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Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Airing of Grievances 1-5

you have been warned.

Ok, I'll admit it. I never really watched Seinfield. In my defense, while it was popular I was living over seas, schlepping my 2 and then plus one kid around from Japan, to Turkey and then to England. But even when I did watch it I sorta scratched my head at it, finding it a bit too....precious? is the word that sprang to my mind--"trying too hard" was also a phrase that kept cropping up.
There was one thing that Seinfeld "invented" that I really really love:

Now, mind you I am a PK (Preacher's Kid). And Christmas was and is a HUGE deal for me on many levels. I love the (fairly romantic) story at its core and all the beautiful classical music written in honor of it. I never tire of Handel.
But, the hilarious concept of a "festival for the Rest of Us" in which you are allowed to air a year's worth of grievances....THAT resonates with me.
So. In honor the 2012 Festivus Season (which I will be celebrating with a Festivus Ugly Sweater Party in my beer bar on 12/23) I give you:
LIZ'S AIRING OF 5 GRIEVANCES (with some help from HANS the Muse, being all Santa sassy):

5.  Dear Skinny B*tch who "Helped" me at The Gap buying jeans:  Being a size 10 does not make me fat. It makes me normal.  I am a healthy, 5'8" female who has carried and  born three good-sized kids.  I eat healthy foods and I exercise but not as much as I should and I drink more alcohol than I should, whatever. I don't need to be made to feel like a mooing heifer by you, in your size negative 2 skank jeggings that you couldn't afford if you didn't have that minimum wage job in an overpriced store.

4.  Dear Makers of said Overpriced Demin: Some of us like to keep our clitoris covered when we go out in public. Could you please stop calling jeans "low riders" when you mean "barely over your pubic hair if you have any?"  I swear that there are women with money to spend who would love to not force our muffin tops on the unsuspecting public.   I am one. And I would buy your jeans.

3.  Dear Barely Engaged Waiter at A Busy Popular Downtown Ann Arbor Restaurant: You may not know who I am (shocking, really as my 14-year old asked me the other day if we could "please go somewhere in town where you don't know everyone in the room?") but I run a bar, among other things. I am the most forgiving and sympathetic tipper you will ever (ever) serve in your entire "service career."  If your "service" is so unthinkably bad that you are flat out stiffed on a nearly $200 meal bill, You Suck and should consider a new job, maybe in phone based customer service for computers? I had the shakes for an hour after not living a single dime for you. I know your boss. He has been notified.

2.   Dear General Reading Public: I write fiction. From Scratch. What I do is hard work. I don't write "smut," or "sex books," or or anything that you think is beneath you so much you have to make fun of it. Sit down, open up your laptop and crank out 150,000 words in 3 weeks on any subject that is coherent, has a plot, more than 2 characters and doesn't head hop or get passive and contains sexual situations that don't read like IKEA instructions or use the words 'bulbous,' 'juicy,' or 'honeypot'. Then you may converse with me in calm tones about our craft. Otherwise shut the F$#@ up.

1.  Dear Big Publishers (those of you who are left):  If you think copycat after copycat story of sassy but tender-hearted virgin meets billionaire emotionally damaged dude with some soft ropes and a flogger is The Next Big Thing--congrats. You have just stumbled onto what 11 zillion readers have already read and moved on from.  Well done being behind the curve.  Move on and find something new please.  Yeah, the Random House flunkies got a fat Xmas bonus thanks to That Book. But I think it's time to find a "new" new thing, no? (p.s. hit me up after you read this. I have some ideas for you).

So there you have it! The 5 things that piss Liz the F%$# off to the point she is willing to toss them out on a giant blog to "air."

Happy Festivus or whatever it is you celebrate. Drink Craft Beer. Anything else and the terrorists win.

HONEY RED: a Menage for Real Life
releases 12/30/12

Pre-order here:
Two men suffering from visible and invisible wounds meet by chance circumstance.

