Meeting the Parents

My parents, of course, don’t understand why this is so stressful for our generation. They aren’t meeting the parents. To them, they’re just taking an active interest in their children’s lives. My mother thinks my brother and I often “hide” our friends and dates from them. Maybe that’s the reason we’re hesitant to bring people by. We don’t understand why they are so interested in these people anyway.
Nevertheless, meeting the parents is a tradition that eventually both sides will want to fulfill. The adults will want to make sure you aren’t going out with a serial killer and your boyfriend will want to make sure you aren’t a total nutcase. Or if you are, it’s only because your family has driven you to that state.
Supposedly, it’s easier for girls to meet the guy’s parents. His family is usually less concerned that the girlfriend is corrupting their sweet baby boy. Usually. The standard modest dress, polite manner, and stellar personality tests still apply as a girl.
There are all types of terrifying stereotypes that go with meeting the girl’s parents. If you are wholly unfamiliar, rent Meet the Parents (2000) with Ben Stiller. If you will soon be meeting the parents, however, resist. Trust me, you’ll sleep better for it.
So how to you ace a test that you can’t possibly study for? Sure your significant other can go over possible questions but there aren’t any multiple choice answers and even a good intention can come off wrong in certain situations.
Stop cramming and listen to me. Perfection is not expected. A little bit of nerves only means that this is important to you and the adults will pick up on that. Just in case you need help dialing down the stress here are a few words of encouragement.
The big one is these people want to meet you. They’ve cleared space in their lives because they are interested in getting to know you. Reluctance would be bad but they are excited to see who’s made such an impression on their son or daughter. They want to like you and that is the honest truth. They like their son or daughter. Their son or daughter likes you. You make their son or daughter happy. This makes them happy. They’d like to keep it that way by liking you too.

A few things to think about:

1. In informal situations, nice jeans and a polo (for both sexes) work very well. Girls may choose to accessorize with heels and earrings but go easy. When you try too hard the parents wonder why you feel you have to compensate.

2. Khakis and a dress shirt become the guy wear when things are more formal. Girls, nothing above your knees should be showing. No cleavage and circumstances where shoulders are displayed should be rare. You aren’t trying to look hot, leave the tight stuff at home.

3. Gifts are often overrated. Flowers are something your hostess has to now take care of. Alcohol is inappropriate when any member of the party is underage and it isn’t a nice dinner. If you must, make it small, simple and homemade. Dessert is always accepted. The best way to tell if you should bring a gift is to know the plans beforehand. It’s hard to eat cookies and go waterskiing.
The bottom line: what would Grandma do? And for God’s sake, RELAX!

Nobody Asked Abby

The hardest lesson I’ve had to learn so far is how to keep my mouth shut. I’m not talking about being silent when something you believe in is threatened. I’m not talking about passively ignoring your problems by being incommunicative. What I am trying to learn is how to swallow unsolicited advice.

I’m the eldest of three siblings and a girl. Statistics say this means I am bossy and protective of the people around me. In this case, statistics are overwhelmingly correct.

I have this need to “fix” people. My spidey senses don’t tell me when people are in trouble, they tell me there is a lost soul out there whose life could be better if only I tell them how to change. My spidey sense is kind of pompous.

In my defense, I seem to have a homing beacon for people who love to share their problems. I’ve had complete strangers in front of me in line at a store that will turn around and ask why their best friend is such a flake. The cashiers love to gossip about the cute bag boy that they’ve been trying to get a date with for weeks. Back at home, my roommate cannot figure out why she is used as a doormat.

To me, it all seems relatively simple. The best friend is a flake because girls with new boyfriends, jobs or hobbies like to forget about life pre-new-shiny-toy. She’ll wander back eventually. Boys the cashier’s age are often oblivious to girls that don’t flaunt themselves. If you want a date with him, it’s time to ask. My sweetheart of a roommate is a doormat because she feels she needs certain people in her life and is desperate to have them there; she’ll tolerate anything from them so as not to feel alone.

Before my epiphany, I would have told them exactly that. The sly trick is, though these people sound like they honestly want help with their problem, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

No one that does not expressly ask for an honest opinion (and even then it’s iffy) wants the truth. They know the truth. They don’t like the truth. I’m going to refrain from telling you “they can’t handle the truth” but you get the idea.

What these people want is a sympathetic sound (awww, that sucks!) or an ignorant opinion that is much more pleasing to their sensitive psyche (If you really love him, you're ready to give up everything for him.)

