Why men don’t have home parties
It’s amazing really, what women do to each other and to themselves. This is how it generally goes for me. I get invited to a make-up party or some other kind of home party. I immediately start to think of excuses for why not to go. I suddenly become very "busy" if I’m invited in person. If it’s an invitation in the mail, I audibly growl a bit as I look at the calendar and notice I’m free. Then I contemplate for hours, usually days actually over whether or not I should go. "I’ll have to buy something," I think. "I don’t really need anything." In the end, I usually convince myself to go. The inner demons get the best of me by calling me anti-social, a home-body. They tell me I need a "night out." They tell me I’ll have fun.
So, I go. I sit there, in someone’s living room or dining room for hours, instead of having a nice dinner out, catching a movie, reading a book, playing with the girls, or catching up on sleep. I listen to things that make me want to roll my eyes. Because I’m polite, I don’t. I peruse the catalog or product set-up and try to figure out how soon I can go home, and what product I can buy that will cause the least amount of damage to the American Express. Which product will not make my husband roll his eyes? (I haven’t found one yet.)
This week, at one of these parties, I found myself wondering why women do this to each other. Each party has the same format. "If you book a party, you get this. . .(oohs, aahs). If you book a party, your hostess will get this. . . (oohs, aahs)." The "hostess" either looks around the room with pleading eyes or ends up finding her belly button extremely interesting during this little exchange. You start to rationalize each purchase. You start to rationalize booking a party. You want to be a good friend. You don’t really need that foot scrub, but it’s. . . just. . .so. . . damn. . .tempting. If you buy it, you can also pick a free product. "My God, what if there’s free eye cream! FREE EYE CREAM!" It starts to get to you.
Because of this scenario I once ended up hosting three make-up parties within one calendar year. All my friends and family filled their bathroom cabinets up with stuff they’ll never use; and I collected free gift after free gift that I’ve never used, and finally, at the last party, with the help of my relatives, I said, "No." I practically needed a 12 step program to do it; but "no" is a really great word, cathartic even. NO. It feels so good to say it ladies. Say it with me. . . NO. The fact that 99% of women can’t say this word when it comes to home parties is the reason why they are so successful. These parties feed off of peer pressure and the female flaw: the complete and utter inability to say "No" to a friend.
Can you imagine if men had these types of parties? Let’s imagine a tool party for men. Men gather on a Friday night during a basketball game or on a Sunday afternoon during a football game. (I know, I’ve pretty much lost you right here haven’t I? See why this would NEVER happen. Follow along though, just for fun.) All the men gather in the living room of the host. The party begins.
"I’d like to welcome you to Dan’s house tonight for this wonderful and exciting Terrific Tools party. I’d also like to thank Dan for asking me to be here tonight. Because Dan has hosted this party, he’s going to receive a complimentary drill bit set." (Hands set to Dan. Dan lights up with absolute JOY! The other men stare at the bit set for a moment or two. They start to think, "I want a bit set.") The party continues. "If you’d like a bit set, you can purchase one for $70 or (and pauses for effect). . . you can host your own party and receive one for FREE!" The men all clap, ooh, and aah. "Now if you decide to book a party tonight you will receive a goody bag, but I’m not telling what’s in it! You’ll have to wait and find out!" The men stare at the goody bags and let their imaginations run WILD. The presenter moves on to discuss the products.
"Did you know that the tools that you currently have are complete crap? Did you know that they are made from duck feces? Did you know that just by touching them, you are potentially putting chemicals into your body from the duck feces?" The men’s mouths drop open; they look at each other. One mouths, "Oh my GOD! Did you know that? I didn’t know that!" The presenter continues.
"Our tools are made from 100% pure liquid magma. Yes! It’s true. We drill in China to the center of the Earth. We get the best liquid magma through a revolutionary system that extracts the most durable materials on all of the Earth. We then put this liquid magma into the tool molds, and fly it in our specialized airplanes to the North Pole. Once there, we allow the magma to cool, creating the most natural but durable products known to MAN." (Men "ooh" and "ahh" some more.) Twenty more minutes of magma nonsense continue, as the presenter takes the men through the tool catalog page by page explaining why these tools are "the best," and "like no other." The men follow along, hanging on every word, even though they are all perfectly capable of reading on their own.
Before the ordering begins, the presenter gives the pitch on how GREAT it is to be a presenter. They talk about all the money the men would be able to make by becoming a Terrific Tools party presenter. They discuss how you could be driving a BRAND NEW H3 (once you sell $3 billion worth of tools and give up your first born child). Some of the men think, "Wow! A Hummer. I wish I could have a Hummer." (O.k. well actually, this part could be true.)
