Friday, April 18, 2014

What a Woman Wants...

Once upon a time I got a text message.  Here is the website that I would like to share, and then state the female's perspective.

This article states there is a barrier between the sexes.  I completely agree.  It shares how women are killing the men's boner.

Well men are also killing the big "O" for women!

Let me review some big "O" killers:

  • Obesity
  • Careerism (assuming the women should work AND take care of the home, but you don't)
  • Shaving the entire body thinking women like that (this one doesn't)
  • Talking too much about politics
  • Calling out women's cooking when she is learning and at least trying to get better at it
  • Addiction to iPhones
  • Being promiscuous because it's OK for a man to be, but not a woman
  • Obsession with 1950's women
  • Lack of education

I am sure there are more, but this is a short list.

1. “By eating this cupcake, even though I’m already 20 pounds overweight, will I increase a woman's big "O" or expect her to only eat salads or decrease it? DECREASE.  Put the buffalo wings down.  You should eat a damn salad too!
2. “If I work and buy you nice things then keep working.  DECREASE.  If you want me to cook dinner, keep a house clean and raise children, then make more MONEY so we can survive on 1 salary. YOURS.

3. “If I put on shorts in the middle of winter, will I increase a woman's big "O" or decrease it?” DECREASE. Put some damn jeans on, it's fricking cold outside moron!
4. “If I’m on a first date with a man and I pay and or expect to go dutch, will it increase her big "O" or decrease it?” DECREASE.  Pony up the dough and we might want to pay the next time.  This includes fun dates and travel.
5. “We’re about to have sex but I’m feeling insecure that he thinks he will leave right after and never call. Will saying ‘I don’t usually do this’ increase a woman's big "O" or decrease it?” DECREASE.  Stay and make breakfast.
If a man wants a a good woman, he must cease and desist big "O" killing behaviors and start performing big "O" enhancing behaviors. Many men of the world understand this piece of advice and take care of the woman's car maintenance, open the damn door, and pick up the check.
They say men want a traditional woman, but expect them to work and have two jobs, one outside the home and one maintaining the home.  Men want kids at some point, but they want you to take care of the majority of things, doctor's appointments, sporting events and clothes shopping. Plus, after all of that, they want the refrigerator stocked and a home cooked meal and their dry cleaning picked up and their laundry done.  
I would really like to see a man work 60 hours a week and then also tend to a household and children.  It couldn't be done.  Do you know why?  Men cannot plan.  They don't use a calendar, they don't think ahead, they just expect it.  However, if we would like a bit of help or the ability to stay home, that is a crime.  
Just a thought.  
The End.

Friday, January 31, 2014

How to Make a Friend...

Once upon a time, I was told to write about how to make friends, because for me, it's easy.  I thought, maybe I can do that.

Step 1:
Talk to people.  It's almost like dating.  You have to see if you like that person right?  Or why would you waste your time talking to someone.  I could be at a party and know only the person throwing it and make 5 friends.  I can talk, when I want to.  I can also listen too.  ACTIVELY.  

Step 2:
Find something in common.  So people who tend to be friends, tend to have things in common.  I am from up north, and I tend to gravitate to people who are from the mid-west.  Now I am not saying ALWAYS.  It's just easy to relate to.  I do know some people from the South.  Even some who were born in Texas.  You can pick these people out right away.  They have a draw to their speech and they tell you that Texas is the greatest country ever.  But this person could also go to Asia concerts with you too.  It really doesn't matter, but having things in common makes it easy.  Maybe your favorite phrase is, "SUCK IT."  Maybe their favorite phrase is the same.  Bond!! 

Step 3:
Make a Connection.  Ask for that person's number, face-book, twitter account, email, WHATEVER. Pick one.  If you like this person, and you want to get to know them, then you have to make contact.  

Step 4:
CALL the person.  What?  I know, what a concept.  How are you going to make a friend if you don't make plans? Bingo.  Make some plans.  Go for coffee, a cocktail, a movie.  It's easy.  I swear.

