This week we loyal viewers of Flipping Out on Bravo watched the final episode of the season. Thef very Bravo-ish custom of having a reunion show after a reality show has ended. And after watching this, I’m convinced Jeff Lewis in my opinion, is a total asshole.

It seems most of America is amuzed at his apparent OCD. I’m not so sure it really is OCD. I think it’s more like Passive-Aggression and Aggression. The man acts like a tyrant in his home, which he pretentiously refers to as “this office”. hahaha… give me a break!

A drama queen with money to employ people- and that’s what this jerk off needs to survive emotionally. If he didn’t have money- he couldn’t have employees and then he’d have no one to dictate how many seconds they are allowed to have to go to the bathroom.

Here’s the sick dysfunction of it, truly. And this is what his employees do not realize. He uses his power to divide and conquer. At the Pollo Loco lunchtable he is shown picking on one scapegoat at a time. The other employees always join in to gain his approval. The scapegoat either winds up in tears, defeat or submission. If they don’t, they are fired or quitting by the end of the episode.

In this way, Jeff Lewis culls his herd so that his only employees are approval seeking- either for emotional needs or financial needs. One day, I’d like to see Zoila the housekeeper really tell him what she has long ago sized him up to be. But she will not- because she gets bribes to participate in the game- like watching soaps while on the clock.

Meanwhile, we are supposed to feel sorry for the long suffering Jenny the Assistant, the shrinking violet with the squeaky little girl voice, (no mistake there). Women who speak like little girls really irritate me… she clearly pleases him by making sure she remains submissive and meek, and only taking 50 seconds to pee.

Look, is the California Department of Labor watching this show? Has anyone informed the Jeff Lewis Office that regulations involve mandatory break times? Has he ever heard the term hostile work environment?

Jenny, (resembling a cutesty anorexic Shirley Temple), sometimes breaks into a fake alter ego, Deb. It’s all in jest really- as Deb is a trash mouthed lesbian who pulls no punches- something Jenny could never be and someone who could never be employed by Jeff Lewis.

If there is a fourth season, I don’t think I can bear to watch it. Unless it would involve one of his employees suing him.

I hit bottom with the hand sanitizer last night. I had been to Big Box Conglomerate SuperStore and used the disinfecting wipes on the cart handle. Then I used hand sanitizer in the produce department. Later, looking through the Pet Supplies, I noticed someone opened a big jug of hand sanitizer and left it sitting on a shelf of dog food. It was already empty. What the hell, I hadn’t sanitized for over 15 minutes in a public place. I felt the urge tugging at me. I felt the virus crawling on my fingers. I did the hand sanitizer! The pirated hand sanitizer.

Then, I went through the checkout and had to do it again. Then in my car. Then once I got in the door, I washed my hands with Dial soap singing happy birthday and then sanitized them again.. all so that I could scratch the corner of my damn eye, finally, scratch it. Sigh!

I sat down on the couch with my book and wondered if I set it down anywhere today where the virus could have got on it. I thought about the Lysol spray. But as I sat there, I realized my frigging hands were stinging with dryness. Chapped by repeated dousings with alcohol. Fuck it, I thought. I should just get the damn flu and get over it so I can stop this compulsion.

You know, like the Chicken Pox parties of days gone by?

Listen- here’s our reality. We aren’t panicked about it. But we really don’t know why some kids die from it. I have a teenager. I’m also on a lot of vascular medicines, and I don’t know if I would be susceptible to complications or not. I mean, probably NOT! But it’s on every damn news broadcast and talk show and article and it’s never ending.

Why can’t we just get the FRIGGING IMMUNIZATIONS? I heard on the news yesterday that while one city ran out and only could immunize half of the line of patients, another city on the West coast didn’t even use half of their supply. Nurses stood out on the curb with signs offered the free shot. That clinic is expecting yet another delivery of vaccine this week.

Here in Niagara County, it is not available to us yet. I called our Health department and listened to a recording saying that limited supply has just arrived. And yet NO i mean ZERO information on where to go to get the shot. It’s only available to “Priority Groups”- for which my sons qualifies being under age 24.

So tomorrow, I’ll start calling around… but my opinion is that it is too fucking difficult to get the immunization. And the sanitizer compulsion is beginning to take over my mind.

UPDATE: 10.28 I called my doctor’s office and the nurse informed me that they haven’t been offered any vaccine yet with no idea when it will come. In fact, she cannot even get access to getting vaccinated herself and she’s been treating people with flu like illness.

UPDATE: 11.05 I visited the doctor’s office both in Niagara Falls and Amherst where we are seen. Neither office has seen any vaccine. The Niagara Co health department is reporting that small amounts of vaccine are released for high risk groups- but will give NO INFORMATION about how or where to get it. I have been told all of the nursing and medical staff at the hospital have received their vaccines- by a nurse at the doctor’s office in NF.

Yay! I planted my only bulbs for this Falls. Three LARGE Allium- Purple Sensation. I have purchased many fall bulbs and have never actually planted them. Maybe I did once or twice but they were dug up by animals.