Nick Traynor and Ian Donovan spend a lot of time and effort keeping it very hot, only physical, and purely superficial. But when their resolve starts to slip, a woman is tossed into their midst.

Hannah Williams wants nothing more than to do her job until something better comes along, but is forced to own up to her visceral reaction to Ian, her new boss, and later to Nick, his sometimes lover. 

Lust has a funny way of turning into companionship, and eventually evolving into a deeper connection. Faced with the internal and external complications of their potential three-way relationship, they begin to heal and trust, to consider that it might work. Then life tosses them a hardball, forcing them back into their respective corners, where each must choose what is most important.

Three people determined not to commit, thrown together by fate and undeniable attraction--their nights heat up and emotions run high in spite of a claimed mutual desire to "keep it simple." In the process of honest self-discovery, can they learn that while love is never simple, it is definitely worth fighting for?

He had called the production shots in the brewery from the beginning. Gavin took whatever Ian and his staff of trained brewers made and sold it, not vice versa. It had worked for them. They’d grown from nothing to one of the bigger craft breweries in Michigan inside of six years. Thanks in no small part to the deep pockets the five investors Gavin had recently procured.
Ian respected the hell out of his brother, with his suave manner, his charming patter, clean cut suits and the women who flittered around him like moths to a flame. But damn if Ian didn't curse the man nearly daily for hiring this fiery red-headed temptress who seemed to think that he would be scheduling his brews around her sales. She shoved a computer tablet under his nose. “Look at this.”  Her foot tapped out a familiar rhythm. The “Ian is a stubborn asshole and I’m telling Gavin” one.
He took a step back, trying to get her scent out of his nose. Luckily, she was in full on bitch-mode so he could be pissed, and not horny. Besides, he had his own issues, trying to get Nick to answer his calls, to reconnect. The man was an expert at avoidance so Ian was about to give up, let the one-off be just that. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and took the device. A graph flashed red, indicating that they were running low on their flagship hoppy lager.
“Yeah, Hannah, I know. I updated the damn thing this morning.” He turned away from her, addressed his next comment to the empty fermenter that had fucked up his last batch of that very beer. He had a service call in on it, but believed he’d already identified the problem. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” she yanked the computer out of his hand, brushing his arm with hers in the process, making him shudder and need some distance. “You’re sorry?”
“Yeah, you’re deaf?”
“No, you dickhead, I’m not. But ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it this week. I made a huge sale of the Hopped Up Lager and you know it. I put it here,” she tapped the screen, which flipped over to her shiny new sales reporting system that had become the bane of his brewing existence. “You saw it. I know you did because I see you logged into the shared file and…”
“Listen,” he turned away from the stainless steel vessel and glared at her. “I didn’t sabotage this damn thing on purpose. It failed, okay? Broke, blew a gasket, something that I am attempting to diagnose, or would be if I weren’t occupied being reamed out by you.”  She blew out a breath, started to speak, but he held up a hand. “Spare me. You’re gonna have to short the order. It happens. Jesus.”
“Unacceptable.” She spit out, tucking the computer under one bare arm. She was parading around the brewery in her sales suit, a tight black skirt, sleeveless silk blouse and the patently obnoxious way-too-high heels. Ian forced himself not to drag his eyeballs up and down her frame as that first moment he saw her, with her legs up in the air on her ass on the brewery floor kept replaying. He would not give the bitch the satisfaction. “I need five pallets filled and ready in a week. Make it happen, brewer.” She spit out the last word, emphasizing his role as opposed to hers he guessed, then started to turn on her stiletto heel. Fury made the edges of his vision redden.
Without realizing he was doing it, he reached out, grabbed her arm, spun her around and ground out, “It won’t happen and you know it. Stop coming down here and acting like such a bossy…” he looked down and bit back the word he wanted to use. Her skin was hot under his palm and his body was reacting to her proximity, which only made him madder. She looked at his hand, then up at him, her crazy blue green eyes snapping with something he thought he recognized. He tightened his grip, dragged her closer. “Tomorrow morning five-thirty a.m. Be here.  Wear jeans, a T-shirt and your hair pulled back. I’m sick and fucking tired of trying to make you understand this process. You are gonna brew with me. To appreciate what we do, so you can get exactly how pissed off you make everybody with your ridiculous demands.”
Her eyes flickered down his chest. The distinct sensation of painful erection made him clench his jaw. “I’m busy tomorrow morning.” She whispered.
Ian moved directly into her space, and let their bodies graze each other on purpose. “Yeah, I know. With me.” He leaned over her, keeping his hand on her arm.  Dear God he was horny. He hadn’t had sex in nearly two months, refusing to remember that last time for a lot of reasons. He wanted Nick so badly at that moment, issues and all, he could practically taste the man. But of course, he was somehow within a split second of laying a tongue-tangler on the annoying, frustrating, hot woman in front of him. Tempting as it was, he stopped, let go of her, stepped away.


