i slam doors when i'm mad

i never realized how much my mother has influenced me until i started writing this blog. i'm serious.

no, she wasn't a door slammer, but her big sister was -- the very reason it was the ultimate no-no when i was growing up.

let me rephrase that -- the ultimate hell-no when i was growing up & my mom wasn't going to have it in her house.

the very reason i do it in mine.

may have been the first thing i did when i was old enough to have my own. imagine me signing the papers, walking over the threshold and

SLAM

here's why i think door slamming works. it's the watered-down version of throwing a stack of dishes at the wall, or firing a bullet through the television screen like elvis supposedly did. kind of like stark raving mad-LITE.

& besides -- are you kidding? i'd never hurt my own stuff. took me a long time to acquire it. not only that, but i really like it.

today was a real door-slammer for me. think i did it 3 times before lunchtime. if no one's home, sometimes i'll throw in a couple of long, loud monkey screams but there were painters outside, re-staining my garage doors that look like hell. &, no -- i didn't slam the garage doors. they're the roll-down kind.

so why was i so pissed today?

just got some not great news about something i'd put my blood & guts into. someone wasn't quite as impressed with it as i was. not nearly as impressed.

so, what did i do? after i slammed the doors, you mean?

3 times?

got on my old buddy facebook, of course. isn't that the 2014 salve for the soul? all your pals in one place ready to give you a big old

didn't have to search long. there's a woman on there who's the real rainbows & unicorns type. here's what was on her page:

after reading that little ray of sunshine, i think i went & slammed the door a couple of more times. ate a dozen more lemon cookies. didn't mention that part before, did i? my bad.

with only a few crumbs left in the box, i switched FB back on & began scrolling. here's what i found:

best damn idea i heard all day.

here's another one from the archives:

can i hear an amen?

thanks for listening. i feel better now.

TTFN

holding my nose in idaho

maybe you didn't know this, but i check dear abby every single morning & this morning, she finally had something to say that i can work with.

this woman's been married to the "love of her life" for eight years. Great husband, father & provider except there's one problem: he bathes once a week & brushes his teeth even less often than that. that's two problems, i guess.

he makes the move on her & she's so totally grossed out she can't go there. she's tried "making bath time fun" -- i think i catch her drift but the thought of his raunchy, greasy hair stuck to the bar of soap kinda kills it for me. anyway, she says she's not up for the rub-a-dub-dub routine every night.

she doesn't mince words. even spills the beans on what everybody else has been saying about his nastiness. nothing works. she's a clean person & keeps hoping he's going to follow her lead. advice, she asks?

just so you know, gentle reader i don't read abby's advice before giving mine, so here we go.

dear holding my nose in idaho,

did you ever see that episode of i love lucy, the one where she & ricky are in a huge fight & she draws a line down the middle of the apartment, straight through their bedroom?

you've got to set down the gauntlet, girl.

next wash day, change your side of the bed only. that's right, just leave his nasty, stinky sheets on there. stop washing his clothes. stop dropping his suits @ the cleaners. feed him on dirty dishes. serve his coffee in the same crusty mug. don't wash his bathroom sink. i'd say don't windex the toothpaste off his side of the mirror, but i don't see where that's an issue.

you've got to be hard core on this or it's never going to work.

so, what does dear abby have to say?

give me a second to read it.

okay, I'm back.

lame & useless.

if he has the energy to make advances @ the end of a long workday, he should have enough energy to bathe & brush his teeth. unless you plan on wearing a clothespin on your nose during marital relations, you should insist upon it.

abby, are you smoking weed? what do you think she's been doing, you dolt???

how does abby keep her job? i don't get it.

word's going to get around about beingmarthalouisehunter.com & the phone's going to start ringing. just saying...