Step 5:
You have a new friend.  So friendship works 2 ways.  You have to call and they have to call.  I find this to be a MUST.  Now, I am going to tell you a few other things about friendship that you will need to know once you make a friend.

Just because you don't talk daily, it doesn't mean you don't have a friend.  I have an old roommate from college and I can go 6 months without talking to her.  But when she calls, or when I call, it's like we have never been apart.  We catch up on each other's lives.  We always call on each other's birthday and send a gift.  While we aren't on the phone, I type and SNAIL mail her letters.  She loves this.  I love to write them.  She says she always sits, and laughs and then emails me.  A friend will get mad at you.  No body is perfect right?  I mean sometimes, even I do dumbass things.  Now let me clarify a little bit.  There are friends, that you have a connection with, and then there are the top 5.  The top 5 is the people in your close circle.  You talk the most, and you probably see them the most.  They are the ones you call when you are sad, call when you wreck your car, and call when you want to stab someone at work just because.  I always have a top 5.  Now some people move in and out of the top 5, but at any given time I have a top 5.  If you want to test that top 5.  Call them when you REALLY need them, and see what happens.

This is the part where I tell you what is supposed to happen!!!

What should happen is they drop whatever, and come to your aid.  They drag you out of the house for a pedicure.  The fly to Kentuckana at the drop of a hat.  They text and call you to make sure you aren't hanging from the ceiling fan.  They take you out for a cocktail or 10, but best of all, they ARE THERE when you need them.  Hands down.  Have a crisis and you will see who stands next to you.  

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Why Are We Always in a Hurry?

Doesn't it feel like we are always in a hurry?  I am not talking about just day to day, but in life.  I blame society.  Sometimes I feel like I am so behind.  I am not complaining about my AWESOME life, but sometimes, just sometimes I need to vent a little.  

So this is how it are in high school.  The first rush to life is this, "have you picked a college?"  The pressure is to go to college and learn something.  The problem is when you get there you don't really know what you are interested in.  Some people do, like the nurses and the doctors, they seem to have it figured out much sooner then the rest of us.  So you go to college and then you have to pick a major.  For me, I didn't pick a major until I was about a junior.  They forced me to pick.  So I picked psychology, because I liked it.  But thankfully my dad said, well if you want to get a job, you better minor in business or something.  At the time, I wanted to work with people and do something to help others.  If I could go back in time, I should have majored in IT or Accounting.  Both really don't deal with people too much, but a little.  At 35, I know EXACTLY what I want.  I want to fly all over the country and tell people what to do, and then they DO IT.  I don't want any employees, I want to  be an individual contributor.  I want to make more dang money.  I know that money doesn't solve the world's problems.  For me, I just want to catch up, catch up with Miss Italian Accountant, my wise friend - Miss Ford Focus, or my dad.    

So you get a job, and you start at the bottom.  You learn that there are stereotypes and politics and bureaucracy.  Nothing prepares you for that.  You walk in idealistic.  You can change the world.  You have the answers.  A good friend of mine, Mrs. Jones (ironic because we both, truly love Bridget Jones' Diary)  She married a Jones, isn't that crazy?  Ok, back to the story, she was and is 5 years older than me.  I met her, and she said to me, "You are so idealistic, I give you 5 years before you become cynical."  At the time, I was a mere 22 and she was 28, on her way to 30.  My boss at the time, treated me like the 4th kid in her family. I hated it, I wanted to be treated like a grown up.   I laughed when she said it to me.  Then, I hit 28, 29 and 30 and I got it.  I really got it.  I wasn't green anymore.  