Suzie Tullett said...

Having never watched Seinfeld either or heard of festivus, that was hilarious... Theraputic even x

Liz said...

glad you enjoyed it.

Molly Daniels said...

I was late to the Seinfeld era, but thanks to reruns, have finally managed to watch many of them. LOVED the Festivus episode! And loved #4 and #1:)

My daughter nags me about the fact I wear my jeans at my WAIST. Hello....I'm a bit too old for the 'plummer's butt' look. AND I prefer my underwear to be well hidden.

Harlie Reader said...

I never watched Seinfeld either. I tried but didn't get it. Oh well...

I have heard of Festivus and your list of five was perfect. Not to rub it in but I've lost 33 pounds in the last six months and my "skinny" jeans now fit and I'm happy. Thank God they cover (with plenty of room)the girly parts.

Plus, I think going to the GAP is horrific. I'd rather poke needles in my eyes.


Liz said...

that's great Harlie. I tend to bounce between an 8 and a 10 depending on how much Bikram yoga I do but am very comfy with my size considering my height. However I still feel that skinny jeans are best left to a 10 years ago Liz, sort of on principal. As I sneak up on 50 it just seems like I'm pulling a Seinfield and trying to hard or something. Bring me the boot cuts and I'm good.

Liz said...

Hey Molly thanks for the comment. I have discovered that the Gap has the BEST compromise jeans, when it comes to the belt line options. American Eagle is the worst (all those barely even cover my you-know-what) while Coldwater Creek ones are too "mom jeans" for me.

Harlie Reader said...

Bootcut jeans are the best.

Thanks for that on my weight loss. It sucks being a diabetic, no beer, no sweets, no nothing but the weight has come off.

Of course, now I'm on high blood pressure and chloestrol meds because of it. UGH!!!


Naomi Bellina said...

Love Festivus, love your gripes. Amen to all! Wonderful post, thanks for sharing, Liz.

Fiona McGier said...

I never watch TV so I only read about Seinfeld or heard my kids talking about it as they watched reruns.

I agree with all of your bitching points, but I work at a retail store selling clothing so some of the women there are like your size-negative 2 clerk. They work only for the discount on the clothes. I work there as one of my jobs because 2 of my kids are still in college. And yes, my body looks like it had 4 large babies...and size 10 is only a distant memory.

You need to shop somewhere that doesn't blast rap music at ear-splitting volume. I know Mom-jeans seem too old for you but you know what? There comes a point where you have to sacrifice your self-image as being "hip" for your comnfort. I, too, like to shop where almost nude young men are on posters all around the place (someone told me her nephew spent 6 hours overnight for Black Friday wearing only his pants, walking through a store that starts with an "H", as advertisement. I said he probably got a lot of phone numbers!) But I don't have the body to squeeze into those clothes anymore, and I don't need to advertise anymore since I'm happily married.

Embrace your inner "adult" and buy some "mom" jeans. You won't regret it!

Re:craft beer, life's too short to drink mass-produced tasteless beer just because it's cheap or they have a large advertising budget. Would I give up beer to fit into size 2 (or even 10) jeans again? Hell no!