At the end of the presentation, the men line up to give their orders to the presenter. EVERY man has found something he has to have. The men line up in the dining room so as they wait, they can stuff their faces with cookies, sandwiches, and chips that have been neatly arranged by Dan. Each man spends twice the amount he had thought he would. Several of the men decide to have their own tool parties. After all, that drill bit set is "so cool," and it’s a "great deal." Dan is allowed to pick $200 worth of free products. He orders $600 worth of products. The party is a success!
This is completely ludicrous, right? But go back; insert any home marketed make-up name instead of tools, and change "men" to "women." Instead of duck feces, insert lamb sweat. You’ve now got something that happens on a daily basis. These parties don’t happen with men because men aren’t wired the way women are. They don’t care if they say, "No" to a friend or relative.
When a friend or relative calls and asks me to go shopping and I don’t want to. . . I go. When a friend or relative calls a man and asks him to go shopping. . . oh, wait. That one’s just stupid. Like when does that EVER happen? O.k. a wife asks her husband to go shopping. He says, "No." He doesn’t feel bad; he feels no guilt. He won’t contemplate his nay-saying for the next week. In fact, two minutes from the question, he won’t even remember his wife asked it!
People have built empires around female peer pressure and the fact that we just can’t say "No." I remember, after my third make-up party, the presenter asked me if she could ask me some questions. I was exhausted from ordering three times the amount of stuff I’d told my husband I’d order. I was spent from refusing to book another party. I think I may have even sweat when she asked about yet another party, and I hedged and looked away before finally saying, "No." So, of course, I was worn down. I said she could ask me her questions.
She started in on the whole "you would be great at this" junk. She told me how! much! money! I could make! Playing along, I asked her about the commission. She told me about the commission. This is when I finally woke up. I work from home, and am commission only. I work as a recruiter, placing candidates in salaried jobs. I make 70% commission, and not off the price of a lipstick. I told her so. In a smart tone, she asked how many hours I spent working. I told her I worked extremely limited hours; and I could work with my daughter on my lap. (I felt like I was gaining some momentum.)
"Well," she stuttered, "you can do this on weeknights and weekends. It’s ME time." "That’s not ME time," I retorted. "I work during day time hours and can work when my daughter is napping or playing with a friend. I can also work on-line at 2 a.m. if I need to or want to, but best of all, I don’t have to work nearly as hard as you do and I can make more money than you. I am NOT at all interested. My job doesn’t require me to use family and friends to make a living." I had her on her heels. She’d been bugging me about doing this for a while now. I was getting sick of it.
She said, "But will your job buy you a car???" She thought she had me here. She really did. The look in her eye told me so. "Honey, I can buy myself an XJ8 if I want to, in any color I choose, if I work hard enough and make enough money." (Let me just add here that I do not have an XJ8 and right now have no desire to work hard enough to even get one. Even if I did have the money for one, I’d never buy one. It’s more fun to drool over them and dream anyway. "Dream cars" don’t require gas or tune ups.) I asked her how much she made last year. She told me. That was the end of our conversation. That was also the end of my string of parties. My friends and family were EXTREMELY grateful. So was my husband.
I wish I was wired more like a man when it comes to parties like these. I wish I could say "No" to friends and family more easily. I wish I didn’t have to have the guilt that follows saying "No" when it comes to this kind of stuff. I also wish I didn’t have to now go through my cabinet full of cosmetics to throw out all the stuff that contains squirrel sweat and ladybug feet. Being a woman is exhausting.
Before you start writing me hate mail about how "I am a home make-up presenter and I love it, and everybody I know loves it and you suck and I hate you, etc. etc. etc.," let me just save you the time by telling you that if you enjoy it. . . good for you. I don’t; and it’s my opinion. This was meant to be funny, and if you can’t see that past the 4,623 shades of lipstick you either buy or sell, then that just means you’re in way too deep to appreciate what I’ve said. Seek professional help-hate mail doesn’t work.
Everything you need to know about self defense, you can learn from my 6-month old
It has become abundantly clear in the last few weeks, that Lil C was taking some serious mental notes while in utero. She paid special attention during the many karate classes I attended while pregnant, and seems to have developed her own "action plans" in order to deal with potential threats, i.e. tickling family members. She has taken your basic self defense and turned it into a form of baby karate that I dare anyone to try to escape. She is downright wicked; and since she can’t really speak for herself as of yet, I’ll help her out. The following are her signature moves:
Ear-drum-shattering scream
When in the vicinity of an ear, emit sound from mouth that can only be described as deafening. Potential attacker (or tickler) will immediately forget his/her name and what he/she was doing in order to promptly cover ears and/or take cover, preferably in a sound proof room.
Drown them in Drool
No one can escape the endless rivers of baby drool that occur on any given day. But, get a certain baby excited and simple drool turns into bubbles and cascades of wetness that can serve as an oil-like slick to deter attacker/tickler from even approaching. If attacker/tickler is close enough, a hand full of that drool right in the eye will serve to "blur" the situation and disorient your attacker further.