TTFN

for those of you who're new around here, that's tigger-speak for "ta-ta for now."

maudie's & goodwill

about 5 seconds from my house. I go there a lot. kinda like a "norm!" @ cheers moment sometimes, but you still don't care if you're wearing mascara or not. it's just that kind of place.

they've got this blistering-hot hot sauce -- in case you think i'm a wenie, i won a jalapeno eating contest in college, so i know what i'm talking about... food's great, too, but that's not the best thing. it's the people. the staff.

they're all so damn happy. tonight, i asked the hostess how she was doing. it's so fun being here, she said. i just love my job so much it's not even like coming to work.

now, seriously, how many people do you know who say that & mean it? they've had the same people working there since beans were new, & that's saying something.

this is the place where clinton came two weeks ago, if anybody saw my FB post. they said he was a hoot, posing for everybody's selfies. of all the nights for me to stay home eating a bowl of cereal.... damnit, janet!

here's the other thing -- there's a goodwill a coupla doors down. people call it the gucci goodwill (GGW to people "in the know") because all the donations are from the neighborhood -- not like i'm some ritzy socialite (as if) but somebody's bringing in some pretty cool stuff. not the women's dept. -- you can forget it on that -- but the men's? now, you're going to think this sounds totally gross & i guess it is, wearing somebody else's shoes -- but someone i know got a pair of real-live alligator dress shoes. i guess they were dead-live. no wait, real-dead. whatever, they were slick.

sometimes you can score some pretty awesome albums, too. they always seem to have the same helen reddy's "i am woman, hear me roar" -- don't know why somebody hasn't snapped that one up. & a little anne murray "snow bird" -- also still there. they had the partridge family & i was so pissed when it was scratched to hell. i got wayne newton's "red roses for a blue lady." come on -- i hadn't heard that since my mom played it on the hi-fi, & old wayne still rocks it.

all right, i'm going to let you in on a secret, so don't tell everybody -- you cool?  okay, it's the auction. most of it you wouldn't touch with a 12 foot pole, but darlin', i've scored some good shit. 

imagine someone who cleans out their grandma's house after she kicks off. ew, what's THIS, i can just hear them saying....  it's a fine-as-hell oil painting, you idiot. so here i was a couple of weeks ago. grabbed myself up a couple of bullfighting paintings. & no, they weren't velvet &, no, elvis wasn't the matador. the technique, the brushstrokes...  absolutely killer.

got myself a nifty little iron chair with a tufted seat for my vanity. a waterford bowl. i'm telling you, the GGW doesn't suck.

i also hang out at estate sales. you can really score at those. gotta get there early, though.

oh, & did i tell you i got some incredible hartman luggage? coolest yellow lamp...  i think i might have a problem.

so, back to maudie's. i absolutely recommend the tacos al pastor & the chicken flaquitos, or taquitos or flautitos - i never can remember what they're called, oh -- & the avocado tomatillo sauce.

did you notice i didn't mention when the auction IS?  as my mother used to say, you don't have to tell everything you know.

TTFN

my faith in humanity is restored

have you ever had something that bugs the wahoola out of you? sure you have, & if not, you must be either totally zen, brain dead.

or maybe you're just a nicer person than i am, which is a distinct possibility. okay -- so here's the deal. & this was a big one because it had to do with where i live.

specifically, the livestock that live across the street, like 6 "mother-may-I" steps from the end of my driveway. that's 3 goats, don't know how many chickens, a goose & huge pig. & this is in a pretty decent neighborhood in the middle of a big city, i might add.

& it drives me absolutely nuts, i'm not going to lie.

not only did my neighbor tell me to jump in the lake when i suggested he move the livestock pen across from his front door instead of mine, but my own mother turned on me. not that she thinks it's peachy-keen either, but she told me to get over it, because nothing i was going to do would change it, so i should just take a big old chill-pill.

well, i tried, but i couldn't get it to go down. it got stuck in my throat, or my craw... suffice it to say that it was a gargantuan bur under my saddle.

then, the strangest thing happened this morning. my neighbor said he wanted my input on the new fence & rock wall he's putting up.

no way! seriously?

it sounds like it's going to be pretty nice, too. so there you are.

so, what's the moral of this story? good things come to those who wait? miracles happen? the sun will come out tomorrow?

all i know is that i'm tickled to death, & yes -- my faith in humanity is restored.

does anybody want to join me in doing the endzone dance?

