Can't Argue With That

We've moved!!!!

2010-06-01T14:46:00.003-05:00

Can't Argue With That can now be found on the official Emily Steele website at www.emilysteele.com . Please come visit us there!

Come Hell or High Water

2010-05-11T06:52:00.011-05:00

I decided to take a break from my typical, side-splitting laughter-inducing blog entries to write something of a more serious nature. It seems in light of recent events in my part of the world, it is only appropriate that I take a moment to give the just attention to these occurrences, which has, for some reason, been denied by most of the rest of the country.

If you're from Tennessee or even Kentucky, you know about the devastating floods that swept through the state just over 3 weeks ago. If you're from any of the other 48 states, you probably don't. I won't even begin to speculate to as why the largest, non-hurricane natural disaster this nation has ever seen (at least as far back as we've been keeping records), which claimed 31 lives and impacted thousands more than that, received virtually no national media coverage. I can't conjure up a possible explanation for why when I sent out a mass email to my out-of-state friends and family, reassuring them that I was alright, the overwhelming response was, "About what?" But whining and carrying on about how Nashville and the rest of the state were virtually ignored by every major news source, with the exception of The Weather Channel, is not my point in writing this blog. (Although I couldn't resist getting it in there!) My point is to give thanks and praise for the amazing city I am so proud to call home. I had fallen in love with Nashville when I first loaded up my little, gray Honda and moved down here. And now, six years later, I am more bold than ever to say, I am a Nashvillian.

I grew up in upstate New York so I've lived through my share of natural disasters that took on more of the sub-zero temperatures and white-out conditions. And it's not to say that New Yorkers don't ban together to help each other out in such times. I definitely recall stories of people being stranded on the New York State Thruway, back during the blizzard of 2000, and huddling up in cars with people they'd never met so they could all conserve gasoline and avoid freezing to death. I always remember our next-door neighbor coming over during those winter white-outs and snow blowing our driveway, because the snow blower sitting in our garage hadn't worked since before I was conceived! But never in my life have I seen a community response to a tragedy like I did here in Nashville when the floods hit.

When the rains finally stopped Monday morning, I rushed right over to Kroger (our major grocery store chain) to buy supplies to donate to Red Cross emergency shelters that had popped up all over the city. Basic necessities like shampoo, razors, toilet paper, pet food (we often forget that pets are rescued during these disasters too and need supplies, just like people do), and non-perishables food items. I was astonished to find the shelves virtually empty, due to the fact that so many other people had beaten me to it. That Tuesday, I went up the high school where I work. The county had been hit pretty hard and been declared an official disaster area, but by some miracle, my school was undamaged. Instead, it was being used as a shelter. Since school had been canceled for the week, I decided to go volunteer my services at the shelter. When I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to find that most of the flood victims had left, having been taken in by other friends and family. I also found many of my students there, sorting through clothing, cleaning bathrooms, serving food, and lugging supplies back and forth to different areas of the school. Wednesday, I decided that, with my background as a veterinary technician, perhaps my services would be put to best use at one of the local animals shelters that had taken in rescue animals. I called three different shelters only to be told that they had more volunteers than they knew what to do with! Wow...what an amazing city where rescue organizations have more volunteers than they can use!

And that's not even the thing that makes me most proud. While I find it amazing that so many people jumped up and seized the opportunity to assist their neighbors, there almost wasn't anything for me to do to help, I was even more taken in by the things and services people have thought of. Being somewhat of an animal activist, my first thought is almost always to pets that need rescuing during times of disaster. And usually, they are an after-thought to the people who need services. But by Tuesday afternoon, the Nashville Humane Society had been given so many pet food and litter donations that they were literally spilling out the door! For Mother's Day, which was the following Sunday, people went to shelters and gave out roses to all the mothers who were staying there. I even got several emails from wedding venues offering emergency venue relocation services for brides and grooms whose venues were destroyed by the floods. Sure that doesn't seem like an important thing....unless you happened to be getting married in the weeks after these floods and you not only lost all your deposit money, but you had nowhere to have your wedding either. No, Oprah didn't come here to do a segment for her show. But we didn't need her to. Nashvillians took care of their own, making sure that everyone's needs, no matter how insignificant they might've seemed to outsiders, were taken care of.

So now, the rebuilding process begins. It's been 3 weeks and most Nashville business that flooded have reopened, countless flood-relief concerts and other benefit-type shows have been held, and millions of dollars have been raised (mostly by our own residents). We are well on our road to recovery. I'm certainly not saying people will ever fully get over what happened. Some people will never be able to recoup the things they've lost. And no one will ever forget the historic flood that nearly sunk our city, but never dampened our spirits. But I know, at least for me, the events of May 1st and 2nd will forever be a reminder of why I am proud to say......I am a Nashvillian!

Dream Row Magazine

2010-03-31T10:41:00.002-05:00

I just want to apologize to all my faithful readers for my hiatus the past few weeks. Due to the overwhelming popularity of this blog, I have been asked to be a writer for the new online publication, Dream Row Magazine. This is a freelance position but it does require me to write new articles twice a week, so it's been keeping me pretty busy. I promise I will still be blogging my "Can't Argue With That" column, but I apologize in advance if my entries are more sporadic over the next few months. Thank you again to all of you who keep coming back to "Can't Argue With That". It's awesome to know my opinions are tolerated! Please check out my articles at www.dreamrow.com and keep coming back for new ones. I bet you'll find that you like it and you can't argue with that!

Is That a Pole Between Her Legs...?

2010-03-05T09:09:00.006-06:00

I mentioned in my previous blog how I possess esteemed membership in the elite organization known as "the guys". Over the years, this membership has granted me access to any and all testosterone-exclusive events....with one exception. Even though I was affectionately dubbed as the "cool dude with long hair", there was one ritual of male bonding that my ovaries and I were not permitted to partake in: The Canadian Ballet. Better known to non-Buffalonians as the strip club. (I don't know why they call it that. Perhaps if I had been allowed to go, I might have an answer!)

I didn't know this clause in my contract even existed until one summer when everyone was making plans for our friend, Monty's, birthday. Nathan suggested a serious beer pong tournament at our apartment, for the coveted belt. But Allen and Jason had other plans in mind. After several intense seconds of debate, it was decided that the guys would take Monty across the border for some front-row seats to see chicks and their poles. "Cool", I replied. "I've never been to a strip club before. This'll be fun!" This was followed by several moments of awkward silence, while the guys exchanged twisted looks. Barry finally delivered the blow. "Busty" (their affectionate name for my potential child-bearing self), "you can't go." I was stunned! What did they mean I couldn't go? I could go everywhere! I practically had a Y-chromosome! I was deeply offended. But as much as I protested, argued, whined, cried, pouted, and hissy-fitted, it was to no avail. There was one cardinal rule that could not be tampered with. Girls were not allowed in strip clubs, unless they were employees!

When I think back on it, I'm pretty sure that's where my deep-rooted, subconscious desire to be a pole dancer started. So five years later, when a girl friend of mine mentioned a pole dancing class she had tried, I knew my time had finally come. OK, so I wasn't really contemplating a career in exotic dancing. But the idea of learning how to move around a shiny, brass pole in a manner that men would find sexy was appealing to me. I called up Gym 5 and signed up for the "Goddess" package. I was on my way to sensual stardom.

There was just one problem. I have a severe coordination disorder. It's pretty bad, and I don't like to talk about it very often. I think I'm the only person who has ever managed to severely sprain her ankle by tripping over a water ski. I once had the wind knocked out of me during tap class. And, when I was 12, my softball coach pulled me out of a game for throwing 1 strike in 8 batters. (I probably could have lived through the humiliation of that one, except that my coach was my father!) So what in the world made me think I could excel at at something as physically demanding as pole dancing is beyond me.

The class started off with simple yoga-style warm ups. I figured I could handle that. I mean, how hard can an exercise routine involving a "relaxation pose" really be? After 30 minutes of contorting my body into poses affectionately known as "the cow", "the cat flow", and my personal favorite, "the downward-facing dog", my abs were shaking worse than an epileptic at a rave! I didn't even know I had abs until then! I was concentrating so hard on not falling on my face that the instructor had to keep reminding me to breathe! Just when I thought my legs would collapse beneath me from "the chair pose", the instructor decided it was time to move onto the poles.

Everyone starts off learning the same basic spins. The first one was called "the fireman", which believe it or not, consists of spinning around and down the pole like a fireman at a firehouse would. That one I mastered fairly easily. My grandfather would have been proud. It was the next several spins where my disability started to hold me back. After a couple rounds of spins known as "the Tinkerbelle", "the Candy Cane", and the "Camel Spin", I was so dizzy I probably would've failed a sobriety test. When I moved on to "the Do-Si-Do", which involves kicking my leg out and around the pole while only holding onto it with one hand, I lost my grip and practically flew right out the window! It was becoming painfully clear that I probably should've just audited the class.

I stuck with it, though. After a few weeks, we started to move on to climbing and inverting on the pole. This means you pretend you're a monkey or Chinese acrobat and move yourself up the pole with the tops of your feet. The prize for not ripping all the skin off your bridges is that you then get to hang upside down and panic. The idea is that you use the strength of your legs to hold yourself on the pole and hang your arms to the side like a bat. That would be all well and good if I had any strength in my legs! And I've never seen a bat with killer thighs so something tells me that's not how they do it anyway. I did attempt to take my hands off the pole, but instead of looking like a cool Twilight character, I slid slowly down the pole, burning off any skin I had left on my inner thighs, and landing on my head. Trust me when I tell you, it wasn't even the slightest bit sexy.

Sadly, I am now nearing the end of my "Goddess" package. But despite my disability, I have decided to renew my package and continue with the classes. I feel I owe it to myself and all the others who suffer from my condition. (And if any of you reading this do, please join the class so I don't look so bad!) Besides, I wasn't allowed to go to the strip clubs and see pole dancers with my boys. And I figure the old adage holds true: "If you can't beat' em, join 'em" (whether they'd want you to or not!)... and you can't argue with that!

Just One of the Guys

2010-02-18T12:38:00.012-06:00

So I met the perfect woman last night. Seriously. If I were endowed with male parts, I probably would've asked her out! She was about 5'6" with beautiful blonde hair. She was friendly and sweet and you could tell right away that she wasn't one of those stuck on herself sorority girls. I asked her what she did outside of the pole-dancing class where we met (yes, I pole dance. But that's next week's blog!) and she said she was a student at Vanderbilt, trying to graduate early, with a degree in civil engineering and a minor in math!! And if that wasn't enough to make you want to kill yourself, she was awesome on the pole! She climbed and swung around that thing with such style and grace that it almost made you believe strip clubs could be classy. Yup, she was definitely the most perfect female I'd ever met. And I couldn't wait to tell my boys about her!

