The Four Ma's

An old couple regardless of cultural background or social status may call each other 'ma' and 'pa,' as terms of endearment. This I don't mind.

The stereotypical urban male will try to get the attention of an attractive woman and call her 'ma' as opposed to 'miss.' THIS I mind. I am not anyones 'ma,' and I have been known to stop in my tracks and snarl my non 'ma' status at such men.

And then there is the third 'ma,' which is an attempt at politeness really bugs me, especially if my significant other [s.o.] is at the register and says 'thanks ma,' to the middle-aged cashier. Why would he call her 'ma?' She's neither a spouse nor some attractive girl. I'm his attractive s.o. and he calls me 'whachudoin?'

Why do men do this? Women don't go around calling strange men 'pa' regardless of their attractive nature or for the sake of being polite.

Men and their freakin "Ma's"

Let's just stick to the first & original 'Ma' which is only reserved for" your mother."

HELP is a 4 letter word

This is a story that is not quite a story, but a window into Me.

Me:Can you please shovel the snow?
She: ok I will
Me: [an hour later, snow not shoveled] hey are you going to shovel cuz if not I can just do it.
She: no I will just give me a minute
Me:[ half hour later, shoveling the snow], grumbling under my breath & being passive aggressive.

This is just a minor example of my frustrations resulting when asking for that blasted word: HELP.

As a child I remember being refused the help I needed. My parents were always too busy, either with work, arguing with each other, or complaining about each other. Being the oldest, responsibility fell on me & I had no where to turn.

I grew up pretty fast and just tried to take care of myself and focus my attention on helping others, ie my family. I would try to delegate responsibility but once the pack leader, always the pack leader, I suppose. Because of the frequent let downs, I learned not to ask for help. It made me stronger, self reliant and at the same time, very lonely. After all, its not easy being a supermujer.

So when I muster up the courage to ask, its a big deal. And if I trust you enough to feel comfortable saying those words more than once, its a huge deal. But if I ask for help & I get ignored or overlooked, I won't ask again. And it will be difficult to redeem yourself. I guess the old adage 'once bitten, twice shy' rings true for me. And as my mother puts it, I'm a little tough to deal with.

Social Networking vs. Being Social

This morning as I had breakfast, I wanted to snap a picture of the person I was actually having breakfast with: man with one hand holding blackberry before his face, other hand on food. He soon looked up as I prepared my cell phone to gather this evidence. He was twittering some political stance. My interruption of his twitter flow soon backfired. I became engaged in a political debate. And I hadn't even had my coffee. Why?!

Then this afternoon, I read an article about Twitter in the New York State Bar Association Journal. I got to thinking about how technology has changed dramatically in the last 10 years. I remember when I was first introduced to the Internet. I got an email account and started chatting online. I still did my research in the library, but only for papers that needed to get done. But if I had a question like: “I wonder what train stops at union square?” or “who’s that cute actor in the film?” I would pull out a map for the station and ask my friends about the actor. In time the information would come. However now-a-days, I need that information yesterday. Even for the most inane questions I have, I run an Internet search. This need for "information now" extends into expectations within my relationships as well. If I have a question to ask my friend, I text him/her right away. There’s no need for “hello” or “how ya doin,’” oh no, I get right to it. And I need a response FAST.

In an age where everything is accessible with the snap of a finger, the tapping of a qwerty board, thumbing a black berry, or googling on a computer, why can’t I just text my doctor’s office to request an appointment? Why do I have to actually verbally communicate with a receptionist? Why do I have to interact with people at all? Alternatively, when we call customer service and we are talking to a machine, pressing numerical values ad infinitum, we curse, "Can’t I talk to a real person!"

What do we want, really? And what do we really need?

The luxury of attaining information and sending information NOW has become an expectation. This thing that we wanted has become a thing that we need. So, is it creating a society in which speed is more essential than quality? Where information is more critical than forming relationships? Twitter, Facebook, Myspace, Blogspot, etc, have allowed me to have a forum to share with the world when I don’t want to personally share with my friends, my colleagues, or my family. They’ll eventually find out through one of these Internet forums, right?

What did we do before the internet? For that matter, what did we do before computers and cell phones? We lived! Yes, we survived. We truly don't need access everything NOW.

Blessings and Burdens… they often go hand in hand, don’t they? The Internet is a great asset that helps create relationships which may connect into the real world, but we have to step out of our cyber selves at some point and nurture the reality that surrounds us. We have to remember that we too can meet people on terra firma without the Internet. I know it’s scary and a little hard to do - You can’t edit what you say when you meet someone to sound witty, cute, smart or articulate… you have to get it right the first time, and that’s a lot of pressure. But if our forefathers did i and survived, so can we.

I guess my little experience this morning was a nice reminder to take a minute to breathe, focus and not to forget to create and cultivate relationships in my real-life existence before I extend myself to post in real-time, “What I’m doing.”




*the picture is of my boyfriends blackberry. I wanted it to look very antique and ominous. 

Be Careful What You Wish For

When I was in college, a numerologist told me that I was like a satellite - I had the ability to attract what I wanted, so I needed to be careful what I wished for. At the time she told me that, I was very much aware of my satellite-ness but didn't know how it would benefit me. I just figured everyone had that ability. Anyway, not until three years ago did I make a list of the things that I wanted for that year - a stable job practicing law; a brand new reliable car; a loving, fulfilling, committed, romantic relationship. I got everything I wanted on that list by the end of that year. I stopped teaching and started litigating. I got a brand new Civic. I got the fulfilling, loving, and committed relationship. I felt really lucky seeing the things that I wanted happen, and I still feel really blessed. But, there's always room for growth and although I am happy, I am not satisfied.

Recently I started writing out my intentions for this year concerning my career, my finances, travel and health. Even though the power of my intentions have been proven, there's that sneaky fear that says... what if its just not for you?
My intentions aren't wishes. They're goals that I'm putting out into the universe in the hopes that they will come to fruition. But somehow I cannot get rid of the fear contained in the statement, "be careful what you wish for."

Word to My Mother

My Friend
My Youth
My Oracle
My Joy

My Warmth
My Eternal summer
My Love, My Heart, My Hands...

My Never-failing, You
My Every-woman, You
My Always-there, You

My Irreplaceable,
My Unmistakable,
My Beyond Incredible Mom,
that's Who.

An Excerpt from a poem I wrote to my mother three years ago.
~Li Copyright 2006

My boots are screaming, get new boots!!!!

My feet reveal that I am a creature of habit. They're not pretty, they hurt sometimes, but they take me around the world. Today I wore black suede ankle boots... in the rain... to work. Why? Because I couldn't wear my flats. And when I wear flats, which flats do I wear? So glad you asked! If its a non-rainy work day I wear my black ballet flats. If it's the weekend, I alternate between turquoise multicolor and copper multicolor flats. If it's sneakers, it's my beige diesels. At home I wear shiny silver flip flops. And that's it. The variety of pumps in the closet? The array of sneakers? Nah, they need their rest. My feeties are quite content with my choices. But the shoes? Eh, not so much. Some need to be retired. But NOT yet.