Let's Not Kid Ourselves. It's Easy to Bitch. Now How About a Solution?

It's easy to talk. It takes guts and smarts to find workable solutions.

I am soooo tired of people on Facebook, in meetings, in conversations online and in person who are renegades for peace or progress but who never have a proposal to solve the issues they rage about so passionately. Often, their debate is not even peaceful but wrought with anger toward their dissenters...usually after they have opened the floor for what they insist will be a meaningful and fair conversation/debate. But meaningful for who? Are they not just looking for someone with whom to spout off?

Interestingly, whether I agree with the person's point of view or not, I feel the same about it: "It's a great way to turn me off, sweetie, and see that wall over there--you might as well be talking to it. Now, if only that wall had a mirror so you could admire yourself while you present your monologue."

I don't argue that there are many tough conundrums out there plaguing our local and national community. We need conversation. We need awareness raising. But at some point, the crusader and his cause get tuned out if there isn't a suggestion offered to overcome the plight.

And how often have you noticed that these folks are the first to shoot down people who offer baby steps in the right direction? It's usually all or nothing in their eyes. Another great way to estrange people.

So now that Gropius has put it all out there for you, here's my solution: remember we're all people here. When you disagree, do it humanely and you may just find that others are willing to listen. Otherwise, I hear a loud internal buzz when you start talking that masks the words you happen to be speaking in my face.

Inviting all dissenters to comment...

Five Disturbing Trends

1. The web cam. So I have this web cam, right? It’s always off, since it’s reserved for connecting with my brother & his new little family once the baby is born. Although sometimes, there’s this faint red light on it and I swear I didn’t turn it on. Who’s watching me?
   
2. Ketchup. No matter how many times I shake the damn ketchup bottle, that nasty watery stuff still comes out.
   
3. The Rays. I misplaced my supreme gusto for the Rays when they really started losing…like 13 games in a row and then some. I swore I wasn’t a fair weather fan. I still love them, really. Everyone has their down time, boys. But I’m being brutally honest. Am I terrible?
   
4. AFH. Each time I stoop to the level of watching Americas Funniest Home videos (which isn’t often), I find it crazy how many incredibly idiotic entries were actually filmed over 5 years ago…as if the families have been fighting for half a decade to get them exposed among other idiotic videos.
   
5. Annoyed Interrupters. Today someone interrupted something I had scheduled with other members of my team and acted like I was the annoying one for quietly and patiently pausing, waiting for them to leave. This keeps happening. Om, people, I really think you are important, but can’t you respect my time too?

So what disturbing trends do you have to add? I know there's something irking you.

Giving People the Boot

So I heard a hilarious new story from Husband this weekend about why he gave one of his high school girlfriends the boot. I must say, it's truly astonishing that you can still derive new information from the past when you've been married a while.

First and foremost, the girl's name was Regina. (And if you're a Gropius friend, you know we've been laughing for over a month about the city in Canada with this name, pronounced like a female body part. It's come up in the conversation since Matt Holloman's online radio show evidently has a number of followers from this part of the country.)

Anyway.

Husband visited Regina's house after school to discover that her little dog "left doo doo all over the place inside." He couldn't bear to think of her walking across the floor in which the tiny rat terrier had defecated. It was the last time he visited Regina's home, and the last time he spoke with her--after giving her the boot.

I wish I could top that. The only thing that comes close is the time I told a near-stalker that I couldn't go out with him (for the 187th time) because I had to watch a re-run of the Incredible Hulk. FINALLY I got rid of him for good.

What's your story, people? Gropius wants to know.

The Bradentucky Christening

If you guessed this is a partially eaten chocolate creation, you would be right. If you also guessed that Husband was the one who left the teeth marks in place of her left breast, you would also be right. And finally, if you guessed that this little abomination was made by our neighbor's mother for her granddaughter's Christening, you would get a perfect score of 3/3.

Insults to your intelligence aside, my guess is that you probably earned a 2/3 score on this odd quiz. It's been my limited experience that the usual party favors for infants on auspicious occasions are a little more...traditional. You do know that we live in Bradentucky, Florida, right?

P.S. This writing took approximately 5 minutes. The "sort of" chocolate goddess has now vanished and is being digested. Not sure what it tasted like.