You see, I'm not a K.D. Lang fan. I don't play field hockey or wear flannel. I don't "play for the other team". But something happened to me about 7 years ago that I think may have done some irreversible damage....I became one of the guys. Not in the literal sense, mind you. I still sit to pee and any of my boys could tell you that I haven't the slightest ability to aim. But in 2003, without even fully realizing it was happening, I joined the not-so-elite society of "the guys". It all started with Nathan (my identity protected male pal)*, who I met by random chance one night at a Buffalo "nightclub" when a creepy guy kept trying to hit on me and Nathan came to my rescue, pretending to be my boyfriend. A heart was crushed, a friendship was born and Nathan and I proceeded to hang out virtually every day. Then came Nathan's buddies, Allen and Barry, who as soon as we met, we all linked arms and skipped down the yellow-brick road. Sometimes Mick and Bobby would tag along. Then Jason served a short-lived stint in the group until we discovered his double life as a professional douche bag. But no matter who came along to wherever we went, one thing remained constant....I was the only one with a regular gynecologist.

And I have to tell you, I loved it! (Being one of the guys....not going to the gynecologist!) I used to feel sorry for Elaine Benes, Kate O'Brien, or Sweet Dee never having someone to go to the bathroom with or talk trash about behind her back. But I was greatly underestimating the benefits of being the odd woman out in a gang of testosterone. The times I had as a full-fledged member of "the guys" were some of the best of my life. Not to mention all the important life lessons I learned. Before my boys, I never knew that cheap beer tastes better when chugged. I found that overly revealing outfits actually make a girl less approachable. It turns out that liquor greatly increases the odds of hitting a double bull's eye, a flush beats a straight, a blue shell can completely turn a game of Mario Kart around, winning at beer pong is all in the wrist, Armageddon is not a bad movie, and a two-point conversion is only successful 48% of the time. I learned what qualities make up the perfect woman, that I am capable of remaining rational in an emotional situation, and most importantly, how to honor the sacred "bros before hoes" code.

It's been a few years since I've been an active bro. I moved to Nashville several years ago and most of them still have the unfortunate fate of living in western New York. I've settled into a network of friends who raid the clearance racks, worry about looking fat in pictures, and get bikini waxes. And I'm not complaining! I thoroughly enjoy my girls' nights of watching Beaches, drinking wine, complaining about cramps, and trading stories about "that stupid bitch" we work with! But sometimes, I long for an Irish car bomb, some dirty jokes, and a good game of A@#hole. I only get to be a "bro" once or twice a year now, but I look forward to those times all year long. Hey boys.....I miss you!

And let me tell you that you all would have been drooling over this girl I met at pole dancing class! She was the perfect woman....and trust me, you can't argue with that!

P.S. I apologize if this blog lacks the side-splitting humor of my previous blog. Allen has been in the hospital for the past 2 weeks and it's made me a tad sentimental. Anyway, he's going home today so hopefully those laugh-on-the-floor-while-you-try-not-to-pee-your-pants blogs will return next week!

*Again. for those new readers who have accidentally stumbled onto my blog in recent weeks, I give everyone mentioned in my blog fake names so as to protect their identity from possible embarrassment of association with me.

Always a Bridesmaid, Finally the Bride

2010-01-30T14:58:00.005-06:00

Well, I must apologize for my prolonged absence from this blog. I know it's been a difficult month for you, not having access to my well-researched opinions on current affairs. But alas, I am back! So you may all breathe a long-anticipated sigh of relief....Emily's inarguable arguments have returned.

The reason for my extended absence is rather inconceivable. In a world where many climates are reaching record-low temperatures during a global warming epidemic, where people pretend their children have been carried off in a balloon in an attempt to get their own reality show, and in which Alec Baldwin has a hit TV series, something even more unbelievable has happened....I have gotten engaged.

That's right. It's finally happened. After years of racking up enough bridesmaid dresses to give Katherine Heigl's character in 27 Dresses a run for her money, I finally get to be the one with a cheap, plastic replica of myself on top of a 4-tiered buttercream cake. Like most females, I have been dreaming about walking down the aisle ever since...well....I could walk down the hallway! So as soon as Derek got up from his knee outside that public restroom off of Interstate 81, I began planning. Little did I know, I was already way behind.

I remember secretly mocking those friends of mine who started planning their weddings before they were officially engaged. As in, they already had churches, reception halls, and videographers booked and had distributed their bridesmaid gown requirements to me before their boyfriends had even begun layaway plans at Zales. (I hope neither one of them is reading this, because I'm not making this up!) At the time, I stuck my nose up at the thought of how far they were jumping the gun. But now it seems the joke is, in fact, on me. It is now their turn to laugh sadistically as I scramble to find an affordable DJ and a florist who is available on a mere 9-months notice. (Well, at least the one who is still married gets to laugh!)

Seriously, with all the stress of finding a photographer who won't charge me 2 grand for a dozen pictures or a church that will overlook the fact that we may have slacked off in our Sunday worship routine for the past 237 weeks, I haven't even had time to notice how beautiful that diamond looks on my left hand! I'm so busy agonizing over whether we should serve chicken or steak at the reception and figuring out what possessions I can sell in order to pay the $850 that my dress is going to cost, that I've nearly forgotten what Derek looks like. Now it all makes perfect sense. Those girls planned their weddings ahead of time so they could actually enjoy being engaged! Who would have known that these impatient princesses were actually brilliant, strategic minds plotting a giant victory in the war of the wedding plans?

I admit, I mocked them at first, but I have now become a full-fledged advocate of their cause. After attempting the more traditional path, I now say plan the wedding then get engaged. After all the sleep I've lost trying to do it in reverse...I can't argue with that!

Stressing for Christmas

2009-12-05T16:46:00.004-06:00

Now don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love Christmas. I truly believe it is the most wonderful time of the year. Everyone’s house is beautifully decorated with colorful lights or dull and boring white ones. People smile at me in the check out line at Walmart, instead of running me over with their carts to beat me to the “speed-thru line”. Friends and colleagues are giving me frosted, green and red, sugar cookies. Radio stations play “White Christmas” until I think I might actually vomit snow. The ACLU is trying to make everyone call them “holiday trees” to avoid offending all the non-Christians who decorate them this month. No, I certainly can’t deny the warm feeling I get starting the moment I finish my Thanksgiving pumpkin pie to the day I finally return all the clothes my mother thought were “so me”.

But, I can’t suppress the other feeling I get after I’ve finished the last piece of Halloween candy that didn’t find its way into a trick-or-treater’s sack. That sudden wave of nausea in my stomach. The tightness in my chest from the inability to breathe steadily. The clumps of hair that mysteriously wind up in the center of my fists. That dreadful feeling that somehow someone has stolen pages from my yearly calendar because it could not possibly be here already. We all know what I am talking about. Holiday stress! That mix of emotion between Christmas cheer and Christmas I-want-to-bang-my-head-into-a-wall-‘til-New Year’s.

Come on now. I work a full-time job. I own my own business which takes up most of the remaining 16 hours of my day. I have 5 four-legged children to take care of, one of whom does not use a litter box. Plus, I require at least 6 hours of sleep to prevent my turbo-bitch side from surfacing. (So we’re already up to a necessary 29-hour day.) I do all this while also attempting to keep friends and relatives occasionally reminded of what I look like and now I’m supposed to throw Christmas into the mix too?! You’ve got to be kidding me.

How the heck does anyone find time for fighting the Target crowds over the last two blu-ray players in the entire world? Who can actually wrap a teddy bear? What people seriously have the leisure of sitting through Rachel Ray’s “Holiday Eats” episodes and go into the kitchen and reenact what they witnessed? Who manages to create a magnificent electrical display on their front lawn using only the lights from the previous 16 Christmases? Why would anyone want to drink eggnog? Where are all the people like me who have no idea what dancing visions of sugar plums would look like because they haven’t slept all season?

I don’t know if I can take it another year. I think for 2009, I’ll hire someone to celebrate Christmas for me. I haven’t had a free moment to consider what I'd like from Santa anyway! So if you’re looking for any gift ideas for me, a Holiday Celebratory Specialist would be perfect. How can I argue with that?

Holding Out For a "Heroes"

2009-11-14T15:50:00.009-06:00

So about a year and a half ago, I was somehow suckered into watching the pilot episode of Heroes. My friend had bought season 1 on DVD and after watching it, was "convinced" that I would "totally love it." That statement alone made me tempted to throw the collection in the same box that houses my stone-washed jeans, Disney Princess Collection CD, and the tacky, Christmas-scene blouse that my sister gave me three Christmases ago. Things that I don't have the heart to throw away, but I wouldn't dare chance people knowing I own. Wayne is a great guy but after he was "convinced" I would "absolutely love" The Hot Chick (starring Rob Schneider), his credibility in assessing my tastes seriously plummeted. Not to mention, the whole synopsis of the show was about real people with comic-book-character powers and abilities. Had Wayne ever met me? What part of my personality made him think I would have even the slightest bit of interest in a show about invincible cheerleaders and flying politicians? I wasn't even crazy about Batman!

But somehow, the episode made it into my DVD player. I watched all 23 episodes by the end of the week. I couldn't believe it! In the entire 3 years I'd known Wayne, we'd only ever agreed on one movie and several reruns of "The Golden Girls." How had he managed to find such a gem? I was completely hooked. I was even glad I hadn't started watching it on TV because I couldn't imagine having to wait a whole week between episodes. I'm surprised I didn't lose my job from all the nights of staying up til 1am, telling myself "just one more episode." (No, that came later, from a nasty, back-stabbing, liar....but that's another blog or another time!) Yes, Heroes had changed my life. It gave me a long-awaited reason to keep paying my cable bill, and an incredible marriage to my ideal husband. (OK that last part was only in my daydreams, but that fantasy of marrying Detective Matt Parkman -the character, not the actor- was incentive enough to keep me tuned in!)

But then, something awful happened. Season 2! Talk about a let down. Where were the riveting, action-packed, "holy s*&%, I can't believe that just happened" episodes that I had been so captivated by in season 1? Who the heck were these new heroes with extremely useful powers like bleeding sludge out your eyes or the ability to light your cigarette from the palm of your hand? (Although I do have to admit, that does save you the trouble of having to fish through all your drawers for a lighter.) What is the point of Hiro traveling through 17th century Japan to dual with Sting? Why does no one in Japan question this guy's blond hair and blue eyes? If Peter has the ability to take every one else's powers, how is it he ends up all the way in Ireland and never even tries to find Bono to steal his superhuman ego? How does Kristen Bell (Elle) manage to keep her hair from frizzing with all that electricity running through her? Far too many mysteries to solve. And the worst part was, none of them were interesting enough for anyone to try! The most riveting storyline was the nail-biting episode where we were all on the edge of our seats, waiting to see if Claire was going to make the cheerleading squad at her new school.

