Social Networking and Your Potential Employer

On that same note Ray....

You may want to remove "cheating, stealing, embezzling" from your list of favorite hobbies on your MySpace/Facebook account considering that potential employers may be checking you out. Your profile picture of you gripping a liquor bottle, eyes glazed over might just send the wrong impression.

Really folks, just the fact that you have a MySpace/Facebook almost sends the impression that you are in fact a teenager (in your head). You're already screwed, so you might as well add the newest Puff Daddy song to autoplay on your page... you know you want to.

P.S. I need one more facebook friend to make 60 so if you don't mind.....
we don't have to talk or anything


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My Inner Adolescent

This week I embarked upon the strange world of modern, teenage "communication" by creating my own facebook page. I could just feel the adolescent acne and enthusiasm for Bon Jovi oozing back into my being. First I created a profile - little factoids about me, uploaded a picture of myself.... then what? I sat there wondering what my "status" and "wall" were. Then, all of a sudden, by no doing of my own, my 20-something cousin, from San Jose that I haven't seen in years was chatting with me. Like a young child leading an old blind woman, he taught me how to "update my status", "request friends", how to "poke" someone, and of course, how to write on someone's wall. What I didn't learn was, what is the point of it all?

Communication has rapidly degenerated, inversely proportionate to the development of technology. Email took the individuality of handwriting and doodles out of snail mail. Texting took inflection, tone, and proper grammar out of phone calls. And now we have facebook that takes interaction to an all new low where you simply write words into the cyber breeze and people may or may not respond. And when actual words are too hard to come up with, you can send a virtual poke, hug, chest bump, tickle or drop kick.

So why join the digital non-gab? For one thing, it gives your self-esteem a boost every time you log in and five more people want to be your friend. Of course most friends just sit in your friend collection without ever interacting, like a box of action figures or a pile of stuffed animals. Others may share virtual activities with you like going to a movie, going shopping, playing a game of virtual dodgeball, or they can even give you a virtual gift. It's like having an imaginary friend who talks back, sort of. And while it is great to reconnect with old friends from highschool and beyond, after an initial burst of curiosity about marital status, location, and number of offspring, you are reminded of why you never really bothered to keep in touch with this person all these years. And back to the stuffed animal pile they go.

Well, I shall continue to keep my facebook account for the time being. I shall update my status that only refers to me in the third person and occasionally write on my virtual friends' virtual walls. I do enjoy sharing and seeing photos. But I'm not sure the connecting benefits outweigh the addictive hours spent poking and jabbing virtual friends as a form of communication that is just that - a virtual illusion.
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You Might Be A SAHM If...

You use an assignment to bring a veggie tray to get attention and gain notoriety among the class moms.


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I Did it My Way

The end is near and now we face the final curtains my friends. But the question remains, what will we do with ourselves now ? What will fill the empty hours once filled with calls from electronic political machines, completely void of any human warmth? What is left to possibly debate about with our family , friends, coworkers , and the random psychotic lady at the grocery store? What will take the place of the soul warming political ads on television that we so eagerly anticipated with our bowls of ice cream every evening.

My dear bloggers we must move forward and carry on, it's time to let go, to talk of other things. Soon we will learn again what it is like to be comfortable in the presence of others, even if we don't know their political affiliations, but fear not for in four years time, again we will experience the stress and intestinal turmoil that elections bring.

Happy Elections Day
Love Ambie and Ray




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D-V-Don't and V-H-Yes

The evolution of technology is similar to the evoloution of organisms. Either the new species flourishes and the old one dies off, the new one dies off and the old one remains, or the two live side by side in a new balance and harmony. CDs have definitely taken the place of cassette tapes but MDs failed to take the place of CDs. Pianos replaced harpsichords but live alongside keyboards. It is nature's way.

But we humans just can't seem to keep our itchy fingers out of the way. We choose one species over another, and sometimes, one technology over another. And the results aren't necessarily for the best.

Such is the case with DVDs and VHSs. Yes, DVDs are the more advanced form of media distribution, but a niche remains for VHSs, yet they have been forceably removed from the technological gene pool.

It's no secret that my children are hard on things, and movies are no different. I have a pile of DVDs that are no longer in working condition because of sticky fingers and crumby floors, yet I had to pay more for them. On the other hand, I've had VHS cases crack and lose pieces and once I even scotch taped a pulled out and broken reel and they still work! Durability is way more important to me than seeing SpongeBob in high-def clarity.

Distributors like Costco and Walmart switched to exclusively selling DVDs not because of decreased demand for VHSs, but to minimize inventory and increase profit margins since DVDs are cheaper to make and more can be charged for them. Meanwhile, with the death of my VCR (does anyone even know what that is anymore?) I'm left in this peculiar paradox of having working movies and nothing to play them on and scratched and broken movie discs with working DVD players.

I guess we'll have to read, go outside and play, or talk to eachother for entertainment.
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Spooky Advice

Here is Ray's no-fail guidelines for having your child win costume contests year after year:

Rule 1:
for girls - don't dress-up as any Disney character
for boys - don't dress-up as any superhero and/or ninja/martial arts thingy

Rule 2:
Don't buy your costume at Costco.

Rule 3:
Dress up as anything that doesn't violate rules 1 or 2.

Those that know me know that I am not a frilly person. I don't decorate my house. I don't have an extensive wardrobe and neither do my children. I don't toll paint, stamp, or scrapbook. Martha Stewart, to me, is the epitome of useless froufrou.

