’s right, a small miracle in the Shoop home. I actually wrapped presents, decided I bought too many for my Jake and returned some! This is not normal behavior for me.

Usually I rationalize how I could give him the extra gifts sometime during the year.

Why go through the trouble?

Because it was nothing he asked for and wouldn’t know the difference and the excess is disgusting.

Not that I’ve cut away the fat completely. Let’s not get crazy.

But I’m glad I did.

I think I can count on my fingers how many times I’ve returned things in my life.

My friend and I are thinking about a way to involve our kids in charity as they get older.

Some kind of way that kids do something for other kids.

To somehow balance out all the gifts we get and give.

So they understand how lucky we are.

Just to have been born to the families we were.

Well,
I’m channel surfing and I stumbled on Survivor. A show I loved until about four years ago. I always try to watch, but can’t. Even with all the Pittsburgher’s in it and even though they tend to win, a lot, I can’t do more than take a peek.

So, I did tonight and the girls are so freaking skinny that I can’t look at them for prolonged periods of time without cringing away. And that’s saying a lot. You have to be practically invisible to make me think you’re too skinny, yet they looked pained–collarbones protruding through their skin. That gets me more than anything.

Anyway, I’m reading “A Million Little Pieces” by James Frey and I like it. It’s sparse and written without quotation marks and other conventions of dialogue, but its good. I don’t know if he just writes that way or if he had to craft it that way, but I can’t imagine doing it. I can learn a few things about not overwriting, though, that’s for sure.

Anyway, its his memoir about his downward spiral into drugs and six weeks of rehab. Its fascinating, the grittiness of it, his complete absence of will to live…and at the part I’m at, his slow return to the living.

It was an Oprah book, which normally would make me steer clear because I don’t need any reasons to be depressed, but I read something that said it was hopeful…so far…not so hopeful…but compelling for sure.

I’m watching the OC right now. Makes me totally yearn for the days of 90210. God, those guys were innocent.

Thanks so much for wondering where I was! I did finish Nanowrimo with a few days to spare and with the holidays and shopping, I got really far behind with blogging. I didn’t even surf around, feeling as though that would be unacceptable if I wasn’t going to post myself…so I took a break.

And I’m back.

With not much great to say.

So, I’m starting with a little senseless pop culture.

Nick and Jess.

I guess they’ve thrown in the towel.

But who’s to say. REally. Until the ink is dry.

Who is to say.

Operating as though they have indeed severed their marital ties, my husband and I decided we needed a list of three guys we would bet she’d date next.

Number one on his list is Johnny Knoxville of Jackass fame. He was also in Dukes of Hazzard with Jess and rumors abound about the two of them.

I for one don’t think he’d leave his wife and family for her.

But I always think that right before the guy falls all over himself to prove me wrong.

Anyway. I’m hoping very much that she does not go anywhere near the route Brittney Spears blazed with Kevin Federline.

Jess has got to go upward. Maybe an older man. A really older man, not just a couple years like Nick.

I’m thinking something along the lines of Owen Wilson. He’s first on my list.

Who’s on yours?

This fall reminds me so much of when Jake was born four years ago. That year, the weather was balmy until December 1. So far, this one has been very similar though it seems as though the warmth is leaving a little faster this year.

Still.

This fall has been awesome. And there’s nothing realizing the very last fall day is upon me.

That day was last week.

Loved it.

If it stayed sixty degrees year around I’d be in heaven. But nowadays, I love the cold and think less fondly of the warm weather months.

So for now, I’m happy with the chilly weather and shorter days. For now.

She’d like to be more like Martha Stewart, but thinks she comes out more on the side of Lucille Ball.

Well, that just happens to be the way the authors of Frantic Woman’s Guide to Life characterize their book.

And though we’re going to start from the beginning of the book in January, I am trying to bring you bits and pieces of it until we ring in the new year. Because I’m so busy, as everyone in the world is, I was only able to cull a couple of tidbits from the November and Getting Started sections of Judy’s and Mary Jo’s book.

Christmas Luminaries–Judy and Mary Jo garnered this suggestion from someone whom I can’t remember and I can’t find my book, right now to credit her…but it’s in there if you need to find it…Anyway, instead of using paper bags, candles and sand you can purchase ball jars, put cranberries in the bottom of them to secure the candles and light them up.

I love that idea and it sounds so much safer than bags with fire inside them…prettier too. Let me know if you try it.

The other suggestion I thought was great and will use is this: clementine crates…buy them and put little odds and ends in them. Because they’re stackable, they’re particulary useful and easy to employ as a clutter catchall.

That’s it for this month…no disrespect to Judy and Mary Jo…this is just all I can manage this month. January is my start date to really use the book to alter my organizational life. Anyone up for joining me?