And just when you thought "Petrelli for President" was as boring as it could get, season 3 comes along, showcasing my husband (Matt) on a quest through Africa to follow a turtle!!! It is a very important journey. At the end, Matt learns that he too can go temporarily blind and paint 1960's pop art. I think I'm going to follow the stray cat outside my classroom and see if it leads me to the ability to dance. Why not? Can't be any bigger a waste of time than trying to keep up with Heroes!

I couldn't help it. The first half of season 3 was such a snooze that I went to my doctor to get tested for narcolepsy. I decided to skip the second half and say nightly prayers that season 4 would see the show return to its season 1 format of kicking ass! And yet again, I was disappointed. It seems in a feeble attempt to make up for putting everyone to sleep during season 3, the writers and producers decided to assemble season 4 while all consuming heavy doses of speed! Now, the plots are so involved, so fast, and so twisted within themselves, I can't even keep up. I started watching the pilot for season 4 and six minutes in, my brain exploded! By the time I had managed to pick most of the remaining pieces of it off the couch, I was so far behind, I couldn't even see the tail-lights of the plot. All I knew was, the sassy, brunette girl from Days of Our Lives would not be catapulting into prime time via this show, seeing as how hey killed her guitar-hero champ character off before the episode's end. I haven't even attempted to watch an episode since. I just can't afford another unexpected lobotomy. What if this time I loose something essential?

Well Wayne, we almost had one. You hit it out of the park, only to be caught by a little kid, who reached over the wall to catch it while it was still in play. I still hold out hope that someone will be able to sit down with me and explain this last season to me, so I can be ready for season 5. Maybe that will be the season where the show finally gets back its mojo. In the meantime, I guess that copy of Six Feet Under Season 1 will have to find its way into my DVD player. Perhaps that one has enough stamina to stay a home run. Either way, I have to watch it sometime so you'll stop mentioning it every time you come over....then I'll be able to say "yes, I have watched it" and you can't argue with that!

A Hallow Extreme?

2009-10-30T12:08:00.007-05:00

Ah it is that time of year again. The leaves have fallen. A chill is in the air. Pumpkins have been picked. Cider steams up my morning mug. Yes, this is absolutely my favorite time of year. A time when the hard-core, conservative Christian residents of the Bible Belt attempt to ban Halloween from the rest of us heathens. I am sure I am going to get a lot of slack for this one, but I have to be honest with you....I really don't care. I've lived here in the Belt for 5 years now (granted, the very ghetto part it....you know, the part in which you can only beat with the Old Testament because we haven’t scraped together enough money for the complete King James version yet) and every year this controversy baffles me.

Now, in all fairness, I'm from the north, which automatically means I am going to Hell. I'm pretty sure that's what Damn Yankees was all about. Until I moved below the Mason-Dixon Line, I didn't know there were people who didn't celebrate Halloween! I just assumed it was a standard part of childhood; much like birthday parties, summer vacations, and accidentally setting your backyard on fire. I went to church nearly every Sunday morning. (Yeah, that's right...we Episcopalians actually have to get up and go to church on Sunday mornings. We don't get to just go at our convenience anytime over the weekend!) But I can't recall a single time, in 25 years, that someone tried to tell me that Halloween was evil or satanic.

So you can imagine my flabbergastment (when you write your own blog, you get to make up your own words) in 2004, when I began my first teaching job as a “southerner” and inquired about what kind of Halloween festivities would be taking place at the school and was met with awkward stares, much like the ones on the faces of bystanders in those dreams where you suddenly realize you’ve walked into a room naked. Thankfully, another radical teacher took pity on me. She pulled me into a dark corner and whispered that “we don’t acknowledge Halloween in the school. Too many families believe it is a threat to their Christian faith."

Huh??? Giving candy to kids is a threat to Christianity? To dentistry, perhaps, but Christianity? That must’ve been left out of my Bible Cliff’s Notes. I don’t recall learning that at my Catholic university. Of course, we had a bar on campus too so maybe that discredits any religious arguments we alumni might submit. I know what you’re going to say…”They feel it is a glorification of demons, witches, and the Devil. Celebrating such evils is a crime against Jesus.” That would all make a whole lot of sense too, except for that Halloween started as a Christian holiday! Long before it secured its place as a secular holiday, October 31st was the Christian celebration of All Hollow’s Eve, occurring on the night before All Saint’s Day. Good, Jesus-praising people dressed up as ghosts, ghouls, and Kayne West in order to scare away evil spirits. They carved scary faces into jack-o-lanterns not to invite wickedness in, but rather keep it out. (Those who couldn’t afford pumpkins just took in the nearest black cat in heat, which generally did the trick as well.) These traditional Halloween rituals weren’t a celebration of evil. They were an attempt to scare it away with a dose of its own medicine. Maybe someone should try that with Michael Moore. Force him to watch his own movies and maybe he’ll be scared away. It’s worth a shot.

But despite all that, if people still believe that allowing their child to dress up like A-Rod or other villainous creatures will affect where they spend the afterlife, fine. Don’t let them wear “demonic” costumes. But is it really necessary to forbid them from dressing up as clowns, princesses, and superheroes? I’m probably alone in this, but I think depriving your child his or her natural right to go door-to-door and beg for candy once a year is the true evil. Where would today’s youth be without bite-size Reese’s and Snickers? I have countless fond memories of trekking through several feet of snow, with my cutesy little costume stretched over a parka, and trick-or-treating through my upstate New York neighborhood. I could never deny my child those experiences. That would be unethical!

So I will be at home tonight, handing out Nerds and Smarties to the handful of trick-or-treaters who have managed to persevere. Because, hey….I believe that’s what Jesus would do. My apologies to anyone I might upset by this entry. But it’s my blog and I’ll offend if I want to, offend if I want to, offend if I want tooooooooo…you would do it too and you can’t argue with that!

Bromance, Homance, and Nomance

2009-10-16T19:11:00.002-05:00

My quickly dwindling supply of incoming funds, combined with mortgage-payment-equivalent ticket prices, has left my thirst for late summer cinema unquenched. In layman's terms....I'm too poor to go to the movies! Gone are the summer days where the air conditioning would break and we'd beat the heat by chilling at the local AMC. Luckily, my newly-heightened bargain browsing abilities have led me to the Red Box. When I sit and sulk over previews for flicks I can't afford to see at the Regal, I can take some comfort in knowing that in just a few short months, I can rent it for a buck at my closest Golden Arches. I decided to take advantage of this ray of sunshine a few weeks back and rent "I Love You, Man."

"I Love You, Man" is a classic example of a bro-mance (0r as Derek likes to call them, dick flicks). Bro-mance is a term given to a close relationship between two guys who don't listen to Barbara Streisand CDs while frosting their tips. Basically, it's a clever term for "best friend" in the world of the Y-chromosome. "I Love You, Man" was a movie about a guy who didn't have a close guy friend until his fiancee encouraged him to go out and find one. Personally, I give 2 thumbs up to the fiancee for realizing the importance of a bro-mance in a man's life. I never understood girls who get upset when their guys want to go out for "boys nights". Why? I mean, I could understand if your man was going out with his other external urinary tracted friends 5 nights a week, but a routine "guys night out" is actually good for a relationship. I'll tell you exactly why I am THRILLED that Derek (after nearly 2 years) has finally gone out and gotten himself a bro-mance....I don't want to have to sleep through another stupid "Narnia" movie with him! I have no interest in standing outside for 8 hours to see U2. I know nothing about, nor can I even pretend to care about where the USA stands in the World Cup Soccer qualifiers. Thank God for Alex, Shaun, and Wayne! Now I breathe easy any time WWE comes to town, knowing that I won't have to be dragged downtown on a Monday night to sit through it. I am the first to admit, Derek's bro-mances have saved our relationship!

The same is also true of ho-mances. I don't think this term has caught on with quite a raging popularity, but it's my term for close friendships between females who don't cut their hair above the ear or frequent the Lipstick Lounge on a regular basis. Most normal guys have no problems with their girlfriend leaving him at home so she can scrapbook or watch "Grey's Anatomy" with someone else who will actually cry and shout obscenities at the screen. And I don't think many ladies would argue the fact that it is a necessity of survival to have someone in your life who WILL tell you that you look fat in those jeans or that those shoes do NOT go with that dress. Sue, Marie, Ann....your ho-mances have saved my life and Derek's sanity on many occasions!

But while it's fairly obvious that bro-mances and ho-mances are essential in maintaining healthy relationships with members of the opposite sex, there is one final "mance" whose importance, in my opinion, is greatly under appreciated. I am referring, of course, to no-mances. What the heck is a no-mance, you say? Well lucky you, I am about to tell you. No-mance is a term I am pretty sure I founded exclusively, which is defined as a strictly platonic relationship between a male and female, neither of whom have ever made guest appearances on "Queer As Folk." I can't tell you how many friends I've had over the years who have broken up over one (or both) of them having a no-mance outside the relationship. People (and no offense my vagina-bearing friends, but primarily females) seem to have a very hard time accepting their significant other having a close friend of the opposite sex. Endless battles have been fought over this very issue. Some deaths have even occurred. And while I can sympathize with an opposition to a friend who harbors intentions of something more with your Cuddle Muffin, I think a lot of couples are overlooking a substantial benefit to Shmoopy having a friend of the opposing gender.

If your boy-toy has another female he can talk to, that means he has someone else to tell him (ahead of time!) "Don't do that!" when he thinks about re-scheduling your anniversary because it's game 2 of the World Series. One of my very best friends in the world is a guy named William and he'd be the first one to tell you that virtually any time he has come to me with a girl-problem, my response to him has been, "You're being stupid." Trust me ladies, it's good for your man to have somewhere else he can get the female perspective! It gives him far less room to ever say, "She's being irrational." (And note to all you penis-toting readers out there, there is never a situation in which that statement is smart to utter, unless your honey is having issues with your mother and the comment is in reference to the "she" who bore you!)

And guys, the same is true for your Sweetums having a guy friend to whom she is not in the least bit attracted to. I have another very good friend, Barry, who I often consult regarding dispute impasses between Derek and myself. I am usually able to see Derek's side of things much clearer after receiving invaluable perspective from Barry, most often of such comes in the word, "Em, stop being a female." Now, if only such advice could be forwarded to my aunt Flo when she makes her monthly visit....

Really, the most important thing to remember is that no matter how in love with Dittums you might be, never forget the importance of your friends. Male or female, those friends were not only important in keeping you going throughout your single life, they are CRUCIAL in surviving your love life. And after my well-formulated arguments....you can't argue with that!

Bend This, Beckham

2009-10-04T16:08:00.011-05:00

*First off, I want to apologize again for making my devoted readers wait so long for my latest opinion. It's not that I haven't had any! I recently was offered an unexpected teaching job and had to jump right back into the classroom on very little notice. I promise, now that I am back into the groove of teaching, Can't Arguments will again be posted on a weekly basis. I apologize profusely for the delay and thank you all again for continuing to come back to the site!

