Dear Friend

Today is September 30^th and for those of you not in the political fundraising world, this day is just another day that leads into October.  For those of you in the political world today is a BIG DAY.  It is a filing deadline.   This means that all of the work you have been doing for the past three months gets reported to the reporting agency (FEC, CIA, FBI, Supervisor of Elections, what have you). The “agency” looks at your work, releases the data to the public, then the press tears your candidate apart based on your fundraising prowess.  Needless to say, it can be a bit stressful.  And crazy enough? It happens every three months!

Why, you may ask did I name this blog Dear Friend?  Well, maybe it is because in the last week alone I have received 45 emails calling me a ‘dear friend’?   While I understand that I may not be on a personal name basis with Barack, Michelle, Joe and Bill I still have somewhat of a relationship with them – that of a donor.  And yes, maybe I am not your average donor.  I have a bit more insight into the system seeing as I was and remain a political fundraiser.  I know that today’s politicians meet thousands of people and in no way can they remember me.  President Obama won’t remember the time I taught him how to make coffee (true story) or the time I babysat the Clinton’s nephew (another true story).  I do however know that they took my money, cashed my check, filled out the required name/employer occupation card and filed me away with their regulating agency.  Therefore, my dear politicians running for office, you do know me and know a bit more about me than a “dear friend” email deserves.

I am not one to post a blog just ranting and raving about a rude email or how I feel jilted because while I wished Senator Nelson a Happy Birthday by contributing to his campaign he didn’t even send a Happy Birthday email to me.  No friends, I will offer some advice. 

Upgrade your donor recognition software.

It is very simple.  I can probably find you a good vendor who would sell it to you cheaply.  Today nonprofits are getting really smart and our technology is getting smarter.  You can buy a system that when you are mass emailing thousands upon thousands of emails all you have to do is insert name tab in the merge field.  (If that was too technical for you, I will offer a class later).  Basically friendly politicians, when you are sending a mass email asking me for money and pleading your case that my donation is going to bring you over the top, save the day, allow you to fight another fight – at least use my name.

Being Single

This blogger is taking a sick day.  Don't think it is a good idea to blog while high on DayQuil as you never know what might happen.

Enjoy this little tidbit of wisdom as I recover in bed... aaaaaaachoo!

Spin Doctor and Politician in training?

It is amazing how much our little people take after their parents and grandparents.  My little man comes from a long line of politicians and spin doctors.  His one grandfather held state wide office for years and is now a lobbyist.  His other grandfather is a successful salesman who now holds a local office.  His daddy is a lobbyist who ran a state wide political party, and let’s face it my job has always been political – raising money for political candidates and charities.  You can say he was born to spin a tale, impress a crowd and basically get his way…

 I remember taking my little baby into the local coffee shop and the ladies behind the counter swearing he was going to be President someday.  At only a few months he had developed a sense of stage presence like a mini Bill Clinton.  He would bat his long lashes, flash his big toothless smile and flirt his way to a free muffin. 

At about age four he perfected the art of making a contract.  He somehow convinced his Gogo (my mom) to pay him a dollar to take a nap.  If payment for services he was already going to do wasn’t bad enough, he made her sign a contract to ensure she upheld her end of the bargain.

Once he entered Kindergarten he had a bit more bargaining power.  He now lived in a land based on spelling tests and math homework.  One Sunday night I was watching Sunday Night Football while at the same time trying to uphold the 8:00 bedtime and I was met with a really tough argument.  My  3 ½ foot spin doctor was able to convince me to alter his bedtime saying that him watching the game was going to help him with his numbers.  “See Mommy that is number 57 and number 35 just tackled him…”  My little man won a later bedtime that night.

The problem is that my little man is now using his powers of persuasion and storytelling on his friends.  After the infamous black eye incident I heard him on the phone with my dad.  “Pop Pop I have a black eye.  Yep!  Yesterday, during my game, I caught a fly ball with my eye”.  What!?!   That is NOT the story I remember.  How did he turn a bruise in the shower into a baseball injury?  Like any good mother, I confronted him and told him I do not appreciate him making up stories. 

“Ok Mom” he said, “but falling in the shower is really not cool.”

Good point, little man, good point.

Mom Did It

My little man has a really bad black eye.  Unfortunately it is not his first black eye, however it is the first black eye where he is old enough to tell people how he received a giant purple and blue bruise on his face.  Let’s just say this is one of those times I regret ever teaching my little man to talk….

