A New Year for us Bitches

By Sarah

So, right after midnight the phone rings and naturally my first thought is that it's the cops to tell me something happened to my son who was welcoming the new year with his friends downtown or the neighbors to complain about the eight teenage girls gathered around the bonfire in our backyard bellowing Auld Lang Syne at the tops of their lungs.

Nope. It was Kathy Sweeney screaming, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" from Pittsburgh, the sound of revelry bubbling behind her. I was pretty groggy when I answered so the first thing I want to do this morning is apologize for sounding like a grump and to wish her a Happy New Year back. Because my goal for this upcoming year is a daunting one - not to be so much of a bitch.

Granted, this ain't easy. As I get older and spend more time writing alone, peering at the world through the towering safety of a spare bedroom/home office window, I've found myself eagerly fulfilling my destiny as a crone. The chin hairs are still under control and I haven't (yet) thrown rocks at the local urchins to keep them off my lawn, but both possibilities are on the horizon. The problem is I have seen the future and I like it. Life is short and there's so much bitchin' to do.

But this weekend a funny thing happened. My dog, Fred, a wandering Basset, took off when Charlie and I - gasp! - escaped for an afternoon of antique hunting. Our children (idiots!) let him go and when we returned they claimed he was sleeping in the igloo out back. This was a blatant lie.

Fred was everywhere but the igloo. As darkness fell and he still hadn't returned, a panic settled over our family as we frantically searched our wooded snowy village for his fat butt. People had "just seen" him on their porches, in the road, at their doors, on the bridge. Even in someone's car! Tammy, who works at the school, said Fred hadn't been to her house, but he'd visited her mother who let him sleep on her deck. At the bottom of our road, in the defunct hamlet of Shady Rill, the issue of Fred and what to do with him had been burning up the telephone wires. He had a tag, yes, but no name. And though everyone knows our dog, Ben, a big hairy mutt, few were aware we also owned Fred, a relative newcomer and a nogoodnik at that.

Let me just say this -it is not a good sign when you call the constable and his wife (our son's former first-grade teacher) answers with, "Are you calling about the Basset?" even before she says, "Hello."

This meant I had to go door to door on Saturday night trying to find him. It was embarrassing and intrusive. If I'd been the one bothered, I'd have been put out, being that I'm a bitch. I could picture myself grumbling under my breath about the need to keep one's dog under control, etcetera, etcetera. It was the Saturday before New Year's, for heaven's sake. Didn't people have any sense?

Unbeknownst to me, however, I lived in Whoville. Unlike moi, my neighbors weren't bitches, they were lovely. They invited me in to their homes. They took my phone number and clucked their tongues and even trudged with me out into their backyards with flashlights. Tammy's brother got in his van and went  looking. A little man who lived in a broken down red shack with pinwheels on the lawn and fifteen wind chimes in the best representation of Appalachian style poverty, eagerly told me that Fred was way up the road, having been given a ride in Randy's car. Then he offered me a cigarette (I declined) and we discussed his three yapping Maltese who were hysterically jumping up and down behind a sign that read "Warning: Beware of Spoiled Dogs." I was in love. I wanted him to adopt me.

It was my Grinch moment. Turns out, the world is not full of morons or selfish trolls. People assumed the best of one another. They were understanding and kind and eager to help. When I went back to get snowshoes so I could continue my search in the woods, a neighbor I'd bugged earlier called to say Fred had heard me shouting his name in her backyard. He was in her kitchen. By the way, she'd read every one of my books and was probably my biggest fan.

So that's my New Year's resolution, along with the usual dropping of ten pounds and exercising five days a week. From now on, I'm going to assume the best in people. I'm going to think, "Yes!" instead of thinking "No!" I'm going debitchify if I can.

That's if I can. There is an inner bitch core of me that's been calcified hard. I have the feeling it's gonna take more than one night of dog hunting and one year of trying to break it down.

Happy New Year!

