Widow

During my TED talk in April of 2022, I discussed how widows are negatively stereotyped in the media. You know, that we constantly wear black (definitely me), that we’re always confused and depressed (yeah, right) and that we are most certainly are out to steal everyone’s husbands (seriously?)  I actually don’t care much about stereotypes, but when one does a TED talk, one must transmit an air of seriousness and mild outrage.

And it has recently come to my attention that Spirit of Halloween has joined in the fray. Their new advertised animatronic called the Widow, features this tagline:

Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman! When she caught her cheating husband with her sister on October 30, it gave a whole new definition to mischief night. Let’s just say dragging two bodies from the bedroom to the local lake can put a crick in anyone’s neck – that plus tripping on the roots of a Cyprus tree and tumbling down the muddy hill and breaking your neck. So now, when anyone in town hears a twig snap, they jump in fear that The Widow and her broken neck are there to take them to a watery grave.

You’ll make all the heads in the neighborhood turn once you add The Widow animatronic to your Halloween display. Standing at five feet eight inches tall with a neck that viciously snaps when activated, you don’t want to be in the path of this widow when she goes berserk. You’ll never forget the sounds of The Widow once you hear her hysterical cries of screaming and laughter for yourself. 

She’s fabulous. Times I have actually looked like this:

  • When there are maggots crawling in the trashcans feasting on leftover wings that my sons did not dispose of properly.
  • When I catch up on laundry and the boys throw all of their dirty towels into the laundry room.
  • When I hear the phrase “social media presence.”
  • When someone sits in my favorite church pew before I arrive to mass.
  • When friends visit, and I am forced to sit on the beach.

I won’t be in New Jersey for Halloween, but I’m getting her. Visit my yard and take a gander. May my sons do her proud.

Pre-Gaming

What’s up with the lionization of the hatred of work?

I know social media is supposed to be funny, but teaching this new generation that they should hate waking up early, hate sitting in an office, hate their bosses, and just hate work in general is a very dangerous proposition.

The latest IG post said:

I hope when I die, it’s early in the morning so I don’t go to work that day for no reason.

Sure, funny. But prescient, also. Why is having a job such a catastrophe?

I’ve always loved working. Always. There has never been a job I’ve ever dreaded doing, or hating going into. I have to work. It feeds my energy and passion.

Here’s some advice on how to have a great week from the Stoics:

Monday: Rise and Shine

On those mornings you struggle with getting up, keep this thought in mind: “I am awakening to the work of a human being. Why then am I annoyed that I am going to do what I’m made for, the very things for which I was put into this world?”

-Marcus Aurelius

Tuesday: Prepare Yourself for Negativity

I know that these wrong-doers are still akin to me- and that none can do me harm, or implicate me in ugliness- nor can I be angry at others or hate them, for we are made for cooperation.

-Marcus Aurelius

Wednesday: Clarify Your Intentions

Let all your efforts be directed to something, let it keep that end in view. It’s not activity that disturbs people, but false conceptions of things that drive them mad.

-Seneca

Thursday: Be Ruthless to Things That Don’t Matter

How many have laid waste to your life when you weren’t aware of what you were losing? How much was wasted in pointless grief, foolish joy, greedy desire, and social amusements? How little of your own was left to you?

-Seneca

Friday: Turn “Have to” to “Get to”

The task of a philosopher: we should bring our will into harmony with whatever happens, so that nothing happens against our will and nothing that we wish for fails to happen.

-Epictetus

Saturday: Take a Walk

We should take wandering outdoor walks so that the mind might be nourished and refreshed by the open air and deep breathing.

-Seneca

Sunday: A Week in Review

I will keep constant watch over myself and- most usefully- will put up each day for review.

Immunity

I was in the kitchen cleaning my Hydroflask, dragging a wet washcloth around the ridges of the lid and mouth, when my son walked in.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I looked up. “Cleaning my Hydroflask.” I pointed. “See these ridges around the lid and the mouth? They collect dirt, grime and mildew. You have to be vigilant, especially in the summer.”

