Dear Summer lovers,
No one loves the summer time more than I do. Some would describe me as cold blooded (literally and emotionally) so hot humid conditions do not phase me in the least. I'm like a lizard laying out on a rock. Don't get me wrong, Autumn is still my favorite with it's warm days and crisp nights, but when the days are running long and cold beverages are involved I'm a happy camper.
Having said that there are few of my brethren out there I'd like to have a quick word with so as to ensure we are all going to have a safe, comfortable, and relatively painless time as we celebrate the season.
1.) Dear Baby Girls.... You've heard me say it before, you're going to hear me say it again. You are all beautiful but sometimes you need to leave some things to the imagination. Let me speak plainly, put some clothes on. Yes, I'm jealous you can hide your phone, cash, credit cards, and a taser in your cleavage. I know you're hiding it there because your shirt is almost open to your knees or your bikini top is more like two eye patches. Please do all your sisters and mature brothers a favor and put those twins away before they hurt somebody...most likely you. You're sending the wrong message about who you are and what you really want which is likely just someone to like you, tell you that you're lovely, and valuable. We don't need to visit with the "twins" to figure that out. Also, I don't care how much you profess to be working on your fitness, those lacey booty shorts are not biking shorts. You're going to catch a chaff so harsh you won't want anyone to look or touch. I'm just saying.
2.) Couples at the pool.... I'm so glad y'all found one another. I'm glad there is "chemistry" in your relationship. But latching on to your significant other and riding them like a sea sponge around the pool while my babies are splashing in their floaties two feet away kind of makes me cringe. Furthermore, pinning them up against the pool wall really should be something reserved for behind closed doors. Again, some things need to be left to the imagination. Most people do not want the images of your PDA burned into their retinas while they're sipping poolside, and let's be real... aren't there enough fluids already swimming around in that pool? Again, I'm just saying please, please have some modesty and decency.
3.) Final shout out to my sun worshipers out there... I love a good tan as much as the next person. I remember laying in the sun for hours growing up and getting deep, nice brown tans. A little color never hurt anyone. I must say though as I have gotten old(er) I've grown more cautious about intentionally working on my tan. Watching several good friends, some younger than I, have cancerous spots removed and now seeing the wrinkles, freckles, and sunspots popping up on my body from my young and fun days, I would encourage you to put on some sunscreen or invest in a good umbrella. I don't want my nice leather MK bag to blend in with you while we're out shopping together. Capiche?
Keep a couple of cold beverages and a hot dog in the fridge for me ok? Y'all are always welcome to come by for a nice ice cream treat or some cool lemonade if you're out this way. Around here we don't lock the doors when crazy shows up. We invite it up on the porch and break out the good stuff.
Happy summer compadres!
LJ
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Friday, June 3, 2016
The (struggle) bus driver....
Dear Mr. Struggle Bus Driver,
I bet you didn't wake up at the age of 10 and say, "Someday people are going to ride the struggle bus everyday, and I'm going to be the driver."
I bet when you were 10 years old the struggle bus didn't even exist. But here we are. Every day thousands of people supposedly stand in sad dejected lines waiting for you to pick them up.
Today, I'm one of them.
Don't you get angry your bus doesn't play fun mariachi music like an ice cream truck? That people don't run screaming after you wanting you to stop because you bring them sheer joy? .... Oh wait, they do run up behind you because they're tired, they overslept, and are about to be late for work.
Bet you wish they would add some mirrors to this machine so folks would stop accusing you of backing up and running over them. We need to call the company on that one.
This bus reminds me of a small town. Everybody knows your name. And you're like the local bar tender. Someone steps up on that bottom step and you can see it in their face. Loneliness. Rejection from their peers or their latest crush. Didn't get the promotion. Lost their job. Lost their dog.
Then there are the ones that sit behind your seat. They're on the bus frequently. Depressed. A failed marriage. A wayward child. Dissatisfaction with their work. Searching for a purpose. Searching for meaning.
You never ask too many questions. You never offer sage words of advice. You simply listen as we cry on your shoulder and sniffle to our fellow riders about our problems and how we feel inadequate to fix them.
I feel sorry for us Mr. Driver and I feel sorry for you because whether we want to admit it or not, most of us are choosing to sit on this bus rather than try to fix the problem or change our circumstances.
I hope we will choose to change our hearts, our jobs, our schedules and whatever else that keeps us dragging to your stop.
In the kindest way possible, I hope you lose your job old compadre and become a margarita truck driver instead.
Lendy
I bet you didn't wake up at the age of 10 and say, "Someday people are going to ride the struggle bus everyday, and I'm going to be the driver."
I bet when you were 10 years old the struggle bus didn't even exist. But here we are. Every day thousands of people supposedly stand in sad dejected lines waiting for you to pick them up.
Today, I'm one of them.
Don't you get angry your bus doesn't play fun mariachi music like an ice cream truck? That people don't run screaming after you wanting you to stop because you bring them sheer joy? .... Oh wait, they do run up behind you because they're tired, they overslept, and are about to be late for work.
Bet you wish they would add some mirrors to this machine so folks would stop accusing you of backing up and running over them. We need to call the company on that one.
This bus reminds me of a small town. Everybody knows your name. And you're like the local bar tender. Someone steps up on that bottom step and you can see it in their face. Loneliness. Rejection from their peers or their latest crush. Didn't get the promotion. Lost their job. Lost their dog.
Then there are the ones that sit behind your seat. They're on the bus frequently. Depressed. A failed marriage. A wayward child. Dissatisfaction with their work. Searching for a purpose. Searching for meaning.
You never ask too many questions. You never offer sage words of advice. You simply listen as we cry on your shoulder and sniffle to our fellow riders about our problems and how we feel inadequate to fix them.
I feel sorry for us Mr. Driver and I feel sorry for you because whether we want to admit it or not, most of us are choosing to sit on this bus rather than try to fix the problem or change our circumstances.
I hope we will choose to change our hearts, our jobs, our schedules and whatever else that keeps us dragging to your stop.
In the kindest way possible, I hope you lose your job old compadre and become a margarita truck driver instead.
Lendy
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