My next job, is where I loved the people, I was still the youngest in the office.  With that, I brought fun, pranks, and a genuine knowledge of how to treat employees and what a thank you really mean.  My past employees, are people I consider my second family.  I miss them every day that I go to work at my current job.  They were kind, and loyal, and they still are. Eventually, I got bored. Not with the people, with the job itself.  I did lots of different things, and each day was different but I wasn't moving up.  All during this time, one particular Ninja who worked in the warehouse kept asking me, "when are you going to settle down? when are you going to stop partying and have a family and some babies, tick tock, tick tock."  At the time, I was dating the shingle boyfriend, as I like to call him.  He brought nothing to the table.  WHATSOEVER.  My dad literally broke out into painful shingles because he didn't like this guy for me.  In the end, he and my mom were right.  Right again, I should say.  I just hadn't found someone that completed me in the right way.  Everyone I worked with was married, some had 6 dang kids, but there wasn't any prospects for me.  I think I tried every dating tactic known to man.  I combed the gym, the grocery store, the local happy hours, my friends who had friends.  Nothing.  I tried dating online for the better part of a decade.  But at work, I wanted to move up.  Get promoted, run the show.  But I was stuck.  I worked with lots of men, ALL sales men.  
So my gaybors talked me into grad school.  Within the week, I was enrolled.  This should do it, this should catapult me to the top.  I was and am good with people, I am smart, I listen and I have a million good ideas.  Not the one to have my own business yet, but still a bunch of good ideas.  Plus, I had to go to grad school or I would be the black sheep in my immediate family.  Even my brother has a masters in art, of which he doesn't use, and he doesn't paint anymore.

So for me, I want everything to fall into place NOW.  I am tired of waiting.  I am tired of having a job that doesn't make me happy.  I am tired of searching for a job that WILL make me happy.  I am tired of getting up super early and getting home super late.  I am mad at the gym because they don't have classes that work around my schedule.  I miss cycling with Dr. Mom who does it all and keeps me in awe.  When I feel overwhelmed, I think well Dr. Mom does way more than me, so suck it up!  

So finally, finally at the ripe age of 30-something, I met this great guy...he is starting to look like this.  He doesn't have a mustache, because if he did, it might be white.  Remember, he had a gray hair at 10 years old, or so he claims.
So he changed jobs, and that is great, but I am also like HURRY UP!!!  It can be what are we doing this weekend?  and then my demand takes off to where are you going in life?  am I going forward with you? and can you tell me when that will be? A date?  A time? An estimate?  We are taking our first trip to Viva Las Vegas in December.  He has never been.  I am like WHAT?  
I have been given permission from Miss Silky Hair Cowgirl that I can go buck wild.  She is my tall building travel companion.  I mean really wild, because the men will be there to react or make sure we don't end up in jail.  I can't guarantee that I won't be dancing on a stage, singing Tom Jones.  I can also not guarantee that I won't be in body glitter for 4 days either. You know body glitter goes with everything especially in Vegas.

So at this point, I guess I am waiting for A VACATION, which will have to do for now...

Monday, October 7, 2013

Mom = AWESOME, and You Better RECOGNIZE!

Once upon a time, I came to the realization that being a mom is a hard job.  Perhaps I never full appreciated until NOW.  So my mom is the ideal picture of what a mom should be (in my opinion).  This is her below...well close enough.

Now my mom is a cross between June Cleaver and Martha Stewart.  That is what I tell people.  A few things you should know about MY mom.  She always has her face on,  unless she is deathly ill.  She is an exquisite cook, although I have no talent in the art, but read the cook book she gave me like the Bible of the kitchen.  She is smart, independent and sweet like honey.  She is creative and crafty, which I am also not.  Now, currently she is a lady of leisure, which I strive to be and which after yesterday, she has definitely earned.  However, she is always there when you need someone to visit the house at some ridiculous window of 12PM-5PM.  She has saved me on many occasions.  Plus, she has already decorated her house for Halloween.  I think I would CRY if she ever stopped.