His face was blank, an expression I knew very well, so I asked him:

“Don’t you ever clean your Hydroflask?”

Him:

“Ever? You’ve owned it for years, you use it every day. NEVER?”

Him:

“Oh my God, clean it right now. Do you have any idea what could be inside it?”

He shrugged.

“It’ll build my immune system.”

“Huh? How?”

“Dunno, it just will.”

Blown away by his lack of scientific acumen, I watched him walk away looking very pleased with himself. Later that week I commented that the air conditioning unit in their man cave had been pumping out mold spores into their lungs for the past eight years and that perhaps it was time for them to purchase a new one before the onset of Legionnaires’ disease. I got the line again.

“Nah, it’ll be good for our immune systems”

This continued on for several weeks.

Me: “Your bedroom is so messy.”

“It builds my immune system.”

Me: “Did you check the expiration date on that mayonnaise?”

“No. It’ll build my immune system.”

Me: “Honey, don’t stuff yourself, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Good for the immune system.”

Me: “You guys don’t get enough sleep.”

“It’ll toughen us up. Good for the immune system.”

Recently I have raised the temperature on the upstairs thermostat, which has met with some groans and grumbles.

“Mom, it’s so hot in our rooms. Can you lower the thermostat, just a little? Why is it so high?”

It’s good for the immune system.

Advice from the Stoics

A client asked me last night, “What’s your secret?”

Take that as you will.

I will answer today with some advice from the Stoics. Here are seven things the Stoics implore humans never do:

Don’t be overheard complaining. I don’t complain about relationships, the weather, myself, life, people, and money, and never, ever, ever around people at work. Maybe I’ll quietly vent a little with a close friend or a family member, but even these small lapses from joy can mar a day. I keep my words and language clear, positive and consistent. Don’t go by my writing, as I am a humorist, and complaining is all in good fun and funnier than sunshine and rainbows.

Don’t talk more than you listen. I have out-of-body experiences when dealing with clients, and lose myself in their stories, their words, and their lifeforce. If they try to bring the conversation back to me, I answer politely and immediately bring it back to them. I actually find myself incredibly boring but hysterical, which is amusing when you consider the fact that this is my personal blog.

Don’t tie your identity to things you own. I used to tell my students who would complain about where they lived, or how they dressed to never define themselves by such things. Same goes for possessions like boats and vacation houses and businesses. Who cares? Live from inside.

Don’t compare yourself to others. I am not intimidated about walking into any room. Not a room filled with billionaires, not a room filled with famous athletes, not a room filled with great writers. I compare myself to no one.

Don’t judge others. Speaks for itself. He who is without sin throw the first stone?

Don’t suffer imagined troubles. Ninety-percent of our problems are in our minds. I ask myself: what problems do I have right now? Usually the answer is: None. How lucky am I not receive a phone call that my child has a terminal illness? Live for the moment, not what you think might happen.

Don’t overindulge. Not in food, alcohol, sex (tough one), clothing (tougher!!). Be content with a little.

A little goes a long way.

Erma

Hi. Sorry about Friday. If you read my Wednesday post, please be reassured that if you were reading my hypothetical beauty blog and compulsively adding up my monthly beauty expenses, you are waaaaaay off. Of course I don’t spend that amount of money on beauty and appearance every month. Please look up the word “hypothetical.”

I’m cheating today. I wasn’t going to share this until after Labor Day, but the house is empty and I want to take advantage by doing some important personal writing. So here’s a quick announcement.

Maybe you know about this, and maybe you don’t. Maybe you care, and maybe you don’t. But I have referred to my TED-talk as the second most important thing that has ever happened to my career.

The following is the first.

Press releases went out about it, and some local outlets picked it up. Some didn’t. Those last will not be granted an interview when I am a famous screenwriter. 

Yes, I’m that level of petty. Just watch me. 

In October I will be in Ohio for three weeks to accept an award, give a keynote, and observe and teach at the University of Dayton. I’m no name-dropper, but if I was, boy could I namedrop who I will be meeting with, sitting with and laughing with for this conference.

