Hi I’m Marla.  Gimme a Minute I wanna talk to you about Superstitions.

I’m recording this minute on Friday the 13^th. Today is a day, or a date I should say, that freaks out a lot of people.  As equally bad if not worse than walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror or opening an umbrella indoors.

But did you know that hearing an owl hoot, three times, fixing a button on a shirt while you’re wearing it, or signing a contract in April, July or November are also bad luck? News to me.

There are many superstitions that have to do with theatre too.  We all know you never say good luck, and never mention the Scottish play backstage. Did you know not to whistle in the dressing room?  This started because before the age of walkie talkies and intercoms, the director would often whistle for scene changes. Any actor whistling backstage could cause a scene change.

If somebody does do any of the theatre curses, they’re supposed to leave the room, or the building, spin around three times and then knock on the door and ask for permission to come back in. And did you know that it’s good luck if you get lipstick on your teeth.

But the best theater superstition is this one.  If you notice a loose thread on another person’s clothes, you’re supposed to take the thread, spin it around your head three times and then tuck it down the neck of your shirt for good luck.

Seriously, come here….

I’m Marla, thanks for listening, see ya.

Hi. I’m Marla.  Gimme a Minute.  I wanna talk to you about when you can’t say no, and when you can. 

This is very helpful if you’re the kind of person who never says no, and finds there aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything you said yes to.  Of course, you can’t say no to your employer very often, unless it’s a response to the question, “you wanna find a job somewhere else?”  So when asked a question starting with , “will you, would you, can you, could you?” and the person asking does not have the power to hire or fire you, remember, you have the “no” option.

There are times you can’t say no, like when your kid asks you to help get a big splinter out of their finger.  But what about when your neighbor asks if you can help them pack for their move and you can’t think of anything you would rather do less.

Basically, consider if you have the desire to do what the person is asking, and then, consider if you have the time.  If the answer to either one of those questions is “yes,” then before you answer, ask yourself again.  Do you really really want to do what the asker is asking?  Do you really really have the time?

Life is too short to do all the stuff you don’t want to do, much less the things you have to do.

Ok,  I’ve gotta go help a friend pack some moving boxes.  Thanks for listening.  See ya.

Hi. I’m Marla. Gimme a minute to talk about Gay Marriage. I’ve said in the past that I wasn’t ever going to get political, but I can’t sit back anymore and listen to the BS being spewed by so-called “family values” politicians.

Enough already.

As if Gregory and Rick getting married would really make Brittany think twice?  As if Bonnie and Ellen getting married would keep Arnold’s pants on.  As if the brilliant and beautiful children raised by the constant love and devotion of PJ and Leslie and Crystal and Peg would have had a better life if they’d been raised born into the family of all those Duggars.  As if.  Ok, so maybe it’s not fair to pit my sane, grounded gay friends against the crazy straight celebrities we hear about in the news every day….. how about the fact that straight America is headed to a 50% divorce rate?  It’s true, Kelly and Rosie got divorced, and left all those kids and they’re gay.  But so did Jon and Kate and, not gay.

The fact is, until Gay marriage includes federal and medical benefits and equal protections, we will always be equal but separate.

Don’t you think it’s about time that our homosexual friends get to enjoy the ups and downs and stresses of traditional marriage?

If you’re offended by my opinion, you are certainly entitled to yours, but really As if any other marriage would have any impact on yours.  Don’t you have a hard enough time just minding your own business?

I’m Marla.  Thanks for Listening.  See Ya.

p.s.  http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/key-washington-state-senate-gay-marriage-vote-set-for-wednesday/2012/02/01/gIQALnI6gQ_story.html

I <3 28 WASHINGTON SENATORS!!

Hi. I’m Marla.  Gimme a minute to talk to you about a personal tradition.

Gearing up for the bicentennial, in 1975, store shelves were jam-packed with products colored to reflect and honor old glory. In 1975 I was still in high school, and wore as much of the colors of the flag as I could muster.  My wardrobe essential was a leather purse, dyed red and blue stripes with white stars.  It was trendy.  Ok, I thought it was.