Now just recently, my boyfriend had his daughters to my house.  I was paying one of them to scrape glue off my hardwood living room floor.  That is an entirely different story however.  So then, I hear, "I am hungry..."  I am like oh yea, kids have to be fed.  Then, the panic sets in.  I have basically wine, mayo and yogurt in the fridge, not really much for a meal.  So I run down a couple options.  Taco Soup, Chicken ala King...Basically my 5 meals that I can cook well.  They squint, and pause and groan.  I am like SANDWICHES or better yet panini's.  You really can't go wrong with a sandwich.  So guess who is going to the store?  I tell the lovely boyfriend that I will pick up Chicken, Pesto and some ice cream.  Does the lovely boyfriend offer any funds?  No.  Do I care? Well not until the end when I have $6.00 for the week...but that comes later.  So I tell him I am going to head to Albertson's.  He sighs and says their chicken is kinda eh.  I almost had to choke him out.  I only chose that store because it is next to the Marble Slab where I had just then purchased a groupon to pick up some fancy ice cream.  He is a cake-eater about food and only shops at Costco.  I can often get a few things there, but I don't grocery shop there unless its for 2 things I need in great quantity 1) WINE, 2) I am having a damn party with a minimum of 10 people.

So the boyfriend cooks some bacon in the oven.  So I run to the store in hurry.  Forget band-aids and kitty food which is what I really need to get.  But when you are in a hurry, those things are a second though.  So I get the food, SIDEBAR: see Apple Cider, pick that up because it's fall and I LOVE IT.  Then I head to the ice cream store, pick  up a ridiculous amount of ice cream because the neighbors might come over, (BUT THEN THEY DO NOT).  Which actually is fine by the end of the evening.  I come home, pull out tortas (fancy, stiff bread) out of the freezer, and begin to prep.  I am thawing bread.  Then, I said are you ready to grill the chicken, boyfriend states, "yes," then I am the one pulling out the grill.  WHAT?  So I cut open the chicken and he is in the spice cupboard and he is pulling out the lemon pepper.  He was like, "how old is this?"  The cake-eater returns.  I am like it's old, what I don't tell him is that is about 8 years old and you don't really buy spices when you don't cook.  I have the important spices, Cajun whatever, and GARLIC.  Oh and food coloring.  Who doesn't love food coloring???  I digress.  So I find some steak seasoning that is relatively fresh, and by that I mean about a 1 year old or so, give or take.  He dumps the lemon pepper and uses that.  Now, since the bacon was cooking, the house was hot, and smells like Mineral Spirits a lovely chemical of death.  So the chicken cooks, oh and I also got a bonus package of chicken.  Not on purpose, but the idiot check out guy was hurrying me and apparently wanted the fastest scan time in all the land, so when I was ready to go, I grabbed the bags and dashed out.  Well I got someone's family pack of chicken...

So anyways, I am prepping the sandwiches and I had also picked up some candy for the girls.  They are fighting because they can't seem to share.  I am like yes, I recall this.  And then, THEN, I reflect on my mom.  My poor mom.  I bet she wanted to kill me and my brother half the time.  I mean, at that moment I thought, I should have slapped her a high five for kicking ass at raising me.  She could have choked me.  She didn't.  

So since the girls are hungry, they are secretly snatching bits of bacon which was in a bowl to put on the sandwiches.  I don't really notice, I had a small piece, whatever.  So finally after 3 hours or so the damn chicken is cooked.  Now it is good like always but it was also thick and took a while to cook.  The boyfriend then gripes about my dull knives and cuts like one chicken breast because the other fat ones are still cooking.  (I cut the rest...and try not to think of Slasher Halloween movies in the process)  I prepare the girl's sandwiches first.  Plain.  No pesto, no spice, nothing.    So I make one and cut it in half, bring out the chips and put it on the table which I have expanded.  Then the fighting begins.  I am like just split it and then when the next one is ready, you can split that.  Good grief.  Oh and don't worry, there is no bacon for the last 2 sandwiches...So they don't sit at the table but are up and about.  Whatever.  Then the lovely boyfriend threatens them and that if one doesn't sit down, he will eat the sandwich.  So of course that happens and you would have thought we were about to go though a shortage of food like the depression.  She is whining...again.  So the older sister gives her hers and then what happens, you guessed it.  They eat like half of the half of sandwich.  Awesome.  They leave their plates at the table and go back to using their smart device...Meanwhile, I am finishing the third sandwich and the boyfriend is now eating without me.  This is a cardinal sin in my book.  You don't do that.  He realizes it, apologies, but it's too late.  I am hot, irritated and no longer hungry.  I remember when my mom would cook and she would be tasting what she was making and then by the end, not be hungry.  That is where I was.  But maybe, just maybe, it was because she was irritated and wanted to kill us...I was quiet and mad, and the man knew it.  He is pretty gracious with what can he do better?  But by then, I had to really think.  Am I crabby, tired and mad?  Or do I need to start World War III.  Eh, I went with tired.  I cleaned the entire kitchen, scrubbed dishes and loaded the dishwasher.  BEATING.  What happened to I cook and you clean?  