The Quadruple Threat
If attacker/tickler gets within striking distance, hair pulling is always a great option. There are several ways to invoke pain and suffering with hair pulling. One technique is to grab only a small number of hairs (three or four works quite well). Before grabbing this hair, it is preferable to have enough drool in ones hand so that it will create a sort of gooey glue that adheres to the hair of choice, making a bond more efficient than even crazy glue. Another hair pulling technique is to grab at the roots. The best grabbing is done by reaching far apart with all fingers, then really digging in to those roots, followed by forming a fist around the root hairs. If creativity is lacking, just grabbing a handful in any old fashion will work. Once you have the hair in hand, proceed to pull at unpredictable intervals. If possible, bring the fists of hair to your mouth, thus rendering attacker/tickler unable to dislodge their hair from the grips of drool and fists of fury.
Now, everyone knows that this is called the "quadruple threat" and there are only two hands mentioned so far. The other two threats come from sticky little baby feet. If one can obtain hair and succeed in pulling attacker/tickler close in to the mouth area, it only makes sense to raise up those little feet of yours, spread those toes wide and grab more hair. You now have four points of attack, thus rendering your attacker/tickler incapacitated completely, and in some serious pain. Keep in mind, that if you are able to land just one of these threats, you will succeed; but for each successive appendage involved in the assault, you will multiply your success ten-fold.
The Skin Grab
This works best on arm and leg skin. An especially good location is the skin on the back of the arm, just inches from the armpit. The technique is much like in the quadruple threat. Use those sticky baby hands and grab some skin. Proceed to squeeze, twist, and if not recently trimmed, use those baby nails to really dig in. Incapacitation will occur within seconds.
This skin grab also works with the nose. Grab attacker/tickler’s nose tightly and twist. If you can jam a finger in the entrance of the nostril while doing this technique. . . bonus points.
The Eye Gouge
Nothing says, "I’m sick of listening to you reading this book to me," like a nice stubby baby finger to the eye. Make sure that your movement is swift and unsuspected for ultimate impact.
Remember, that while you are still little and deliciously adorable, these techniques will be viewed as "cute." If you can complete these actions with a smile on your face or emit a giggle-like glee from your mouth while implementing your attack, your victim will never see it coming; and the attack will be that much more successful.
Good luck!
Karate Girls
I’m not really a black belt. . . at least not yet. But I will be some day soon. I am currently a 6th kyu green belt. I earned that green belt while eight months pregnant so I am quite proud of the fact that I could even kick at that point considering I was quite large, carrying oh so low and it was about 9000 degrees. (I had my daughter 10.4.05).
I was inspired to take karate by Laci Peterson, Lori Hacking, and other random female victims whose crimes against them just plain outraged me. Not that I am afraid of my husband, because I am not in the slightest. We’re fine. But, when the whole Lori Hacking thing was happening, I woke him from his sleep at about 1 a.m. after watching about three hours of constant coverage on the story to just let him know that if he ever tried that kind of crap on me, even if he succeeded, my ghost would come back and make his life a living hell. He laughed; he’s used to me.
I started taking karate with my then three-year old daughter and we both continue to go to this day. The proof that my soon-to-be five year old can kick butt??? Ask her Daddy to show you the quarter sized bruises all over his body from when they "spar." She can throw a wicked forearm and if you ask her where to hit a bad guy or gal. . . well, let’s just say that you shouldn’t really ask her that question in places like church, a restaurant, or well, anywhere in public because she will tell you, and loudly.
The cool thing about our karate is that we’re also learning how to use weapons. My personal favorite is the bo, which is a six foot long stick basically. Think back to the days of men or women carrying water jugs on either end of a long stick. It made a handy weapon. So would my swiffer to be quite honest; and don’t think for a second that I don’t practice with that thing while I’m making dinner. My daughter’s bo is actually a dowel from Home Depot and she knows how to use it too, although she prefers pretending it’s a "horsey" from time to time in class. Our instructor is quite amused at her imagination and I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think it was quite funny myself.
While I have the love affair with the martial arts, my daughter has a love/hate relationship with it. At home, she will rail on her daddy; but ask her to spar in class with a layer of padding thick enough to confuse her with the Pillsbury Dough Boy and she’ll demurely tell you that she "doesn’t want to hurt anyone." Regardless, I figure if its in her head and we reinforce it enough, she’ll remember it in case she ever needs it, God forbid.
I’m planning on starting my five month old daughter as soon as she can stand and kick. She had a jump start while in utero. My friends and family may think I’m insane for training my young daughter in karate already, but I figure if we start now, then by dating age they will both be black belts (along with their mama), and I’ll be able to relax a bit more than I would otherwise. Can you imagine the look on a young boys face when he shows up and sees his date’s mother whipping around a swiffer with gusto??? Priceless.
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