Thanks as always if you’re interested in me, I appreciate it. Enjoy.

Finding Comedy in a Hotel Room

 

Upkeep

Have people lost interest in personal grooming since the pandemic? It seems to me that when I look around in church, in the supermarket and in the restaurants, some people just look…haggard. Certain folk seem to not care about presentation anymore.

Ratty stretched out sweatpants in mass? Really?

Garish grown-out highlights?

Old chipped pedicures?

Granted, not everyone is as vain as I. Think how vain I must be, then multiply it by a zillion. I’ve said it before: if I had a hundred-dollar bill left to my name, and I had a choice between the supermarket or the mall, off to Nordstrom I would go. If I’m going out, I’m going out looking hot.

So say people are sacrificing personal grooming because of the economy. Mm-k. Let’s have fun and play hypothetically: if I couldn’t afford upkeep for myself, what would I sacrifice?

Twice a month pedicures plus tip= $120.00

Give up: Air conditioning/heat on the second level of the house=$120.00

Highlights every 8 weeks= $250.00 a month

Give up: Specialty grocery store trips for four Sundays= 250.00 a month

Cosmetics= $200.00 a month

Give up: Planting extra flowers on the side of the garage: = $200.00

Twice a month light spray tan= $120.00

Give up: Fancy drive-through Platinum car wash 2x a month= $120.00

Eyebrow/lip waxing= $80.00

Give up: 10 fall Yankee candles= $80.00

Gym membership= $50.00 a month

Give up: Pizza delivery= $50.00

Native deodorants= $30.00 a month

Give up: Premium gas= $30.00 amassed over a month

Wardrobe refreshes monthly= $200.00

Give up: Grocery shopping.

I’m serious about the last one. When you skip grocery shopping, it’s amazing what you realize you already have. I’ve made some pretty spectacular meals this summer with ingredients already sitting in my pantry.

When it comes down to it, the rumor is true: there IS food at home.

Leftovers

In the world of comedy writing, “clams” are phrases that do not originate from the writer. Rather, they are catchphrases that have circulated on the internet for years, or ones that have been heard a zillion times after originating from a sitcom or a movie. Here are a few clams:

You had me at hello. (Or good-bye, or tacos, or beach house, or whatever phrase some hack deems funny, and never is).

NOT!

Talk to the hand.

That’s what she said.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

These phrases are so hackneyed that any writer who uses them should be professionally assassinated, and any writer who is not offended by them should find a new line of work. They exist so far from their original origin that it would be akin to saying Funions are onions, or that Cheetos are cheese.

I avoid them at all cost, and as I write my screenplay that needs to be ready for, oh, OCTOBER (gulp), at the end of every page I look back and make sure there are no stinky clams on the page.

But allow me to indulge in one today as I discuss sample clubs:

I was today years old when I realized that sample clubs are just leftover crap that no one will buy. CEOs deliver them to you in a pretty box and call them a “club.” Let’s take a cosmetic delivery club, for instance. Here must have been the conversation:

Head of Merchandising: So Phil, we have six million samples left. What do you want to do with them? No one wants to buy one small hair oil sample, or one mini-mascara.

CEO: Hm. How about selling them as part of a club?

HoM: How do you mean?

CEO: We’ll package ten to twelve samples into a pretty box, and deliver them to “members” every month. Make it seem like a great deal. We get rid of our crap, they think they’re members of an elite club.

HoM: Brilliant, Philly. I guess that’s why you get paid the big bucks.

(That was another clam)

I fell for this trick four times.

Once was with the aforementioned cosmetic sample club, a failure I managed to turn into a success by keeping the hundreds of samples I received in my travel cosmetic bag. Every time I travel, I use about a dozen of the samples. The pile is shrinking considerably.

The second time was the J. Crew Shoe-of-the-Month club, where I received a new pair of shoes every month for one year. I never knew what the shoes would be, just that they would be “professional.” It was outrageously expensive, but all I wanted for Christmas. I still have some of those shoes, as they were Italian made, and therefore last forever.