So the kit and caboodle leave and the man calls me and what happened?  He forgot the organic chemistry book (don't ask), the leftover sandwiches, and the Red box movie.  Then he said, yea, can drop that off, referring to the movie.  It was like re-igniting the fire.  I got off the phone shortly after.  Then, I was up.  I was awake, so I watched some TV, then more TV, and then I really couldn't sleep.  I had a hangry headache (DEFINITION OF HANGRY: ANGER FUELED BY HUNGER).  So needless to say, this girl needed a day off.  The morale of the story is this, being a MOM must be tough.  I am not a mom, but now I sympathize a bit.  I should call my mom and thank her for not killing me as a kid.  She's great.  

The End.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

The Worst Boss EVER

Once upon a time there was a girl deemed the smartest girl in Bedford, TX.  Well this poor girl got a new job in 2012 with all of the highest hopes in the world.  Quite honestly, she was just happy to have a job and pay her mortgage.  So this is where the story begins.  You see, she got a government job.  The benefits seems great, everyone was nice, the pay was pretty good, BUT, and that's a big BUT, it should have started at 500,000 with what she learned she was about to be putting up with.  *Evil horror movie music starts here, actually picture the shower scene from Psycho*  
There were some immediate downfalls. 

Downfall #1

The office is FAR, and not far in mileage, but FAR in how long I would have to sit in traffic.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't drive too much or there would be dead bodies on 183E and then more dead bodies on I35E.   I am guessing I would probably lose my CHL and then they would haul me to Prison, and my friends would only be able to see me on Lock Up, the show on MSNBC Friday through Sunday.  (If you haven't seen, you will need to tape some of that action).  I take the train and pretend I live in a real city like Chicago or New York.  Luckily, it is a good time to read books and escape the dread of going to work, and then it becomes a calm place when leaving this horrible nightmare of a job.  So on top of the longest commute in the history of the world, I have to get up at the crack of dawn for.

Downfall #2

I sit in a cube where the walls aren't high enough.  It's like half walls, so everyone can see me and everyone can talk and you are just stuck in the middle.  I have no door to close, or rather no door to slam in someone's face.  

Downfall #3

There is no expense account, so I thought I came from a place where we couldn't spend too much money because it was always tight, here you literally can't spend a dime.  If you do spend a dime, it's your dime. 
Downfall #4

The attire is business.  Who does that anymore?  Oh hey, go get a suit and some panty house because it's 1970 around here.  I mean the only break you get is the summer, and I am guessing because it's 1,000 degrees out.  Or perhaps someone just dropped over of heat stroke from wearing a Men's Warehouse suit, who knows!  What I know is that I think panty hose are stupid. 