Derek had been planning this big weekend for months. He'd purchased tickets online, made sure we both had the time off of work, booked the hotels, mapped out the mileage, and budgeted gas costs. His preparation for this began all the way back in June. Ah the anticipation...how on earth was I going to wait for my romantic getaway to Columbus, Ohio?

There are really only two reasons for anyone to visit Ohio. To go to Cedar Point or to have breakfast at my aunt and uncle's mouthwatering breakfast franchise. While we did manage to partake in the latter, Derek had other plans in mind for the final destination of our 6 hour drive. More than anything, he wanted to see his European football hero, David Beckham. For those of you in the landslide majority of the country who have no interest in soccer, Beckham now plays for the MLS team, LA Galaxy. Last Saturday night, the Galaxy embarked on a transcontinental journey to play the Columbus Crew. Unfortunately, the LAX Transportation Security Authorities must've been having a slow day, thus deciding to shake things up a bit by detaining Beckham before boarding time, because the Galaxy's flight took off without the Beck Man.

Naturally, when Derek failed to see the number 23 on the back of a navy jersey, he did what any loyal fan would have. He whipped out his iPhone and checked the MLS injury list. Beckham's name was not among those listed. Derek then zipped over the the official Spice Girls site to see if there was a reunion tour he was unaware of, that perhaps Mr. Posh had decided on which to accompany his wife. No. It seemed the world still chooses to block the group from memory. I even had Derek check Soap Opera Digest's page. I didn't really think there would be any mention of Beckham's absence on it, but I figured since Derek had a wireless connection, I may as well see what I'd missed on Friday's episode of "Days of Our Lives." The lack of evidence to the contrary made our conclusion rather obvious....David Beckham had no-showed.

Now, as disappointed as Derek was, he still managed to enjoy the game. It made him nostalgically giddy to relive his days of benchwarming for his high school soccer team. So the seemingly endless road trip wasn't a complete washout. However, I can't help but feel a little angry. Sure, we found other reasons to enjoy the game despite Beckham's absence, but what about all those other "23"-shirted people people in the crowd? I know there had to be quite a few of them who made treks even longer than ours for the sole purpose of seeing the tattooed Brit kick a checkered ball back and forth. Personally, I think that kind of behavior is reprehensible for such an icon. When people, especially young people, look up to you as a role model, you have a responsibility to them. And part of that responsibility is to show up at events where those fan are expecting you! I realize it's tough for a professional athlete to uphold his playing contract. I mean, that's 32 whole games! How would Derek Jeter fair with such a demanding schedule?

In all fairness, it was stated after the game that Beckham was MIA due to a problem with his Achilles tendon. Apparently, such an injury prevents you from traveling with your team to show your support. Now it has been reported that Beckham may also miss the Houston game on the 18th due to a sub dermal hematoma. The Galaxy is unsure at this point whether he will have recovered from his minor cephalgia in time for the final game against San Jose on the 24th. We can only wait. And pray.

Maybe I'm wrong though. Maybe my anger is unfair. Maybe it's wrong for us, as fans, to expect someone as big a superstar as David Beckham (who has movies named after him, for crying out loud!) to show up to every scheduled game. He does have advertisement endorsements to think about, after all. But Becks, if you keep disappointing your product-consuming fans by no-showing, you being a spokesperson isn't going to entice anyone to buy any of those products.....and you can't argue with that!

Jon and Kate Make Me Regurgitate

2009-09-08T22:51:00.004-05:00

I’m not embarrassed to say that until very recently, I had no idea who Jon and Kate Gosselin were. I mean, I had heard one of my friends once mention this show she watched about this couple who had a boat-load of kids and the dad was a dweeb and the mom was nuts. So naturally, I went home and surfed my cable trying to find what station they were airing “Eight is Enough” reruns on. I love that show! But I soon found out that she was indeed not referring to Dick Van Patten’s claim to fame. (Which, I have to admit was a bit disappointing cuz I love when all the kids make that human pyramid at the end of the opening credits back when TV shows had real theme songs.) Nope. She was referring to TLC’s biggest reality show, “Jon and Kate Plus 8”.

Really? A show about raising 8 kids under the age of 10? Sounds more like a PSA about the dangers of fertility treatments than a good way to entertain oneself for a half an hour. I get nauseous hearing about my co-workers kids! Seriously, I have less than zero interest in Jimmy’s game-winning soccer goal, Susie’s first loose tooth, or Lucy’s getting struck by lightening down at the Boys and Girls Club. You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep faking enthusiasm about this stuff. Oh…yeah…Tim, Damon, Mel….of course I don’t mean your kids! Those stories are completely riveting!

Well, apparently somebody out there enjoys hearing about this drivel because the show is now in its fifth season. (Somebody please tell me how “Arrested Development” got canceled after 2 and a half years and this show has already run for twice that long? What is wrong with this country?) Anyway, this latest season opened to its largest audience in its history. 9.8 million people tuned in to watch and see how Mr. and Mrs. Gosselin were going to respond to Jon’s alleged extramarital booty bumping. 9.8 million people! Almost 10 million Americans had nothing better to do on Memorial Day night than tune in to witness this? Forget universalized health care…that is reason enough for me to move to Canada!

What is our fascination with this nonsense? Even before Jon’s alleged bed hopping, the show was still averaging between 2 and 3 million viewers an episode. Why? What is so interesting about a woman bitching at her husband 24/7 about his lack of assistance in parenting? If I wanted to watch that, I’d spend the evening at my friend Marnie’s house! And the fact that the husband being caught by paparazzi with another woman more than doubled the show’s ratings, is just disturbing. What is our problem? Why are we so riveted by something that will more than likely break up an entire family? It must be the same inner demon that makes us rubberneck when we pass an accident on the highway on the way to work or laugh when someone smacks their funny bone. When it comes right down to it, human beings are a sick and twisted species.

Jon was recently quoted as saying he worries that one day down the road, his kids will google his name and be embarrassed. Which is a legitimate fear. I googled his name to write this blog and I’m embarrassed! What if someday my computer is confiscated and someone finds out that I actually did a search on him? Well Jon, if your kids do wind up googling you someday, you should be happy. It means someone out there still gives a rat’s ass….and you can’t argue with that!

MIA

2009-08-31T16:39:00.002-05:00

I would just like to apologize for being MIA the past week and a half. I know so many of you are waiting with baited breath to read my latest entry. I have started a new job teaching at the community college and I was preoccupied with all the paperwork and formalities. Not to fear, however. There will be a new entry up, hopefully by the end of the week. Thanks for continuing to check in!

This One is a Little Long...So Sue Me

2009-08-20T22:19:00.009-05:00

The other night was one of those rare evenings where Derek and I each found ourselves with a few free moments that actually coincided with one another. We decided to celebrate this blessed event, like most couples do, by sitting on the couch and staring silently at the TV. Unfortunately, my motor skills were not up to par and Derek managed to swipe the remote before my fingers even had a chance to twitch. Such occurrences are a fate worse than death for me, as they typically mean he plans to put me into a premature snooze by forcing me to watch one of those annoying political commentators drone on for an hour. This particular night was no exception.

I spent the first 20 minutes of the show poised and ready to snatch that remote as soon as Derek got up to pee or make a snack in the kitchen. I was dying to change the station to SoapNet. But just as that moment seemed to be approaching, my attention was caught by a story on the show about a mother in Staten Island who sued Little League Baseball Inc. over injuries her son sustained while sliding into second base.

Apparently, the 12 year-old slid improperly and as a result, tore his ACL and his meniscus. She sued the manager of the team for not teaching her son the proper technique. (Hey, as a former middle school teacher, I can attest to the fact that you can teach a 12-year old proper techniques until his feet fall off, but that doesn't mean any of it is going to sink in!). And she sued the first-base coach for telling him to keep running to second base even though her son had hit very few doubles in his Little League career prior. (Yes, how dare he try to boost the kid's self-confidence by encouraging him to run to second base!). And finally, she sued the league for using the wrong kind of bases (which, as it turns out, were league standard bases.) And here is the really scary part...the league wound up forking over a $125,00 settlement to her! Wow. The woman waits three years after the incident to file suit and finally another 2 after that, when the kid has moved well beyond his prime for Little League anyway, she gets $125,000 for being stupid. You know, 6 years ago I watched a man zip through a red light, run over a small tree, and crash into the side of a brick building because a surprise heart attack overtook him while he was driving. I wonder if I can sue him for the bystander trauma I endured from that. Every time I see a small tree, I shed a tear.

Let's just forget for a moment that the risk of injuries when signing up to play sports should be assumed. Why else did this mother think she had to provide copies of their health insurance card before he could be eligible to play? But we'll slide passed (pun definitely intended) the obvious fact that you shouldn't be able to sue for "duh"! (Hello Miss "McDonald's coffee is served hot? I had no idea." Yes, I'm talking to you.) Instead, we'll move on to the more disturbing aspect of this story....the long-term consequences. The Little League Baseball Inc. just handed out 125K to a parent of a member. How many other parents are going to do the same, now that a precedent has been set and they see there is profit to be gained? It won't take long for the league to be forced to fold, thus taking away an organization that for years has been providing millions of kids with exercise, self-esteem, good sportsmanship, over-sized hats, storylines for Disney movies, and oh yeah FUN! I mean, it's bad enough that a small minority of people, who believe that kids dressing up as fairies and superheroes and asking for candy is satanic, have taken the celebration of Halloween away from all kids in many parts of the country. Now we have to take Little League away too? Before we know it, our children are going to have nothing to look forward to but playing alone in their plastic bubbles. Until, of course, parents sue the manufacturer of the bubbles for not using "green" plastics.

Now I understand that sometimes lawsuits are necessary because sometimes there IS obvious negligence. You should be able to sue if your child is seriously injured from playing with a toy a company knew was defective and failed to recall. You should be able to sue if your doctor prescribes you a medication and fails to tell you that it could have a life-threatening reaction with others you are already taking. You should be able to sue if Taco Bell refuses to make you a cheesy, gordita crunch during its non-promotional time, when they have all the ingredients to make them year round. I'm fully aware of the need for such suits. I read John Grisham's latest drama, The Appeal. But like any good system, greedy people are abusing it. Just like welfare or eBay.

Enough is enough. If people keep suing Little League for injuries, no one is going to want to volunteer to coach or run it. If people continue to sue doctors for incorrect diagnoses or failed treatment plans (and I am talking about in cases where there is no clear answer as to what the best plan is), no one is going to go into the medical field. If you want to sue your college for not being able to find a job after graduation....hey, join the club! (And get yourself a copy of "St. Elmo's Fire", the best movie ever! You won't feel so bad about your own after-college slump.)