TTFN .... & for anybody who didn't read my post about the grumpy guy @ the liquor store, & you know who you are, TTFN is tigger-speak for ta-ta for now.

so, TTFN!

that grumpy guy @ the liquor store

he really kind of drives me nuts.

he always wears a purple basketball jersey with the name of some stupid team on it -- i think it's the louisiana lakers, & if you're fan, well, if you'd seen him in it, you'd want to yank the stupid jersey off his wiry little body. i just wish it didn't show so much underarm hair, but maybe that's just me.

beady little close-set eyes narrowed, he always has a scowl on his face, like he's totally pissed-off at the world. maybe i would be, too if i had to card the little punks trying to buy beer all day long, and then spend the night shift pretending not to notice when the old lady winos come in for another bottle before last call.

i know what you're thinking -- that to know so much about him, i must spend a fair amount of time at the counter myself. if i weren't such a sweetheart, I'd tell you to mind your own business.

anyway - imagine my surprise this afternoon to find el grumpo with a goofy smile on his lips. a regular little happy camper, he was.

he found religion.

not the bible-thumping type. the,  I've-just-been-to-anger-management-type, because otherwise, his old lady was making him hit the road.

he called her that, not me.

well, my heavens, i said breathlessly-- tell me more.

with giddy excitement, he told me about a book he'd just read -- positivity by barbara fredrickson, & an online course by a man named john schinerer -- said his blog's right here on wordpress -- positive.psychologyblog.

so, check it out if you want to. or if your old lady says you have to want to.

you know me -- just doing my job to make this world a better place.

TTFN

learned that from my homeboy, tigger.

it means, ta-ta for now!

watching my reflection on my computer screen

admit it -- you've done it, too.  when the light hits it just right, the screen is like a mirror. like catching a glimpse of yourself in a storefront window. 

you know how you pretend you're not watching yourself because everyone inside the store will think you're a freak?

well, that's what's happening right now as i scrutinize my deformed nostrils on my computer screen while sitting in the  middle of starbucks. i just keep getting cooler all the time. 

my daughter & i were having dinner @ the café inside nordstroms department store -- you know, the place with the yummy salads where the waiter always brings a chocolate-covered peppermint stick with your bill  so you'll tip him extra? i really love that place.

anyway -- while we were eating, she informed me with a snide little laugh that my nostrils are different sizes.

well, guess what, hot rod, i told her. yours are, too.

what????  

she didn't believe it until she whipped out her phone & took a nostril selfie.  she just had to take a picture of mine, too, of course & posted them side-by-side on instagram where i'm sure they've gone viral -- 1,000,000 hits & counting.

okay, tell the truth. you're checking your own nostrils on your screen right about now, aren't you?

are they the same size? just curious.

TTFN   ta-ta for now

that piña colada song

what do you want to hear about today? more body language, more miley cyrus, more dear abby?

okay, dear abby it is.

i keep a stack of the stupid ones around here, so let's see what i have.

&, incidentally, i don't read abby's response before writing mine, just to keep everyone honest.

okay. the letter is signed, "second to a screen name."

woman has been married for 7 years with 2 kids. husband has what she describes as an "internet addiction."  he's online all night long from the time she goes to bed to when she wakes up to take the kids to school. (this couldn't be going anywhere good.)  okay, let's see what else... 

uh-oh. she did some digging & discovered he's got lots of different profiles of lots of different dating sites. (well, you saw THAT one coming.)  when she confronted him, he said he has no interest in having an affair, that he's been depressed for some time & that it's his way of escaping. she told him he needs a therapist & he said she shouldn't be hurt because it's only "make believe."

their relationship has taken a serious dive. she doesn't trust him on the computer anymore, doesn't find him attractive anymore & no longer feels attractive herself & says she doesn't know how to be supportive when he won't admit he has a problem.

ahhhhhh, "second to a screen name".....  what to do, oh what to do.

okay. here's what i'd tell her:

he’s a freak, & hell, yes, he’s having an affair. & be supportive? are you kidding? instead of being in bed with you all kissy-face & huggy-body, he’s trolling the internet & if you think he’s just on “dating sites,” well, girl -- you're more cut off from reality than he is. you can either take care of business or you can wait until the FBI rings the doorbell & confiscates your computer.

have the internet yanked out, like pronto. what's he going to do then? start doing it on his phone? get that turned off, too. okay, let's think about this. you don't say whether he has a job or not, but i doubt it because he'd be asleep on his desk all day which means he's probably lost his job now, too.

all right - here's another idea. do you remember that Piña Colada song?

you know, "if you like piña coladas, & gettin' caught in the rain.... if you're not into yoga & you're into champagne," where the loser dude is doing the same thing except with personals ads? the woman writes an ad of her own, he answers it & meets her for a date & they're happily-ever-after again.

