http://blogcritics.org/ A sinister cabal of superior bloggers on music, books, film, popular culture, politics, and technology - updated continuously. en Copyright 2005-2007 by the authors Fri, 27 May 2005 08:57:49 EDT http://backend.userland.com/rss Blogcritics.org custom software http://blogcritics.org/ Phillip WinnSunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding. Administration0@blogcritics.org Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/27/085749.php NicoletteIt was a common occurrence at the shelter: people turning in animals because their children were not caring for them. Most of the time the animals were in fairly good shape, but sometimes they were emaciated to the point where we would make sure to get all the surrenderer's information, in case it was a cruelty case. (Usually not since we went easy on people who turned in animals, as opposed to having them confiscated.) Often the animals were poorly socialized.Sometimes the parent would make the child tell us why the animal was being turned in. I suppose they did this as an object lesson -- to really pound the lesson home. Usually it came across as just plain cruel. These weren't my kids and yet their tear streaked little faces as they told me why they couldn't keep Bingo would break my heart.That's right...little faces. The kids ranged anywhere from 5 on up. How anybody expects someone who just learned the alphabet to have someone else life in their hands is beyond me. And how anyone can turn in an animal who is starving to death and say this was a child's fault -- well, it makes me understand the story of Noah's Ark. (Save the animals, but other than that...let's try this again!)They were punishing their kids for not being responsible, completely missing the irony of the fact that they -- the parents -- had foisted their own own responsibilities on their children and then on a non-profit organization. Where were these children supposed to learn responsible behavior in the clear absence of role models?Sometimes when going through the application process for adoption people would say that the pet was for their child. Most of the time, when asked if the children would be expected to be the sole caregivers, people would look at me like I was mad. (Thank God!) However, a lot of parents really expect children to take on the responsibilities of an adult.It goes without saying that, if an adult does not feed their young child, they will get into a lot of trouble. They can't say, "The kid is eight -- she can feed herself!" An eight year old needs to be parented. How can you expect a child -- who is not expected to care for herself -- to keep another creature alive.You teach a child responsibility by being responsible. A child learns to care for a pet by parents caring for the child and by seeing the adult care for the pet. At 5, the limit of what you should expect is having the child "help" by working the can opener or setting the dish before the pet. Even when a child really is old enough to feed the pets you remind them, and you ask if they did it, and you certainly notice your pet is getting thin.You don't wait until you have a fur covered skeleton in your backyard.***If you're thinking of adopting a cat or kitten this is a fabulous time of year to do it! Starting in late spring, and throughout the summer, the birth rate spikes and shelters begin the tragic task of making hard decisions when all the cages fill and the rescues can't take in anymore either.June is adopt a cat month! This means many shelters have special adoption rates!A lot of people like to wait until Christmas, but that's about the slowest time of year for cat birth rates. Now you can save multiple animals by adopting one -- the animal you adopted and the animal who can know go in that cage (and up for adoption!)Want to know what the shelters (and rescues) in your area have up for adoption? Try Petfinder! *** Since I'm on a roll (downhill): anyone with a growing puppy needs to check the collar occasionally for proper fit -- you should be able to comfortably fit two fingers underneath the collar.A too tight collar can become embedded -- actually grow INTO the neck. In fairly minor cases this can lead to sores and maggots. In severe cases it can sever the artery in the neck, causing death.Too loose however, can cause the dog to slip his collar during a walk or if lost...and there goes the id and the main way a good Samaritan can secure your pet! Culture30222@blogcritics.org Fri, 27 May 2005 08:57:49 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/26/100522.php NicoletteHey kid. You! Standing there was the other kids. Yeah, I know you're a teen -- maybe 16 or 17 --and don't think you're a kid, but go with it. You're wondering who this lame-assed woman is who's talking to you. The thing is: I know you are, but what am I? That is to say, I'm here to say to you: you're lame!Don't be insulted...I'm trying to save you time. You're standing here trying to impress your friends, talking loudly to make sure you're heard, trying to get off