After a rather muddy baseball game I made the little man shower.  Like any good mother, I was hovering in the bathroom making sure all of the parts that needed cleaning got sudsy.  Well, my little man didn’t necessarily feel like actually cleaning anything in the shower, so I had to intervene.  I pulled out my stern mom personality, grabbed a washcloth, added soap and started scrubbing.  Like a wild animal not wanting to be caged my little man broke free of my grip and bit it in the shower.  Yep, wham, blam, splat!  His little body splayed out on the floor of the tub with him screaming about his eye.  As the bruise swelled into a grapefruit I thanked the good lord that he wasn’t seriously hurt.

The next morning I dreaded the car drop off line.  I just knew someone was going to say something.  I mean really, my kid looked like he just went head to head with Tyson.  At least I had a legitimate story – me being the good mom ensuring cleanliness.  No need to worry right?

Not so…

Teacher in drop off line “Morning Little Man”

Little Man: “Morning”

Teacher: “What Happened to your eye!?!  Poor Baby!  Are you okay??!?!?”

Little Man:  “My Mom did it”

UGH!

Photo Op

Not sure what message this guy is trying to relay?
 Kind of makes me want to run!

A few months ago my friend and I were both stuck at home with bad colds.  Like any single 30 something’s, our conversation found its way to dating.  My friend had recently signed up for the online dating site Plenty of Fish, her roommate was on Match.com, and I was still recovering from my stint on EHarmony.  We were debating the pros and cons of each, agreeing that the key is to put up as many filters as possible on searches as well as post a good picture.  The picture being the key to success, since let’s face it, you are online and the photo not the caption is going to get you noticed.

High on cold medicine we decided to go online and see what was out there in our dating pool.  If I didn’t know people who had found love on these sites I would have thought the pictures were fake. No kidding!  I am not sure what is going on, if it is a regional issue or a unilateral problem with the male species.  But 9 out of 10 of the pictures were of guys with no shirt on either flexing or looking at themselves in the mirror.  While I’m not a matchmaker I have to suggest to the men out there that a shirt might help.  Ladies like to be a little surprised now and then.  You can get pretty far in a dress shirt that hints at your muscles and leaves us wondering what is underneath, no need to show all of your goods up front.

The second most popular picture was that of guys holding fish.  Where in the “How To Get A Girl Manual” does it say women are turned on by a large, stinky fish?  I give these guys credit for trying to show off their sportsmanship and active outdoor lifestyle, but a dead fish? Really?

The third most popular pose was that of a guy on his motorcycle.  I get this look, you are trying to look tough, show us you have a wild side, that you love the feel of the open road.  That is all good, but maybe take your doo rag off, put down the shades, lose the leather vest and stand next to the bike?  The standard picture of a guy on his hog just leaves us wondering if you have hair and how tall you may be.

After a few hours (yes I said hours) of clicking through the endless pictures of available men online we decided that these poor fellas need some help in the picture department?   Here are a few ideas:

1.        No pictures in the bathroom and especially not in the shower.  The lighting is always bad and the mirror and angles are weird.  Stay away.

2.       While everyone loves a good hat picture, post at least one without a hat on.  We need to see your face and yes hair is important to some of us, so just let us see what you have going on.

3.       Many girls like a man who is good with kids, but please don’t post pics of you and kids (yes, even if they are your niece or nephew).  This is an online dating site and kids online can be creepy.  We will find out if you are good with kids in due time, don’t post them.

4.       Stay away from animals. Yes, we know you might be an excellent fisherman, wrangle alligators or are the next dog whisperer.  We can find that out on a date.  You don’t need to put up every shot of every fish you ever caught.

5.       Tattoos – I’m all for tattoos, they can express your personality and individuality, but your profile picture does not need to be that of your latest and greatest ink.  Again, cover it with a nice shirt and let us find it on our own.

6.       Keep other girls out of the picture.  I have yet to figure out why a guy thinks this is a good idea?  If you are looking for a woman, then don’t post pictures of other women on your profile.  Yes, it may show you are sensitive, friendly, etc.  But take some advice, women are easily jealous.  No one wants to sign up to date a guy who is advertising his other girls, even if they are ‘just friends.’

7.       If you are completely lost and can’t come up with a photo, have a friend come over, go outside and snap a shot.  It will show us who you really are, and please remember to wear a shirt!

Check out the size of his fish, just leaves me saying WHAT?

Referral Rewards?