okay, scrap that. what a BS song -- i mean come ON!

you've got to dump this guy by sundown or your life is garbage, & if you think it's going to get any better, you're nuts.   men like having a warm place to put it, & trust me, they're usually putting it somewhere.

all righty, let's see what dear abby says:

#1 on the woman's agenda should be going to therapist herself before she gets all depressed, too.  #2, since his own "therapy" for depression isn't working, the wife can't fix his problem because only he can do that, so let's hope he comes to his senses while the marriage is still salvageable.

oh, dear, dear abby... you so clearly need my help. this marriage is not, i repeat not, salvageable & she needs to cut to the freaking chase already.

is that wrong?                TTFN    ta-ta for now

thanks, mom

today, i've just got to say it. my mom will send me canned emails sometimes -- the ones railing about  obama being a muslim, i delete faster than you can sarah palin. the cheesy, uplifting variety, i usually skim real quick so i won't feel guilty, & say, yeah, whatever ..... & delete those, too.

it's totally not my style to pass along this kind of thing, so don't get used to it -- my next post will be snarky, i promise.....................  so, THANKS, MOM!

to realize the value of a sister or brother, ask someone who doesn't have one.

to realize the value of ten years, ask a newly-divorced couple.

to realize the value of four years, ask a graduate.

to realize the value of one year, ask a student who's failed a final exam.

to realize the value of nine months, ask a mother who gave birth to a stillborn.

to realize the value of one month, ask a mother who's given birth to a premature baby.

to realize the value of one minute, ask a person who's missed the train, bus or plane.

to realize the value of one second, ask a person who's survived an accident.

to realize the value of a friend or family member:

LOSE ONE.

Time waits for no one. Treasure every moment you have.

female courting gestures

i'm still reading the book i got on body language & i'm loving it. it's called the definitive book of body language,

in case you're interested. it says that if you ask men who makes the 1st move in courtship amp; most of them will say they do.

wrong-a-mundo.

women are the initiators 90% of the time, or so says this book.

supposedly, there's a 5-step sequence chicks go through when meeting a person they find attractive

stage 1: after the man notices her, she'll hold his gaze for about 5 seconds, & turn away. man keeps watching to see if she does it again. most men are so dense that women have to do it an average of 3 times before a they even realize what's happening.

stage 2:  her fleeting smile -- a half-smile that's her green light for him to approach

stage 3:  she sits up straight to emphasize her boobs and crosses her legs to show them at their best advantage. she'll tilt her head to the side to expose her bare neck before playing with her hair for about 6 seconds, suggesting that she's grooming herself for him.

now, you women probably can't imagine having ever done this... just like me, i'm sure you're far too cool.

stage 4:  man approaches & tries making small talk -- some cheesy line like, what's your sign.

stage 5:  she'll find a way to touch him, which for novices means "accidentally" brushing his arm, the more experienced will touch it with their fingers, while the true hussy will simply cut to the chase & shake his hand.

okay, get ready because you're going to love this: women are more sexually-active when they're in the  middle of their cycle, the time they're more likely to conceive. whatttt? this sounds totally bad idea, but there you are.

List of women's most common gestures to show they're on the make. forgive me, the book says "available."

1.  head toss & hair flick. that means tossing it over her shoulders away from her face, something that even chicks with short hair do, which sounds totally senseless, but the gesture is intended to show that she cares how she looks. this also lets her expose her ARMPIT which allows her "sex perfume" to waft through the air.

oh, come on! I've got to start hanging out in bars so i can see this for myself.

2.  wets her lips & pouts with mouth slightly open.  this is done to make her face appear more "adolescent," as thicker, fuller lips are a signal of youthful femaleness. for the truly desperate, collagen is a must.

i'm not even going to mention what the book compares the wet lips to, especially when slathered in red lipstick ... as a "sexual invitation."

3.  self-touching -- the secret desire.  (please remember that i did NOT write this book)  when she slowly strokes her throat or thigh, she's saying that if he plays his cards right, he can do it, too.

4.  the submission signal of the limp wrist.  i know what you're thinking, and yes - the book says that not only do women do this, but also gay men -- i'm completely serious. it goes on to say that this gesture is a great attention grabber because birds will feign a damaged wing to distract prey away from their nests. oh, & this gesture is intended to show the man that he can dominate.  oh, forever more!