Somehow, society has got everyone thinking we're owed something. Well, I hate to break it to you, but we're not. We get what we work for and sometimes, we get a bad break. Sometimes luck just isn't on our side. And when we finally run out of people to blame for our problems, we'll be forced to see that most of what happens to us in our lives is the result of our own actions. And at that point, the only thing left to do will be to sue yourself. Now there's a lawsuit I'd like to read about....how could you argue with that?

Exercising Releases Endorsements

2009-08-12T22:44:00.005-05:00

This past election turned out more voters at the polls than any other election in American history....including Canada. People whose only prior voting experience included their weekly texts into American Idol, googled the definition of "citizen" to make sure they were one of the United States, mapquested the nearest site, and made a mad dash to stand in line for an hour to cast their ballot. There are all sorts of theories as to why this particular election generated such a turn out. The last administration was so bad, people literally got up off their couches in an attempt to make a change. This election saw the country's first African-American candidate and female running mate, igniting people's desire to "make history". The thrill of voting off your least favorite "Big Brother" cast member is so intense that people decided to try it with presidential elections. Starbucks' prices are so outrageous, the idea of free coffee appealed to people. Whatever the reason for record-breaking poll attendance this past November, I think it's great so many Americans exercised their right to vote. For years, they've been saying Americans don't do enough exercising.

What I don't find so great is all the celebrity endorsing that went on during the 2008 Presidential race. You all know what I am talking about. Oprah's numerous episodes of her show, talking about her support of Obama and encouraging her viewers to do the same. Jon Voight going on "The O'Reilly Factor" and detailing his support of McCain. Billy Ray Cyrus revealing to Barbara Walters that he endorses "Hannah Montana" and is in full support of riding his daughter's coattails. I could go on for days but people already tell me my blogs are too long. While I am all for freedom of speech and the right to utter whatever political opinions we want, I think celebrity endorsements of politicians is irresponsible.

Unless a celebrity has a political background or is actually a political celebrity (ie: Glenn Beck, Chris Matthews, Sam the Eagle), he or she has no business announcing their voting stance to the rest of the world. No, you don't need a degree in political science to vote in an election. Everyone is entitled to their own vote, even if its basis is merely, "McCain" would get you more points in Scrabble than "Obama". (Of course, everyone knows you can't use proper names in Scrabble , so this would in fact, be a stupid reason.) But it's my opinion that celebrities without a political background should keep their mouths shut. (If you have a different opinion, write your own blog!) My experience as a public school teacher has taught me that, unfortunately, there are a lot of idiots out there. I'm not saying this is true of all registered voters (or even most of them), but there are plenty of individuals in this country that would vote for someone, solely because Jennifer Aniston or Adam Sandler is. I think using celebrity status to influence voters is an abuse of clout. Whether they want it or not, celebrities have a responsibility to their public as role models. (I know, the thought of Jessica Simpson as a role model scares me too.) Influencing people's ideas and actions regarding affairs you are not qualified in, is unaccountable. No matter which side of the spectrum celebrities are on, they have no business recruiting their fans.

And then again, maybe I'm just resentful. Maybe I'm envious of the fact that people care about Cameron Diaz's voting record, and my own barely even influences me. Maybe that little Yoshi-looking monster is making his way into too many of my blogs....I guess I can't argue with that!

Where Have You Gone, 1982? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you

2009-08-06T18:54:00.008-05:00

So Derek and I have 4 cats. (For those of you new to my blog, Derek is the identity-protected alias of my boyfriend.) 2 of our cats came to us about a year ago, as kittens. They had been strays, brought into the animal hospital where I worked. A wonderful woman, who dedicates a LOT of her time to rescuing strays and controlling the stray population (cats and dogs....not people), had caught them and brought them in to be spayed. She couldn't find homes for them, so she was just planning on releasing them back out from where she had found them. I didn't think such tiny kittens had much chance of surviving out there alone. How would they find food? What would happen when it got cold? How would they fare in a knife fight? What kind of drugs might they get into? What if they were eaten by a coyote? (That last one was a true fear. There is a nasty coyote population in many areas of Nashville and many pets have gone to visit Ceiling Cat/Dog because of them.) So, I took them home. Now they are fully grown and spoiled rotten and keep us awake most of the night with their loud purring.

You're probably wondering what the heck a sappy, cat-rescue story has to do with 1982. Well, I'm getting there. See, Derek and I decided to be clever and name one of the cats, Setzer. "What's so clever about that?", you say? Yeah I figured as much. No one ever gets it. Here we thought we were being so cool and witty, but we were overlooking one very important fact....no one remembers that there ever was a band called The Stray Cats, much less that it was fronted by Brian Setzer! (For those of you still not up to speed, she was a stray cat and Brian Setzer was the lead singer of the rockabilly group, The Stray Cats, so we named her Setzer.....oh forget it!)

It's not even so much that The Stray Cats were a staple of 80's culture. Not even a piece of scotch tape, really. I mean, you don't often have conversations with friends and co-workers reminiscing about your Jordash jeans, jelly bracelets, and MTV-watching when MTV still played music videos, and hear one of them say, "Man, I was totally into The Stray Cats!" But come on....they had two major hits in 1982, one of which was a Billboard Top 10! "The Stray Cat Strut" had everyone walking around with arched backs and fluffy tails. And "Rock This Town" had everyone....well, rocking their towns.

The real tragedy that is represented by everyone's failure to catch the 80's reference in our cat's name, is that the 80's are slowly falling further and further from our memories. People don't remember the decade in which Tom Hanks dressed in drag, Aqua-net stock skyrocketed, and parents didn't have to monitor what their kids were watching on TV because Punky Brewster was always wholesome. With our Nintendo Wiis, iPhones, and MacBook Pros, no one appreciates the ground-breaking technological advances of Atari, cordless phone with call waiting, and Apple computers for drawing with Logo or playing "The Oregon Trail". Everyone seems to have lost touch with that feeling of awe (which, by the way, is actually how aweSOME became a word), that we had when all these things were not merely new versions, but brand new ideas! And, no one remembers Laura Branigan.

Ok so maybe this blog hasn't been quite as LOL as some of my previous ones, but I feel this is a serious matter. We need to bring back the 80's, people! Where is Doc Brown when we really need someone to build a time machine out of a DeLorean? I say we go back. Let's go back to a time when having a cat named Setzer would make people look at you and say, "Right on, Dude! I'm totally feeling ya!" It's time to return to a time when the world was free of Britney Spears....because you just can't argue with that.

Waging War

2009-07-28T11:28:00.009-05:00

As I was driving to work last Friday, I was subject to some interesting news. First, my favorite radio station, Jack fm, was having an all-80's weekend. This was awesome! I've become extremely disenchanted with radio these days because of all the bubble-gum, manufactured, cookie-cutter, pop music that gets played. But this would give me the opportunity to allow my CD player a much needed vacation! Bring on the new wave of 25 years ago! The second piece of news was not as joyous. I learned on July 25th, that the federal government was raising minimum wage from $6.55 an hour to &7.25.

Alright I'll admit, my first thought was, "Holy crap! That's not much less than I make right now, with my 2 advanced degrees and several years of work field experience!" Yes it's true. That little green-eyed monster made another appearance as I contemplated the idea of 16 year-olds making nearly as much flipping burgers as I do taking on the lives of living creatures every day. I mean, normally, it only makes me slightly nauseous to realize that I just barely reach double digits with my hourly salary. I accept that we're in a recession and I'm lucky to even have that right now. But now that I know some smart-mouthed kid, who can't write a complete sentence using a noun and a verb, will be making over $7 an hour serving ice cream...I'm in full-projectile vomit mode. Hang on....I feel another bout coming on.

Ok I'm back now. So now that I've moved passed the initial anger of knowing that my salary still won't increase, let's talk for a moment about the ramifications of such a jump. Now, Mr. Schlenker, my 12th grade economics teacher, could tell you that I don't have much of a mind for finance. But even I can tell that while this wage inflation looks good on the surface, it's going to have drastic effects on our already plummeting economy. Sure, I can see how we'd look at the short-term results and see our teens and twenty-somethings buying more Wii and XBox games, bringing some slight stimulus to the flat lined economy. Yet, peel away just one layer and look at the effects just a few weeks down the road. Companies, many of which are already having to lay-off employees, due to lack of profit, will be forced to lay off even more. It's basic math. If you're already struggling to pay 10 workers at $6.55 an hour, it will be impossible for you to pay 10 of them at $7.25. If you're paying out $65.50 for your total hourly wages, you're most likely going to keep 9 of them and maintain your budget, rather than dig yourself further in the hole. Sure, it's only 7 more dollars, but that adds up. $7 times 40 hours a week, times 4 and 1/2 weeks a month is an extra $1260 each month. (Mr. Murray would be proud. I was awake through some of 11th grade math!) Imagine how much extra expense it would mean for corporations with well over 10 employees. I'd tell you but now we're getting into advanced math and I majored in English. The point is, in only a few weeks time, we're going to see companies laying off even more employees, meaning less people spending, resulting in taking our economy off life support and calling in the nearest preacher.

In addition, most people who are pushing for the minimum wage hike have never owned a business so they have never had to meet a payroll. An increase of $0.70 an hour of wages amounts to much more for Donna's Doggie Day Spa. Business owners have to also pay payroll taxes, unemployment taxes, match social security contributions, their business liability insurance cost, therapy bills, bar tabs... all these are directly related to payroll. (OK maybe not that last two) Whoa! Now I know why my old boss spent all day long on Facebook, rather than giving evaluations for raises! Also, state mandated worker's compensation is based on payroll. Bascially, what all these numbers boil down to is, we do use math after we graduate. Oh, and an increase of $0.70 an hour will most likely cost the employer an increase of $1.35 an hour.

And let's not forget one other very important point. The Pet Shop Boys were a kick-ass band! Oh wait, I slipped back to the 80's weekend thing. Sorry. My other very important point...minimum wage jobs were not meant for people supporting families! They were meant for high school kids looking to earn some extra money for prom tickets, football games, and buying dates with the head cheerleader. They were meant for college students who needed to be able to eat while going to school. Raising the minimum wage is only making it harder for those people to even obtain such jobs. And let's be honest, those are the people doing most of the consuming anyway. We older folks who don't have the luxury of a paycheck without mortgages, rent, electric bills, and school loans, aren't out there spending money we don't have to. It's the ones still living at home, working just for spending cash, that are buying. And if they're not getting hired because WalMart has too many higher qualified applicants, they don't have any money with which to stimulate our economy. Yes, I know that not all minimum wage employees are living with Mom and Dad. But my point is that those are the people minimum wage was designed for. Increasing it only takes the opportunity away from those people.

I'm sure some of you disagree with my line of thinking. I'm sure some of you think I'm full of hot air. But you don't have your own blogs so na na na na na......you can't argue with that!

Wait For It...

