I work at a public utility managed by a private company. When we were still public, the unions had Christmas parties; they were always lots of fun. The first ‘privateer’ put on lavish parties; the unions stopped having parties except for serving food at the December meetings. I went to the first company party & it was like being at work (except that I didn’t have to wear steel-toed shoes & a hard hat). It was as “us vs. them” as it was at work, with management over there not even pretending to hide what a chore it was to mix with the peons, & the workers over here, talking about how arrogant most management people were being. I skipped the rest of the parties. The new management company had a barbeque during the summer & a ‘holiday luncheon’ later this week. I work nights, so the lunch hour is dawn to me; I skipped the barbeque & I’ll skip this todo as well. Enough food is made so there will be leftovers for the night shift workers.

Melanie, your post brought back memories! My sister & I figured out the ‘mechanics’ of sex when our Littlechap dolls dated our brothers’ G.I. Joes.

I have a 6 year old great niece who has several Barbies. I wasn’t allowed Barbies when I was a girl; my mum thought she looked “snotty”. (i.e. stuck-up). I personally don’t think little girls should get Barbies until they realize that only Barbie (& heiresses to vast fortunes) gets all that stuff; condos, convertibles, vast designer wardrobes….maybe when little girls are 30 or so. Now, I do collect certain lines of Barbies. They’re all in storage until i find a way to display some of them.

During the last 15 or so years of her life, my grandmother was utterly obsessed with weight loss-hers & that of nearly everyone in our family. Everything she cooked was “free”; fat-free, sugar-free, taste-free. Most of the time, her only subject of conversation was the weight of family members. Visiting her for any reason was a trial. Once, after mentioning that I’d seen my doctor, Gram asked how much weight I’d been told to lose. The doctor had advised me to lose weight, but not nearly as much as Gram decided I had to lose. That year, my Christmas gift from her was a scale. I thanked her politely, took it home, & put it in the tsedakah box along with some old clothes I was giving away. When I was a teen, a doctor told me not to pay much attention to my weight; go by how my clothes fit. Since then, I’ve followed his advice. I get weighed at the doctor’s office, & only there.

Jennifer saunders & Joanne Lumley in “Absolutely Fabulous”. I love that series.

I was fortunate enough to visit this Memorial a few years ago. What surprised me was that after so many years, people are still standing in seemingly endless lines to see this bit of our history. What was even more astonishing what was in the clear plastic boxes for donations to maintain & improve the Memorial & museum. On the day I was there, there seemed to be as much Japanese money as American in the boxes.

I won’t cut back on my elderly cats’ health, either. Thankfully, Bubba the WonderCat is healthy but Sweet little Ramona needs medicine to control her thyroid & blood pressure. I cut back going to my favorite restaurants. I would joke about the one around the corner that it was my dining room. I won’t perm or color my own hair, but I do my own nails now. When I retire next year, I’ll re-assess my finances again. I’ll have a pension & keep my health coverage, but I’ll lose dental & vision coverage & I’ve saved very little. I’m considering dumping the landline, phone-company internet, & desktop & keeping my cell phone, cell-phone company internet, & cheap laptop. I’ll cut back on aimless shopping, but not on buying books.

This doesn’t surprise me. I’m not Episcopalian, but I have a dear friend who used to be. The Episcopalians strike me as a contrary bunch. Here, there is an Episcopalian cathedral. Two blocks away is another Episcopalian church. I asked my friend about it, & he explained that the cathedral was High Church, while the other was “only” (his words, not mine) Low Church. According to him, the High Church is more Anglo-Catholic while the Low Church is Protestant. Once I commented that if he was traveling & went to a place with no High Church, he’d go to a Low Church if one was available (since I will go to a synagogue of any branch when away). He insisted that he’d never set foot in a Low Church, that the High Church had more in “Communion” with the Roman Catholic church & that’s where he’d go. When the Episcopalian church began to ordain women, my friend was one of a bunch that I know of who left the church in protest. My friend told me that many went to different branches of the Orthodox church or Catholic churches, he went to an Anglican Rite Old Catholic church. So entire congregations breaking away from the Anglican community doesn’t surprise me. I wonder how long the breakwawy churches will last. If they are old, well-established, well-funded churches they might make it. If they are newer churches, or congregations with small memberships, they may die without the support of the whole Anglican community. It seems like a rah decision to me. Josie, I thoroughly agree with your “hate drains life’ statement. Very well put, hon.

Like some others, my fondest memory was graduation…just getting out. However, the area the school was in was nice; a big park on one side & the lake behind the building. Unfortunately, the city police department was on the other side. I remeber skip outs…my friends deciding not to return to school after lunch, & going uptown to Woolworth’s to look at make up. I never went along; I knew I’d get caught. It was a small town & my dad was a firefighter there. All the other firefighters knew me, all the cops knew me, the mayor knew me. I had to leave town to screw off.

Holiday pay. I know how selfish it sounds. However, I belong to a family that, except for my older brother (who lives overseas) is usually very “warm & fuzzy”, & gets together often. Thanksgiving is just another day, although with a different menu.

I loved Keith Olbermann’s comment when he first announced this last night “Could I make up anything funnier than that?”

Almost…a couple of times. My “panic” wasn’t because of the flight, but because of my seat-mates. Once, I was settled into my window seat, waiting to take off, when a man took the seat next to mine. He said “Hello”, so I returned the greeting, then turned my attention back to my book. He decided that my acknowedging his presence meant that I was wildly attracted to him, so he launched into an involved explanation about how “some men” might be interested in me, but he only dated models & actresses. I muttered a couple of disinterested “Oh, really” sort of remarks & focused on my book, but he kept yammering away. I told him I was getting a headache, & while he told me that models & actresses never get headaches & were always attentive, I started digging in my purse. I came across some disposable earplugs. I offered him a pair. No, he did not take the hint, he just kept rabbiting on while I inserted the plugs. He kept talking; I could see his mouth move out of the corner of my eye. After the seatbelt light was cancelled, I got up to go to the restroom & discovered a couple of empty rows at the back of the plane. I retrieved my book bag & moved away from him for the rest of the flight. The other time I was forced to fly by a British rail strike to fly to the north of Scotland (I like to fly, but I like to see the scenery by train when I can0. The man across the aisle struck up a conversation with me, even after it was clear that his English was minimal, & I didn’t even know what language he spoke. I was getting a bit anxious about what he was saying; I was afraid that I might agree to be sold into slavery or something equally disastrous. When the attendant served tea, she whispered that the man had flown on her flights before, & he was “chatty but harmless”. So I relaxed & spent the next hour discussing our families, politics, & who-knows-what-else. For all I know, I may have agreed to buy a bridge somewhere.

Most of my exercize comes from hoisting my own petard & throwing my weight around. Sorry……….couldn’t resist. I walk when the knees let me, or I use a stationary bike (parked in front of the TV). Recently, I resumed learning to belly dance, which is great fun as well as good exercize. There are several different styles, I’m starting with American Tribal, & will probably try Egyptian/cabaret next. The Uzbeck style looks interesting, too.

I think the Dems should just shut up & let her “open mouth & insert foot”. IMO, she can be her own worst enemy.

Jane, I didn’t think they were attractive, either. The cashmere indoor/outdoor coat reminded me of the fireproof coat my dad wore on his job as a firefighter, & the Hermes cardigan looked like a high-school “letter sweater”. The model wasn’t wearing the right bra for the silk-wool blend t-shirt. Okay, I’m done carping. I love sales cashmere sweaters. they’re warm & elegant (as long as they aren’t in weird styles or patterns), & when they’ve been worn ragged, I wear them to bed on frigid Midwestern nights.