Marianne Stephens said...

I rarely watched Seinfeld...I just didn't find it funny but kinda stupid.
Love your list...especially #1 about Big Publishers...throw in RWA too...they just don't "get" it about readers today.
Size 10? What about those of us who are larger sizes? Models today seem to think that waif-like figures and emaciated bodies are great for showing off designer clothes. What's wrong with those designers??

Nicole Morgan said...

Hahaha I could kiss you right now! :) LOVED this post! Always thought Festivus was a great idea. Notice it came with a striped "pole" <-- insert naughty comment about a stripper pole for Mr. and Mrs. Clause! :)

Liz said...

Fionna--I will likely stick with my Gap jeans. I do like them and the CC stuff doesn't fit me right. (and I like the music but that is just me I suppose) but thanks for your advice and commentary. as for the craft beer comment since I own a brewery, I certainly can "blame" my non-size 6 body on all the non macro beer I drink.
cheers all

Liz said...

marianne: ditto to your RWA comment. I belonged one year, spent a lot of money and got essentially told I could pay them but that they didn't really "represent" what I wrote. and once I acknowledged that, I kept my $450 for my Gap jeans shopping sprees


I'm 5'8* and occasionally wear a 10/12. To think I'm fat-I mean really?? I won't even go there with lowriders.

Loved Seinfeld (sometimes more than other times) and think it hilarious my 20+ sons watch it now. Probably says something about the state of TV nowadays.

Katalina Leon said...

I can practically smell the wool on your holiday sweater smoldering!
I think "Juicy Bulbous Honeypot" should the title of your next book! Followed by "Turgid Creamy Woman Folds" Yuck! LOL
Happy Festivus keep the grievances rolling.

Shelley Munro said...

I never got Seinfield. I suspect it is the differences in NZ/US humor. Your list made me grin. Also 5' 8 and jean shops make me cranky :)

msspencerauthor said...

Loved your jeans wishes! I've watched Seinfeld (& laughed) but you really nailed the description of it! As to tipping--my daughter--who put herself through school waitressing, has been known to tip MORE than the bill. Sigh. Meredith

Elf2060 said...

Great post! Thanks for pointing out that there are some of us who don't want to have a breeze around our waistline and who think we should be able to be seen if we turn sideways, not be mistaken for a lightpole.

Janice Seagraves said...

OMG, ten is not fat. I wish I wore a ten.

I think low riders are on their way out, thank God, a long with bell bottoms. Which my daughter adores and is frustrated that she can't find them anymore.


Molly Daniels said...

I've not been a size 10 since the mid-90's! And having moved-ahem-into the 'official' plus sizes (at least for my lower region!), I'm a fan of Land's End jeans:) 3 kids, plus a year of six releases and spending most of that time on my butt in front of the computer, plus eating too much chocolate at Christmas last year took it's toll on me. I keep forgetting my metabolism shut itself off the minute I hit 40!

Sandy said...

Liz, I never got interested in Seinfeld, but I love your gripes. lol

I've shrunk from 5'7 1/2" to 5' 6", and I wear a size 12. At my age, who cares that I used to be able to wear mini dresses and wouldn't be caught dead in one now. lol Skinny jeans don't work either.

laura troxel said...

That was so much fun to read your comments. I love the new book and cant wait to read it.

Keena Kincaid said...

Love your list! I wear my jeans at just below my waist. No muffin top, but no letting the world be my gynecologist either.

And for waiters... I waited tables for years and almost always leave 20% (sometimes more) but I've had such crappy service at some places lately that I wanted to leave nothing. Good for you for having the courage to do it. Of course, the waiter won't take it for what it meant...only assume you're cheap.

Anonymous said...

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this post, Liz!I can't comment on your shopping experience because I loathe shopping and have never been to that skinny-jeans store. Shopping depresses me; seeing clothes I like knowing they look better hanging on a metal rack than they will on my generously proportioned hour-glass figure. Happy holidays to you!

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