Tazi's Corner # 64 - Celebrate "Movember"!

Dear Readers:

It’sNo Shave November or, as the Aussie' s call it, Movember! It's time for dudes to show their support for men's health and let those mustaches and beards grow! (Personally, I have always wondered why men shave their facial fur, but not the rest of their fur!). 

For more information, go to www.us.movember.com. Or, just read on...I have pulled all of the following info directly from their website:

As an official global charity, Movember’s vision is to have an everlasting impact on the face of men’s health. During November each year, Movember is responsible for the sprouting of millions of moustaches on men's faces around the world. Through the power of the Mo, vital funds and awareness are raised to combat prostate and testicular cancer and mental health challenges.

HOW IT WORKS
Movember encourages men to join the movement by growing a moustache for the 30-days of November. After REGISTERING on Movember.com, these generous Mo Bros start the month clean-shaven, then grow and groom their Mo (slang for moustache), asking friends and family to donate to their efforts. With their new moustaches, these Mo Bros bring much needed awareness to men’s health issues by prompting conversations wherever they go...

The Movember Effect
Globally, the funds raised support world-class men’s health programs that combat prostate and testicular cancer and mental health challenges. These programs, directed by the Movember Foundation, are focused on awareness and education, living with and beyond cancer, staying mentally healthy, living with and beyond mental illness and research to achieve our vision of an everlasting impact on the face of men’s health.

Movember - a global movement
Since its humble beginnings in 2003 in Melbourne, Australia, Movember has grown to become a truly global movement inspiring more than 3 Million Mo Bros and Mo Sistas to participate across 21 countries worldwide. Movember is also aware of Mo Bros and Mo Sistas supporting the campaign and men’s health causes in other parts of the world, from Moscow to Rio de Janeiro, and everywhere in between.

In 2012, over 1.1 million Mo Bros and Mo Sistas around the world joined the movement, raising USD $147.0 million. In the US, over 209,000 Mo’s raised $21.0 million.

Tazi, again! Ladies, you can join the movement in one of two ways: 1) Get your man to participate and help him to raise funds for the cause or 2) Stop waxing your facial hair and grow your own 'stache!

If you don't have a dude in your life (partner, father, brother, friend) and can't (or just can't bring yourself to) grow your own, you can participate by not shaving your legs and collecting donations towards the Movember Movement! Let's make a difference!!

Snuggles,
Tazi

P.S. Movember needs a corporate sponsor! Would Schick or Gillette be willing to be the Official Sponsor of Movember? You know it's going to take a good razor to tame those tough beards come December!


Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #80 - It's A Jungle Out There!

Dear Readers,

This week I was mellowing out to Jethro Tull when "Bungle In The Jungle" started to play and I awoke with a snort. Jungle? Isn't that what we now call a tropical rain forest? It is, in fact, what we now call a tropical rain forest, but "Let's bungle in the tropical rain forest, well that's alright by me..." doesn't quite have the same groove to it. Of course, I think we can all agree that "rain forest" sounds much more sophisticated than "jungle". This is why we use it, isn't it? Aside from scientists and Greenpeace, nobody gave a hoot about the deforestation of the jungles until the more glamorous sounding "rain forest" came into popular use, and it has to be a tropical rain forest to sound trendy; tell most people that you live in the rain forests of the Pacific Northwest and they will look at you like you have three heads, and maybe even argue that rain forests are tropical (which is not true - there are, by scientific definition if not the popular one, temperate rain forests, too). This got me thinking about what else would lose it's charm, it's power, it's essential meaning if we set aside this simple word that sufficed for generations and used the popular eco-snobbery term that has taken hold.

Disney released The Jungle Book on Blu-Ray for the first time this week  [Ed. Note: SWEET!], a movie based upon All The Mowgli Stories by Rudyard Kipling and known to millions for generations. How silly would it be to update the title to The Rain Forest Book? Would some of the jungle magic that fascinates children and adults alike be lost? Speaking of jungle magic, the children's book turned movie Jumanji got its very name from those two root words. That's right, jumanji is not a Swahili or Afrikaans word at all; it is a made up word that was created by the author by recombining the letters of jungle and magic (and then getting a little creative, changing the "g" in magic to a second "j" to cleverly hide this fact). How exactly would rain forest and magic combine? Rainmanji? Do Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise star in the movie version? Or maybe Forestgumji? Is that too much of a stretch?

