Oprah, Meghan&Harry, and things that are bothering me

You know what I thought you’d enjoy on this sunny, warm day? A list of crap that annoyed me in the last few days. You’re welcome!

  • Ok Oprah isn’t bothering me. What’s bothering me is all the posts I’m reading about how great of an interviewer she is, how good she was at getting info, how masterful she is, blah blah blah. Who is just figuring this out?? I guess everyone born in the 2ks? Well I’m here to tell you that this is no surprise to any Gen Xer. What you fools got for 2 hours last Sunday, we got EVERY DAY. Every day. 4pm. Oprah’s on! Where’s everybody gone? Oprah’s on! Who remembers that jingle? Every day we got Oprah. She covered all the topics. It could be a hard hitting abuse story, a celebrity interview, or it could be her rolling out a cart of fat talking about her weight loss. You never knew what you were going to get. It was awesome. Sure, now you have Ellen and Hoda and Dr. Phil (he bothers me) – but they don’t compare to the big O. Is she a wacko? Ofcourse she is. But she loves bread. She’s been on Weight Watchers for 100 years and still looks exactly the same. We know more about her BFF Gail then her man Stedman, but who cares, he seems like a bore anyway. If you’re coming out of fog with some new respect for the queen O, welcome. Join the many who have followed her every wig-wearing move since we rushed home, cracked open a Diet Coke and ate a “fat free” loaf of bread while we watched her show.
  • Meghan & Harry…where to begin. First and foremost – the racist attacks that Meghan dealt with in the UK were absolutely horrible and absolutely not surprising – UK media is the WORST. Remember how they killed Diana by chasing her into a tunnel wall? Why are we shocked they are bad people? It was also sad to hear that Meghan got to the brink of suicide while pregnant with Archie, heartbreaking. No one deserves that. I thought she was really credible and calm and intelligent. I bought into a lot of what she was talking about. I don’t think she’s lying or making anything up. THAT SAID, there were things that were bothersome about that conversation. The first time she lost me a little was when she said she didn’t know that you’d have to curtsy to meet the Queen, and that she didn’t know how to do it. Someone had to run out and show her. Really? You didn’t google “royal etiquette” or “what should I do when I meet the queen”? I’ve googled those things. Seriously. The second time I rolled my eyes during the interview was Harry saying they lost security and felt totally unsafe in Canada. You guys don’t have money for security? Ummmm… what? Then you left Canada and moved to Malibu. You wanted to feel safe from the media so you went to the most paparazzo ridden part of the US? I don’t know dog…I’m not feelin’ it. And then the bombshell! Someone in the family was worried about Archie’s skin tone. This is bad. What kind of turd brings that up? Who could it be? Who? Could it be…the diabolical man that drove Harry’s mother crazy?? The dude that married his mom while having a full-blown, public affair the entire time? It’s Charles! It has to be. I’m convinced it’s Charles. Do I think he’s a racist? Who knows. Probably. But what we DO know for sure is that he is the villain. Always has been. It’s Charles. Just watch The Crown. Last bothersome thing about the conversation was when Oprah asked if they were getting paid for this interview and Meghan said no. No? Is that your final answer? Wanna phone a friend? Come on. I’m feeling like they should have known that WE knew. We knew. We know. They may not be getting paid, but they are making a profit. Somehow. I know nothing is for free. Oprah taught me that.
  • Moving away from Oprah and the Royals…anyone else not going nutty trying to get a vaccine? I know there’s issues with the rollout etc. but I’m just not going crazy about hunting it down. I’m hoping the people that need it are getting it – first responders, teachers, retail workers, etc. I’m also hoping that people that are a little….let’s say….more cautious than I am about Covid get it before me too. Anyone who is in a panic or has anxiety about Covid, go first. I’m ok with it. Having people go before me in line has never caused me anxiety. Please, go first. I’m fine. I’m following rules. I’m following guidelines. But I’m totally not upset by people getting it before me. I only feel safer the more people I hear have it. Not bothered by this at all.
  • Last one. Let me set the scene. I’m coming back from running an errand. I pull up to a light. I’m in the right lane. To my left is a big, fat black SVU, SUV. Whatever. I am listening to a podcast (about murder) and absent-mindedly turn and look at the driver. Nice looking middle-aged dude drinking a big iced coffee. Light turns green and he floors it. Like….this huge-ass car makes a bunch of roaring noises and he floors it. Needless to say, he won. He won the imaginary speedway race he was having with my Subaru. My very safe, very boring, very opposite-of-threatening Subaru. I was so busy turning the volume down on my podcast that he totally got ahead of me. Not that I was even trying. I didn’t even think of it. What is wrong with men? And yes, I think I can generalize here and say men are the ones doing these pretend races. Congrats dude. You beat me. You are now king of the 1/4 mile between lights when you were ahead of me. When I literally pulled up next to him at the very next light, I had visions of turning to him and smiling or gloating or whatever. Or even better, maybe even flooring it myself when the light turned green. But I didn’t. I didn’t do any of that. I let him drive away, small penis problems and all. But it did bother me.

