Voting Rights

I am a big fan of democracy. So much so that I often apply the principal of “majority rules” to my own life.

For example, back in the day when Kevin and I were merely dating, we often held mini-elections over issues of contention. I had four votes and Kevin, as an independent body, had three votes. The voting would work something like this….

“Hey Kev, what do you feel life for dinner tonight?” I’d ask.

“Oh, I could really go for pizza,” he’d reply patting his stomach and smacking his lips.

“I’m not in the mood for pizza,” I’d reply, “how about Chinese?”

Kevin would scowl, “No, no, I just had Chinese last night. Pizza.”

“Chinese.”

“Pizza.”

At this point we’d realize we were at an impasse and so we’d put it to a vote. Four votes, Chinese, three votes Pizza, and the issue was decided.

Now I know what you are thinking. You’re thinking this is merely a dictatorship disguised as a democracy. Ahhh, but there you’d be wrong. How about this factual scenario….

“I’m getting hungry. What do you want for dinner?” Kevin asks me patting his stomach and smacking his lips.

“Oh, I don’t I could go for Mexican or Italian,” I reply.

“Well, which one do you want more?” Kevin asks as he hunts for his keys.

“I don’t know, I could go either way. Lets vote.”

I’m split down the middle, two votes Italian, two votes Mexican so Kevin’s three vote block easily tips the scales onto Italian and off we head for some pizza.

You see? Democracy in action.

There’s only one problem. Once our individual beings merged into the state of matrimony, Kevin believed he should be granted equal voting rights. After much debate and long diatribes, I agreed and we now have four votes apiece. This, as you can imagine, is difficult as there are often ties with no mechanism for tie breaking. My streamlined democracy is now a bit more unwieldy but this is just one of the many sacrifices I have had to learn to endure. Although I must admit it was much more fun back in the day when I held the tie breaking vote. Ah well.

But the point of this rambling is that I need a craft room. Currently, Kevin is hogging all the free space in the house. He has one room devoted entirely to his computer stuff and a second room filled with his tools and woodworking stuff. The result is there is no where for me to spread out and work. Therefore, I have decided to submit a resolution to the McLaughlin democracy. I propose that the computer room be turned into the craft room.

Voting will open at 2:25pm today and close and 2:30pm. Any vote not cast won’t count…… Think I should let him know about this? I suppose this entry is a form of public notice. I guess that’s good enough.

Well, look at that, only 4 minutes left for voting.

I’m thinking Chrissie is going to get her craft room after all……

Stuff

It’s so easy to get sucked into this material world. The world of bigger, better, newer. It’s so tempting to always want more and it’s so hard to ask yourself, “do I really need it?”

I have a friend who has sold her soul to stuff. She constantly wants and everything revolves around name brands. She has to live in the best part of town, her kids have to wear all the designer cloths, she has to drive a big name car. She asks first where your outfit came from before she decides if it is nice or not. She complains about how much she spends a month but is horrified when I suggest a less expensive alternative. “My husband would never wear shoes from Nordstrom. He only wears Ferrigamos.” She is never satisfied. She is only impressed by the price tag and the name brand and the image. I watch her in her quest for stuff and I have to shudder in part revulsion and fear because sometimes I see myself for her.

I don’t want to sell my life for money. I don’t want to spend nine hours of my day just so I can go out on a weekend and buy more stuff that I’ll never use and never be satisfied with. I don’t want to drop my kids into daycare when they are 6 weeks old. Money is great. You can get a lot of things with it, but I would rather have my time and my sanity than a stressed out life. But it is so tempting and it is so hard to be happy with what you have.

She saw my house and turned up her nose. “How can you live here?” she asked me in horror. “What is it, under 1500 square feet? I could never stand a kitchen that small. I need at least 3,000 square feet you know.” And I found myself blindly agreeing with her that yes, my kitchen was way too small and I couldn’t wait to move somewhere bigger. But after she left, I had to ask myself, why do I need a bigger kitchen? I mean, mine works just fine. It has all the appliances. Sure, it doesn’t have the island or miles of counter space but it suits my lifestyle. I mean, really, it is enough.