Sarah 

   

Comments

[Maryann Mercer]

Happy New Year, Sarah!
Debitchify sounds like another of those great TLC bumper stickers :o) I'm so glad Fred (and you) are fine, atlhough Fred porbably looked at it as an adventure...new people, new smells, new rides (my grand-pets are beagles so I know whereof I speak). He'll want to repeat once the weather gets better too...so be on your guard.
I've been crochety for years :o) It comes with age, and frustration, and the urge to be better, which is what we all aspire to on New Year's Day. Your bitchiness will assert itself at just the right time, no mattter what you think. We need to be that way just to keep the balance. OK. That's my pep talk for January 1. Chuck tells me I need to get off the PC so he can connect "the router" whatever that is. We just went broadband...see, I'm not only crochety, I resist change :o)
One thing...Rose Bowl. Cheer on the Illini, OK? No one but Illini Nation thinks they can win. We need all the help we can get :o) And I will root for anyone you choose in exchange!

[Kerry, the Martial Tart]

Happy New Year! Isn't it great to experience the goodness in people? When I think about it, I realize that I get that in small doses most days, but my awareness of it is usually overshadowed by the equally frequent rudeness (usually experienced on the overcrowded roads in my area). Every once in a while, though, I get one big, concentrated dose that reminds me that, in fact, most people really are nice and trying to do the right thing most of the time. With that in mind, one of my resolutions is now to look for and acknowledge those small, positive moments instead of focusing on the negatives. That, and getting back on the wagon with my Healthy Lifestyle Change (7 pounds to go . . .).

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Happy New Year!

Y'know, there is nothing wrong with being a bitch when the situation calls for it. But I hear you - it shouldn't be one's default setting.

I agree - Debitchify would be a great TLC bumper sticker.

One of my best New Years' Resolutions ever was in 2002, when I decided to see at least one live performance each month. Sometimes it was an art exhibit, and sometimes a concert. I may have to re-up that one.

[Harley]

Oh, Sarah, can I come live with you? I love your town. I'll love your dogs. And you can bitch at me all you like. (Warning: I'm sensitive and cry easily.)

I haven't made resolutions but I gave up a bunch of stuff that I didn't want around anymore (like The Excessive Fear of What Will They THink?) I wrote them down on little slips of paper and burned them in a candle, which then decomposed in a really scary way and melted all over the kitchen table. I guess that's a good sign.

[William Simon]

Sounds to me like Fred's got Life wired. He goes for a stroll, and the whole town turns out about it. Pretty important little guy, you ask me...:)

[Mary Storyteller]

I once watched all traffic stop in both directions on Harvester Road (busy route then, busier now) while people helped a woman catch her little dog and put him in the car. The coolest part was that no one seemed upset by the delay, just all happy to see the dog safely restored to its family. The majority of people are like that. Now that there are more aches and pains in my body, I have to keep "resetting my smile." A new friend at aqua-aerobics was sharing a tip of checking expressions in the mirror, to learn when one's face might be sending an unintended message.
Storyteller Priscilla Howe had this quote on her web site today:
I keep the telephone of my mind open to peace, harmony, health, love and abundance. Then whenever doubt, anxiety or fear try to call me, they keep getting a busy signal and soon they'll forget my number.
--Edith Armstrong.
Happy 2008 y'all!

[Elaine Viets]

Happy New Year, Sarah. Is there a special Mom medal for keeping any patience under those circumstances? If so, give it to yourself. And be kind to your inner bitch. There are days when we all have to be one to survive.

[Josh]

Sure, they seem nice in person. But wait until they have the chance to post something anonymously online, like that Borders dude. Then, you get the Marie Antoinette treatment.

[SarahS]

Josh - you're back!!!

And you're right. It's the anonymity that kills niceness. When you live in a small town you have to be nice to one another because you're going to see your neighbor again, real soon. At the grocery store, at the school concert, town meeting. Ain't no escaping 'em.

[ArkansasCyndi]

Happy New Year Sarah

am SO GLAD you found Fred but it does sound like he had a nice adventure (Fred's Big Adventure - sounds like a child's book, doesn't it). Your town sounds wonderful.