While on the subject of books that were turned into movies, I don't want to forget The Blackboard Jungle, a film that depicts the raw edges of life in the inner city (or ghettos, to use the tried and true word, lest I fall victim to my own accusations of snobbery). Times have changes since this movie was released in the 1950's and America's urban schools have gotten worse, not better. Which do you think best depicts the imagery of the violence that has besieged our young people? For me, The Blackboard Rain Forest doesn't make the cut.

For the open-minded/daring intellectual, we have Rita Mae Brown's  critically acclaimed 1973 novel Rubyfruit Jungle (upon which the 1985 short Me & Rubyfruit was loosely based). [Ed. Note: This one is not suitable for children!]. While Rubyfruit Rain Forest does have a nice ring to it due to its use of consonance, the word jungle maintains the sense of mystery and even fear that surrounds the themes of coming of age, sexual discovery, and coming out in an unforgiving world.

No reference to the jungle would be complete without mention of journalist Upton Sinclair's muckraking feat, The Jungle. While some would argue that it is a propaganda for the switch to socialism, none can argue against it's effect on the United States meat-packing industry and the effect it had on how it is run - specifically, this one work is responsible for the founding of what became the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (the FDA, formerly known as the Bureau of Chemistry). But...what if Sinclair had titled his book The Rain Forest? How laughably and pitifully tame that sounds in comparison to the raw energy the title The Jungle evokes!

Nowadays, the word jungle is all but forgotten by a new generation who have never learned the difference between a tropical and temperate rain forest; who have never heard of a rain forest being called anything but a rain forest. However, these are those of us who remember and praise the power of this humbled word. As for me, I will continue to praise the power of the jungle by refusing to let its name fall out of use.

Snuggles,
Tazi

P.S. Rain Forest Fever? Is that Spike Lee I hear weeping?


Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #58 - In Praise Of Autumn

Dear Readers:

Today I am a sad kitty. Summer is officially over this week and autumn is here, which means my long naps in the summer sun are also at an end for another year and (since I live in New England) that dastardly white stuff that falls from the sky will soon be making its annual appearance! I decided to ask myself for some advice, since everyone tells me I give the best, and I told myself to make a list of all of the good things about autumn, like:

Hiding in the fallen leaves.

Surely nobody can find me in here, right?

My brother Koko always was better at hide 'n' seek

The smell of apple and spice scented candles. My Mommie single-handedly keeps Yankee Candle in business with the number of candles she buys, and each season must have its own scents. She finally managed to work her way through the summer scents – summer berries, ocean scents, and coconut oil – and has moved on to apples and spice, blackberry tart, and pumpkin.

Beer tastings. New England is home to several microbreweries, all with various seasonal ales – from Sam Adams Oktoberfest to the Woodstock Station’s Harvest Brew. Unlike the ubiquitous light, citrus-infused summer brews that flooded the marker this past season (Bud Lime-A-Rita, anyone?) autumn brews have a heavier and heartier flavor that leave even the uninitiated understanding why some people drink beer because they like the taste. From Newport, Rhode Island’s Newport Storm to Portsmouth, New Hampshire’s Smuttynose I can look forward to watching my loved ones (and my cousin, Rocky the boxer dog) enjoying a cold, crisp one. ( am a teetotaler!).

Hiking trails. Hiking is hard work that makes you humans sweat, so I can see why most of you avoid it during the heavy heat of the summer, but that sweat makes autumn the perfect time to explore the hiking trails in your area. I plan of sneaking off to work with my Mommie and exploring the trails of her state park, where plentiful bunches of wild grapes grow; apple trees offer their fruit for the plucking; and butterflies flit merrily back and forth across your path. I will leave the heavy hiking in the Berkshires to her and Daddy, although I might join them for a ghost tour through Haunted Providence or even Colonial Boston, so long as someone carries me the entire time! Cobblestone streets do not agree with my tender paws. 

Blankets, blankets, blankets (oh, and sweaters)! Who doesn’t love a soft, cuddly blanket? I have several placed around the house in my “Tazi spots” – under the end table, on the bed, behind the reclining chair... – but they are just too warm to snuggle into when the weather is hot! Now that autumn is here, I am ready for them! As far as I am concerned, a sweater is simply a wearable blanket!

Just please don’t make me wear one!

Halloween and Thanksgiving. Two holidays centered on food. How can you beat that?

What are some of your favorite things about autumn? Share them in the Comments section or tweet them @TaziKat! I really do want to know, so I can make my autumn the best that it can be!