If you read my previous post “You are freezing my what?!” you will notice that I said I would talk about my conversation with my OBGYN about dating.  So, here it goes.

As he was doing the exam we start talking about dating.  “Yes” I say, “I’m single”.   “No” I say, “I’m not dating anyone”.  This is a typical conversation for me and I honestly don’t get upset about it.  The Doctor and I discuss how it is hard to meet someone since I work from home, have a son, the typical small talk about being single in south Florida. When all of a sudden he pokes his head up and says “I should introduce you to my brother!”   “Sure!” I agree and immediately think to myself – what is his referral of me going to be?  “Her hoo haw is in good shape?”  “Nice birthing thighs?”   No pressure there Doc….

I then think about some other times people have set me up on dates and what their referrals must have been. One that comes to mind is when my personal trainer called to tell me he has the perfect guy for me.  I suddenly become aware that our trainer/client relationship is built on me basically complaining during our 60 minutes together. I complain about being tired, the weights being too heavy, and the reps too much for me.  I also complain to him about past dates, past relationships, work and so on.  My trainer basically turned into my shrink – I figure I have his undivided attention for 60 minutes, might as well make the most of our time together!  So, as I gladly agree to meet this new catch out for drinks I’m really left wondering what his referral of me was.  “I have grandmas who can lift more than her, but she is kind of cute when she is doing sit ups?”  or “She doesn’t smell too bad after a mile or two of running?”

The one referral that tops all other referrals is when my ex husband called to tell me he found me a man.  Yes, he like my mom is hoping I find a wealthy man to take me away.  (His reasons are pretty selfish - I think he wants me off of his payroll).  Anyway, he called one day to tell me he found me the perfect guy.  I ask a few questions and find out this man is older and wealthy; a perfect match for me thinks the ex husband. I hesitated to agree to a date. I can’t help wondering what the referral is in this case.  “She’s good in bed, but can’t cook for anything” or maybe it was “I couldn’t stand her but you’ll love her?!”

And thus I continue to be very hesitant about my referral sources.



You are freezing my what?!?!

Ok, so this post is something that may cause my male followers to blush. (But let’s be honest, I don’t have THAT many male followers, so y’all can just deal with it and read on).

Not to get too personal, but my last Pap test came back a little weird, so after one really uncomfortable follow up visit to get my cervix scraped (Ouch! Yes, it hurts, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise) my Doctor tells me that he is going to freeze my cervix.    

Never one to freak out at a medical procedure, I decided that the first appointment of the day should be a good time to get frozen. I figure I’ll be defrosted in time for my car pick up line duties. 

Never being frozen before I was a bit curious.  A few days before the procedure I call the office and ask if there is anything I needed to do to be prepared?   The nurse bluntly said “they are freezing you – it’s going to be cold.”  Thanks for the words of wisdom lady.  I promptly dug out my snow boots, hats and mittens, popped a few Extra Strength Motrin and headed off for my trip to the tundra.

Entering the OB exam room used to be a bit scary for me.  Now, after delivering a baby and being scraped, prodded and needled I feel quite at home in the white paper gown and stir ups.  I prop open my book and start passing away the time, when all of a sudden the nurse comes in with a rusted blue gas tank attached to some long tubes.  I glance down at this formidable foe covered in stickers saying things like “Gas cut off” “pressure gauge”, and “flammable”.   With a keen eye on the little tank, my ski cap on, I am ready for this battle.

It can be a bit awkward talking to your OB, especially while laying down, legs up and getting frozen. I have to give my Doc credit, he has a great bedside manner and we chat away about our weekend while he’s inventing a new south pole in my nether regions.  We are reminiscing about this and that when all of a sudden he takes a phone call.  (Ok, to his credit, apparently being frozen is like playing hockey, 3 minutes on ice, 3 minutes off, 3 minutes back on ice). So, during the three minute time out Doc takes a phone call.  Since he was on a 3 minute countdown clock he told his caller that he couldn’t talk right now stating “I’m in the middle of something, no literally, I’m in the middle of something.”  UGH!?!  Doctor did you just say that? Talk about embarrassing.  His nurse and I busted out laughing and we continued on to our next 3 minutes of freeze, moving on to talking about boyfriends, dates and ex-husbands.  (That will be a Blog for another day)

All in all my frozen experience was not that bad.  I’m feeling fine and don’t need to go back for a few months.  I was planning on meeting a friend today and trying to figure out what a good time was. I told her I was waiting on my cervix to defrost; she suggested it defrosts per pound….