a few good jokes to make them laugh. Your friends are lame too.You had to suspect this, right? Your parents are lame...your friends tell you their parents are lame. (Even the ones that you secretly think are okay.) I know you slept through some of the classes concerning this...but you have heard of genes, right? That's right -- they passed on the lame gene to you.Your parents, like you, most likely tried to fight it for a while. Yeah, quite possibly they stood with their friends talking loudly and trying to crack a joke that goes over well. They were wearing really stupid clothes at the time...don't laugh: so are you. (Look at a picture of yourself in 10 years...you'll see.) One day, they just said, "Fuck it!" and decided to just stop worrying about it. Shortly afterward you decided to worry about it on their behalf.Or maybe your parents never denied what they were...maybe they sought out other uncloseted lame people. If so, you should be proud that your parents were out there on the front lines of the Lame Rights Movement.Remember when you were little? Yeah, you know where I'm going with this: you were beyond lame and didn't know it. You just did whatever was fun, had a good time with it, and didn't worry. Then you went to school and someone pointed out that your clothes were stupid, and your hair was stupid, and that -- quite possibly -- you're stupid, too. Crappy feeling, right? And you're still trying to prove you're okay. Give it up!Because on the day you were taught that you were not good enough, you started to lose your flavor. Sure, before that you had that high pitched scream that hurt everyone's ears, but the female of your species still does that sometimes anyhow...when her lame parents tell her "no." The point is you were much more refreshing when every time you saw a dog you did a happy dance and wanted to pet the puppy. You were -- ironically -- at your coolest when you didn't know you were lame,What I'm saying is: it doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to worry that you could be lame -- you are! And you don't have to worry that people will find out you're lame -- they will. Instead you can embrace it now, get it over with, and start discovering what you really like in life.You may now pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about, and when I walk away you can discuss how lame I am with your friends...maybe I'll try to explain to you tomorrow how time flies and youth is wasted on the young...otherwise I'll catch you in 10-15 years, sitting on a park bench, and watching your kids chase puppies. That is, unless they are denying they know your lame ass. Culture30166@blogcritics.org Thu, 26 May 2005 10:05:22 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/24/094609.php NicoletteI don't talk about politics that much 'cause no good would come of it. Either it would cause fights or I would have to debate some intolerant jackass who I'll picture flushed and with eyes bulging out...on the brink of a heart attack.I'm not saying the "other side" is filled with intolerant jackasses. No, all sides are filled with intolerant jackasses--that's why I know that no good will come of it. No matter what my opinion would be, someone would accuse me of being, um, something.It seems obvious that someone can disagree with me (or most anyone else) and have the best intentions in mind. I try to remember that. I hope that the person who disagrees with me also keeps that in mind, but more often that not these discussions become an effort to vilify the opposing viewpoint.If you look at the Terri Schiavo case, and believe all the screaming that was the result, you would think that there were two camps--those who wanted to murder her and those who wanted to prolong her suffering. Of course, the truth is that people on both sides for the most part came to their belief based on what they considered to be the best decision.All political parties are filled with people who chose their party based on what they felt was best. Sure, there are villains, opportunists, and people with severe chemical imbalances, but for the most part people choose their infiliations based on what they believe to be right.I took a quiz recently and I expected it to show me to be pretty liberal. What a surprise...I'm, for the most part, middle of the road. I'm actually rather conservative on crime and the only area where I skew really liberal is the environment. Every one of my beliefs is based on what I feel to be best. I can only guess that those people who want to rape the land feel they're right also. (Just checking to see if you're paying attention.)The truth is that I don't want to argue with someone who goes into it thinking I'm either idiotic or evil, but it sometimes seems like this is the only stance from which many people debate an issue.There is a (dated) song from the 80s which comes to mind:Russians Written by Sting [& Sergei Prokofiev!] In Europe and America there's a growing feeling of hysteria Conditioned to respond to all the threats In the rhetorical speeches of the