Snuggles,

Tazi

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #63 - In Memory And Praise Of Grandparents

Dear Readers:

The loss of a grandparent is never easy, but when we are children those losses are easier to take; we have not had enough time to get to know our grandparents as full and real people; they are just our grandparents, those old people that always seem to have time for us when Mom and Dad don’t. Many of us who lost our grandparents when we were very young only come to realize their importance in our lives after we have children of our own and see them frolicking with our parents, their grandparents. As my own Mommie said as she eulogized her Grandpa, “as children, we have more respect for our grandparents because unlike our parents, grandparents have always been old, so we don’t know how much time we are going to have with them; to a child, a grandparent could go at any time, so we appreciate them more”.

It was nineteen years ago this month that my Mommie lost her maternal Grandma to a valiant battle with breast cancer. This week would have been her birthday, so I am printing an essay she wrote that first year without her Grandma (because her Grandma was a cat person, God bless her soul!). Almost twenty years later, the words still ring true.

Snuggles,

Tazi

 In Memory of Bridget Jenny (Winiarski) Dybala 

October 30, 1921 -August 16, 1995 

My grandmother, Birdie (Winiarski) Dybala was a woman of many talents. No, she never performed a triple lutz for the Olympic gold, never hit a game-winning home run, or ran for a touchdown in the final seconds of overtime...she was not a great orator, a famous movie star, or even a career woman. Nor did she make millions of dollars designing clothes, founding a dot-com, or publishing a popular magazine that tells women they aren't good enough as they are. Her talents were much more valuable to society than any of that. She was a homemaker - a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a grandmother...and a friend. And she excelled at all she did.

As a wife Birdie took care of her husband, making sure that his house was well tended, his children well raised, and his good name enhanced by her actions. As a mother, she raised her four children by example, bringing them up to be upstanding members of society. She gave then wings to fly, and kept a nest for them to call home. Birdie Dybala was many things to many people, but it is as a grandmother that I knew her best.

Growing up, I spent as much time at my Grandma's house as I did at my own - or at least it felt that way. Sunny days were spent running through what seemed like (and probably was) acres of backyard, playing by the brook and the frog pond, picking wild blueberries, watching the neighbors tend their beehives, and walking through the woods to "the mucky river", a sewage drop off that was owned by the city and abutted her land. For some reason, the site that was this dumping ground fascinated me as only a child could be fascinated by that which society deems garbage.

On summer days, when the city pool was open, my brother and our best friends would go to swim, and then run around the corner to Grandma's house for lunch - there were no kids our age in Grandma's neighborhood, so she didn't mind when we "imported" them from our own. Nor did she mind when my younger cousins and I chased Frosty, her cat, under the couch in our attempts to cuddle him - but she never yelled at Frosty, either, for scratching us in self-defense. Although her grandchildren could do no wrong, she was a firm believer in personal responsibility. It is a lesson that sticks with me to this day...and makes me wish that my Grandma could have influenced more people than just those of her surrounding circle.

This is how I best remember Frosty!

I remember holidays at Grandma's house - every Easter, my cousin "M." used to try and "jump the brook" - a ribbon of water only three feet wide, but the Grand Canyon of my hometown to a young, mischievous child. Inevitably, he would fall into the water, shoes and all...but Grandma never got angry with him for messing up his good clothes. She believed that when a parent was around, discipline was their job - and that it was a Grandma's job to make everything all better. And she always did.

No matter what the problem, my grandmother always knew how to fix it (and the solution generally involved a bowl of her famous home-made chicken soup!). Seriously, though...sometimes, she would tell us what we wanted to hear, knowing that the problem was one that would solve itself in time; other times, she told us what we needed to hear. The Wisdom of Solomon she did posses, but never did she give unsolicited advice. She knew if she was patient, we would eventually confide in her. After all, she was Grandma! And boy, weren't we surprised to find out she knew things we thought were a "secret".

As I grew older, I became the stereotypical sullen teenager - with everyone, even Grandma. The only difference was, with her I felt guilty about it and worked to change my attitude...because never once did Grandma lose her temper with me; never once did she walk away to give me some "alone time"; never once did she make me feel like I had done something wrong when my fluctuating hormones were in fact to blame. In fact, she did just the opposite - she worked harder to be supportive and understanding of me. And anyone who has ever been or has ever known a 13-year old girl knows how downright impossible that can be to even try, let alone accomplish! But Grandma did it! Not only with me, but also with all her other grandchildren!