2009-07-23T20:26:00.007-05:00

I sit. I watch. I wait. I leave the room to use the bathroom. I come back and make sure I didn't miss it. I watch some more. I try to use telepathic powers to make it happen. I still wait. I reluctantly go have dinner with a friend. I check my purse every 360 seconds for reassurance. I don't taste a single bite. I worry that the area noise is overpowering. What was that? Did I hear something? No. I drive home with it on my dash for easy access. I fail to follow the plot of a made-for-tv movie. I check every few minutes, just in case I didn't hear it. I go for a jog. I keep it in my pocket for safe keeping. I stop every 10 feet to make sure that wasn't a vibration I just felt. I return home. I shower. I run to it before I even grab a towel. Nothing. I climb into bed to prepare myself for another round of this nauseating routine tomorrow. I double check to make sure it's still on before I turn the light out. Silence.

Come on. We've all been there. Who hasn't spent several days out of their life just waiting for the phone to ring? Who hasn't driven themselves completely insane, when after two days of waiting, they started hearing ring tones or feeling vibrations that weren't happening? The waiting game sucks. The side effects worse than those of Chinese water torture. So why do we put ourselves through it? Because that big payoff, the coveted prize, the minuscule chance of success, would make all the blood, sweat, and tears well spent. We know that the slimmest of odds exists ..... someone could offer us a job.

Sadly, this is a scenario I have played out many times in the past few weeks. OK maybe not this exact scenario. Anyone who has ever met me knows that I've never gone for a jog in my life! But I have driven myself to the outermost depths of sanity and hung over the edge by my toes, in anticipation of a call from a future employer. I have killed more trees than the California wild fires, sending out resumes. Kinko's knows me by name from my daily (sometimes hourly) visits to its fax machine. I have developed a severe case of carpal tunnel from the endless online applications. All this for a chance to hear the melodious sound of my default ringer.

Ah the waiting game. It's a losing battle. I have smelled the agony of defeat more times than Susan Lucci at the Emmy's. But I will forge ahead because I can see the silver line on the horizon. Wait. No. As I'm getting closer I see it's actually the unemployment line. Crap! Oh well. It seems the war will wage on a while longer. It's alright. I have faith. Maybe someone will stumble upon this blog in their random web surfing, realize that I am the brilliance they have been seeking all this time, and offer me a job on the spot. Or maybe I'll just have to continue sharing my tales of disappointing no-call days with my faithful readers....all of whom can't argue with that!

Who's Into Who?

2009-07-12T23:00:00.009-05:00

So this blog is said to be dedicated to things I love, as well as things I hate or merely don't understand. And as of yet, I have not written an entry about something about which I am completely crazy. Of course, I'm sure if you've been reading previous entries, you already know I have a slight propensity towards craziness anyway. But this is something I go all the way over the edge for...I absolutely love Greg Behrendt's book, "He's Just Not That Into You". Liz Tuccillo is credited as a co-author. Mostly she wrote a prologue, an epilogue, and a blurb at the end of each chapter, but what would the book be without the female antidote detailing her own relationship mishaps? She's the one who allows the rest of us to sit back and say, "I'm glad I've never been that stupid", even though clearly we have, otherwise we wouldn't be reading the book! The only reason I don't specifically credit her as a writer is because we all know there is no way a woman could have possibly written this book. If she did, it would be called "I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he hasn't called you." Anyway, I think the book is awesome. It's funny, obvious, and in your face, which is a style I happen to subscribe to.

The movie version was decent, although I kept getting the feeling that the writers weren't quite sure where to go with it. I guess that's to be expected. In all fairness, it's hard to make a movie about a book without a plot! But the all-star cast (with the exception of Scarlett Johansson, of whom I have never been a fan. And her thwarting my plans to drug, seduce, and hypnotically convince Ryan Reynolds to marry me, isn't winning her any points!) did a good job of getting the main point across, which is if he's displaying behaviors that don't correlate with being "into you", he's not!

What I love about the book is that when any woman reads it (myself included), she reads the letters other women are sending Greg and thinks to herself, "Well duh! Honey, how can you possibly excuse such behavior? That guy is an a*$hole.......That reminds me, Nick hasn't called to hook up in a while. He must be really busy with work." Berhrendt definitely hit the nail on the head. We all want to think we're the exception, not the rule. Except for me, of course. I'm sure Derek really would propose if it wasn't for his commitment issues stemming from his last relationship and his fear of losing our friendship.

What I'd really like to see, though, is a woman write a relationship book for men, entitled "I'm not that into you but I'll go out with you anyway because I'll have guilt over hurting your feelings if I don't." There's a book I could have related to. In fact, maybe I'll write that in the few spare moments in my busy life of online blogging. Seriously, that's what upsets me the most every time Derek decides to "quickly run in to the bookstore" and I pick up "...Not That Into You" to kill a few hours. If all these ghosts of relationships past really weren't that into me, what the heck was I doing dating them when I was never into them to begin with?! Why do we, as women, feel the need to "be nice" to guys we have no interest in? Clearly the feeling is not mutual! It's a phenomenon of femininity that I hope someone finds a cure for someday. Maybe I should set up a PayPal account through this blog to help fund research for it.

So if you happen to mistakenly wander into a bookstore and aimlessly find yourself in the "relationships" section, pick up a copy of "He's Just Not That Into You" . If nothing else, the letters from other women will make you feel better about your own dating judgment errors.....and you just can't argue with that!

Clarifications

2009-07-07T19:36:00.004-05:00

Apparently some of my sarcasm has been too obscure for some folks, which is preventing them from separating my true facts from plain humor. Here's a hint, if it seems too outrageous to be an actual fact, it's probably not one! Except in some very rare circumstances, in which I will usually say "I'm not kidding about this one." No "H", I didn't actually research how many points the average person has on their Kroger card! :-P

Thanks for following it, though.....we all know I can't argue with that!

Transit Texting Terminated

2009-07-05T21:02:00.007-05:00

"It is now illegal 2 drive and text in TN."

This was a text message sent to my phone by a friend Wednesday evening.

"Thx 4 telling me! Didnt no that was going in 2 effect yet. U B careful. LOL! TTYL!"

This I replied with my phone inconspicuously hidden under the dash as I drove home from work in Nashville's notorious, clustershmuck of rush hour traffic. I looked up from the microscopic keyboard on my LG just in time to see the Buick in front of me slam on its brakes for no plausible reason. I yanked the wheel abruptly to the left and skidded out onto the parking lot known as I440. A Home Depot truck reamed passed me, nearly taking off the one side view mirror I still have on my poor little Honda. I cut off a Ford Focus in an attempt to make it back to safety. Finally, I made it to the off ramp. In the midst of all the people honking and telling me that I was number 1 (weird...I always thought you used your index finder for that), I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.....my message was sent.

So it's finally happened. Tennessee has realized that it ranks 50th in driving in the United States and has decided to give its people one less thing to distract them from the blind rage that seems to ignite every time they get behind the steering wheel. Personally, I'm all for it. Texting while driving can be extremely dangerous. It prevents you from keeping both hands on the wheel (and in cases like me, it prevents you from keeping any hands on the wheel because I can't type one-handed!) It forces you to take your eyes off the road. And that constant beeping from message alerts is enough to make anyone swerve into a ditch. A recent study actually showed that texting while driving is more dangerous than driving drunk. (I wonder who got to participate in that study!) Of course the most dangerous behavior is driving while texting drunk. Then you wind up on http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/ and other people laugh at your stupidity while they're supposed to be working.

The one thing I'm not so sold on is the consequence. If you're caught texting while driving in Tennessee, you will be charged with a non-moving traffic violation. This makes no sense to me. I thought the whole reason for passing this law was to lessen your likelihood of having an accident while driving. It's been a while since I took physics but I'm pretty sure driving is considered an act of motion. If you were parked in your driveway and texting, there wouldn't be a problem! But making it a non-moving violation keeps you from getting points added to your license, which is fair. Half the drivers in this state already have more points on their license than on their Kroger gas rewards card. But the thing that really gets me is the fine. If you are caught texting while driving in the Volunteer State, you could be slapped with a $50 fine. Are you kidding me? My text message bill alone costs me more than that a month!

Public response to the new law has been mixed. Some people think it's great. Some think it's dumb. Some don't see it affecting them much, seeing as how they don't obey the traffic laws anyway. My personal favorite was the girl who was in full support of the ban because she has had 5 fender benders due to texting while driving. Sweetie, if you need a law to stop you from repeating behavior that's already caused you 5 accidents, you've damaged more than your fender! It's too bad we can't pass any laws that provide people with common sense!

Other people are worried that this new law is only the beginning. "What next? Is it going to be illegal to use your GPS in your car?" I hope not. Because knowing my luck, they'll ban that just as I'm finally figuring out what the heck it is! "When are they going to tell us we can no longer change CDs in our stereo?" I can't believe someone else besides me still drives a car without a 6-CD changer! "I'm just waiting for the day they make it illegal for people to sing along to their radios." Well let's face it, some of us shouldn't anyway.

Regardless of whether you support the new law or not, it has gone into effect. Police officers across the state have warned that they will be strongly enforcing this ban and that yes, they can tell the difference between dialing a number and sending a text. (I must admit, that impresses me. Half the time I can't tell the difference on my own phone!) So if you absolutely have to reply "K", when your friend texts you to say she'll be over at 8, pull over first. I mean hey, 50 bucks could almost fill up your gas tank. Besides, giving it to the state still isn't going to finish the construction on Briley Parkway....and you can't argue with that.

Corrections

2009-06-29T13:46:00.004-05:00

Hello everyone! First off, I want to thank everyone who has visited the blog so far. But I also wanted to give an apology for several errors that were in the first 4 blogs. Right before I sent out the link for people to check out, I had to delete and repost the entries on here. And in doing so, I think some of my previous corrections didn't go through. I say this because many of the errors pointed out to me were ones I distinctly remember correcting before. I just don't want anyone thinking I don't read and proofread everything carefully before posting. I usually even have someone else proofread through to catch anything I might've missed. Thank you to those of you who pointed out errors to me. I think I have fixed all the ones on here but please tell me if there are any I've missed. And as always, thanks for checking out "Can't Argue With That."

Twitter Me This

2009-06-28T22:42:00.005-05:00

I'll admit, I'm usually one of the last ones to jump on the online social networking bandwagon of the moment. I only finally set up a MySpace profile, sadly, to keep up with all the drama in the hallways of the high school I taught at. And then when Facebook became all the rage, I couldn't even figure out how to use it until the younger cousin of a friend of mine walked me through it. (I will say, it's gotten much more user friendly, though, as more and more people are making the switch.) These days, my MySpace profile hasn't experienced the thrill of a login from me in well over a month and I often go an unthinkable 4 days without updating my Facebook status. (Gasp!) Yet, despite my laziness in maintenance of my online profiles, I still love these tiny gifts from above because they have allowed me to reconnect with many friends I had lost touched with years ago. (Hey, I even reconnected with my childhood best friend and we're making plans to visit each other this year!)