I decided a few years ago that being happy and seeing the glass as half-full is a choice or at least it was on my part. It has made a difference.

Hey - how come I didn't get a drunken call from Kathy Sweeney at midnight??

Anyone heard what Margie did last night? Margie - report in. Inquiring minds want to know.

[Rita Scott]

Happy New Year all!
In this small burg (500) the only restaurant/ bar closed at 5:00pm so the owners could go out. That's good, cause the thought of one of the home boy's giving out kisses at midnight is enough to make you upchuck! (dental hygiene is not a high priority here! LOL)
I usually don't make resolutions but since I promised Elaine a quilt if she didn't die, I have to get off my ass this year and get some projects done!

[Elli]

Thanks Sarah!

This is a reminder I needed today; trying to go grocery shopping yesterday almost completely did in my faith in humanity. Having spent nearly twenty minutes trying to park, I almost found myself in a physical altercation with woman who nearly killed me with her lexus. I eventually gave up on parking went home and fumed a little. Good to hear that somewhere people are still what I desire them to be, helpful and kind!

[Mary Storyteller]

Sometimes one does need that "inner bitch," or as we called it in the '70's "assertiveness" -- we even had assertiveness training sessions to learn to stand up for ourselves. I used some of the techniques to show my sophomores how to write effective consumer complaints -- made the business letter unit so much more interesting, especially when I told them that I'd used the "F word" to get Toyota on track ("Ford" -- what were you thinking?)
Optimism helps, too. Today's Believenet sent this link
http://www.ehappylife.com/ for those bad days perhaps.
Elli, congratulations for not using the "Fried Green Tomatoes" response.

[Tom]

Author Catherine MacCoun (THE AGE OF MIRACLES, now known as BEYOND THE ABBEY GATES) once advised against female bitchiness. "As for myself," she said, "I prefer to be a bastard."

I believe it was a tactical choice.

A glorious New Year to all!

[Laura (in PA)]

Great blog, Sarah. I have a basset/beagle mix (sometimes called a "bagel") and we have learned that he doesn't run away, he moseys. One time he sniffed his way into the backyard across the street, then proceeded to ignore all of our increasingly frantic calls of his name. A good scent trumps Mom's voice any day.

I love the descriptions of the neighborly response to your plight. I, too, am finding my bitchiness is starting to outweigh the pleasant side - I think because for years my biggest priority was to please everyone else, then I realized no one was trying to please me. But it's a good reminder to take a breath and give the other guy at least one chance to show he's not on earth just to piss us off.

Until, of course, he does.

[Elaine Viets]

"since I promised Elaine a quilt if she didn't die"

Rita, I hereby absolve you from all deathbed promises. Your catnip treats make felines happy, so work on those, if you feel like it.

[Harley]

Can I have a quilt too if I don't die?

[Mary Storyteller]

I just remembered a friend's explanation of the word:
Being In Total Control of Herself

[outtamydepth]

Just discovered y'all's site and had to comment on the Saga of Fred. You were so much more calm than I would've been had either of my "boys" gone AWOL! Good to know he's home safe and sound, though, after his big adventure.

I grew up in a small rural area (I now live in a metro area) and I can attest to the fact that most folks are just plain nice. You just have to give them the chance -- most people really do want to help. I guess that's why I still wave at strangers and say "please" and "thank you". :) Unless they give me a reason not to, that is! Then my "inner bitch" bursts forth........kinda like the alien writhing from Sigourney Weaver's peritoneum. :)

Sometimes? You just gotta give free rein to that inner bitch. Think of it as a means of psychological catharsis. Used judiciously, it can be a very useful tool in our mental homeostasis. :)

Finally -- thanks so much for you (and your colleagues') books! They are wonderful escape for me, a science geek/nerd, from all of the "stuff" (to use the technical term, LOL) that I read for my profession. Your books are pure brain candy & I love them!

[SarahS]

And we love you, outtamydepth, for reading them.

Thanks for stopping by. Hope to see you again.