Grandma also indulged my child-like side, taking me to see Disney movies that I was "too old" to go see with my friends (it just wasn't "cool"!)...and she would let me publicly blame her for "dragging me to see them" when my friends caught me enjoying it!

Whenever I needed a ride to or from an after-school activity, it was Grandma who was there to chauffeur me; whenever it rained (or was even cloudy for that matter) it was Grandma who helped me with my paper-route; and when I decided 5 days before my 9th grade formal that I wanted to go after all, it was Grandma who helped Mom to sew my dress, and got it completed on time for the big night.

After I learned to drive, I made sure to visit Grandma frequently, as I missed my after-school time with her. She always made my teenage angst seem minimal. I always felt safe when I was with Grandma, like no hurt could ever touch me - not my parents divorce, not missing out on the lead in the school play because I was too young, not the heartbreak of the boy I liked turning me down for my senior prom...

My Grandma had a way of making everyone she came in contact with feel special. I still remember the time, when I was about four years old, that I complained I was too young to ever get mail. She started saving all the junk mail that came to her house. If it was addressed to "Occupant" or "Resident" it was mine!

By high school, though, I was starting to receive mail of my own in the form of college catalogs - more than I could handle, and in more ways than one. Did I leave my home to move across the country? Would my grades be good enough to get into my top choice school? How was I going to pay for it all? Grandma's responses were, "No", "Yes", and "Don't worry about it". Had my Guidance Counselor said all that, I would have given him a withering look...but when Grandma said it, I could tell she meant it. I think it was her sincerity that was so comforting to me - and during the first few weeks of my freshman year, when I caught sick with meningitis, I learned that no matter what the distance, Grandma would be there to take care of me when I needed her. It comforts me that I was able to return the kindness a few years later, when she took sick with the cancer that eventually took her from my family and me.

Grandma died before she could see me walk across the stage to receive my (first) degree, but I know she was there in spirit as well as in my heart. It was always her dream for me to complete my schooling and to follow my dreams - wherever they led me, as long as they didn't lead me too far from my family...or from her. And I am proud to say that she is with me even more now than she was back then.

My Grandma raised me according to her values - which, when I was young I found to be hopelessly old-fashioned. Now, as an adult, I don't find them to be hopeless; and I see nothing wrong with "old-fashioned". Living my life according to my Grandma's ways has helped me earn the respect of others - and the respect of myself. 

She taught me that having standout domestic skills does not make me any less of a feminist; and that being a feminist does not make me any less feminine.

She taught me to work hard for what I wish to achieve, to never settle, but to make sure that what I am working for is what I really want.

She taught me that, as a woman, it is possible for me to have a career and a family - but was honest enough to let me know that it is nearly impossible to do justice to both. Choose wisely.

She taught me to stand up for myself and in what I believe - even if it is not the popular choice.

She taught me to never allow a man to push me around, physically or mentally.

She taught me to be chaste enough to not only be respected by men, but by other women as well.

But most importantly, my Grandma taught me that when you love someone enough, you want to do for them...that no matter how much they anger you, you will always be able to keep your temper in check and your voice down...that with love, even the biggest problems can be shrunk down to size...and that a bowl of home-made chicken soup can really put life's problems into a manageable prospective.

KJM

1996

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost - Tazi's Corner #70 - Honoring Nelson Mandela

Ed. Note: In honor of Nelson Mandela Day, which occured this past week, Tazi. is reposting this article.

Dear Readers,

This week, I have seen an outpouring of love and support in the memory and commemoration of human rights leader Nelson Mandela, who passed away on Thursday at the age of 95. My question to those who have posted quotes from Mandela, RIP messages, and sympathies for the loss to the world is this: So what are you going to do now? 

To say that Nelson Mandela was a giant for human rights and racial equality in a gross understatement, but the only words I know that can express his importance to the world. Over the course of his lifetime, Mandela made sacrifices that made him both a living martyr and a saint to the causes he supported. He leaves behind a legacy of greatness in his humility and his shoes will be nigh on impossible to fill. This does not mean that we should not try, though. So I ask again, what are you going to do now?

Does the legacy of Nelson Mandela inspire you to stand up to injustice in any way that makes you even slightly uncomfortable? Does it inspire you to stand up to hate speech - even if your boss is the one making hateful comments? Does it inspire you to break ties with companies that suppress their employee wages in favor of higher stock returns for their investors - even if it means paying a higher price for your consumer goods at another store or local small business? Does the legacy of Nelson Mandela make you want to better yourself by making the hard sacrifices that the short-term requires in order to make your world a better place in the long-run? And if this legacy does inspire you to do any of this, will you actually commit to doing it? Or will you remain complacent within the confines of your comfort zone?

