Word Up

We all know what a ‘Cougar’ is by now: “A woman in her 40s on the hunt for a younger man”. But do you know what a ‘Googar’ is? “A Grandma cougar. A hot lady in her 50s or 60s that is on the prowl for a younger man.”

I got that definition straight from the Urban dictionary, an online resource for all things slang. It is filled with definitions of words and phrases-- most of which you’d never find in Webster’s-- that are informative, funny and, yes, sometimes very offensive. Overall, it’s rather entertaining.

Here are some examples of my expanding vocabulary: a ‘sargasm’ is a sarcastic exaggeration, the end-all of sarcasm, a sarcastic climax, so to speak. “Flirtexting” is the art of flirting through your Blackberry or phone, and “déjà moo” is the feeling you’ve heard this bullshit before (among other definitions, this is not a G-rated site).

I stumbled upon this site after trying to figure out what the hell “make hay while the sun shines” means. A quick Google search and I found out, but then I got ‘googledrift’ (to drift aimlessly between subjects of interest by finding them accidently on the web), and I got sucked into a new world of words.

So, I’ve just wasted an hour clicking around and laughing. But, finding new words can be fun. And laughing, I just realized, is never a waste of time!

L8r ladies (l8r: a chat expression for ‘later’).

-Steph

Hard Time Hovering

I just read a really interesting article in the Boston Globe on “helicopter parents”. It caught my eye only because I just heard that term for the first time while chatting with a friend a few weeks ago. It seems there’s a helicopter movement out there that I was completely unaware of. And, after reading the article, I understand why.

I am NOT a helicopter parent. I don’t ‘hover’, and I definitely don’t over-parent. As a single mother, with a full-time career, a budding business, and a small side job, I depend upon my 13 year old daughter and my 15 year old son to be responsible and make the right decisions. To be clear, they don’t always make the right decision. As teens, 8 out of 10 times they make the wrong decision. And I will be there to guide them, to show them the way, to allow them to learn from their experiences—and mistakes-- and grow into a competent young adult. But, I won’t hold their hands the entire time.

I’m more like an F-35 Joint Strike Fighter kind of parent.

The F-35 JSF is an affordable, supportable, and survivable craft designed for the battlespace of the future. A product of the Department of Defense, there are nine nations collaborating on the multi-year development and demonstration of this product.

If you don’t get the analogy, let me explain:

First, while I so loved to coddle my kids when they were young, now it’s my job to prepare them for the future. It’s a tough world out there and they better be ready to fight for themselves, because I can’t do it for them. I’ve got my own battle. I’m moving at warp speed every day to keep this family going.

Second, I know I can’t do this alone, so I enlist my family and friends to help me raise these little freedom fighters-- much like the DoD has done by inviting nine nations to help with 'development'.

Don’t get too caught up in the military lingo, here, as I’m definitely not looking for my kids to ship off overseas into another—more literal—battleground. I’m just raising them to be independent, strong-willed, likeable, empathetic human beings, whom, I hope, are directed by an ethical moral compass. And, eventually will learn how to support themselves, and not live off of Mommy until they are 30 years old. This family is affordable, supportable, and survivable and ready for the future.

I hope that doesn’t sound like tough love. It’s not. I love my kids with all my heart. I give them everything they need and want. I don’t want to see them hurt or in pain or struggling. But I challenge them to challenge themselves.

No more handholding. It’s time to take to the sky and learn how to fly!

-Steph

Sweet Tweets!

If you haven’t jumped on the social networking/blogging bandwagon, let us give you a push onto the platform, ‘cause the train is leaving the station and it’s moving at high speed! What am I talking about? I have no idea, and its okay, I don’t have to know what I’m talking about, I’m a blogger!

Today, however, I’m going to try to educate SSW/Wink readers on the latest technology time-stealer. It’s called Twitter. And while I’m still trying to figure it out, I’m starting to get the hang of it, and I think I’ve got the Twitter bug!

Twitter is a micro-blogging service that allows you to send out short messages (146 characters) called “tweets”. You send the tweets to your peeps (oh, this is way too easy!) who sign up to follow you. You can get the messages on the website www.twitter.com or you can request to have them sent to your phone (like a text message).

The types of messages you receive will typically be uninteresting activities that friends think you ‘must know’. For example, “Just finished lunch” could be a typical tweet. Which, nobody really cares about. But, say you are following Kathleen Sullivan, our Wink South fashion correspondent, who is at Fashion Week in NYC and tweets this message to the world: “Hold on to your 80s outfits, shoulder pads are back en vogue!” Now that might be an interesting tidbit, no? Timely information that you can really use!

Or, I’ve heard stories like this: A guy gets off a plane in Chicago, sends a Twitter message that he’s, “In O’Hare with 4 hour delay”. He gets a tweet back that his friend is in the same airport. They meet for a drink at the airport bar. So, it turns out, Twitter is not a complete waste of time!

In fact, I’m here to tell you that in the world we live in, social networking via the Web is the only way to go. If you don’t get it, I suggest you try to figure it out. Not only does it keep people connected while juggling very hectic lives, but our kids are growing up with this. To them, communicating via instant message and Twitter is second nature. They blog, they post YouTube videos, and they create Facebook communities.