Soviets Mister Krushchev said, 'We will bury you' I don't subscribe to this point of view It'd be such an ignorant thing to do If the Russians love their children too How can I save my little boy From Oppenheimer's deadly toy? There is no monopoly on common sense On either side of the political fence We share the same biology Regardless of ideology Believe me when I say to you I hope the Russians love their children too There is no historical precedent to put Words in the mouth of the president There's no such thing as a winnable war It's a lie we don't believe anymore Mister Reagan says 'We will protect you' I don't subscribe to this point of view Believe me when I say to you I hope the Russians love their children too We share the same biology Regardless of ideology What might save us, me and you Is if the Russians love their children too And is there a reason to believe the other side doesn't love there children too--other than the historical fact that it's always been easier to go for the throat if you don't have to look someone in the eye and see they are much like you?The reason why people have trouble with that is how called "hate speech" is because words that deny another person's humanity can start the process with ends in taking away their rights, their dignity, and even their very lives.For the record, I firmly support free speech, but I think we need to accept responsibility for the words we choose. Too often when political debates occur the words become unnecessarily ugly. They are words that, when calm, we'd never want to claim as our own. And that's why I rarely discuss politics.Religion? The same things apply...I'm just not aways smart enough to leave that one alone. Politics30059@blogcritics.org Tue, 24 May 2005 09:46:09 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/20/202650.php NicoletteThe first person to comment on my blog was someone going by Citricritic AKA Citrus. He...for I found out it was a he (maybe)... commented on my first post, a picture of one off my tattoos. He said it looked like Cave of Lascaux It was an intelligent comment, and since it appeared within 5 minutes of my blog's existence made me think traffic was going to be a cinch. I quickly became a fan of Citrus's blog...with its bright lemony colors and literate writing. I checked in daily to see if the posting would be absurd or serious...light or dark. I did notice that there was a notice that the blog contained fiction. So much of what he wrote seemed serious, but yeah, the notice said to take it all with a grain of salt. Several days ago Citrus posted that he had to leave the country for Canada... immediately and something about the Republicans being after him. He compared them to Nazis. He said some goodbyes, said we would never hear from him again, and that he andHugo (his lover) were making a break for freedom.Puzzling. My BS meter began to ring in the distance but at this point I was willing to accept that my "good" friend Citrus might just be paranoid. (Or even, it's not paranoia if people are really out to get you.)Well, it wasn't the last time we (the bloggers in his circle) heard from him. He began to leave messages around with codes where the owner was supposed to get it was him. And he began to post again to his blog. After the Republican message he'd stripped his archives and blogroll, but now the blogroll was back.The posts were about his desperate bid to leave the country (with 10,000) strapped to his body, his plan to marry a lesbian in Canada for citizenship, and his flight from airline security...We also began to hear from Hugo. Suddenly the plan was to go to Iceland... Then it got strange. ::grin::In our circle the people tended to fall into three camps...the Citrus is One Funny Mo'fo camp, the Getting it Was a Joke--but Really Pissed Camp, and the thinking it was a Scam-For-Money Camp.Well, Citrus has resurfaced semi-repentant. He gets that he hurt some people and claims he was just trying to have an interactive adventure with his readers. Most people are forgiving...not all. One of the items of concention is that someone noticed he has ALWAYS been in Canada. He points out the notice that claims the site is fiction, and has apologized to those that did not see it, and who he (inadvertantly?) hurt.For what it's worth: I believe him. I believe he was just kidding, and expected people to get the joke. I think that -- other than the first entry in the drama -- it was clearly a farce and that no reasonable person would expect that story to be believed. Since Citrus always seemed intelligent, I have to believe he would know his story was unbelievable, and that he expected others to play along. The only thing that bothered me is all the dead links to his entries and the fact that that he got rid of some damned fine writing in order to pull of the scam. He said they were just words and he could come up with more, but they were good words. I'll miss those words. On the other hand, I think we've all experienced jokes where we felt more betrayed or angry than amused.I