To follow is a short list of the simple ways you can make a difference in the life of someone who is oppressed:

1. Commit to volunteering once a week at a local soup kitchen. If you can afford it, bring a small donation of cash or food with you every time you go there. Save your loose change and donate what's collected by the end of the week.

2. Go through your closets and look for business attire that you do not wear. Donate it to a program like Dress for Success. Once a season,  go to the department stores and search for business attire on clearance; buy it and donate it. (Mommie and I once donated a brand new ladies' business suit that we found on sale at J.C. Penney for only $9.98! It didn't look right on either of us, but it looked great on the recipient).

Tan is not my color...

3. Are you handy around the house? Habitat for Humanity is always in need of regular volunteers to help build homes for those in need of quality, low-income housing. Grab your tools and offer a donation of your time and talents!

4. Is there a human rights issue that sticks in your craw? Start a petition, directed at your government representatives, to fight for change! If you have an Internet connection, you don't even have to leave the comfort of your own home - Change.org will administrate for you, but you will need to be vocal! Email your petition to all of your contacts, explain to them why the issue is important to you and ask them to petition others to build momentum! Spread the word via social media - if you don't use sites like Twitter and Facebook, start with this project!

5. Can you do math without a calculator? Many school-age children cannot, and struggle with basic concepts like multiplication tables and fractions. Talk to your local school board representative and see if there are programs where you could volunteer your skills as a tutor.

6. Is there a prison or juvenile detention facility in your community? Look into working as a mentor for a non-violent offender. Many correctional facilities have pre-release programs, which have been shown to cut recidivism rates, and are desperate for qualified volunteer mentors.

To often, people fail in life and at life because they believe that nobody cares about them; without a helping hand, those failures start to oppress and in time become overwhelming. The difference you choose to make by your actions or inaction will matter to someone - work to make that difference a positive one by making an effort to affect positive change. The life you change may be your own, as well!

Nelson Mandela was more than a man who cared - he was a man who cared with a passion, and who took steps to express that passion! Do not dishonor his memory by quoting his words while failing to follow his example in your actions.

Snuggles,
Tazi

Rest now in peace and know that others will continue your journey for you

Nelson Mandela
1918 - 2013

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #76 - In Defense Of Fathers

Dear Readers,

You have all seen the viral picture of the Daddy combing his daughter's hair while holding his other baby, right? If you have not, here it is:

I love this picture. It is a sweet picture of a Daddy helping his daughter get ready for school because his wife - who usually combs their daughter's hair - was running late for work. Unfortunately, it was not the cute factor that made this picture go viral. It was the fact that a father was helping with the day-to-day domestic side of child-rearing  - and doing so successfully, with just a little innovation on his part - that made the world go gaga.

The story behind the photo is that this man's wife thought he would be unable to accomplish this feat - of holding the baby and brushing the elder daughter's hair. My immediate reaction to hearing this was upset. Apparently, his wife does not have much faith in her husband as a father! There has been a lot of praise from the blogosphere, saying it is about time father's pitched in; and a lot of criticism, saying that this man does not deserve a medal for helping to raise his child. Well, maybe he does. Because how often do we praise fathers for being capable?

If we look at any television sitcom, men are most likely being made to look like buffoons who would be unable to lace their own shoes if their wives didn't show them how to do it. They are good for a paycheck (which provides the large colonial houses in which these families always seem to live), humor filled discipline, laughs and not much more. Dating back to the very first episode of The Cosby Show, when Bill Cosby was sent upstairs with the wifely directive to "kill your son", modern fathers have been shown as removed from the real day to day activity of our lives. (Did we ever see Cliff Huxtable try to tame Rudy's nappy locks?). If we want to stretch back to the '50's through the '70's - a time when Father Knows Best and Mom waited for him to get home - we see even less of fathers outside of a disciplinary and instructive role.

Somebody had to! Her hair was always perfect!

At a time when everyone from Oprah to the NFL is pushing fathers to be more involved with their children the time has come for praise of fathers who already are involved! Mothers, you can expect more from your child's father! You can even demand more. Most importantly, though, you need to give him the opportunity to do more without criticizing him that he did it wrong and it will just be easier for you to do it yourself. You know how you feel when your mother criticizes you on your child-rearing skills? Don't pass that criticism on to your child's father!