So all of that was pretty shocking to me.  But, what shocked me the most was MY boss, or should I say, the boss I think I report to right now.  The Heat Meizer.  My friend, we will call her, African Queen, painted the best picture ever.  She showed me a video and basically that describes her.  She wears linen, like a lot, it's the most wrinkled fabric known to man, or at least to me.  As soon as you sit down one time, it's like you need to bust out an iron.  I am not sure why she chooses that, but she has an entire outfit in fluorescent yellow.  
Manager 101 Flaw #1

But besides the linen, she refuses to let anyone make a single decision without HER consent.  I mean, last time I checked, I knew how to make a decision.  So what is terrible is that this has been beat into the employees and now they can't do ANYTHING without asking her.  What happened to empowering your employees to make a decision and think for themselves?  If you do something without telling her or "keep her in the loop", she raises her voice at you.  This happened once.  I then informed her I understood she was mad, but I wasn't afraid of her.  It's like this overall feeling in the office that everyone cowers to her.  I don't get it.  She is just a person. 

Manager 101 Flaw #2

She has a hierarchy system, basically like Royalty in the 17th century.  I mean, she treats hourly employees terrible, like she is better than them and that they don't deserve to be in the same room as her.  It is horrible.  I mean, why would you treat people that way?  Not everyone has the same opportunities.  Plus, it doesn't mean they aren't smart.  Everyone is NOT cut out for college, but end up just fine in the world.  She only speaks to people who have formal education.  I just think that is plan wrong.   What I find ironic, it they are always the ones that save your ass.  I mean, they know the system, they know other people in different departments.  Plus, they happen to be pretty technical, while the advanced managers are often not.  So why for heaven's sake would you talk down to someone that can help you if you just simply asked with a please and a thank you? 

Manager 101 Flaw#3

She wants change, but doesn't change anything.  Just because it has been done that way for the last 100 years doesn't mean it is the best thing going forward.  You can present a million great ideas or things to implement efficiency and she will either ignore it or it will get lost in her office, never to be seen again. 

The morale of this story is FIND ANOTHER JOB...and I plan to.

The End.

Friday, July 5, 2013

The Boyfriend Effect

Once upon a time, I finally found a boyfriend (cheers are allowed).  So it's almost like when you tell people, they say one of two things, 1) AWE, great!  or 2) Finally, dude.  It's really a toss up.  I mean, I consider myself a good catch, but it appears that I am the lucky one.  So let me tell you why and give you some examples.  First, he is a friendly guy, here is a picture of good ol' Jimmy.  He would kill me if he knew that is the name I gave him in my blog.  Well it was that or Giovanni.  Well whatever, I am the blogger.  

Ok, so that really isn't him.  Put this is how I kinda picture him, since he is in sales.  He basically can make this same gesture and it's spot on.  However, I noticed that when I introduced to him to a few of MY people, they would facebook friend him.  Now you are like Diana, so what?  He sits back and lets the new friends roll in.  You know what, YOU'RE WELCOME!  Then, my parents, I actually asked my dad, hey who is the last guy you liked, that I introduced  you to?  Brent *names have been changed to protect the innocent X-boyfriends of my life*  I mean basically, my parents haven't liked anyone I dated since HIGH SCHOOL!  Hello.  What happened?  I said, oh hey I am going to date a bunch of douchbags for 17 years.  Apparently so.  They do, however, like Jimmy.  FINALLY, dude.  (see I say it too, sometimes.)  

So then the compliments roll in, "oh, he is so well mannered", "oh, he is so handsome with good hair", "oh he has a lovely smile", "oh he cooks, how did you luck out?"  Well I PICKED him, damn it.  Where is the credit going?  I mean he didn't show up on my front door.  I had to SEARCH.  I mean, yes, my past record hasn't been great.  BUT, I weeded those fools out.  I have kept my standards, anticipating that I would find Mr. Right.  So there you go.  I am pretty clear on the fact that I can't cook.  So hence since he loves to cook, I love to enjoy and sample that good cooking, plus I do clean up people!  He's taller than me.  Well folks, I didn't wake up yesterday and go, oh hey, I am so tall I think I will date a short guy so I can feel like the Amazon chick I am EVERY OTHER DAY OF THE YEAR!   I mean my friends make me feel like that because they are all 5 foot nothing.   I have used these important tools to design what I am looking for.  Now he isn't perfect, but that is for another day and another blog.

