Cleavage

Here’s the thing: there are two types of Cleavage Situations today. There’s the Look At Me, I  have Boobs!Cleavage, and the I’m Boney but Beautiful! Cleavage. I’m not a fan of either. I mean, come on, Big Cleavage is an artificial body part, because it’s not really there unless you make it:. squeeze some fatty parts together and there it is, big cleavage. Wait, you’re a model/actress, with no fatty parts? Then I’m sure you’re not at all artificial.

And guess what? Cleavage Situations are freaking everywhere. In the category of Look at Me! I Have Boobs!: Giada cooks her chicken parm with cleavage; my banker talks about money with cleavage, and the news chicks often like to talk about the fires and shootings with their cleavage. Why? Are we supposed to look at your pushed together breast crack, or listen to your fascinating information about ingredients/moneymarkets/shootings? (Confusing for us, isn’t it?)

And the I’m Boney but Beautiful! Category isn’t much better. OK, I’ll come clean: In 6th grade, Gary Hammerslag said that I was “a carpenter’s dream: flat as a board.” I hated Gary for a while, but then I realized that my boobs (hopefully) would grow (a bit), but he would always be an ass. But did I ever put my boney nonbreasts out there on display? Of course not: my clothes all had a little something called fronts. But these days, it seems the more drop dead gorgeous a model or actress is, the more Chestbone Structure we see. It reminds me of the story The Emperor’s New Clothes...no one has the nerve to tell these beautiful, famous women that they’re missing the front of their dress; people are too busy fawning over them.

So here’s what I’d like to say to both categories of misguided women: cover the hell up. So you’ve got tits, or you don’t got tits...why do you have to show us?  Go about your business, (whatever it might be), avoid the fawning masses, and above all, avoid Gary Hammerslag.

He’s probably still an ass.

Beatitudes for Blogging

So here I am, writing my first blog. In a word... intimidating.

   There will be mind meandering, word wandering, and probably way too much time talking about myself. Or more to the point, it’s my take on things, my Point of View...oh let’s face it, it just makes me feel more productive than sitting around all day watching episodes of “Property Brothers” (which one do you like better, Jonathan or Drew?) and it’s also my  Johnny-come-lately attempt to embrace the Computer Age. (Better late than never, my father used to say; my mother used to say, "Sometimes for fashion, you have to suffer" ...but that’s a thought for another day…)

I’ll try really hard not to let my Stupid air out too much; people don’t need to read my Stupid, they have their own perfectly good Stupid.

I’ll try not to curse. 

I’ll misuse colons and semicolons constantly, but I do LOVE me some capitals, and italics can never be used enough, don’t you think?

I intend to enjoy myself, as opposed to edit myself; hell, I do that enough in Real Life, why should I do that here? 

I’ll try not to curse. 

I’ll write about friends and family, whether they like it or not, and the dead will rise again, since I’ll write about them, too. They won’t critique me like my friends and family will, and I’m relieved about that: 

Blessed are the dead, because they can’t critique your blog.

Nothing like a Beatitude to wrap up your very first blog.

    Before I sign off, I want to give a shout out to my new Library Tech Guy, Jeff, who has the most amazing ability to teach an old dog new tricks without once laughing at said dog, not even smirking, although he started rolling up newspaper once. This exchange was at our first meeting:

Me: ( sounding like I was at an AA meeting) Hi, my name is Susan, and I’m a non blogger.

Jeff: O.K., great, let’s get you set up! Have you thought of a name for your blog?

Me: (cagey) Yeah, I have a few. (Read off several half-assed names from my list,)

Jeff: Good, good, which one are you going to use, then?

Me: (staring at list, which only has half-assed names) Not sure…

Very long pause, at which time I picture myself running crazily from the room; I picture myself  back on my couch, watching Property Brothers and drinking wine and eating Cheez-its: what was I thinking, trying to enter this world? I was like Ma Kettle trying to hang out with the Klingons.

Jeff: Hey! How ‘bout we try this...

    And he led me calmly and matter-of-factly through the wilderness: not a single smirk was seen, although I’m pretty sure I heard a snort from the girl at the desk across the room.

Blessed are the Geeks, for their earnestness will forever be a strong, kind light in the scary mysteries of technology.

Thank you, Jeff. See you next time.