A father is more than just a sperm-donor and a paycheck; he is a living, feeling person with emotions that society has told him he needs to squash deep down inside of him if he is to be perceived as a real man. We teach our sons that boys don't cry, that boys are tough, and then expect them to find their delicate side as soon as their children are born so they can be an equal partner in the day-to-day duties of parenting...when they will then be pushed to the sidelines if they do a task differently than their child's mother would do it, as if there is only one "right" way of doing something. In the quest for equality outside the home are women becoming the oppressors at home? (And I mean in an otherwise non-violent, non-abusive household).

Photo courtesy of comics.com © All rights reserved.

We cannot use the sexist and emasculating term "Mr. Mom" to describe a stay-at-home father and then complain that men (in general) do not do enough to help with the domestic chores. Why would they if they know they will only be made fun of for it? When a man wearing an apron and helping with dinner becomes a reason to drop everything to take a picture because it's "funny looking" what message are we sending to men?

Duh...what's a stove? Me use flaming stick!

The time has come to give men the opportunity to be fathers in the fullest sense of the word - and that means expressing confidence, not doubt, when they offer to help brush a child's hair; make dinner; or wash a load of laundry - and to stop complaining about how the oppressiveness of these tasks steals your time and energy

Snuggles,
Tazi

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #27 - On Taking Liberties With Spelling

Dear Readers,

As a cat I am known to have several pet peeves, usually revolving around the way you humans act; however, I have one peeve that this week rises above all other peeves. Today, I seek to address it, and so I ask: WHY do you keep altering the accepted spelling of your children’s names?

This year, the first baby born in my home state of Rhode Island was born to a high school student on her 18^th birthday. She lives with her unemployed aunt who, in spite of her own financial troubles, has graciously welcomed the baby with open arms. The way I see it, this child is going to have an uphill battle in life as it is without having his name spelled "Izzak", a “creative” (according to the Providence Journal) way of spelling the biblical name “Isaac”. Parents! What are you thinking when you do something like this?

I realize that we live in a world where we want our children to feel unique and stand out from the crowd. Giving a child a unique name can be a blessing or a curse, depending on what that name is. I use as a real life example one of my Mommie’s former co-workers, a man who wanted his son to have a unique name that nobody else had. He named the child “Nazik", insisting he made the name up himself; the large Arabic community of Southern New England could have told him differently. “Nazik” is in fact a popular girl’s name in Turkey and Armenia; it means “pretty” (I have also been told "pretty flower", which just makes it worse, but is unconfirmed. I do not know what happened to that kid, but strains of Johnny Cash’s A Boy Named Sue go through my head every time I think of him.

Creative spellings and creative names may make your child stand out in a crowd, but not necessarily in a good way. If people cannot pronounce your child’s name, they are less likely to be called upon – in school, at play, and in life in general. Rather than risk offending someone by mispronouncing a name, people will pass over them – be it for a play date or a job interview. Humans, like all animals, crave familiarity and comfort. You can still give your child a name that you think is unique (but is actually trendy), just don’t mess with the accepted spelling! As a Providence (RI) school teacher once commented, “I am left wondering if the parents are trying to be creative or if they are just illiterate”.

I believe this only works among adults...

Something we must remember is that language has rules set down in order to unify a people, not to divide them. When language becomes an impediment to understanding, rather than an aid, communication fails. When that fails, we might as well go our own way. Ghoti, anyone? (That's how I spell "fish"!).

Prior generations understood the importance of what was in a name, and the importance of communicating a name. Difficult to pronounce names (especially those of Jewish and Eastern European background) were "Americanized"; merchants changed the pronunciations and spellings of their last names to that which was familiar to their customers. This is a lesson we would do well to remember in our ever-globalizing world. As those who do not speak English as a native tongue work to learn the language, and seek to work more with Americans, confusing spellings will not give your child a leg up on the competition.

Just for fun - and to make my point interactive - to follow are a few of the more “creative” spellings and “unique” names I have gathered from family and friends who work with youth. How many can you immediately recognize? 

Mathew (Matthew traditionally has two “t”’s, but since this is the most innocuous, I list it here on principle, not out of disgust)

Jhaymes (James can be spelled with a “y”, but who puts an “h” in it?)

Aighmee (Not an acceptable spelling of “Amy” or “Aimee”, which means “friend” in French; be a friend to your child and correct this hideous spelling!)