This year, I went small, buying just 3 bulbs and planting them in a corner of a front flower bed. (North facing- rare to get sun except on one corner.) I then put half of my rock collection on top of them so that the black squirrels couldn’t dig them back up. In Spring, I’ll dig out some snow over there and remove the rocks so that the bulbs can grow. Maybe like April.

I’m not sure. Perhaps this year we’ll call it a malcontentment. That’s not really a word. But that’s what I’m calling it. Sitting here at my worktable I hear the windchimes banging constantly against each other, with only a diffuse grey light coming through the window at high noon. I look out and the wind is blowing strongly the brilliant orange and yellow trees- leaves raining down all around like a Winnie The Pooh cartoon. Everything is wet and standing puddles reflect this year’s constant drizzle.

It’s interesting- each Fall seems to have it’s own personality. 2009 seems to be one of most spectacular colors, but a fast cool down from summer with plunging temps and an early snow- not to mention days upon days of rain showers. This year Fall isn’t as all-out emotionally destructive as usual. Maybe it’s because my life has some real problems of it’s own, so I’m not brooding over the loss of summer freedoms.

No- this year I’m dealing with multiple issues but I’m going to pull them all together into a big circle and call it DETACHMENT. For the good- for the bad- I don’t understand yet.

My twenty year old daughter has clipped several more substantial apron strings this year. She is living off campus for the first time and is experiencing independence like never before. Add to that her development of new adult relationships and the exploration of graduate school far from home and she’s down right pulling away from the nest. It is, after all, what she is supposed to do. It’s what I fed, clothed and sheltered her for.

But this mom has little pains of sadness when cell phone calls aren’t answered or returned. Or I am told she is busy and will talk to me later, or the next day. What did I want? Oh- nothing- you’re busy? Oh- nothing really… I just called to say hi. What? Okay honey, have a fun time and be safe. Love you. Bye.

Then there’s the 16 year old. Somebody stole my baby bear and replaced him with a man in a bedroom who dislikes me, plays video games and texts a girl all day. Oh this one hurts really bad like a fresh and unexpected wound. I did not see this one coming. I thought I still had a couple of years. But, deep breathe, nope- it happened. The struggle for independence, most of all, individuality, dignity and respect is taking a toll on him and me. Yelling, swearing, drama punctuate prolonged days of no communication. I’m not yet sure how to relate to this man and I’m resenting the fact that he took my little boy hostage. It’s going to be a tough tough thing for me. It’s my last hold on the nest. I feel like- if he flies away the nest falls apart.

Oh- motherhood, hormones and emotions! Tears are streaming down my face with self-deprecating laughter and self-pity as I write this!

And so I am experiencing all of this while the autumn nesting instinct begins to take hold. Time to put up the storm windows, bring in the lawn furniture, button up the nest for winter. Just when I’m questioning the integrity of my nest.

I’m doing the steps of Fall. I made the apple pie. I put up Halloween decorations. Gave up my sandles. Bought a new jacket.

As I watch the leaves fall, I remind myself they are very important fertilizer for the next Spring, the new beginning, the next chapter of life.

As a mother of a 20 year old and 16 year old, the “changing times” I refer to are not about the economy, or safety, or society. They are about changes in our family. The 20 year old isn’t home for Halloween, she’s off at her university doing things I’m afraid to find out about. The 16 year old is in high school and really too cool for us. He is planning to spend Halloween with a friend at their house.

Nobody is willing to take Iris out trick or treating anymore. The kids did it for as long as they could get away with it- but even they’ve hit their trick or treat ceiling. So I’m going to have to take a woman in her 40’s trick or treating. She refuses to quit. I will disguise myself heavily in shame.



Also, the kids don’t care about our Halloween decorations anymore. Not a bit! So, Iris and I are finding it hard to justify the all-out spectacle of pumpkins, fake dead people, plastic skulls, voodoo dolls, nylon spider web, sound effects and fog machine. We are doing it for the kids, right? Right???

So, this year, we put up the decorations but not quite all of them. We look at them slightly differently. A remnant of days past maybe- feeling a little sorry for ourselves- or maybe just getting old. Iris contemplates staying home to hand out candy. Sigh.

Autumn has arrived in Niagara Falls!

“Rattles”

Taken at empty lot of closed farm market at intersection of Military & Lockport Rds, Town of Niagara, New York. I’d love to know the story behind the name which is fading off.

This film was released in the US in 2008 and I recently found it at my local library. Beautifully shot in France, it stars Nicolas Cazale as a 30 year old man who is somewhat estranged from his parents. But as a result of his father’s health issues, he agrees to return to their small town in Provence and work at the small grocery market which they own.

This is where it turned fantasy for me: a beautiful little town in France, set in summertime in the rolling hills. Gorgeous residential architecture and quirky character abound… with the main theme being the mobile grocery store on wheels which is run from a truck.

Part love story, part dysfunctional family story- it all hinges on the main character’s acceptance of his feelings toward himself and those around him. It’s woven through grassy hills, farms and rural villages… small town French beauty shop, gorgeous girlfriend, ubiquitous European mother figure… and of course, plenty of bread and cheese.

Just the summer fantasy I needed to take me away from the now settling Fall.

The plot was subtle- gentle and intriguing. The beauty of the scenery and the carefree lifestyle of rural Europe were just the cure and little escape I needed. I recommend this film!