My Mug Shot

One of my Canadian lovelies, Sarah, recently Tweeted that you can tell a lot about a person from looking at their mug collection. Since Sarah is one of the most profound human beings I have ever met…I generally pay attention to her observations. So, naturally, I immediately ran to my cabinet and pulled out my own mug collection, snapped a Tweetpic of it and asked for my very own Sarah-analysis. Of course she replied with something ridiculously flattering, because she loves me…but it got me to thinking and really examining exactly what these mugs do say:

And whether or not the mugs say a lot about my personality, I have to admit, they do say a lot about my life.

First: to the far left, the Angry Bird mug. This mug is not actually mine, it’s Jeff’s, but I bought it. How my little Toronto-based guru knew this, I cannot fathom, but she declared that the mug said I was a “Devoted wife.” She knows me well. I’ve been married to the love of my life for 23 years now…I’ve been with him for almost 28. (God, those NUMBERS!!) Not every one of those years has been bliss, but each year has been worth it. People look their whole lives for what I found very early on…I’m a lucky chick and I know it.

To the far right is a Department of the Army mug. I’ve worked out on a military facility (as a contractor) for going on 15 years now. This job has played a HUGE part of my life. I love my job. I love the people I work with and I love the challenging work that I do. I love feeling like what I do makes a difference to my community, my family, my nation. We destroyed World War II era chemical weapons out here, and we did an awesome job of it. I know that the world is just that much safer with that crap gone, and I love that I had a part in that mission. We’re winding down now…decontaminating the facility and getting it ready for demolition. I’m sad to be working myself out of a job…but still damn proud of what we accomplished out here.

Moving along, the Sock Monkey mug is one of a pair. My daughter bought them for me and my BFF Annette, whom she has called “Aunt Nette” her entire life. Annette is one of those friends that’s as close, if not closer, than family. Anyway, my child saw the pair of mugs one day while out Christmas shopping and decided that they looked like “us.” You know that special friend you have that you can call at 2:00 am and scream, “I need a chainsaw, some Hefty bags, a flashlight and some tequila!” (hypothetically) and her unruffled reply would be, “’Kay! Be right there! You’ve got limes, right?” Well, Annette it that friend for me. I don’t know what I’d do without her. (Probably jail time).


The Queen of Confidence mug was given to me by another close friend of mine. The other side reads:


Confidence


1. Full of belief in one's self and wardrobe. 2. One who can pull off any shade of lipstick and hair color with ease 3. Knowing that all she embarks on will be wonderful 4. Always right in her own mind.


Please note…none of that is actually a description of me AT. ALL. If it were not for ruthless intervention on behalf of my (very stylish) daughter, I would probably be the season finale on “What Not to Wear.” I don’t know where she got it from, but my kiddo has had an eye for what looks great since she was about 12. She’s definitely not a follower either…she’s hates looking like anyone else…but her taste is unerringly fabulous whether she’s picking out an outfit for me or buying herself a new makeup palette. So 1 & 2 don’t really describe me…but perhaps a latent fashionista gene that I passed along?

Maybe #3, a little. I do love to embark on new things. Except Windows 8. I hate that eff-ing software.

As far as #4 “Always right in her own mind”, I’m usually not even sure that I’m in my right mind. What I AM sure of, is that I have awesome friends who see me for my strengths and not my flaws. So, while I may not actually be the “Queen” of Confidence, having friends that think I deserve the title certainly gets me closer.

Finally, the middle mug. This coffee mug is old. My mother made it in a ceramics class in the mid-70s and gave it to my Granny. For my ENTIRE life, I remember seeing my Granny drinking out of this mug at breakfast. (Also? Eating toast off of a Corningware saucer that had the olive-green flower pattern along the edge. I think every household in the United States had at least one dish in this pattern). 

(Ha! Just looked it up…pattern was called “Crazy Daisy”…which for some reason just cracks me up. We just named the new kitten Daisy)

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Granny’s coffee mug. I am the only one who drinks out of this mug…and it is the one that I reach for if it’s clean. It’s my favorite mug for many reasons: the size is JUST right for the large setting on my Keurig + the amount of creamer I like; the wide opening enables the coffee to cool off enough to drink fairly quickly; the glazed ceramic keeps the coffee at just the right temperature long enough for me to enjoy the entire cup of coffee at just the right pace. But most importantly, the coffee cup reminds me that I am special. Let me explain. I have a LOT of people in my life that love me. I am SO lucky at the fantastic family and friends that I have that think the world of me. My husband loves me. My parents are proud of me. My daughter (even at the age of 17) thinks that I am someone to help her with her worries and concerns. My friends love me and even without the ties of marriage or blood seek me out to be a part of their lives. But no one, NO ONE, has ever loved me like my Granny. My Granny thought I was perfect. Period. All of the wonderful people in my life love me despite my flaws. My grandmother believed that I had none. She thought that I was the prettiest, smartest, kindest, funniest person to ever grace this planet, and if YOU couldn't see that, you were either ignorant or blind. She would not hear one word against me, ever. She would vehemently deny any flaw that anyone might try to point out regarding my behavior. I could have axe-murdered a busload of nuns and my Granny would have found some way to justify why I’d done it. Her opinion of me was, of course, a far cry from the truth…but her belief in me gave me the cornerstone for a rock-steady belief in myself that has served me well my entire life and seen me through some absolute shit-storms that have come my way. I think that EVERYONE needs someone in their lives that love them in this way…who see them as better and more perfect than they actually are…who is their steadfast champion. God, I miss her.

P.S. The only thing that the KFC cup over by the sink is saying is that I fell prey to their “I ate the bones!” commercials. First time I’ve had KFC in freaking years, I swear.