On the off chance that they do listen and you’re wrong, you will be blamed. Oh, and if you are right, you will also be blamed. These people don’t like the truth, remember? You’ve pointed out something that’s been in front of them the whole time and suddenly it’s as if you made it appear. You evil trouble-maker, what did you do that for?

I may be cynical but I’m not unsympathetic. I have tissues and soothing tea ready for the next friend crisis. My phone is on most nights in case I am needed. But Ask Abby has left the building. The people with pitchforks made her nervous.

Baglady makes Big Bucks

Move over Mary Kay there’s a new queen bee in town. For years the stay-at-home mom/saleslady has pedaled makeup and skincare to make extra money the fashionable way. Now, with B’s Purses, “work parties” may never be the same.

B’s Purses began when co-founder Susan Guillen was sewing self-designed purses and selling them to friends for extra money. As demand grew Linda Henderson helped develop a marketing plan that has revolutionized the way we’ll shop for bags of all shapes and sizes. With the site’s newfound fame, Susan Masters created the masterful systems and operations plan that keeps the merchandise moving today.

The coolest thing about B’s is that you (yes, you sitting in front of the screen in your bathrobe and bunny slippers) get to design your own bag. Who doesn’t love being able to tell people that you made the clutch that they’re drooling over?

Choosing from the numerous luggage, tote bag, purse, and clutch templates is hard enough but the sheer volume of fabric and detail combinations is enough to make a girl giddy. There is a large virtual representation, which can be viewed from three angles, of your bag that changes as you test different options. If you’re as fashion-retarded as I am, they even have an “info” button next to each fabric swatch that gives you material details and suggestions for embellishing your bag.

Jealous that you didn’t think of it first? No worries, they’re always looking for new “representatives” a la Avon lady. B’s reps launch their career hosting “purse parties” to spread the word, have personal websites of their own and always take a healthy percentage of the profit. If you get your girlfriends to do it too, you also get part of their share. These ladies are nothing but professional, highlighting their online business features that allow each rep to track the shipping of all customer purchases, their personal commission and place new orders.

I’m not much of a saleslady but there is a definite allure to the power of choice. Log on to http://bspurses.com/ to channel Kate Spade and make a masterpiece of your own.

Freedom of Speech= Free to be an idiot

[caption id="attachment_21" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Imagine this but 20 times worse. Image from http://www.foundingbloggers.com/"][/caption]

What. The. Hell.

I was minding my own business that morning, slowly dragging from my morning class to the union for a revitalizing cup of coffee, when I saw it. Yes, IT. It looked like a concert backdrop. From my vantage point all I could see were colorful pictures stretched on canvas two stories high.

Then I got closer.

There was something amiss about these photos. Mainly, I was wondering why there was so much red. Like someone had splashed the subject with ketchup just before taking the photograph.

Want to know why?

This was not a concert backdrop. Concert backdrops did not display 4-foot photographs of mutilated babies like it was an enormous scrapbook page. At least no concert that I’d ever been to had setups like this. Babies in all recognizable forms were covered in blood too red to be real but just enough to make me recoil in disgust. Coffee was not longer and option. My appetite had jumped ship and was halfway to Mexico by now.

Yes, I was awake now, but the anti-abortion rally nightmare was real and still looming down at me.

Worse, I was pissed. I am a college junior. I’ve seen my fair share of freak shows abusing their freedom of speech to push their propaganda on our impressionable values. My freshman year, Preacher Bob called me a whore one day for wearing a knee-length skirt. The next day he told me I was going to hell for wearing pants (apparently, I was trying to be a man and that it was “unnatural.”) Today’s show of intolerance and vomit-inducing scare tactic, however, is just too much.

To add insult to my disgust, there was a tiny bulletin board that read “freedom of speech” and had markers attached so you could give your opinion. So, basically, it’s ok for enormous and grotesque dead babies to be seen from miles away but if I have a problem with it, I must write my complaints on an itty bitty board off to the side?!

What if I’d rather take their approach? I know a few guys with a potato launcher; I’m sure I could demonstrate my feelings about their rally effectively with it. Or maybe I could take those tiny markers and creatively defame their giant eyesores? Something like “Sex is fun” should horrify them enough to get the hell off my campus.

What side you take on the “Abortion debate” is unimportant today. Scaring people to pick your side is wrong. The intelligent people, (which are the people you want on your side, by the way) are only going to shake their heads and back quietly across the debate line where they are safe. Back to the side that isn’t going to make people lose their lunch. Next time you want to inform people take a less dictator-like approach, okay?