Konner (Are you a Kardashian? Unlike the Icelandic alphabet, the Latin (aka Western) alphabet has the letter “C” in it; learn to use it!).

Jhéojhañâ (This unique name belongs to one of my readers. Can you pronounce it? Neither can anybody else; and it hindered her job search).  

Mikkaila (Michaela, the feminine of “Michael” has a few accepted spellings, but this is not one of them!).

Alexzandre (Alexander is a unique enough name as it is; there is no need to butcher the spelling to make him stand out on a crowd. Furthermore, the “x” already has a “z” sound, so there is no need for redundancy, and the transposed letters at the end will make people wonder if they have been affected with dyslexia!).

Sindy (Unless you are raising your daughter to work in a strip club, please use an accepted spelling of the name “Cindy” – unless you actually are Icelandic.).

Dafydd (Multiple Paw Slaps of Disgust to the idiot that thought up this spelling for “David”!).

Espn (I don’t care how much you love sports, don’t name your kid after the cable sports network ESPN! Just don’t!)

Jovanny (It took me a few minutes to figure out this illiterate spelling of “Giovanni”. Just call the kid “John”!).

And if you think that last one is bad, I have saved my favorite for last…

Le__a (It’s pronounced “LeDasha"; the dash is not silent).

Snuggles,
Tazi


Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with a Bachelors of Arts in Communications. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner: Issue #1 - Adventures In Unemployment

Tazi’s Corner
Life as Your Pet Sees It!

As a housecat, I have realized that I need to expand my horizons if I was to see the world of humans so I screwed up my courage and jumped into my Mommie’s soft and cozy hobo bag and stowed away whenever she went out to explore the wide world of humans. What I saw piqued my curiosity (I am lucky I wasn't killed by it!) so I perked up my ears and listened to see if anything interesting was being said. A lot of people were talking about needing jobs and wanting to find jobs, but few actually seemed to want to work. Here is a transcript of one conversation I overheard:

Woman: Oh, I am so glad I ran into you! You know so many people and have so many resources, and I need to find a job fast! My unemployment benefits are running out! Do you know anyone who is hiring?

Mommie: Probably; what kind of work are you looking for?

Woman: Anything. I will do anything. I need a paycheck.

Mommie: The tutoring center at the community college needs qualified…[woman cuts off Mommie in mid-sentence!]

Woman: Oh, no. I don’t want to tutor. I can’t stand working with people who just don’t get it.

Mommie: Okay…I was just speaking with the Director of a local pre-school; she is looking for Teaching Assistants to work with the pre-schoolers. She is willing to train the right person, too.

Woman: Oh, no. I hate working with kids.

Mommie: Well, I guess that means you are not the right person. What is your career field?

Woman: Communications

Mommie: Great! The advertising firm where I used to work is always looking for new Account Executives, and they are willing to train, too.

Woman: H[eck], no! I do NOT do sales!

Mommie: [now exasperated] I just came from Wal-Mart and saw that they are hiring.

Woman: Ugh, I would rather work in sales than work for Wal-Mart.

Mommie: Well, what it is you want to do for work? What are you qualified to do?

Woman: Anything, I’ll do anything…

Obviously not, considering that Mommie gave her four leads for entry-level or will-train jobs and she turned them all down! It’s no wonder her unemployment benefits are about to end! The conversation continued from there in a familiar vein. Mommie works for a very good employer, a place where everyone wants to work.

Woman: Are they hiring where you work? How do I get a job there?

Mommie: We are always hiring, it just depends on for what.

Woman: I told you, anything; I just need a JOB!

Mommie: But what are your qualifications?

Woman: I have a great work ethic!

Okay, so we all know that was a lie! Mommie continued to probe, asking if the woman had a CNA license (no); any kind of specialized training (no); bookkeeping skills (no); secretarial and/or computer skills (double no); a college degree (no); or professional licensing of any kind (no). Would she be willing to work in housekeeping? (Again, no; she “wasn’t so desperate” that she would clean toilets).

Mommie: Well, I’m not certain what it is you could do for work; maybe you could meet with a job counselor at the unemployment office?

Woman: No, those people are worthless. Too bad you couldn’t help me, either. Keep me in mind if you hear about any job openings?

I heard Mommie mumble “Don’t hold your breath” as she walked away. Paw slaps of disgust to those who are not willing to take the job offered because it is not the job that they want. Employers want people with experience - and experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want!