That being said, I love to dress my kids up for Halloween. Often I end up sewing, glueing, painting, and rigging up elaborate productions that my children wear long enough for me to take a picture, then run screaming from. I also like the children's costumes to be related. So when my son wanted to be Batman, my daughter had no choice but to be Robin. Then when my older two kids wanted to be Harry Potter and Hermione, my toddler had the privilege of being Hedwig. One year I sewed a Buzz Lightyear costume that had 48 pieces and cost almost $50 in supplies alone (unfortunately my daughter was old enough to refuse to be Woody).

Of course this was all before I discovered the 3 rules to winning costume contests. I have since been dubbed the queen of useless Halloween costume froufrou.
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Sonnet of Humidity

HUMIDITY

As summer fades to the rains of fall
The chuckle of the brook turns to laugh.
The mold gains strength in my shower stall
And beware the abundance of staph.

Clouds billow from my spaghetti pot
Rust creeps upon my brads.
My brow beads with sweat alot,
My hair as soft as Brillo pads.

Moisture fills the heavy air,
Every breath of breeze divine.
Clammy skin sticks to the leather chair.
The laundry just steams on the line.

Who calls this "paradise" is crazy.
Or maybe they have central A/C.

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Grumpy Old Ladies

There are good things about going to a "family" gym (no bare midriffs or thongs, friendly childcare, no getting hit on by creepy guys without jobs) and there are bad things about going to a "family" gym (all light rock all the time, halls full of summer camp kids). And then there are the things that are both good and bad. One of the things that fits into that last category is the grumpy old ladies that go to the water aerobics classes. When I get to the gym they are all floating in the pool; their wrinkled heads, with wide-brimmed hats and wrap-around sunglasses, bobbing around like the start of a really creepy horror flick. By the time I'm finished working out they are in the locker room, in all their unclothed, dimpled glory, sitting, standing, or showering, all the while chattering on about their grandkids and pets, their trips and their trips.

They are friendly and generally happy and I get a kick out their conversation topics that range from who of their friends died and whether their husbands are available to who had what surgery and what internal organ is now missing or replaced with a medical gadget. They always mention how young and fit I am, and how they were exactly the same when they were my age. They love hearing about my children, are flatteringly shocked that I have four, and are sure that mine are the smartest, most athletic, and cutest children ever (second only to their own grandkids, of course).

So what's the downside to this jolly, geriatric company? The visuals make me want to die young.

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While the Rich Get Thinner...

Since the world was created, you could choose any time, any country, and be able to separate the wealthy from the poor purely on size. The wealthy are rotund, jolly, and red in the cheeks, looking like they can survive a couple of famines without a frown creasing their thick jowls. The poor are hollow-eyed and weary and look like one good shove or an unfortunate misstep could leave them in a broken heap of skin-covered bones.

Well, that is no longer the case. Not in the US, at least - just the opposite is true.

It's been a while since I've had to really squeeze myself into my budget. But since moving to Hawaii, the price of housing, a decent education, gas, and Froot Loops, has thrown me back into my days as a starving student, except now I have children. Because of this I have discovered how expensive it is to eat in a healthy manner. Tomatoes cost $4/lbs while I can get a case of Top Ramen for $2.

No wonder, then, that we see this bizarro-world phenomenon of the thin rich and the thick poor. Add to that the fact that hardly anyone does any manual labor anymore. We have automatic dishwashers and dryers, tv remotes, drive-through pharmacies, bread machines, leaf blowers, and power steering. Only the wealthy can afford gym memberships, personal trainers, or exercise equipment. (There has got to be some irony in the fact that we invent machines to do our work, then invent other machines to make us do work.)

How confusing to time travellers would our modern day be when they see multi-millionaire movie stars looking frail and sickly while their maids and drivers always have something comfortable to sit on.

Oh, and if anyone has any tips or suggestions on how to feed a family healthy, natural foods on a budget, I'm all...I guess on a blog you wouldn't say "ears". I'm all eyes!
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In Love With A Vampire

Twilight
New Moon
Eclipse
Breaking Dawn

If you have not heard of these books, you have either been living in a cave or are lucky enough to have little to no teenage contact. This series of seemingly harmless titles has for the past three years sent dreamy eyed teenage girls swarming the bookstores like bloodthirsty vampires would a blood bank.

Teenage drama books come and go with the tide but these are special .. so my teens said, and as I do not consider myself above a good read at any age level, I brought home a copy of each and braced myself for a lot of blood and gore .... Alas ! Wrong I was, instead I was treated to several s-t-e-a-m-y make out sessions. What the??? All of the sudden I felt a little embarrassed, the same way you would feel watching a steamy love scene sitting next to your kids. Is it getting hot in here?

If you haven't read them, don't. I'll sum it up for you. Girl meets vampire. Girl falls in love with vampire. Girl and vampire decide to wait to have sex until marriage (and until she can become a vampire herself) but decide that anything just short of the deed itself is okay.

What's sad is that the whole "my boyfriend's a vampire and saves me from monsters" gives teenage girls an unrealistic view of boys and men who happen to be human beings, not saviors or sex objects, not to mention the fact that the vampire boyfriend has this girl holed up in her house and will not allow her to see her friends. So let's not be surprised when our teenage daughters find some abusive controlling jerk to latch onto.

Sorry, Meyers fans, but these books are full of some pretty frightening stuff that really has nothing to do with the vampires in them and are not much better than a trashy romance novel.

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