The Best of Healthy Intentions

Husband just admitted he was glad when the blueberries fell out of the fridge and scattered all over the floor. It sucks when you spend hard earned money on a good healthy intention--beautiful, anti-oxidant bearing fruits--and they turn out to be bitter. But so good when the lame refrigerator takes care of things before your consciousness cries waste.

Very interesting now that I think about it. My Annie's Goddess dressing always seems to take a spill too. And Husband calls it the "Stinking Egg Dressing." Wonder if that might not be an accident...

So here's the problem: every time we go to the store, we pull one of these lines: "We need to eat healthier. We're going to buy 10, 018 pounds of romaine lettuce, plenty of dressing to jazz up that roughage and enough fresh vegetables to feed Toronto (as long as they're eaten in the next 3 days before they rot)." Then we come home and order a pizza for dinner. And a week later we're cleaning out the "remains of the day."

I feel like an absolute loser for admitting this. Being extra conscious about not wasting and being a good, healthy vegetarian are forefront in my mind. It's seriously bad that we allow this to repeat itself so often. And it's not an excuse, but we're just so beat at the end of the day. Who feels like cooking? Especially when you're a complete kitchen spazz like me and you don't have the slightest interest in cooking or learning to cook.

Lettuce, you say? Oh yeah, all you have to do is wash it. I know, that makes this situation ultra lame.

The Wish List

Husband had neatly laid out his kayaking gear to dry. Milliseconds (I'm sure) before the last bead of moisture was hoisted into the air by the burning sun, the lightening struck and a mini-monsoon began. After just 15 minutes of rain, our street is a river, our yard looks like the Everglades during rainy season, and somewhere off in the oak tree a Mockingbird dares to sing.

With all of the beautiful images we have at arm's length in the ever changing environment of our microcosm in Florida, travel--even just the ongoing idea of it--is one of my favorite money sinks and visualizations to keep motivated. This afternoon, I decided we need a wish list. It's not fashioned in the deeply rooted bucket list style, partitioning out everything we want to accomplish to be whole and satisfied individuals. No. This time, we're in need of a little dreamin'. I'm not ashamed of the unlofty nature of it.

In addition to some specific destinations on the list (Ireland, Costa Rica, and what the hell--another visit to Australia would be nice), I'm adding all of the "things" we talk about on a regular basis that aren't immediately accessible, like aaah, a new kitchen. Husband likes to mentally travel through food preparation, a past time which I don't share and most likely never will. (Getting water to boil is about the extend of my culinary talents.) But it's his thing. I support it fully.

So to be ultra anal about it, I divided the list into "big" things for the next 5 years and smaller ones, those that are attainable in the pretty short term if we set our priorities straight. Already, I'm loving it. When you're clear about what you want instead of randomly announcing it over and over again in an unfocused cloud of half-intention, it'll happen, right?

So Gropius readers, what's on your wish list? Thanks, National Geographic. I did usurp your Ireland photo.

Publix, Where Shopping Was Not a Pleasure

USUALLY shopping at Publix is a pleasure. It's a good company that does a lot philanthropically and most of the time, employs good people that at least pretend to love customers.

But today I felt like saying, "Oh jeez, I'm so sorry I had to bother your important work to order a cake. Let me go, ah, like crawl under a hole or something since I dared to interrupt you."

Brief background: I needed to order this Twitter cake to help my work celebrate the fact that we had reached 1,000 followers. (I know. Don't even start on me.) So the first thing I encounter as I approached the bakery counter is one lady asking another one to go ahead and "take me." She loudly replies, "Like I ain't got anything I'M tryin' to do."

The obvious message: "Welcome to my miserable world of bread and cake hell. I hate your guts because you are stading here. You probably want something stupid."

I won't bore you with the dialogue, but literally, she had a problem with every aspect of the order, from the date I wanted the cake, to the size, to...yeah, the design. I did arrive with several Twitter logos and graphics for the cake. Evidently, it was somewhat complicated and extra annoying of me. My secret hope: that the cake is an absolute fugly disaster. I will have a good submission for Cake Wrecks.

So here's to you, Publix! When customers stand in the way of getting work done, it totally bites.