We here at SSW/Wink South are doing the same thing. We started with the Wink South Blog (which you are reading!). We established a presence on Facebook (join the South Shore Woman group to plug in with crafty SoB women-- that’s South of Boston). And, we created Daily Cravings-- which gives you easy access to menu and daily specials from local restaurants—in which the restaurant members also get their own blog—check out The Chef’s Table blog, and chime in to get the party started.

Blogging is the best way to find out what’s really going on because there’s no journalistic integrity associated with it whatsoever, it’s all about your opinion with a dash of personality!

So blog, and follow us on Twitter! (see link to the right). Whether you’re just nosey, or you are interested in finding out about some of the cool stuff we see and people we meet each month as we are updating the SSW/WinkSouth site, you can’t beat the tweet! We’ll fill you in. And, as always, we’ll have fun!!!!!


-Steph

Resolutions I Can Actually Keep

Every January 1st it’s that same stupid promise I make to myself to lose ten pounds. I’m really going to do it this time, I tell all my friends. What a load of crap. I’m lying! I might lose five here or there, but it all comes home to mama—that is, back to my butt-- in the month of November and December.

How about some resolutions I can keep, like, this year I resolve to:

-Buy the right bra size.

-Stop shopping online after having a few cocktails.

-Make an appointment with a threader on the south shore (read the last blog if you have no idea what I’m talking about).

-Find that cute yoga instructor guy who popped into the hot yoga class one day to help us with our ‘positions’. While in my downward facing dog, he ‘positioned’ himself behind me to ‘fix’ my pose. Now that was hot.

-Go to a tarot card reader to find out my life’s destiny.

-Talk to strangers.

-Spend more time at the beach this summer.

-Eat salt and vinegar potato chips when I crave them.

-Shower every day.

-Bring my dog to the vet to finally figure out what that thing is that’s growing near her butt.


There! That’s ten things that I can actually do this year. Much better than “losing weight”…who needs it!

So, what are you gonna do?

-Steph

Brow Beating

Sometimes waxing should be left to the professionals.

As the holidays approached, I took a good look in the mirror and realized that my Italian heritage was catching up with me. Hairy arms, hairy eyebrows, hairy lip…ugh. And, it’s the middle of the friggin winter, so no hiding behind a tan. I didn’t have the time to go to the salon for a facial and professional waxing so I decided to take it on myself.

Over the years I’ve become quite good at fixing the lip-stache. I remember years ago calling up my best friend, Tracy, in total embarrassment that I had a “lip problem”.

“I’m a freak! Oh, my God, I have to take care of this ‘situation’…what do I do?” I pleaded.

She laughed, because, although she and I are the same age (okay, she’s six months younger than I), she is far more worldly than I.

“Honey,” she laughed, “Go get a wax job. Everyone does it!”

“Do you?” I asked in amazement.

“Of course!” she confirmed without flinching.

Oh, so, I’m not a freak? That was an enlightening moment. And one that I look back on with complete admiration (I love my friend for telling me the truth), fascination (why had I not thought of this myself), and humble-ation (I am what I am).

Wax, since then, has become a close and personal friend of mine (lip, arms, bikini)…Hallelujah!

My eyebrows, however, are unchartered territory. I find that to hurt the worst (I know, go figure). And, therefore, I avoid it. But, there I stood looking at that ‘almost unibrow’ in the mirror, and I had to act fast.

I heated up the wax in the microwave, plastered on the stickers from the box that show you how your brows should be, and started slabbing on the goo above the left eye to get rid of that ‘mess’. This is gonna be great. Oh, how wrong was I?

Okay, well, the slab-on was painless, the pull-off was not only painful but took most of my brow with it! I couldn’t stop it. That yellow wax had adhered itself to almost every follicle and the yank off not only made me scream in pain, but when I looked at the clump in my hand I was holding what appeared to be a creepy caterpillar. I looked at my eyebrow. Not a lot of hair left with a couple of bald spots!

Okay, so now I have a bald brow and a hairy brow, the only way to fix it is to have two bald brows…right?

Well, as I’m applying the same procedure to the right side I notice that the wax is dripping…On my damn eyelashes!!!...That is the only part of my face that I actually want hair!!!!!! Stop!

I stop, and start trying to pull it off my eyelashes but it’s already adhered itself. (Mother F-er!!). That’s what I yelled (in full). I finished up the right brow and had to call it a night.

I had yellow wax hanging off of my eyelashes for at least three days. Thank God for mascara. It’s gone now, taking a few more of my lashes with it, and from now on I’m going to the salon for the brow wax. Unless someone has a secret to this that they can share…Cause I can’t figure it out.


-Steph

A Holiday Hater’s 12-Step Program

For many years now, the holiday season has felt like a hassle to me. I do have faint childhood memories of being super-excited to jump out of bed at 5:00 a.m. to see what jolly old St. Nick had left for me under the tree. And, when my kids were small, I did have fun staying up until the wee hours of the morning to make sure Santa wrapped everything just right, and each kid got equal amounts of goodies under the tree and in their stocking. I’d make sure Santa had a bite of his peanut butter kiss cookie, and a sip of milk. I admit, I used to find Christmas Eve enchanting.