5.  i'm embarrassed to even write this one. she'll fondle a cylindrical object....  stem of her wine glass, a cigarette, maybe that tube of red lipstick she's just slathered on her pouty lips.  she'll even take her ring off her finger & put it back on several times. if you don't get the symbolism of that one, well -- I can't help you

6.  exposing the smooth underside of her wrist -- known to be an erotic area of the female body with more delicate skin. now, here's a little-known fact: it's the reason women apply their perfume there.

7.  glancing sideways over her raised shoulder -- the shoulder shape mimics the round shape of a breast. doing this with drooped eyelids is also a nice touch.

8 & 9.  rolling hips & pelvic tilt - i actually skimmed these, but they had to do with the sexual use of these areas & something or other about childbirth.

10.  sliding her purse towards him -- because of women's  "don't touch my damn purse" feelings, if she puts it close to him, it's a strong signal of intimacy. if she thinks he's a real fox, she'll even begin to fondle it.  even typing this, i'm really embarrassed to be a woman.

11.  tucking her leg under hers rump & the knee point -- double whammy on this one... gives her the opportunity to both point her knee at the man she's interested in, AND flash her thighs.

12.  the ever-sexy shoe fondle -- dangling her shoe off the end of her foot shows the phallic effect of the foot being thrusted in & out of the shoe. this action is said to especially unsettle men.  okay.....

13.  the leg twine --  by crossing her knees & pressing her top calf against her lower shin, it makes it look like she's got muscle tone even if she hasn't worked out for years. & being strong & healthy is a plus for good sex.

OMG   ......  enough said.

Guess it's TTFN    learned that from my homeboy, Tigger. It means ta-ta for now!

happy birthday to me

it's tomorrow, and i say, who cares?   I guess you could say the thrill is gone. here's what i've done since i was in my early 20's -- something ingenious, really. about mid-year, i begin telling myself that I'm already the next year older so it won't be such a shock when it gets here.  you should try it.

i used to really hate getting older. when i was whining about it a few years back, my mother looked at me and said, you know, martha -- you've had a lot of birthdays.

after i got over the indignity of her comment, i was left wondering why people apologize for being older. I mean, what's that about?

think about it.

here's what i said to my snotty little daughter the last time she made a disparaging comment to me about being old:

listen here, you little pipsqueak. i was kind of a hot babe when i was your age & you ain't got nothing on me.

come to think of it, you should be writing me a thank you note.

and you're grounded.

was that wrong?

TTFN - ta-ta for now

miley cyrus - i can't believe i'm writing about her either

the uproar & hoopla from the Video Music Awards show has died down. gratefully.

yet, I'm still having flashbacks of miley's disturbing, flesh-colored Daisy Dukes. if only I could wash my mind out with soap.  

her performance left me saying, honey, you can't dance so please give it up & that goes double for that nasty foam finger you kept putting in very unladylike places.    anyway, i've finally put my finger on the reason i was so appalled.

you're hanging on the edge of your seat, right?    & in case you're wondering, my finger is not, i repeat, not a foam finger.

her being such an attention-hog really got on my nerves --  i mean, wasn't it supposed to be robin thicke's moment in the sun?   and, btw, isn't he FINE?  the song he sang,  "blurred lines"  -- well, i just love it.   let's all  sing a few bars, shall we?

hey, hey, hey......... hey, hey, hey...........hey, hey, hey

if you can't hear what I'm tryin' to say....   if you can't read from the same page...

maybe I'm goin' crazy....  maybe I'm goin' blind...    maybe I'm goin' out of my

mi--i-i-i---i-i-i -- i-i-i---i-i-i-i-i-i-i---nd

you're going to have that song stuck in your head all day now, aren't you?

you're welcome.

okay, here's the other reason.  i love miley's music --  i seriously do -- & when she ditched the whole disney, hannah montana-persona  in favor of  the  "serious artist"  persona, she pulled it off.  honestly, she did, & I really & truly like her music.

but strutting around the stage pretending to be a sex-bomb like britney spears? well, she didn't pull that off, because she just ain't.   yeah, i know britney was a mouseketeer, & so was christina aguilera. whatever.  for them, it was merely a footnote.

for her "sexy" moment, miley wore tennis shoes & short, little pig tails all over her head & absolutely would not stop sticking out her tongue -- something ornery little kids do, right?