Now I will tell you this.  I can tell you that I do truly appreciate him, because, I dated all those douchebags, and when you have been through that fun, you will truly savor the day you meet someone sweet and caring.  It's like going to the path of righteousness in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  "Only the penitent will pass."  I swear, I am Indiana Jones, and I have to go through all these little tests to get to the cup, which might be Jimmy.  It's just a comparison, don't get nuts now.  I happen to reference 80's movies, so get on board.  Miss Hollywood gets it, so you should too.  

Just remember all the great things he is getting.  Here, I will help you with a list:
1) NOT crazy
2) Has a job (if you can call it that)
3) Blonde with no split ends, and TALL
4) Hilarious, thoughtful and friendly
5) Financially responsible
6) Brilliant

I mean, it's a wonder it took this long.  

The End.

Friday, June 14, 2013

The Great Divide

I just recently had a conversation with my co-workers in regards to manners and respect.   We know that manners differ around the world, but we forget that they also differ from region to region within the United States, too.

I was thrown into the North verses South debate of whether or not to say “Yes, ma’am,” and “No, Sir.” Southerners are adamant and I mean that to the fullest extend of the word, that this shows good manners and respect when both adults and kids use it. While Northerners use please and thank you a lot as well as other polite expressions including “Sure” or “No problem”—we can’t bring ourselves to add the “Ma’am” or the “Sir.”  I consider myself a person with good manners.  I do say thank you A LOT, and I am quite sure I am the 'Princess' of written thank you notes. 

I have also read that northerners have said not to say “Yes, Ma’am,’ or “No Sir” as “it sounded subservient.”  I tend to agree.  However, I am in the South and I accept that it is a sign of respect. 
Good manners or subservient? Is this what it boils down to? After listening to lots of “Yes, ma’ams” throughout my life, it has became both familiar and pleasant. None the less, truth be told, it is difficult for me in turn to say “Yes, ma’am” and “No, Sir.” It would take longer than twenty years for me to adopt. 

So who’s right? Well no one. Just as it’s good manners to slurp your noodles in Japan or to belch after a meal in Taiwan, no one is right and no one is wrong. Different people with different histories, traditions and culture develop different rules.

So what’s the answer? Please don’t judge us too harshly when we don’t say “Yes, ma’am” or “No, Sir”! 
As for respect, and titles, I might see things a little different.  Now my close friends who have kids, have their children call me 'Your highness'.  Actually that would be awesome.  However, they call me Miss Diana.  My God-kids call my Diana, which makes no difference to me.  However, in my work environment, I call people by their first name.  They are people that I work with.  I mean no disrespect, but I see it as we are even.  We work in the same environment.  I will call you by your first name whether you are 22 or 62.  I really don't see any issue with that. 

HOWEVER, the ladies I work with insist that you put a Ms. or Mr. in front of people that are your elder.  For me, it depends on the situation.  It also depends on how I am introduced.  If I only know you as Mr. Johnson, then I will tend to just call you that, unless corrected.  Now my man (yep- do you see how I stuck that in, like it was totally natural?) has a mother that happens to be 92. (long story) I recently got her a birthday card.  I was torn as to whether I should call her Ms. Williams or Helen of Troy (but she isn't from Troy, but some po-dunk town you haven't heard of ...I digress).  So I went with Ms. Helen.  I am an adult.  I respect her so that is why I added the Ms, well that and she is 92.  Now this man of mine (see - there is a little ownership there but not too much like he is my property), he calls my parents Mike and Carol, (yep - like the Brady Bunch).  I don't care, and I am sure they don't care.  I mean, this smart ass guy would tell you they are just happy there is a man around.  (SIDEBAR - Yes, I am grateful because I dated a lot of frogs, but I know I am the best thing he has EVER found, and I know this because he once told me he was waiting for 'crazy'...I might be the first one that isn't!!!)

The End.