was once at a cook-out where the neighbors were debuting their infant son. The proud father walked in the backyard with a baby carrier...and stumbled! Everyone in that yard leapt whether they had a chance to get there in time or not. What hit the ground was not an infant, but a doll! Proud papa was lucky to get out of that yard alive. He screwed with the natural protective instinct -- be it maternal or paternal -- of everyone there. While everyone pretended to get over it, the air was pretty thick that whole night.I ask, are there things which trigger to many feelings of betrayal or fear to actually be funny? Could Citrus have done this in a way where fewer feelings were hurt? Was Citrus wrong? Were people too sensitive? Can Lemon and Human live in peace? Sci/Tech29858@blogcritics.org Fri, 20 May 2005 20:26:50 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/16/223835.php NicoletteI know I've been talking a lot about moving. And I know that some of you are just getting to know me, and maybe some of it doesn't make sense to you yet.The place I'm moving is Ely Minnesota. While I grew up in the Detroit area part of my family is from Ely, and it's always seemed like home to me. I can't explain it beyond saying that when I'm there I'm at peace. My grandmother lives there now...it's her hometown. She came to the Detroit area during WWII to work in the factories. I sound out a couple years ago that she was a tank inspector...she would make sure all the nuts and bolts were in place. I guess some of the guys would get mad, thinking she was too picky, but she wasn't about to approve a defective tank with her brother fighting in the war.Anyhow, she moved back to Ely in the 80s (to take care of HER mother) and I want to be close to her and able to help her out. And now it looks like it's time for that.The town was initially a mining town. I cannot imagine working in a dark pit, and I guess suicide rates were pretty high. The town was founded by Swedes and Slavs. My family is Slovenian. My great-great uncle (I think that's right) was the sheriff for a while, and looked a lot like Clint Eastwood. The area is also surrounded by clean lakes and beautiful forests. There are areas which have not changed since prehistoric times.There is something primitive and timeless about the area.All of this is my way of making this song about the town make sense. The following (sappy!) song always makes me cry -- and it has a tendency to come on the radio as we are leaving the town so my hubby has to deal with extra waterworks. The song reminds of of the history and heritage of the town and all the things I love and cherish about the place that my heart calls home. I'd dearly like to share it with you all. I Could Grow Old in Ely. by Fyder & Everhart.For those of you wondering about the Mukluk reference: Steger Mukluks.The Amazon selections are all related to either Ely or the surrounding area. Some, like the Jim Brandenburg books, are photography books. The William Kent Krueger books are murder mysteries. Check them out! Culture29594@blogcritics.org Mon, 16 May 2005 22:38:35 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/16/091526.php NicoletteI have an addiction. Greek yogurt. It's true. For those of you who've never had the pleasure, let me shine light into the darkness of your existence.Greek yogurt is thicker than the watery gunk which passes for yogurt in the States. It has this amazing creamy consistency. Sweetened with honey, and with some fruit mixed in, it tastes sinful and decadent and wonderful, and you can't have any because it's all mine.In fact, you can add anything that you like...fruit, nuts, peanut butter, granola, cereal...all of the above. (Who am I to judge what consenting adults want to do with their yogurt?)It's healthy and a snack of it (yogurt, honey, fruit) is fewer than 300 calories. It provides an excellent source of protein, calcium, and vitamins. Studies have shown -- as the Dairy Association tells us all the time -- that people who get 3 servings of dairy calcium weigh on average 12 pounds less than those people who do not get enough.The best source is Trader Joe's. They stopped selling it for a while and there was a there was a gnashing of teeth and much wailing in the land from me, and all the people I'd hooked on its creamy perfection, but now it's back, Baby!The brand is called Fage Total.But it might as well be called: TheClosestThatNicoletteWillGetToHeavenWhileClothedAndUpright. Tastes29540@blogcritics.org Mon, 16 May 2005 09:15:26 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/14/123435.php NicoletteEvery girl who could have the power... will have the power... can stand up, will stand up. Slayers... every one of us. Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong? Chosen, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Season 7.The first time my husband caught be watching Buffy, I was embarrassed. How cheesy. The second time I was defensive. The third time I was too in love with the show to care. (That's he subversive charm of the show -- it lures you in slowly but surely.)If you are a non-convert, I know what you're thinking: Something called Buffy, The Vampire Slayer is bound to be silly and marginal...and why must people that like a show make it seem more than it is?I'm here before you are a relatively non-stupid human being to tell you that I love this show because it has depth, humor, intelligent writing, and quality acting. I'm standing slayer-like to defend a show that, even with it legions of fans, is still underrated.Even the name has a subversive brilliance when you consider the show is largely about underestimating women. Who could take a show with that name seriously? Who could take a little blonde girl seriously? But if you take the name or the girl at face value, you're missing a lot. Joss Whedon got the idea for the show because he was sick of some little blonde girl always getting killed in some dark alley in horror movies. He said he wanted the blonde girl to "take back the night." That's right -- Buffy at heart is a show about girl power. (Jennifer Garner, and every other woman in Hollywood playing kick-ass women, need to thank Joss.) It was also a show that made it clear that with power comes responsibilities and choices. And that no matter how strong you are...you could use a few friends. It was a show that dealt in the supernatural, but also used it as a metaphor for real life challenges...loving the wrong guy, physical abuse, sexual assault, death, first jobs, growing apart from friends, finding out your parents liked to you... In an episode called Weight of The World,, Buffy saves someone and they say to her, "But you're just a girl!" Buffy wearily replies, "That's what I keep saying." Who hasn't had that feeling?It was a show unafraid to take chances. In the 4th season episode, Hush, the town in plunged into silence and so is the viewer. In the Season 5 episode, The Body, Buffy loses a loved one and a decision was made not to have incidental music because Joss felt it was too much of a comfort to the viewer -- what remains is one of the most realistic portrayals of what losing someone really feels like. In Once More With Feeling (Season 6 Joss made up for the lack of music by doing a musical...and if that's not gutsy, what is?Words. BtVS was a show that loved words. Clever turns of phrases, funny dialogue, moving language, a rich tapestry of vowels and consonants that communicated so much. For anyone who loves language the show was a smorgasbord.Buffy also featured one of the best lesbian relationships ever shown on tv. Ironically the network (WB) tried to tighten the reins on what could be shown. If he had engineered a kiss for sweeps week, it would have been all whiskers on kittens, but a long and loving relationship between two women gave the network the vapors. (And clever Joss had their first on screen kiss be so incidental that nobody could object.)I began to watch the show by accident, but it won me over because it was that good! I'm a person who can like a show, and still not watch it if the remote is not in sight, and barely notice when it's cancelled. I'm wearing out my DVDS, I watch the reruns on TV, I read books on the show like the one listed below (and which I recommend.) I'm passionately in love with this show in a way I've never been with another show. If you have not seen the show, borrow the dvds from a friend or relative (I meant, purchase them from Amazon!!) Give yourself a chance to fall in love with not just Buffy -- but Willow, and Xander, and Spike, and Tara... Allow yourself the luxury of seven seasons of intelligent writing which you can now view at warp speed. (Oops, mixing shows here.)You know you want to join us! Video29496@blogcritics.org Sat, 14 May 2005 12:34:35 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/11/121845.php NicoletteMy husband is not a fan of tattoos, but the woman he married is, and so he has developed an appreciation for them. Because he finds me sexy, he also finds every inch of my skin sexy...including the parts with colorful ink underneath the surface.Nobody looking at me would think rebel or biker babe. I look like a be-freckled girl next door, and (perhaps) more innocent than I am. If I had a dime for how many times I told a slightly off-color joke and had someone gape at the incongruity of those words coming from someone they perceived as more of a Maryann than a Ginger.I know that there are a lot of wholesome women and upstanding men with tattoos, though. The people who take issue with the concept like to portray them as only for convicts, sailors, and loose women, but true aficionados know the truth: they are what you make them. They can be a tacky adornment, a silly impulse (soon regretted), a personal statement, or a work of art.Because I was a fan long before I was touched by a needle, I discovered a secret: there are a lot of fine upstanding citizens with ink. How did I find this out? By complimenting others with visible tattoos. Know what happens? Bankers and doctors and stay-at-home moms start rolling up sleeves and