Now, the grumpy old scrooge that I have become loathes the season, seeing it purely as an expensive party that I have neither the time nor money for. Horrible, I know.

I think the problem is that I’m a procrastinator. (That’s a huge thing to own up to, so I expect someone to give me an ‘at a girl’ pat on the back!). And, as a result, I’m often late. Late for meetings, late for deadlines, late to pick up the kids from practice, late to arrive for a dinner party, and, oh, I’m always running against the clock to catch a plane. It’s stressful. Why do I do that to myself? Do I have too much to do? Have I not figured out the concept of time? Am I scatter-brained? Irresponsible? I hope not. I don’t think I am. I guess it’s my own little character flaw that I now must deal with. And, I’m going to start dealing with it by dealing with Christmas.

Every year I’m the lady who is rolling up to the tree farm a week before Christmas to find the best leftover evergreen available. I’m also the woman who is barreling through the mall two days before the big day with three shopping bags in each hand, sweating and swearing as I push my way through the crowd. One year, while waiting for a car to pull out of a parking spot so that I could pull in (blinker on and all), this nasty little elf of a woman scooted in to the spot before me. I patiently waited for her to get out of the car and extended my warm wishes for the holiday season by shouting, “Merry Christmas, you bitch!”.

Oh no, what have I become?! I’m like the nightmare before Christmas.

I just realized how pathetic I am. Last year, I don’t think I even put any decorations up other than a wreath and some candles in the window. And it’s been years since I sent out Christmas cards.

I want to be like my friend who called the other day to let me know she finished all of her Christmas shopping. She’s had her decorations out since a week before Thanksgiving, and she seems peaceful and happy as the holidays approach.

You know what they say, before you can fix a problem, you have to acknowledge that you have one. I’m a holiday-hater. There, I said it. I’ve hit my rock bottom, and, I want to change. Not for anyone else, but for me.

I’m finally ready to start my 12-step program for the 12 days of Christmas.

I’m going to:
1.) Set up decorations.
2.) Start my shopping.
3.) Get the tree this weekend (or maybe next weekend).
4.) Send out Christmas cards (with a photo of the kids).
5.) Play Christmas music.
6.) Host a holiday party.
7.) Give gifts from the heart.
8.) Watch “It’s a Wonderful Life”.
9.) Pray for peace on earth.
10.) Bake cookies for Santa.
11.) Hug my kids.
12.) Go to church and remember the real meaning of the season.

I’m tired of allowing Christmas to stress me out. This year, it’s going to be merry!

Ho ho ho.

-Steph

Dating Disasters

I’ve been single for a few years now, and dating, which used to be an exciting prospect, is now dreaded and disturbing to me. Take the last four guys I had dates with (two of which were first and last dates). They all had very different personalities, yet they all were very much alike. Before I get into that, here’s a brief summary of the initial interaction:

We meet in a bar for a drink. The conversation starts out nice enough with the expected typical topics: Where do you live? What do you do for work? Favorite pastime? Any kids? And then the obvious follow-up, “So, have you been married? Tell me about your relationship.” I like to skim right over that one. No need to disclose too much on the first date (or in my case, no need to send the poor guy running for the door).

So I say, “Oh, you know. Great guy…just didn’t work out.” But when the tables are turned and I’m asking him the relationship question I get all the gory details about what an awful, terrible person she was. I hear how she drank too much, had anger management issues, or she cheated on the poor poor guy…(who never ever did anything wrong, and was always 100% dedicated to his girl…uh huh). This can go on for a full hour to the point where I’ll be on my sixth glass of wine, steam piping out of my ears, and I’m eyeballing the cute guy at the end of the bar.

No wonder she left him, this guy’s an egotistical jerk! And what is this, a therapy session? I’m not ready to start analyzing you until the third date, so if you need a therapist, I know a great one in Plymouth I can refer you to. In the meantime, how about another drink??????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And, then of course, it crosses my mind, if all of these guys are bashing their exes, what is mine saying to his new girlfriend about me?????? I can just hear now, “she seemed like such a nice woman, but I think she’s an undiagnosed schizophrenic, a real screwball…” Oh, Great!!!

When it comes to bad dates, it turns out I haven’t had the worst of them. My friend, who shall remain anonymous for the time being, gets the gold in the dating disaster category. She’s met most of them on Match.com, the virtual meat market where guys troll for lonely women (not a big fan of Match)….But, my friend hangs in there, perhaps for entertainment purposes alone. And soon, she’ll be sharing her stories with our WinkSOUTH readers!

Watch for our new series, Miss-Match, coming soon!

And if you have some horror stories of your own, post a snippet of them here on the blog to get the discussion rolling! Is it really that bad out there?

Or, write your own article to be shared with everyone on Miss-Match! (Names will be changed to protect the innocent)!

-Steph