Always go to bed angry and other sage pieces of advice

I met my husband when I was 19. It was my 3rd week at college. I had just had cream cheese for the first time in my life the week before (true story, on a NYC bagel). It was a good month. We started dating and married a year after I graduated.

To say we were unprepared was and is an understatement. This was pre-internet and pre-therapy being a cool thing. We were on our own. All I had was Cosmo magazine and Oprah to help me.

My husband and I are opposites. Two very different people. Like super different. I’m glass half full, he’s glass… someone stole his glass! I usually think things are going to work out, and he routinely plans for disaster.

When we first got together, we fought all the time. It was nuts. And I read all the magazines and did all the quizzes. He’s a Cancer, I’m a Gemini – it’ll never work out! He’s emotional, I’m abrupt – it’ll never work out! I’d listen to all the couples on Oprah and all the advice Dr. Phil (before he was Dr. Phil) would dish out. I tried it all. I made him try it all. Some of it worked. Most didn’t.

Know what works for us? Going to bed pissed. Yes. If you’re having a huge fight and you’re at your wits end – go to bed! It’s fine. Sometimes we go to bed pissed for like 2 nights – maybe 3. It’s ok. Tensions ease. We slowly forget what we were so passionate about. Not everything can or needs to be resolved all the time. There are many arguments that have been forgotten rather than resolved. I’m no therapist, and I’m guessing some crap will come back to haunt us and it’s probably not healthy – but you aren’t here for health right? Anyway try it – it’s worked for us for 28 years and counting. Instead of counting sheep, count grievances. Lol.

Here’s something else. Ours is not a 50/50 relationship. It never was. It never will be. We are not equal partners. Now, before you lose your undies over that statement let me explain. I’m not talking just about money. And I’m certainly not talking about someone being subservient or less than. I’m talking about ebbs and flows of a long relationship where one person bares the brunt of what it takes to keep us going. It can be emotional. And it can be physical. After I had my daughter, at a very young age, I fell into what I thought was a funk. But now I know that it was postpartum depression. Nothing too serious but I was having a moment… a moment that lasted about 7 months. I was lonely in New York City, where most gals my age were still single and partying. I had just decide to quit my job and stay home full time, which was such a luxury but only added to my isolation. During that time I was useless. I took care of our baby girl but nothing else. No laundry. No cooking. Nothing. He did it all. He worked. He paid all the bills, shopped for grocery’s etc. He let me get through it. When I had my son 5 years later, I quit my job again and stayed home. This time I was full of energy and creativity and decided to start my own wedding planning company. He was commuting 2 hours a day to a job he hated, but he let me do it. We begged and borrowed help with the kids and I planned weddings. We have never ever “counted” who does what. Who makes what. Who did what. We don’t do it because it’s not even-steven. We don’t do it because there will always be a winner and a loser. It’s certainly not fair, but who said it would be?

One more … we do a lot of stuff without each other, or we used to atleast – before Covid. Now we’re attached at the hip, god help us. In all seriousness we have never been a couple that couldn’t do things alone. Part of this is that my job involves travel – or it used to. Beautiful, solitary, airport-bar filled travel. He’s used to me being away and I’m used to me being away too. Absence and hotel rooms make a heart grow fonder. It’s true.

We are still a work in progress. Still have lots to figure out. I’m not gonna lie, it was and is hard. But there was a no escape route. We never had one and we never wanted one. We may be very different in many ways, but the fundamental things we are totally agreed on. How we want to live. Who we want around us. What we want for our kids. There’s never been confusion there. Here’s something else we’ve known since day one, he is my person and I am his. I’m the lid to his pot. The cream cheese to his NYC bagel.

Not following advice since circa 1991

Nobody cares. Work harder.

Well that’s not exactly true. Lots of people care, but I really should work harder. Here’s how I came to this aha! moment (I speak your name Oprah!).
I was in the middle of a whining tirade this morning, complaining about the usual stuff people complain about (oh my job, my house , my blah blah blah) when a good friend said,” nobody cares, work harder.
Geez. Fine.
There are days when this advice would have made me crawl up and go back to bed, or cry in a corner. There are days when I would have said,” F you! I deserve to vent and fume.”
But today, it’s what I needed to hear. There’s no time for tucking into self-pity. What am I an infant? I need to be soothed? Come on! I’m no martyr. Atleast 4 times a day I almost buy a vanilla latte . How bad could things be? Answer: not bad at all.
So tuck that in your pocket or purse for a rainy day. Don’t say I never gave you anything. Good night.