Monthly Archives: October 2008

Pressure Post

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OK, I thought about posting this, then thought better of it, then got PRESSURE to post it. And I have succumbed. Here goes:

 

I found my old boyfriend on Facebook. Probably a common story in this day and age. And it turns out we both live in the same town.  Or at least close enough (Santa Monica and Mar Vista). And it’s been long enough that it’s OK to get together. 20 (freakin) years. Wanna feel old? Try to imagine a relationship that  ENDED 20 years ago. I think you know what I’m saying. It’s all water under the bridge at this point. Or else you have an ulcer for holding on to that crap for so long. Get over it!

 

Anyway, we wrote on each other’s walls (21st Century metaphor for something sexual? Maybe, but not in this case), and made plans for coffee. As we approached the actual date, another old friend was going to be in town at the same time, so we all planned to get together.

 

We met for brunch, something we did as 20-somethings on a daily basis, it seems. And it was fine. A little awkward at first, as you check-in with each other and see where everyone’s at — does he still laugh at this kind of joke? Is he still as liberal as he used to be? How will we all get along? 

 

Well, we got along great. It was fun. we laughed and talked for hours. HOURS. I can’t even tell you the last time I sat and talked with a girlfriend for that long. It was fun.

 

One of us has more tattoos than he ever did before, and one of us has more gray hair than she did back then. (Who?) Two of us have children, and two of us have gainful employment. Pretty different than 20 years ago. But what could possibly be the same after so long?

 

My old boyfriend, by the way, is known as OBJ, which stands for Old Boyfriend Jim — not that he was ever old, just that he was my old boyfriend. Significant because I then had a New Boyfriend Jim, or NBJ, who then became HJ, or Husband Jim. 

 

And check this out — honestly, I couldn’t make this up: OBJ is currently dating a woman named Sarah. 

 

Yup, seriously. Honest. 2 couples named Jim and Sarah.

 

And on top of how nice it was to see my friends from my old (20 years ago) life, they told me this piece of trivia: a movie we all worked on in 1985 or something — a crazy piece of exploitative crap we cut our teeth on as baby filmmakers — AND all had parts in — this piece of shit low-budget trash film had in the cast a young unknown actor who’s now quite famous (and rightly so) — Peter Krause. I never would have remembered him in a million years because it was all a memory I’d have preferred to forget, but there you have it: a Hollywood story, Ladies and Gentlemen. Sarah Auerswald and Peter Krause in the same movie. Look it up on IMDB, I dare you!

 

UPDATE: OMG! I’m not credited for Blood Harvest!!! Where’s my agent????
An original post by Sarah Auerswald.

Economic Woes Hit Me In My Roots

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My roots
I posted about the economy at my other blog outlet, LA Moms Blog, about how I need to make more responsible choices with my money these days. And I have a major amount of responsibility to make up for when it comes to my hair.

 

I have a wonderful stylist/colorist, who’s a great guy, good at his job, and very reasonably-priced for what he does. However, it’s still too much money for me to be spending. 

 

I used to get highlights and I really loved them, even though it cost about $165 including tip. And since I’m a woman of a certain age, my hair’s current natural color is gray, and I don’t care to have people know that, thank you very much. So you know what that means: I was spending that money every 6-8 weeks.

 

Well, it’s just ridiculous anymore. Last time I went in, I switched to a single color instead of highlights, saving myself about $50, but since I’m sure you can do the math, it’s still too much money. I love my hair, and I really love my stylist, and I feel badly that I may be costing him part of his living, but the reality is the reality: I can’t afford to have him do my hair.

 

I’m going to try the local beauty school for a cut, crossing my fingers the whole time. And to cover my gray I’m going back to the drugstore, like I used to years ago, because a box costs about $8. Sometimes there are even coupons! 

 

It’s time for responsibility, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go around with roots showing!
An original post by Sarah Auerswald.

Rutting Stags, Is It?

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Check out how this psychologist reads the behavior on Wall Street: First of all, our financial system is based on illusion — or rather, the shared belief that it all works. So when we all believe it works, then it does. And when we don’t, it doesn’t.

 

Plus listen to the testosterone reference and the pronouncement that women should run Wall Street. 

 

I have one thing to say: IT’S ABOUT TIME.

 

Audio from npr’s Morning Edition, October 6, 2008.
An original post by Sarah Auerswald.

Profile In Courage

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I tried to embed this video no fewer than 8 times and it hasn’t worked, so I give up and I’m just linking to it. It’s of Richard Trumka, of the AFL-CIO, talking about unionism, the election, racism, and why every union member should be voting for Obama. 

 

It’s truly inspirational and I recommend watching it right now.
An original post by Sarah Auerswald.

Let’s Clear The Air And My Head With A Meme, Shall We?

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This is one of those THINGS I used to hate to see in an email. Used to just delete on sight. But this one is really pretty funny. I have smiled every time I read anyone’s answers to this. And I could use a laugh…

 

My friend and fellow LA Moms Blogger Florinda does a meme right, I guess.  Here goes:

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car):  Oscar Camry 

2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe):  Heath Bar Crunch Croc (SO not a gangsta name, but cracking me up)

3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Black Dog (fits)

4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Jane New York (nope)

5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first three letters of your last name, first two of your first name): Auesa (kinda)

6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Brown Mojito (ridic)

7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): Dewey Edgar or Edgar Dewey. (either works)


8. STRIPPER NAME ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Lauren Chocolate (works) 

9. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your fifth grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Sarner Seattle (not from 5th grade I can’t remember that far back, so I picked another grade, closer to my present)

10. SPY NAME (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Summer Tuberose (kinda stripper-like)

 

11. CARTOON NAME (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Blueberry Skirt (eh) 

12. HIPPIE NAME (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Cereal Willow


FUN! And a nice diversion.

My kids’ hippie names were: Oatmeal Apple Tree and Waffle Peach Tree. LOVE those!
An original post by Sarah Auerswald.

Close Encounter Of The Racist Kind

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I had a conversation with a racist this afternoon. Not by choice, you understand. It was a professional setting. And what was nominally the topic of conversation had of course nothing to do with race. And yet, the racist MADE it about race.

 

Interesting, right? ‘Cuz looking back on the afternoon and the years I’ve known this person, it all led up to this moment. 

 

I had a feeling the person was a racist. There had been statements, here and there, nothing overt. But ya got the sense, you know?

 

And then today, there it was — it wasn’t said TO me, but it went right past me – right out in the open — in a room with other people — out loud — in 2008 — are you getting how F-ing shocking it was for me????? Are you getting how I wasn’t raised that way???? Are you hearing my outrage?  Well, I hope the racist heard me, too.

 

Because I said something. Even though almost no one else did. I was inarticulate and I stammered a little — I blame the outrage for that (I was shaking) — but I said it wasn’t OK to say those words out loud.

 

At least the person it was said to was more articulate. THAT person was well-spoken and didn’t drop to the level of the racist when responding. It was inspirational.

 

I’ve already been over it in my head 25 times and have written myself some killer lines I should have would have could have said. But that’s life: no do-overs.

 

I’ve never experienced racism in its naked form before. I guess that means I’ve lived a sheltered life. I guess. I’m shaken and I’m disgusted. 
An original post by Sarah Auerswald.