Years later, an old friend from my high school days teased me about that purse.  I looked for and found it buried in the bottom of a forgotten box at my parent’s house.

Guess what she got for her very next birthday?

Years later, my friend gave the purse back to me as a wedding gift.  Shortly after that, she received it as a housewarming gift.  I got it back as a baby gift for my daughter, and she got it back when her daughter was born.  It’s been many years since that last passing of the gift.

This year, when the purse arrived in the mail, I’ll admit I got a little choked up.

There’s been a whole lot of history since this purse first made its way into my life. Both of us have lost both our parents, our daughters are grown, and hopefully, we have much better style since then.

But this purse is more than a purse….

It’s a hug.

I love you Jules.

Thanks for listening.  See ya.

Hi I’m Marla.  Gimme a Minute.  This is my 100^th Minute.  I know, pretty amazing, right? I look back on that first day I sat in this studio, and I think, what the hell was I thinking?  So now. 100 minutes later, I thought I’d take a minute to review.

I’ve done Minutes specifically about Facebook and ways to protect yourself on the internet from viruses and stalkers.  I’ve talked about People in General, People being polite, people being rude.  I’ve ranted about things I hate like cilantro, Karaoke and Reality TV, and raved about things I love like my friends and my family.

I’ve done Promotional Minutes for non-profits and small businesses like Northwest Youth Services, Nooksack Salmon Enhancement, Be the Match, Tracey Spring and wristrocks.   I’ve Mentioned Animals and Californians.  I’ve talked about retail therapy, customer service, and shopping in general.

I’ve talked a lot about food, and chocolate and coffee, eating and dieting, Dating, Breaking up and Rumors.

I’ve talked about what words mean, and played with words in Tongue twisters and Acronyms.  I’ve defined Bellebrities, the difference between movies and films, and road trips.

I’ve reported on my hair woes twice, my procrastination issues once.

I’ve talked about what I won’t talk about. Discussed quitting a job, finding a job, Holidays like New Years, Fourth of July, and everyone’s favorite holiday, their birthday.  I even once spent a whole minute talking about Nothing.

And after all that, I just have to  say, thanks for listening.  I’m Marla.  See ya.

Hi.  I’m Marla. Gimme a Minute.  I wanna talk to you about my name.  Marla.  Not Maria.  My name is Mar La. I think some people must be lazy readers or something.

I get junk mail, and email directed to Maria. I’m pretty sure I did not accidentally spell my first name with an “I”.  It’s an “L” people!!  Now I know some lovely women named Maria, so it’s not the name that makes me nuts, it’s just that my name is Marla.

When I answer the phone at work I say…. Hi this is Marla can I help you? .. I know it’s quick, but it’s friendly right? About half the time, the response I get starts off “yes Monica I need blah blah blah.”  And I say blah blah blah because once they’ve called me Monica, I’ve pretty much stopped listening.

My name is Marla. I have a few friends named Anndrea.  And, a couple who go by Onndrea. I have at least two friends named AnnDraya.  And one who calls herself OnnDraya.

This is way more confusing.  I’m sure it’s frustrating to them when I mispronounce their name.  And it’s not that I’m not paying attention, I just forget which is which…Anndrea, Onndrea, Anndraya or Onndraya.

It’s to the point where I try to be the second person in the room to use their name.  Then I watch my friend’s face for the p-o-ed..you-got-my-name-wrong flinch.  ….Seriously….if you spelled them differently, it might help.

Hey, I know….spell it with an “I” …

My name is Marla.  Thanks for listening.  See ya.

I was in my 30’s, the offender was some punk kid in his late teens or early 20’s at my local grocery store.  I about smacked him. Then I remembered this was that very same store where a few years earlier, I had tried to buy a bottle of wine but didn’t have my ID on me, and they wouldn’t sell it to me.  I remembered being pissed then too.  I realized I can’t have it both ways.  So  I thought to myself, he’s young, he’ll learn.

