In fact, when you think about it, or the alternatives, bitching is downright good for you.
When you hold in all that anger, all that frustration, what do you get? An ulcer. Or high blood pressure. Or a serial killer. You're like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off.
But by bitching (or kvetching, or grumbling, or complaining, or venting*) about that jerk who cut you off on your way to work, or your computer crashing right in the middle of typing that important paper, or why you seem to be the only person in the house who is able to change a roll of toilet paper (or load/unload the dishwasher, or put shit away, or do laundry, or clean up), or how no one ever reads your blog posts, or how your football team sucks, or -- you get the idea -- you release all that stress and frustration and negative energy into the ether and can begin the healing process.
[Deep breath in through the nose... vent out through the mouth. Aaaaaah.]
Of course, like everything else in life, you should bitch, or complain, or vent in moderation. (Nobody likes a whiner.) Preferably to someone who loves or cares about you, or whom you are paying, who will be a good listener, and will not tell you to "relax," or "chill out," or "what you should do is," which will only result in more anger and frustration and... bitching.
This has been a public service announcement.
*Did you know the English language has over three dozen words, or synonyms, for complain?
It's Monday at 4. I've been up since 3:30 a.m. (neighbor's alarm went off... again) and can barely focus. And I can barely type because a glass exploded in my hand yesterday afternoon, slicing the top of the middle finger of my right hand. (Fortunately, I do not believe I need stitches, but it hurts like heck.) So about the only thing I'm capable of doing at this point is watching cat videos -- and blogging about watching cat videos.
First up, "CAT LOGIC," from Cole and Marmalade:
Next, a topic near and dear to me (in fact as I type this, my black cat, Felix, is sitting in my lap, rubbing up against me), "What it's like to work with cats!" also from Cole and Marmalade.
Hey, at least I'm not blogging about Ebola or the mid-term elections.
As all of you J-TWO-O blog readers know, the spouse and I have a running debate about how to load (or not load) the dishwasher. A debate that apparently rages at a lot of other houses as well, including fictional ones, like the Johnsons on black-ish, the new ABC sitcom about a successful, two-income African-American family (who have been likened to the Huxtables of The Cosby Show).
I laughed out loud at this scene, titled "Dre Wants Credit from His Wife [for loading the dishwasher]."
If only his wife, Rainbow, had had Man Medals, a brilliant idea for the man who feels he deserves an award for changing the toilet paper roll, taking out the garbage, or emptying the dishwasher (though there is no Man Medal for loading the dishwasher -- for a reason).
There also isn't a Man Medal for making the bed, which the spouse did all by himself yesterday! (Next time you can post a photo on Facebook, honey.)
Or for doing the laundry, or the dishes, or mowing the lawn -- things, which I have heard rumors, some guys do (without their wives even having to ask!).
Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh. After all, the spouse does help out with grocery shopping. And he helps clean up after dinner, and he does take out the garbage and fix our computers. (Thank you, honey!)
And, I admit, like the wife/mother on black-ish, and a lot (all) women I know, I like things done a certain way -- my way. And I hate mess, or disorganization. So I wind up doing and taking care of stuff. Just because. And I don't expect a medal.
Yet when a man does one thing, like changing a diaper, or taking the kids to school, or baking cupcakes, he expects -- and often gets, from friends and coworkers -- an effing ticker-tape parade.Which pisses me off.
So, ladies (and guys), how's that Women's Liberation thing working out for all of you?
After changing diapers or cleaning up a child who has used the toilet
After blowing your nose, coughing, or sneezing
After touching an animal, animal feed, or animal waste
After touching garbage
(You paying attention, honey?)
Equally important is how you wash your hands, which, according to numerous studies, most of us don't do properly. So how do you wash your hands properly? Again, according to the CDC (and health professionals), to properly wash your hands you should:
Wet your hands with clean, running water (warm or cold), turn off the tap, and apply soap.
Lather your hands by rubbing them together with the soap -- lathering the backs of your hands, between your fingers, and under your nails.
Scrub your hands for at least 20 seconds -- the time it takes to sing the "Happy Birthday" song from beginning to end twice.
Rinse your hands well under clean, running water.
Dry your hands using a clean towel, paper towel, or hand dryer them UNTIL THEY ARE COMPLETELY DRY as germs love moisture.
Don't have access to running water, soap, and a towel? Use hand sanitizer. (I carry a bottle with me at all times -- and make the spouse and teenager carry a bottle with them, too.)
And no excuses! If astronauts can wash their hands in space...
As some of you may recall, two weeks ago the teenager acquired a driver's license -- and my nine-year-old Mini Cooper. At the time, I was rather stressed out, first about her road test, because the teenager was so stressed out, and I literally felt her anxiety (and yes, I am using literal in the literal sense). Then because OMG! MY DAUGHTER HAD HER DRIVER'S LICENSE AND WAS DRIVING... MY CAR! At 16!
[And she'll have fun, fun, fun 'til her mommy takes her Mini away.]
As a child of New York City (i.e., Manhattan), I had zero interest in acquiring a driver's license or a car when I was 16... or 17. Why go through the hassle when you can walk, or take the bus, or the subway, or a taxi anywhere? Indeed, in New York (i.e., Manhattan) a car was a burden, and a big expense, where people paid more for monthly parking than they did in rent.
It was only because my father INSISTED that I learn how to drive before I went off to college that I took driving lessons at the end of my senior year of high school. And let me tell you, learning how to drive in Manhattan is not for the faint of heart (nor is the New York Department of Motor Vehicles -- shudder). And even though I did, in fact, acquire my driver's license before heading off to college, I had zero desire to drive in the City (and still don't).
However, I realize that in the suburbs, especially where we live, being able to drive gives teenagers a sense of freedom and independence. Not unlike the feeling(s) I and my friends had being able to get around the City on our own.
So now each afternoon, instead of rushing off to school to pick her up, or take her to the gym or some other activity, I sit alone in my office, typing on my computer, my cat napping in my lap, repeatedly glancing at my mobile phone, waiting for her to text me where she is and that she is okay, and waiting to see or hear the Mini.
And I wait. And I watch. And I wonder.... How did she get to be so big, so independent, so grown up? What happened to my little girl?
[Alternate title: Pumpkin Spice: The Meme That Wouldn't Die]
Welcome to another Pumpkin Spice Season, that special time of year, formerly known as October, where everything is flavored with that magical, mystical seasoning known as "pumpkin spice" (what we in our house still refer to as "cinnamon" and "ginger")
I admit, there was a time, many years ago, when I looked forward to having a Pumpkin Spice Latte (now known simply by the abbreviation PSL to the pumpkin spice and Starbucks cognoscenti), back before Pumpkin Spice became a meme.
I don't know about all of you, but by this time on Monday, I am in dire need of a cute and/or funny cat (or dog) video. So as a public service, I give you the best cat and dog videos you will find online this month. (You're welcome.)
First up, "Ouvrez-Moi," wherein a cat attempts to convince a male human to open the door... in French (with English subtitles). Love this video.
And speaking of strange cats, this cat apparently loves to be vacuumed. (Our cats enjoy a good lint rolling, but vacuuming? Uh, no.)
Next, the reason the spouse and I are not getting a St. Bernard... even though they are very sweet dogs.
Finally, the award for Cutest Beagle Video of the Month goes to KLM, for "Lost & Found Service."
Makes you almost want to leave something on the plane next time you fly KLM.
I started this blog to amuse myself, my friends, and my family. If you are not amused, just click on some other blog. You got millions to choose from. If you are amused, spread the word -- and the link! To contact me, send an email to moodyqt33 [at symbol] hotmail.com.