The third time was a Healthy Snack Club, where you receive pre-portioned calorie counted snack packs every week with items like dried fruit, nuts, and dark chocolates. I liked this club. When my snack packs would arrive, I could just throw them into my school bag. Then I realized I could make my own snack mix much cheaper.

The last time I fell for this was Stitch Fix, a company that sent me a box of ugly sale clothing once a week, clothing that no one would even buy when it came out new. I was horrified by the cheap merchandise, and quickly shut down my account when in my second box I received boot cut jeans, a peasant blouse, and clunky cowboy style boots.

I had filled out the questionnaire, and I thought they knew me. No personal stylist working for me would ever think I would wear such a get-up.

Did I say that out loud?

Friday Thoughts

Tupac:

“Just because you lost me as a friend doesn’t mean you gained me as an enemy.

I am bigger than that.

I still wanna see you eat. Just not at my table.”

Kobe:

People won’t notice the:

Late nights.

Early mornings.

Self-doubt.

Risks.

Failures.

Obstacles.

They will only see your results and call you lucky. Don’t expect them to understand.

The Rock:

2 days of procrastination can destroy 2 months of discipline.

Business Magnets:

Drug dealers never consume.

The CEO of Pepsi was recorded saying he’d never let his family touch any of their products.

Mark Zuckerberg puts tape over his laptop’s camera and microphone.

Steve Jobs banned his kids from using the iPad.

Bill Gates strictly limited his children’s tech time.

The CEO of McDonald’s claims he doesn’t even eat his own company’s food.

But you’re still consuming all of their shit. Bon appetite.

Cuteness

(Note: my domain will be undergoing an update in five days, but since I don’t understand the parameters, I need to talk to someone in person. So if my website goes offline at any time, I’m aware of it, and will take care of it as soon as I can).

When the hell did I become “cute?”

There’s little girl “cute.” You know, hair bows and braids and pigtails and pink light-up sandals. There’s kitten and baby bunny “cute,” complete with soft fluff and wide-eyed innocence. And there are other kinds.

“Oh, that outfit is so cute!”

“That is such a cute idea!”

“What a cute picture!”

I honestly can’t think of anymore ways the word “cute” is appropriate. So how the hell did I reach “cute” status?

I’ve been getting it a lot lately, not in the good way (is there a good way?) and I’m wracking my brain to try and figure out what I’m doing that is so “cute.” It’s not exactly what I’m going for.

I’m not a “cute” professor. I’m rather terrifying, actually, or so I’ve been told.

I’m not a “cute” mom. See above.

I don’t dress “cute.” My style is modern, classic, sophisticated. I never ever wear pink, or bows, or ruffles, or anything that pre or post-dates me.

I don’t speak “cute.” I’m articulate. I don’t use youthful slang, or that annoying soft baby voice that young girls get away with.

I don’t write “cute.” I don’t like Chicken Soup for the Soul books, or romance novels. I’m edgy, and racy. I’d be more likely to write porn than a love poem.

I don’t act “cute.” How does one even act cute? Girls in their early twenties can still get away with that, so I’ll leave it to them.

I don’t work “cute.” Let’s leave it at that. Cute has no place in the workplace.

It is not men calling me “cute.” Men know I’m more than “cute.” It’s mostly twenty-something girls. I guess I remind them of their moms, so I don’t fault them, but they have to stop.

I’m not cute. Maybe one day. But not yet.

But just as I sometimes refer to men and women in their eighties as “cute,” they see me the same. To them I am a cute older lady managing to navigate the world that now belongs to them.

I get it. But it ain’t so cute.

Vibing

One of the cardinal rules of blogging is never to tell your readers how busy you are, because it implies you’re too busy for them. So I won’t use that as an excuse for not posting on Wednesday.

But posting on Wednesdays has proven to be challenging this summer. So there is that.

Until next week, I’m tired. The delicious kind of tired, when every bone and sinew in your body knows you have finished your week at the most optimally positive and productive way possible.

Great week, ya’ll.

So enjoy this video, my newest favorite song to sing on my way to work to get my daily vibe going. More on that later.

Have a great time this weekend.