Dear Miss Management,
A lovely couple invited me and my husband to dinner. The wife had cooked interesting and tasty dishes. The conversation was so lively that we found ourselves crying with laughter (and no alcohol had been served/consumed). They even gave us a present from their latest trip to their homeland abroad. Shortly thereafter, my hubby and I traveled and returned about 2 weeks later. Another week passed as we settled back into our routine. Suddenly, I realized that I'd not formally thanked her. I feel awful. A failure at hospitality--a value that I dearly prize. But, most importantly, I want to sincerely convey how much I appreciate their generosity and company. Should I send them flowers? Write a belated thank-you? Satisfy myself that my husband's verbal thanks at the tennis courts sufficed?
Mea culpa,
Negligent Guest
Dear NG,
We've all been there. Sadly, though, thinking we're too busy to be grateful just means that we think we're too important (meaning, more important) to be grateful. But don't beat yourself up any more than you have. Write that thank-you note, acknowledging your negligence without excusing it because of your travels, and send it off swiftly. Thereafter, follow it up with the most casually-construed (oxymoron?) return invitation that you can devise. Like movies and coffee/tea afterward at your place. Then move on and shoulder the responsibility for keeping the friendship alive.
And if you find yourself traveling again soon, be sure to bring them back a little treasure.
Best,
Miss Management
Ask Miss Management
Are you irritated by your own or someone else's mismanagement? Tell me why. You know, expressing your irritations will begin the process of diffusing your frustration. So let it out. I'm listening.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Saturday, October 1, 2011
random man hovering over dog and newborn
Dear Miss Management,
Yesterday, I, a grandmother, found myself attending to my newborn granddaughter in her baby stroller, along with the family dog (whom I have serious issues with but respect for his family tolerance to everyone, including me). Inside, my daughter (the mother and dog owner), my husband (the grandfather), and my granddaughter were making their dairy/sugar Baskins Robbins selections. In a matter of seconds, this random man at the only other outside table approaches, takes an instant liking to the dog, and stands mighty close to the stroller. Immediately, I double my hold on the stroller while I listen to him segway from one story to the next as he too closely approaches the stroller amidst his semi-coherent monologue about this being a good place to wait for a bus, Queen Elizabeth, her ugly dogs, her stay at a local hotel in a room right across from the stairs, how this is a good place to wait for the bus, the color of my daughter's dog, his US patriotism, how this is a good place to wait for his bus... With each narrative transition, he moves closer to me and my iron-fist grasp on the stroller.
So that's the scenario that intensified my baby/dog-protective anxieties. Is it OK to just tell these random people to back away? Well, I didn't think so because he seemed harmless, albeit strange and, as I mentioned, very close. But then, my daughter exits the ice cream haven a bit frantic, quickly ushering me, stroller, and dog away, as she informs me that another patron who waitresses at a local restaurant warned her that this random man is a con artist who--no explanation given--conned one of her restaurant customers out of $2000.
Now, I feel like such a fool for giving him the benefit of the doubt.
And, by the way, when I remarried, this daughter called my husband "random man," as in "My mom married some random man."
Best,
Clueless
Dear Clueless,
Next time, go with your gut and get away from the crazy guy--even if you don't have a grandchild or dog in tow.
And good luck with your marriage to "random man."
Best,
Miss Management
Yesterday, I, a grandmother, found myself attending to my newborn granddaughter in her baby stroller, along with the family dog (whom I have serious issues with but respect for his family tolerance to everyone, including me). Inside, my daughter (the mother and dog owner), my husband (the grandfather), and my granddaughter were making their dairy/sugar Baskins Robbins selections. In a matter of seconds, this random man at the only other outside table approaches, takes an instant liking to the dog, and stands mighty close to the stroller. Immediately, I double my hold on the stroller while I listen to him segway from one story to the next as he too closely approaches the stroller amidst his semi-coherent monologue about this being a good place to wait for a bus, Queen Elizabeth, her ugly dogs, her stay at a local hotel in a room right across from the stairs, how this is a good place to wait for the bus, the color of my daughter's dog, his US patriotism, how this is a good place to wait for his bus... With each narrative transition, he moves closer to me and my iron-fist grasp on the stroller.
So that's the scenario that intensified my baby/dog-protective anxieties. Is it OK to just tell these random people to back away? Well, I didn't think so because he seemed harmless, albeit strange and, as I mentioned, very close. But then, my daughter exits the ice cream haven a bit frantic, quickly ushering me, stroller, and dog away, as she informs me that another patron who waitresses at a local restaurant warned her that this random man is a con artist who--no explanation given--conned one of her restaurant customers out of $2000.
Now, I feel like such a fool for giving him the benefit of the doubt.
And, by the way, when I remarried, this daughter called my husband "random man," as in "My mom married some random man."
Best,
Clueless
Dear Clueless,
Next time, go with your gut and get away from the crazy guy--even if you don't have a grandchild or dog in tow.
And good luck with your marriage to "random man."
Best,
Miss Management
Sunday, December 12, 2010
holiday queues without blues
The holiday queues had begun to take their toll on me. Then, my smart phone arrived.
Now, I'm reading the news, listening to blogs, and checking my emails while waiting in line. I learned about wiki-leaks. I heard about journalist linguistics being subsumed by military rhetoric. I read gmails as fast as my BlackBerry-wielding sister could shoot them to me.
This week only...My office building started leaking gas, and we couldn't ignite our car engines to leave. My oral hygienist was 20 minutes behind schedule. I forgot that it was a military payday until I started to check out at WalMart.
But with my new Droid 2, I was armed against frustration. I found my NPR news app, and I was lost in another world.
My disposition has improved. I figure that my blood pressure must be better also. (OK, I admit that my hospitality has suffered. But that's another blog, and blogging entitles us to privilege whichever competing blog we fancy at the time.)
Bless you, smart phone (and my son who set it up for me)!
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