pant legs. There are a whole lot of people with tats who are nothing like the stereotype.People use the word "addictive," too easily, but tattoos can be addictive. The endorphin rush which is the natural response to pain, the sense of making a personal statement, and the feelings of transformation combine to make it an experience that many choose to repeat. Although I only have 2, I can honestly say that both times were positive experiences for me. (My husband looked a little queasy watching....)With this in mind, I'd like to recommend a movie called Tattoo, a Love Story. Haven't heard of it? It's an indy film which I happened to stumble upon at the local video store, and I'm glad I did. It's the story of a grade school teacher who is appalled when one of her students brings to school a tattoo artist for show and tell. Do I even have to mention they fall in love?The movie both acknowledges that many people don't understand the desire to be tattooed, while also explaining why so many people do enjoy the experience. The leads are about as opposite as can be, but somehow they have terrific chemistry that makes you believe in them as a couple.The female lead, Megan Edwards as Sarah, did a wonderful job portraying a woman at a crossroads in her life and learning to open up her mind to new possibilities. Isn't that what we all must do when we come to a dead end? (Turn around and find a new way to go.)Virgil Mignanelli plays Virgil. (What a stretch.) He's a big teddy bear of a guy who you end up wanting to hug. He's the sort of guy, who while not an Adonis, should get the girl!I'm not saying that this movie deserved to sweep the Oscars, but it was an enjoyable film for even the people who think ink is only for pens and printers! Culture29358@blogcritics.org Wed, 11 May 2005 12:18:45 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/10/170819.php NicoletteIn retrospect, I was dressed all wrong the first time I met my future mother-in-law. Of course, I wasn't expecting to meet her then, and had no inkling I would be marrying her son...still, perhaps it was a bad start.I'm 13 years younger than my husband, and I have a baby face. So when B- walked into her son's house and saw a girl sitting cross-legged on his couch, and wearing no make-up and a baseball cap, she probably envisioned statutory rape charges. I'm sure my freckles didn't help.The initial meeting was brief and she was friendly; there was no indication that -- if we were to spend time together -- it would be an unpleasant experience. I liked B-, she was like Mrs. Cleaver. I'd had a tumultuous relationship with my own mother, and was touched at her love for her children, and her ability to stay married for over 40 years. (I know it's sad when that's considered an abnormality in this society.)Subsequent meetings found me more nervous. The relationship was becoming more serious and I wanted her to like me. Still, I wasn't panic stricken. I knew I was a good woman, I knew I had my boyfriend happy, and I knew that I came to her with a open heart and a love for her son. I figured we would be friends and she would be the mother figure I wanted in my life. It didn't take long for the comments to start. The implication that I was not a good housekeeper (by then I'd moved in with my boyfriend), the comments on my not cooking enough, just little barbs said with a smile.Now I can be a tough cookie, but I have a unique ability to discount unkind comments said by people whose good favor I wish to be in. So it took me a while to actually accept that I Was Not Grade-A Daughter-in-Law material in her eyes.I knew she was mad that I insisted she call before she came over and knock on the door before she came in. It was for her sake too -- man&woman in love, er, ya might not just want to walk in. (Although she did call another son the day after his wedding and wonder why he would not answer the phone.) But I figured time would take care of that -- her anger not, um, man&woman. Although...I'd invited her on a trip to visit my grandmother...around 900 miles each way. It was odd. Every time I held a door open for her she would thank my husband. I took ill on the way home and she called me lazy for not helping with the luggage. When we dropped her off she thanked her son for the whole trip. He whispered to her -- I was in the next room and heard -- that she needed to thank me also.If I had any doubts about my standing, my 30th birthday made it clear. Id taken the day off work and was relaxing in my little nightie, when there was a knock on the door. I threw on jeans and a T-shirt, and went to answer the door. Nobody there, but there was a card from B-. I called my boyfriend at work, touched that she's thought of me, and told him I would give her long enough to get home before I called her. I should have skipped the call which consisted of my thanking her, and her informing me that I was not good enough for her son and that nobody in her family liked me. (Later on she made it clear that the list included her recently deceased husband.)I called my