A Southern Woman’s Twenty-Four Essential Rules

As a lifelong southern woman, I’ve discovered these adages truthful more often than not.

They will not have profound repercussions on a universal basis.

*Mistaking a southern accent for ignorance is dangerous for your checkbook and health.

*Kettle cooked potato chips are the ultimate snack.

*Tabasco sauce improves the taste of everything.

*People who refuse to eat grits are not to be trusted under any circumstances.

*Everyone likes bacon.

*Hairstyles that look good on Helen Mirren, only look good on Helen Mirren.

*The day after you have the carpet cleaned, the cat will barf a hairball.

*Only books on the Dollar Store bookshelves should be those written by Sarah Palin.

*All automobile models look the same.

*Cotton tee shirts have less thread count each year, yet the price increases.

*The shoe I cannot live without is certain to be wildly expensive.

*Kevin Spacey and James Spader never appears in dull movies.

*My hair always looks great the day I have an appointment for a haircut.

*Most women who wear low-rise jeans should not.

*My body part that has been aching for three months nonstop will be pain-free the day of my doctor’s appointment.

*Your kids do not have a clue as to what really makes you tick.

*The cheap plants I buy thrive; expensive ones do not.

*Blue eyeshadow is tacky.

*Carbohydrates should be classified as a controlled substance.

*Let your freak flag fly.

*You don’t have to kick over the traces to create change; more often than not, a small nudge is sufficient.

*Being mean is a waste of time.

*The word “cute” applies only to puppies or kittens.

*Receiving an unsolicited wave from a stranger’s baby is the ultimate character endorsement.

Two items for consideration to be included in the list

The woman in the lingerie department at Macy’s is forbidden to retire until I decide to stop wearing underwear.

People who use a bazillion coupons will no longer be allowed to shop at my supermarket until after 9 pm.

Note: First posted November 5 2013

How to Wear Sweatpants Everywhere When Your Give A Damn is Busted

My spouse does not understand why I have dozens of slacks, in varying sizes in my closet. His pants wardrobe is simple, sweatpants, jeans and dress slacks.

I have the same categories of pants, but finding myself advancing in girth requires adding sub-category wardrobe staples.

For instance, I have drub sweats that I tool around the house in. They are my favorite. Next, I have sweats I wear to the gym that are a step up from the drub sweats, but not nice enough to run errands in. Last, the really nice sweats I save for hosting casual dinners at home or running errands.

Age appropriate jeans are difficult to locate for mature women.

Skinny jeans tend to emphasize jaybird legs whose calves walked away during the Nixon administration. Jaybird legs combined with the engorged python body type scream “old lady”. Why advertise you are nanoseconds away from the multi-residency home?

I believed I hit jean nirvana when I discovered a site that sold high-waisted Mom jeans. Note to self: never order online after adult beverage. The jeans arrived with torn knee, slim legs and definitely not appropriate for those whose waist decided to merge with their abdomen.

I have two pairs of jeans – one for “see how hot I am”. These can only be worn the day after I have consumed celery and water all day. The other pair, my “oops” jeans need no explanation.

Generously sized women aka “curvy, chubby”, or the more politically correct term “thick”, have to take added measures when wearing slacks.

I could not bring myself to ditch my dressy, black crepe slacks, with pockets hiding under the pleats. Where else would I hide stuff I don’t want to cart around in a handbag.

I caved and purchased a pair of dressy slacks, with no pockets and no zipper. Wearing these to a special event requires at least three days notice of eliminating salt, bread, meat and ice cream from my diet. Before launching myself into said slacks, I must first take a boiling hot bath to discourage fat cells from making an appearance until they have recovered from second-degree burns.

I decided enough and took measures to simplify my life. My wardrobe now consists of all sweatpants.  It did require a lot of courage to wear the sweats to a funeral but I  believe the decedent would have defended me from the strange looks I received.  I rewarded myself with my bravery by stopping at the store on the way home and loading up on Cheetos.

Life is good.

 

 

How To Find Serenity From the Grim Daily News Coverage When You Exceed Your Martini Quota

Daily press coverage confirms my worst fear, that our elected officials have adopted the standards of Dog the Bounty Hunter.

Seemed like a good time to drop out; abandon news coverage of the day’s events and indulge in escape entertainment.

Streaming entertainment provided the perfect solution and British television is my go-to comfort escape for top-notch entertainment.

It started out great watching Poldark, but then the plot began to take on a familiar turn, with poor people getting the shaft and those in the elite class gaining advantages. an uneasy reminder that conditions haven’t changed much. Poldark, with his rippling biceps and dark brooding eyes, were enough to keep me interested for a while. But then poor Morwenna’s ruthless kin married her off to a foppish widower with a foot fetish. That twist in the plot is a reminder of the precarious position for women’s rights today. No more Poldark.

I stumbled on the Lark Rise to Candleford series. It had all the elements of a good yarn; humor, pathos, and romance. The ragged existence of the tenants and the pronounced difference between the haves and have-nots became painful to watch. One of the main characters is an angry anti-Tory tenant, vocal in his attempt to affect change, but unsuccessful. More evidence that history repeats itself is frightening, so I opted for something more modern.

Acceptable Risk, an Irish thriller set in modern-day Dublin, grabbed my attention. Unusual plot, no car chases or bodice rippers. As the series progressed, the backstory revealed an evil plot by big pharma and their skulduggery. Still angry over my last outrageous prescription co-pay, I knew it was time to move on.

I am now watching the PBS kids channel. Congress should tune in. Those kids are way smarter and a lot classier.

 

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