Despite my late-founded love for MySpace and Facebook, there is a new player in the social "webbing" game that just hasn't won me over yet. I can't for the life of me figure out what the big wow is about Twitter! As far as I can tell, it's Facebook without all the apps to send to your friends who will most likely just hit "ignore". I've done a little research into this and it seems to me that Twitter is the same thing as your Facebook status. You can let all your friends, family, co-workers, and stalkers know your every movement, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. How awesome is that? Privacy is sooooo 20th century.

Maybe it's just because I don't have an exciting enough life that I think anyone would be biting their fingernails, waiting for the latest update on whether I have walked the dog, bought milk, or hit the snooze 3 times. Maybe I'm jealous that no one would care about about whether my iced coffee came from McDonald's or Dunkin' Donuts. Whatever the reason, I can't seem to get on the bandwagon with this one. What is the fascination with Twitter??? I suppose I can see the brief excitement in getting to see the latest insult Perez Hilton gave to that guy from Black Eyed Peas, or if Lindsay Lohan has eaten today. But how long can that fascination really last? And isn't that what we have the National Inquirer for anyway?

While we're on the subject of celebrity "tweeting" (by the way, who came up with that verb to describe the action of using Twitter? Wouldn't "twitting" be more appropriate?), does anyone else find it just the teensiest (or should I say "tweensiest") bit ironic that these same stars who boo-hoo about having no privacy are the same ones who are now exposing their every activity to anyone who might even think about being interested? Forget for a second the conceitedness in assuming everyone hinges their daily activities around your itinerary, what about the danger of the people who actually do? I have a friend who would hop on a plane and fly half way around the world if she had a hot tip that Robert Pattinson would be there. Aren't these celebrities concerned that this new line of media is making it even easier for crazy stalkers to find them? Not that this really affects me. If I had a Twitter account, I doubt I'm important enough to attract any rountine followers, except maybe the handful of friends who I'm probably trying to avoid anyway. I don't see myself being cool enough to attract any stalkers. Although as a former high school teacher, I probably do have some folks out there who'd like to slash my tires. Hmmmmm.....maybe it is better for me to stay away.

So, I'm sorry to disappoint the tens of people who are anxiously awaiting my login, I don't think I'll be "tweeting" anytime soon. I guess you'll just have to settle for a weekly update (when you're lucky!) on my Facebook. Or you can have all the access to my thoughts you want here on my blog. Ooops...I guess maybe I'm a little guilty of assuming everyone plans their life around my opinions! But for those that might...I can't argue with that!

No "I do"'s for you?

2009-06-28T22:36:00.013-05:00

"Angie and I will consider tying the knot when everyone else in the country who wants to be married is legally able."

This quote from Brad Pitt is one of several of its kind. Brad has made it clear that he and Angelina will not get married until gays and lesbians are allowed to marry. Apparently, this is a trend that is popping up all around the country. (And I'm not just talking San Fransisco!) I believe most couples subscribing to this school of thought do so under slogans along the lines of "No 'I do' until gays can do it too."

Now, to each his own. I certainly don't think in this day and age, any couple has to get married. Plenty of couples merely date, shack up, and sometimes even have kids without ever feeling the need to exchange vows. Living in sin isn't grounds for church ladies to light prayer candles for you, as much as it used to be. I'm all for anyone's choice to either get married or not. Many of our great-grandparents had to live in arranged marriages. At least we have the socially accepted ability to say, "I don't think so!" Go modern America!

Let me also state, for the record, that I have no opposition to the idea of same-sex marriage. (However, I don't think those who do are necessarily "gay haters" and shouldn't be labeled as such. But that's another blog for another time.) I see no reason why gays and lesbians can't be married in legally recognized civil ceremonies. If the church doesn't want to recognize it, fine. But people in committed relationships should be given the same opportunity to have all the same legal rights that go along with being married. You know, the ability to be covered under your spouse's health insurance, receiving a bonus tax refund for filing jointly, protection from testifying against your spouse, the right to drive a mini-van, and the freedom to hate your in-laws.

But my thoughts on living in sin and same-sex marriage don't help me comprehend the logic behind this kind of protest that Brangelina has pioneered. Maybe I'm wrong about this, but aren't protests supposed to affect the intended party in some way? Like when union workers strike, it affects the company because no one is there to make its product. Or when people chain themselves to trees, it affects the construction workers who are now going to have to wait a few more hours to start building the new WalMart. Or like when the MLB players strike, it affects all the Yankee haters who no longer are able to accuse them of buying championships.

One woman was quoted as saying “I usually explain that I wouldn’t go to a lunch counter that wouldn’t allow people of color to eat there, so why would I support an institution that won’t allow everyone to take part.” That's all well and good but boycotting a restaurant causes them to lose business. Boycotting marriage seems to me to only affect the the people boycotting! You opting to not get married isn't hurting the people who vote on the marriage laws. In fact, you're actually helping them by not getting married. They can tax you more; they don't have to exempt you from estate and gift taxes if you give or will anything to your significant other; they don't have to continue paying out social security, or disability to both of you if only one is eligible; they don't have to pay out military benefits to your non-spouse; they don't have to worry about buying you a gift that may not have been on your registry. The point is, the only people who are actually affected by this protest are the ones doing the protesting!

Don't get me wrong. I'm sure gays and lesbians appreciate the sentiment behind this. I think it's an extremely loving gesture to do on behalf of our homosexual friends. But other than providing misery some company, I don't see what else this kind of stand is accomplishing. That's not to say it doesn't, I just haven't yet figured out how. But maybe that's because I've yet to have the opportunity to refuse marriage. Thus far, I've been doing it more on an involuntary basis.

And as for Mr. Pitt and Ms. Jolie, I'm sure congress is convening, as I write, to change this law so that you two can exchange rings and the whole world can breathe a huge, long-awaited, sigh of relief. We all know this country is far more concerned with your marital status than the crises in the Middle East or our crumbling economy.....and you can't argue with that.

Transformers 2: The Plot Has Fallen

2009-06-28T22:30:00.010-05:00

One thing is for sure...as much as I may worry about it from time to time, the 80's will never die. This was confirmed for me in last night's viewing of "Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen". Warning, if you have not yet seen the movie and are actually planning on it, skip this blog! This will contain plot spoilers. Of course, some would argue that whole plot was a spoiler. OK bad joke. The movie, though not as good as the first one, was decent. If nothing else, it provided me with some always appreciated 80's nostalgia. As for the movie itself...well...let's see what I think.

The whole experience started off with lots of fun, cool, previews for all the new live-action, 80's toy movies that are coming out. I was filled with excitement as I was teased with a trailer for an all-star, non-stop action, digitally enhanced "G.I. Joe" movie coming this August. Wahoo! So many nights I have prayed for this and now it's finally happening. Why have we waited so long to tell the never-before heard story of the American Hero? This was followed by previews for a live-action "My Little Pony" movie, starring the late Barbaro. And my personal favorite, the thrilling, live-action "Operation", starring former Grey's Anatomy cast member, T.R. Knight. (I'm kind of anxious to see it. It can't be worse than his storyline on the show this past season.)

As the movie begins, we learn that the U.S. Army has joined forces with Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots to set up a special unit designed for the sole purpose of finding Decepticons. What exactly the Autobots need military assistance for, I'm not quite sure. I'll admit, I didn't watch a whole lot of "Transformers" as a child. But I'm almost positive Optimus Prime never got into a tangle with Megatron and said, "Crap! If only I had a man in camouflage with a buzz cut to help save me from this 50 feet of stainless steel." But maybe I just missed that episode. Anyway, this new division, referred to as NEST (which I'm pretty sure stands for Never Even Saw Transformers), shows off some decent special effects in a fight scene between Optimus and a random, overgrown Decepticon in Shanghai. Why Shanghai? Cybertron was known for having great Chinese take-out. Everyone knows that. Oh yeah....believe it or not, Optimus wins.

The sub plot of this movie is that Sam is trying to have a normal life, which just like for most of us, means going to college without our alien car and maintaining a cyber-relationship with someone 10 times out of our league. Unfortunately, Sam takes his sweatshirt out of the closet, which he has apparently not washed in 2 years, and a piece of the all-spark cube falls out. The piece, by some alien magic, manages to implant Sam's brain with crazy gang symbols that spell out information about the original Autobot/Human interaction (some thousands of years ago). Now Sam must decide whether he wants to be a Blood or a Crypt. We also learned the incredibly important plot point that Mikaela is slightly peeved that Sam hasn't said "I love you" yet. I'm sorry, but I found the fact that a girl that hot (yes, I can admit she's hot) would be waiting around for a nerd who after 2 years still can't say that to her even more unbelievable than the idea of transforming alien robots itself. She'd have been long gone ages ago. And there's no way Sam, who has used up every prayer he's entitled to to get a girl that hot, wouldn't have said it after she first agreed to be seen in public with him. I will say the writers did address this by having Sam explain that guys who say "I love you" too soon wind up losing girls "with options". But I still didn't buy it.

Then, in a scene I must've somehow missed, the military comes into possession of their own piece of all-spark and stores it in a "totally secure" underground location that a Decepticon army of pinballs manages to find and steal in about 3 minutes. Soundwave uses it to retrieve Megatron from the crushing depth of the ocean and return him home without the 20 huge military vessels, guarding the area, noticing. The new leader of the Decepticons meets with the Alpha-Decepticon called....wait for it.....the Fallen. The Fallen explains to anyone in the audience who hasn't already pieced it together that they need the gang signs in Sam's brain. He also says that Optimus Prime must die because he is the last Prime and only a Prime can defeat the Fallen. Just like in my own family history. We've been trying to destroy the Butlers for years because only they have the ability to kill us. Very Shakespearean.

Some government tool decides the Autobots are more of a risk than an asset. He dissolves NEST. Optimus meets up with Sam in a cemetery and asks him to be a human advocate for the Autobots. Sam says he wants to live a normal life and that no one would listen to him anyway. I have to say, I agree with him. I tuned him out after the "I love you" conversation.

Sam goes to college and reluctantly develops a friendship with his internet-geek roommate. Another uber-hot chic makes a pass at Sam but as she forces her tongue down his throat, we see her true Decepticon tail come out of her white panties. Mikaela comes in and the chic transforms into Psycho Hose Beast and starts chasing Sam, Mikaela, and Geeky Roommate. She chases them right to Megatron, who tries to pick Sam's nose and steal his brain. Luckily, Optimus and Bumblebee save the day. Starscream and Grindor show up and a metallic, rumble in the ring occurs. A guy would give you all sorts of details about the fight choreography and CGI tricks, but I didn't notice them. (OK, maybe I was just envious that Sam has a transforming camero that comes to his rescue when another giant alien robot tries to kill him and I can't even fix the volume button on my Honda's stereo.) Optimus kills Grindor but Megatron stabs Optimus from behind and kills him. I remain calm during this emotional moment. Because even I remember how upset everyone was when Optimus died in the 80's animated movie and the film-makers admitted that it was a huge mistake. I was pretty sure Spielberg and Bay wouldn't make the same mistake. Naturally, Sam feels like poo because he was too selfish to help Optimus when he asked him to. And what can I say.....he should!