Shortly after that I went to a local bar with two girlfriends.  We were all about the same age.  They got carded, I did not.

That’s when I knew I was in trouble.  I started coloring my hair.  Wearing clothes that made me look more trendy and less trustworthy.  Like bad girls are younger or something. 

After years of trying to pull off the façade of not aging, I finally gave up.  Yes, I still color my hair, but I try to dress my age and act it as well. 

Just recently, a young-ish waiter at a nice restaurant seated me, and as he handed me the menu, he said, “would you like a beverage miss?” 

MISS? 

Are you freaking kidding me?  I’ve earned every one of these wrinkles buddy, It’s Ma’am to you. 
I’m Marla.  Thanks for listening, see ya.

Hi. I’m Marla. Gimme a Minute.  I wanna talk to you and it will just take 60 seconds.  Isn’t it interesting how I’m able to come up with some random thing every week for 60 seconds?  And there are so many kinds of seconds.  I could come up with about 60 if I had another 60 seconds.  I could talk about second helpings, or the logistics of second cousins.  In a political or foot race, there’s always a second place winner.  There was the Second World War, which happened when, according to my kids, I was in the second grade.  Which, coincidentally, is when the concept of the second shooter came into play.  From there, it’s a short leap to the second amendment.  It makes my head spin.  Hang on, I think I’m getting my second wind.

Growing up I never accepted second hand clothes, or sloppy seconds from my girlfriends’ ex boyfriends, who are, by now, most likely, on their second marriage, at least.

As a teen, I was relegated to being a second soprano.  Not that I was ever second rate.  Even so, I would never second guess the choral conductor.

Being a victim of second child syndrome, I still think of myself as second to none.  Did I hear a second on that motion to move on?

I could have done this entire Minute in the second person, but then it would have been all about you, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?  No, not for a second.  I’m Marla.  Thanks for listening.  See Ya.

I’m talking about getting “let go” when the employer perceives some random flaw you exhibit.  …. None of this….we’re so sorry, but it’s just not working out.
I’m talking Fired.

Get out.

Give me your key right now, clean out your desk.

If you’ve never been fired, I’m here to tell you that being fired is survivable, and in some instances, enjoyable.

The first time I was fired, it was for insubordination.  It’s ok.  I deserved it.  My boss was an ass, but he was still my boss.

The second time I was fired it was because I was too depressed about my ex-boyfriend dumping me to do my job.  It’s ok.  I deserved it.  My ex was an ass.

The third time?   it was really unclear to me why I was fired because I had just gotten a  good performance review.  Maybe it was because I let it be known I thought the managing partner was an ass.

The most recent firing came as the result of a bad health year….being sick sucks ass.

I never planned to get fired, but I will tell you, if you ever qualify for unemployment benefits, go for it.

Don’t be an ass.

I’m Marla.  Thanks for listening.  See ya.

And when they come back.  It doesn’t matter if they’ve been gone a week, a month, a semester or a whole year, tell me if this happens to you.

They walk in the door, drop their bags of dirty laundry and kick off their shoes, go right to the refrigerator or pantry, grab something to munch on, and plop themselves down in front of the TV to watch something loud and obnoxious.

Or maybe they don’t, and five minutes after they’ve walked in the door, they ask if there’s gas in the car, grab the extra set of keys, and they’re gone to who knows where, until who knows when, eating who knows what until they return to raid the refrigerator.

If you’re lucky, they might return before midnight, safe in the confines of your four walls, for at least one night.

And when the visit is over, and they return to the life they have left you for, your house heaves a sigh of something just this side of relief.  The room where they slept, not their room, because, well, they’ve chosen to live somewhere else, but the room where your guest has most recently slept (and I use that term loosely…as they no longer sleep, they crash)  has suffered an upheaval of order.

And so, you may wonder, where is the maid service for this hotel.

Look in the mirror mom or dad.  You are it.

I’m Marla.  Thanks for Listening.  See Ya.