So now when I talk to her, I use it as a sort of grounding test. I watch her scramble through her life of image is everything and I chant to myself, “that is what I don’t want to become.” I love coming home and eating dinner with Kevin. I love playing with my dog and loving the cats. I love having weekends free to just enjoy. I don’t ever want to give those things up for more money. It just wouldn’t be worth it. So I guess that means I’ll never work at some swanky big firm or live in a 3,000 square foot house with a kitchen island, or have a prestigious zip code.

But you know what? That’s just fine with me.

The Pooka Life

Oh man, this kid is growing so fast, next think I know he’ll be looking for his first car. Anyone know any hot 1 month old girls looking for a date? If so, I’ll run them by Baby D. Two month old might be ok too but anything over that will be pushing it. You’d better act fast though cause this kid is gonna be a real looker just like his aunt.

I am stuck here at work even though it should be a holiday and the sun is sort of shining (which qualifies as a minor miracle here in Portland) and instead of working on my garden or loving my dog I am here. At work. Stuck. Did I already mention the stuck part?

Needless to say, I have been totally unproductive and proud of it. So there!

Come back tomorrow. I may be less grumpy…but no guarantees.

Doesn’t Everyone Have a Binaca Bracelet?

I sometimes forget that not everyone sees the world through my eyes. Things that seem perfectly obvious to me may be totally bizarre to someone else. For example, my friend needed some chap stick so I told her to grab it out of my purse. She rummaged around in it for a while and then said, “Um, Chrissie, what is this?!?”

I looked up and saw she was holding a spritzer of Binaca. You know, that stuff you squirt into your mouth to freshen it up right before you kiss someone. Now, having a tube of Binaca in your purse probably isn’t that strange but in my case, the tube is wrapped in duct tape with a piece of twine hanging from it like a handle.

“Oh, that,” I replied nonchalantly “it goes on your wrist, like this.” And I took the spray from her and slipped it over my hand so that it hung, dangling from my wrist. Oddly enough, this little demonstration only seemed to add to her confusion. What, like other people don’t walk around with a home made Binaca bracelet?

It actually took me a moment to process her confusion. You see, in our house, we walk around with the Binaca bracelet because it is the ultimate training device. Artie just hates the stuff. First off, when you spray it, it makes this weird hissing sound like a mad cat. Second, it makes him sneeze. It’s non-toxic and won’t harm him if he swallows it so we just aim at his nose and shoot. So when someone is at the door, we slip on the Binaca bracelet and if he starts barking or jumping on the guest, a quick squirt quiets him down. When you take him on a walk, you slip on the bracelet and if he goes after a cat or gets in a tangle with another dog, a quick squirt squirt and the squabble quickly breaks up. It’s gotten to the point now that all we have to do is pick up the spritzer and point it at him and say “no” and he’ll stop whatever it is he’s doing he hates the stuff so much.

I suppose, though, to those unfamiliar with my life, it may look like I’m strangely paranoid about my breath. I mean, why else would there be a spritzer of Binaca in every room? But it’s all perfect normal. Trust me.

The Pooka Life

Here’s a little mind bender for you this Valentine’s Day. Place the letters of the work LOVE in the square below. All four letters must be on each vertical and horizontal line. No two of the same letter may be next to each other on these lines.

Sorry about the random white space. I seem to have offended the html gods and they refuse to cooperate this morning.

Enjoy!L __ __ __

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O
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__

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V
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E

The Pooka Life

Sabrina sent me this link that reads your personality based on color preference. According to my selections….

I don’t like authority and I rebel against all forms of limitation. I am my own person and I intend to stay that way .. and to get on in the world simply by my hard work and determination.
Man, all that from picking blue.