Speaking of Optimus's death, would someone please tell me what Rachet's purpose actually is? He couldn't revive Jazz in the first movie. He still hasn't fixed Bumblebee's voicebox. And now he's completely useless in saving Optimus Prime. I don't know about anyone else, but if I were running Cybertron, I'd have fired him by now.

The Fallen hot wires every TV in the world and says he wants Sam turned over to him or else he'll start destroying cities. He reiterates his point by zapping the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triumph in Paris, where Sam's parents just happen to be vacationing. Sam, Mikaela, and Geeky Roommate, go on the run and find help from the doofus from the first movie. Really? Someone truly felt the need to revive the stupid Sector 7 guy's role? Personally, if they're going to bring back surprise supporting cast members from episode 1, I would've much rather have seen Jon Voight tell Sam that if he didn't do as he ordered, he'd f*&% with his transcripts.

In another plot point I must've been sleeping through, Sam, Mikaela, Geek, and Doofus team up with 2 annoying Autobot twins, who are basically the Wayans Brothers, except the robots can act. Together, they find Jetfire, who bares a striking resemblance to Davy Jones from "Pirates of the Caribbean 2". They revive him using Sam's all-spark piece and he tells them the history of the transformers. They came to Earth sometime before Jesus to harvest Energon, the original Red Bull. Unfortunately, the only way to harvest Energon is to blow up the sun. The BC Autobots decide against it since there were living species here who needed the sun. (Thanks, Autobots!). The Fallen tried to blow up the sun anyway but was overpowered by the rest of the Transformers. They then lock away the key to the sun-blowing-up-machine, the key which is called the Matrix of Leadership.

I couldn't tell you how, but Jetfire mind warps Sam and the gang to Egypt where they eventually find the Matrix. But before they leave, Doofus calls Fergie's fiance (whose character name I can't remember) and tells them to bring Optimus Prime's body to Egypt. And here's the crazy part, they do it!!! Sure, they have been disbanded by the government, but they'll sneak in a 300 foot steel truck to Egypt because this guy from a fake "secret" government co-op says so. OK. I'll overlook the unbelievability of it for plot's sake. They arrive with the body and realize the Decepticons have beaten them there. They hide Optimus under a huge blanket and the Deceptions never know he's there. (And I'm totally serious! They hide him under a freaking blanket!) Sam makes his way over to Optimus's body and revives him using the Matrix. Finally, something good came out of a Keanu Reaves movie! But before Optimus fully recovers, the Fallen grabs the Matrix, and flies off to the secret sun-blowing-up-machine. Jetfire offers to sacrifice himself, merging his parts with Optimus, turning him into Super Optimus Prime, which as far as I can tell is just regular Optimus Prime with a built-in grocery store. Optimus and Megatron duke it out. Optimus kicks both Megatron and the Fallen's butts and blows up the machine. Phew! What a day!

And if that wasn't enough a tion to take your mind off the fact you were out of popcorn, Megatron shoots at Sam and "kills" him. Sam spends the remainder of the fight in Transformer Heaven, where he is praised for his service to the Autobots. (And Jazz doesn't even get a cameo.) Once the big battle is over and the world is saved, the paramedics, who were also apparently transported to Egypt with Fergie's fiance and his fighter friends, decide it's ok to try to bring him back to life. I guess now that the big, creepy robot isn't around to threaten blowing up major cities, it's ok to let the kid live! They bring out the paddles and he is unresponsive for the first several attempts. Mikaela says she loves him and by the magic of the movies, that does the trick. Sam comes back to life and utters those 3 little words every girl wants to hear..."Where's my dog?" Ok ok...I'm making that part up. He tells her he loves her, finds his parents who had earlier been sucked in by an evil Decepticon in Paris and also transported to Egypt, and they all live happily ever after.

(Ooops. Apparently I have gotten the sequencing wrong about the ending here. Does anyone care? No? Good. I won't bother changing it!)

All in all, not a bad movie. But you know what would've made this movie great? Seeing some freakin' TRANSFORMERS in it! Seriously! I think Bumblebee had about 5 minutes total facetime in the movie. Forget Ironhide and Rachet. They should've called the movie "Random People 2". Some of the jokes were clever. Some were cheesy. And some were just plain dumb. The robot nuts joke was almost as annoying as the people sitting behind me, but not quite. If I cared about special effects, they were probably cool too. But the best part of "Transformers 2" is that it proves that the 80's are still alive and well in the hearts of many Americans....and I can't argue with that!

Battle of the Exes

2009-06-27T16:37:00.021-05:00

June 25th was a hard day for a lot of people. The deaths of both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson really got to people's emotions. Farrah's death, though expected, signified the end of an era and the end of a hairdo. Michael's death, a complete shock to most who thought he had already died along with his career, evoked mixed emotions from those who believed him guilty of the crimes he had been acquitted of, but still loved his music. (I won't comment on my feelings about the accusations. That's not what this blog is about.) Both deaths had an effect on me as well. But one probably not shared with anyone else grieving either loss. The news of both deaths made me miss my ex-boyfriend.

First off, let me start by saying I am in a very happy, healthy, and committed relationship. We have been together for 2 years and have been best friends for longer than that. So why would the news of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson's deaths cause me to suddenly miss my ex? Well, we pretty much had a routine when it came to celebrity deaths. It basically went something like this.

HIM: I know you live under a rock, and never read or watch the news, so I'm calling to let you know that Michael Jackson died.

ME: Yeah but he's not really dead, is he?
HIM: No. He died but he's not dead!
(Chucking as we reminisce about an old joke between us.)

ME: Remember when we used to act out the "Beat It" video and I'd be the thug on the street who just up and joins the gang as they walk by?

HIM: Yeah. You're such a tool. Remember when I did the "Thriller" dance at your friend's wedding and everyone thought I was cool?

ME: Yeah they did all think you were cool but look at the judges!

This would go on for several more minutes as we'd recall certain events in our relationship that somehow involved that celebrity. So naturally, the news of both deaths made me want to sneak outside work and call him up so we could do our thing. Alas, I had to stop myself from risking the reprimand from my boss. I knew there was no point in calling. My ex (who, for privacy reasons, I'll refer to as Michael) and I dated for nearly 6 years and this routine went on long afterwards. Despite our breakup, we'd managed to stay pretty good friends for a long time, post-coupling. That is, until about a year ago when he started seriously dating someone else. It's a long, drawn out story of which I will spare you the details (primarily because I don't know most of them myself ) but it all ends with me writing this current blog about the age-old question. ...Sammy Hagar or David Lee Roth? Wait. No. Sorry! Wrong blog. The other age-old question.....can exes really be friends?

Honestly, I believe they can. But once you get to a point where one or both of you is now seeing someone else, you have to be very secure in your new relationship (and so does your new significant other!) in order for a friendship with your ex to continue. It takes a lot of security in yourself and your relationship to genuinely be cool with your Shmoopy maintaining a friendship with their ex. Now before people start shouting obscenities at their screen, I am NOT suggesting that if you're not so down with your Pookie Bear talking to or hanging out with his/her ex that it means you're insecure. I'm just saying that you have to be secure if that's ever going to be a possibility. Many people who are secure in their relationships still don't want to be exposed to the ex factor.

The way I see it, people end relationships over a plethora of reasons. And sometimes the reasons are bad enough to make you never want to see the person again. I know I have several exes about whom the idea of them being flattened by a steamroller makes me smile. But some, I shared some very good times with and even though they may not have wound up being "the one", they still had an impact on my life and who I turned out to be. (And I'm sure they'd all be proud to know they helped shape me to become the sarcastic, opinionated, smart-ass, commentator that I am now!) I don't know how most people act in their own relationships, but I know I like my significant other to be a friend, as well as a boyfriend. And sometimes I don't necessarily want to throw away a friendship just because we're no longer locking lips.

Don't get me wrong, I know that's easier said than done. You have to get passed the whole "are we still hooking up", the "I still have a thing for you", and the "now I can tell you how much I hate your mother" phases. But I truly believe that after all the dust settles, exes can be friends. What makes it tricky is when, as I said before, one gets into another relationship. In many cases, the little green-headed monster rears its ugly head. No, I'm not talking about Yoshi (I happen to think Mario's dinosaur friend has a cute head). I'm referring to the one that makes us do crazy, rash, and otherwise unimaginable things. Things like snooping, stalking, phone tapping, hiring private "i's", etc. We've all been there. I could write an entire blog about the insane things I've done out of jealousy, but the cops might consider it evidence and charge me. But if you have a secure relationship with your new love bug and are able to keep open and honest communication, I think a friendship with an ex is doable.

Derek (my identity-protected current boyfriend) and I both maintain friendships with exes. And Derek was once engaged to his! Granted, she lives 1300 miles away and they mostly just talk through Facebook (her life isn't as important enough to Twitter either), but they always tell the other about major life events. He told her about his first recording session and he was one of the first to know she was having a baby. I've never met her (mainly due to the several states that lie between us) and haven't even "friend requested" her on Facebook. Yet I've never been upset or concerned about their friendship. I know Derek loves me and is with me because he wants to be. Talking to her isn't going to affect how he feels about me. And knowing he still thinks so highly of a girl he used to date makes me feel confident in knowing that if for some reason we don't work out (an unfathomable event, of course), he won't be trash-talking me. Myself, I still maintain a friendship with the guy I dated before Derek. So much so, in fact, that he and Derek have become friends. Clearly I date a "type", and it seems Derek and he are so similar that they kind of hit it off. We've all hung out on many occasions. He and Derek have even hung out without me!

OK so I realize that's a pretty rare scenario. Most of you will probably never come home to find your ex and your current sitting on the couch watching TLC together. But there has to be a middle ground in there somewhere. I'm thinking somewhere between the top and the bottom. Maybe we can't all have pizza with our ex and present at the same time. But does it have to mean we just have to accept that if a break-up occurs, we have to write that person out of our life entirely? (Unless, of course, you keep a blog. Then you can always write him/her back in.)

I guess I really haven't answered the question. I can't tell you whether or not exes can be friends. All I can tell you is that "ex-ships" have not created turbulence in my own relationship. But sadly, I believe they have in Michael's. So he and I may never get to have our traditional phone conversation. Which means I'll have to settle for reminding you all that, despite what you believe about his personal life....Michael Jackson's "Beat It" was one of the best videos ever! Admit it, you still want to do the dance when you hear it on the radio (but you can't because you're in your car) You know you secretly wish you'd stumble on a gang-dance when you take a wrong turn downtown....and you can't argue with that.