& did i mention, the girl just can't dance...  i think i did, but,  i mean, come on! ,  "twerking" her skinny little booty as if she was  bootilicious beyonce?

egads.

but, you  know -- the girl's doing something right, because I'm still talking about her..

TTFN - ta-ta for now.

dilated pupils

okay, I got a crazy new book today. It's on body language, but you probably figured that out already.

it's a pretty boring book, actually -- takes lots of skimming to get to anything really good. here's what's interesting so far -- it's about the eyes. bet you didn't know that the pupils do something weird, well i guess it's not really weird, since it's normal -- but when you get excited or turned-on, or you basically really like something, your pupils dilate. like, big time. if i were really cool & knew how to use my computer better, i'd patch in some photos, but i'm not, & i don't, so you're going to have to use your imagination.

they've got pictures of this model. the first photo, she's just basically looking at you with a seductive-ish smile -- no big deal. next picture, same exact photo, except they've manipulated it to make her pupils dilated, like crazy-big, & guess what? she looks like a sexy babe. then, it says below the photo that Revlon increased its catalogue sales 45% by dilating their models' eyes. nuts, right? well, no, i guess.

next thing on the pupils -- they tested some dudes when they were looking at porn.  yep, their pupils dilate. go grab a mirror & pull up a porn site & see what happens. i can wait, or do it later -- whatever.

you probably figured out that this  dilating is subconscious. or is it unconscious? either way, it happens whether you want it to or not. so, that partner of yours that you suspect is secretly gay -- or straight? now you can find out for sure.

you're welcome.

if you love david bowie as much as i do, and i really do, you'll find this interesting.  not only are his eyes different colors (one's blue & one's hazel), one of them is permanently-dilated. this is a really cheap book & none of the photos are in color, so i couldn't say whether it's his blue eye or his hazel one, but he got the dilated pupil from a fistfight over a girl when he was a wee lad of 12 years old.

the book also says that babies have larger pupils than grownups & that their pupils constantly dilate when grownups are around, trying to look more appealing so they'll get more attention. how weird is that?

okay -- one last thing, because i know you're getting antsy to pull up your porn site.   it's about the whites of your eyes. humans are the only primates that have them, meaning that monkeys' eyes are completely dark. you can tell where humans are looking -- whether they're acting shifty, or if a man's checking out a chick's boobs or something.  having no whites gives monkeys an advantage when they're hunting because their prey has no idea if they've been spotted or if the monkey's even looking at them at all.

oh, hey -- i just thought of this -- wonder if that single-dilated eye of bowie's is why like half the population is crazy about him.  if they both were dilated, i'll bet my mom would be listening to young americans in her car.

okay --   TTFN, which means "ta-ta for now."

dear abby

I've always wanted to write an advice column. Not that I'm so smart and cool and anyone would take my advice anyway, but wouldn't it be refreshing to read an answer that was the truth?

So, here's a letter from Disengaged in Florida in today's Dear Abby, and I'm going to paraphrase and trim it down, because, frankly -- the woman's too wordy.

I've been married for 40 years and we have a good marriage. I wouldn't change a thing, except I've never had an engagement ring. My husband's bought me jewelry over the years, but never what I really want -- a diamond ring -- and he can certainly afford it. After hinting, leaving jewelry catalogues around, and even having my sister-in-law tell him, I feel unloved and deeply hurt . It's becoming clear that he thinks I'm not worth it.

My response: You think? Why not do what most women do when they're pissed -- cut off the nooky until he comes through, although it occurs to me that you've probably tried that already, which was fine with him since your finger remains ring-less. So, here's how you fix his wagon, improve your marriage and get your personal power back at the same time: Buy yourself a huge, honking rock, preferably with your own dinero, and while you're at it, pick up a stripper pole and g-string and quit your whining.

Now, I haven't even read Dear Abby's response yet, as to remain unbiased, so hold on a second while I do.

Okay I'm back - and again, I'll paraphrase and trim it down.

Diamonds are minerals that have been marketed to the public to seem like something more, so don't let this screw up your marriage. Lots of women do it, so consider buying one for yourself.

Oh, poor dear, dear Abby....  you clearly need my help.