work to speak to my manager -- another older woman/mentor -- and she ended up sending me flowers she felt so bad. I called my boyfriend and cried over the phone to him. And then I called my future sister-in-law, and was told that B- was the matriarch and could say what she liked.A few days later we went to see her to work things out. She was looking at nursing home brochures when we arrived. Basically the gist was I was too into reading to be much company for her son, we had too many pets, I did not hug long enough or warmly enough. She also related an incident on vacation where she claimed I yelled at her, my boyfriend -- who was there for the incident she referred to -- told her I did not yell at her. She then -- hand to God -- pointed at ME, and said, "Don't call me a liar." I asked her did she think I had my hand up her son's ass and was making him talk? She also told me I was not welcome at her funeral. (I nearly choked swallowing back all the smart-assed comments.)And after all of this she wanted me to hug her goodbye -- presumably to measure the length and warmth. It took me a year to speak to her again, and I did it for my boyfriend's sake. (She was completely miserable at the wedding and I don't believe she ever spoke to me directly.)I learned a few things -- that I was not going to be blessed with a loving relationship with my mother-in-law, but that I would go through the motions because I love my husband. (To her credit she fakes it too!) The other thing was that no matter how much I need a mother figure in my life: I'm choosy. If I was smart enough to wait for the perfect guy, I could way for the perfect gal also. And I think a lot about what my husband's dad said when I asked him the secret to being married for over 40 years. He looked at me, smiled, and said, "I turn off my hearing aid a lot." Culture29301@blogcritics.org Tue, 10 May 2005 17:08:19 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/09/125318.php NicoletteThere is a scene in Mean Girls where one of the girls in the popular clique tells the new girl that she's pretty. A compliment to make her feel welcome? No, a trap -- to see if The New Girl has the unmitigated gall to agree that she's attractive.I think the truth of this scene flew over the heads of most men. Their interactions and politics are different -- straight-forward. Men -- boys -- know where they stand with one another. If a guy is your friend yesterday, he'll be your friend tomorrow -- barring a major betrayal or running over his dog. They certainly don't slowly torture members of their group longterm.Girl Politics are different. There can be seismic shifts over seemingly minor incidences such as wearing the wrong outfit or smiling too long at the wrong boy. Often what is said is very different than what is meant. Someone showing compassion can be garnering information to use against the unwary girl who she pretends to comfort. And the girl on the outs is often the last to know. She finds herself second guessing comments that would be clearly malicious if they were not said with sincere smiles. If she responds to what she senses beneath the surface, she is labeled paranoid...she has also given them ammunition. Do I speak from personal experience? Sure -- from both sides of the Tug of War. Then again, most women can tell you a few tales from the front. The cruel comments they cried over, the cruel comments they doled out.I remember being 14, looking into a mirror and wondering why my ex-best friend called me ugly and everyone laughed. I saw a pretty girl in the mirror -- not that I would ever be stupid enough to tell people that -- but maybe I was missing something. Did I have too many freckles? Was 113 pounds too fat? Maybe if I had the right clothes? Should I fight with this girl? Should I pretend like I was above it all? (The truth is that once you were on the outs any decision or change was a bad one. You had to find a new group.)Years later these girls go into relationships and the men in their lives wonder why they are always looking for hidden meanings. Why the woman in their life cannot take a compliment at face value -- and why all the questions this woman asks seem to be trick questions with no right answer. And sometimes they wonder why their girlfriend can be sweet to someone's face and tear them to ribbons secretly. They weren't privy to the early training. As a rule, girls become women and it does get somewhat better. We do learn to become loyal friends and we do, hopefully, gather up the tatters of our self-esteem, but those memories are always there; even more so when we see our daughters and the girls around us going out into the world -- sweet, innocent, looking for acceptance... We hold our breath and hope it will be different. We hope that if the world has to teach them humility and knock them about, that the wounds will be more on the outside--bruised skin is sooner healed than are the countless tiny wounds that are bled out in confused tears late at night. Culture29217@blogcritics.org Mon, 9 May 2005 12:53:18 EDT