Snuggles to everyone else,
Tazi

P.S. On second thought...






















Big thank-you's to regular reader and fellow blogger
Maya Lincoln for sending this pic to me!


Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with a Bachelors of Arts in Communications. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #50 - Would You Rather...?

Dear Readers:

This week I have been seeing “Would You Rather?” questions everywhere I turn! For those who are not familiar with this game, it is simple: you are given the choice of two uncomfortable and/or disgusting choices or in a rare case, two extremely enjoyable choices and you have to decide which you would rather do; you cannot respond “neither” or “both” – that would defeat the whole point of the game! You need to decide which you would consider the lesser of two evils or the greater of two pleasures.

I have decided to share with you today some of the questions, as well as my answers – just for fun! Feel free to join in and tell me what you would rather do – and why! (Thank you to Buzzfeed.com for providing these thought provoking questions).

Would you rather…

Live one 1,000 year life or 10-100 year lives?

I'm a cat, I already have nine lives so what's one more? I go with option B and the 10 one-hundred year lives. This way nobody gets smarmy and calls me Methuselah! 

Have hiccups for the rest of your life? Or feel like you need to sneeze and not be able to for the rest of your life?

Have you ever seen a cat when its about to sneeze? Our face scrunches up all cute and adorable, and I am all for looking cute and adorable. Hiccups usually result in large and glorious barfs, which is also tempting, but I am going to stick with cute and adorable; there aren't enough shoes in the world for all the barfs I would have if I chose hiccups so feeling sneezy it is!

Have the ability to read minds? (You will be illiterate.) Or have just have the ability to read?

Cats already have the ability to read minds, and I kind of like it this way. For example I know that you are thinking about sex. And if you weren't, you are now...that's why you are smiling!

Watch your parents have sex every day for a year? (I’m sorry) Or join in once to make it stop? (I’m sorry).

I am sorry that I made you think about sex just now, especially if this is the vision now planted in your brain! As a cat, I can sleep anytime and anywhere, so I would choose to watch and then fall asleep in the middle of it all. Please tell me you chose the same answer...

Eat chocolate-flavored poop? Or eat poop-flavored chocolate?

If I were a dog this would be so much easier to answer...then again, maybe not; dogs would eat either without an issue. I'm going for the chocolate - the real thing - because it has far less bacteria and other illness-inducing agents.

You're on a desert island with a beautiful woman or man. Would you rather...
They are top-half fish?
Or they are bottom-half fish? 

I have been neutered so I can't do anything special with my half-fish lady friend, so I am going to say bottom half fish. This way she has hands to provide me with belly rubs!
 

Fart popcorn? Or have your past and future web browsing history available to everyone?

Except for those visits to sites like Playcat and Catnip Times I am not ashamed of my browser history, so bring it on! Besides, popcorn constipates me; I cannot imagine trying to fart it out of my little bum!

Go to Hogwarts and still be a muggle? Or live in a world with Pokemon, but only be able to catch Magikarps?

I had to look this one up but have decided that I would rather be a plain and ordinary cat with no magical powers than a fisherman who can catch magical carp. Wait a sec...if I ate the magical carp would I gain magical powers? 

Have sex with a goat, and no one knows that you did it? Or NOT have sex with a goat, but everyone THINKS you did it?

I'm going to pass on the goat sex. I think my browser history (which I revealed earlier!) will show that I am not into that sort of thing. 

I'm too sexy for my spots, too sexy for my spots...

Live in a world where huge, friendly gummy bears walk around? Or live in a world where hover boards exist?

I'll take the hover boards. Not because I would want to ride one but because I am afraid that people will find huge, friendly gummy bears cuter than me and we can't have that!

Even at a week's worth of calories it is STILL adorable!

Live the rest of your life with Cheeto dust on your fingers? Or have taste buds in your butt?

How is this even a question? Was the person writing this watching scat-fetish porn? I would rather spend my life sporting orange paws (which would look sexy with my black fur) and have a tasty snack every time I licked my fingers than the alternative suggested here! Using my sandbox would be a nightmare!

Have a side soup? Or have a side salad?

Oh, man...if I say the soup are you going to tell me it's lentil bean? Because I can't stand lentils, but I don't like when the salad comes out and it's all reject lettuce because the good stuff is too expensive and the restaurant doesn't want to have to raise prices. Can you tell me what kind of dressing you have? And do you charge extra for blue cheese dressing? Because that's going to factor into my decision! Now if the soup is chicken, is it chicken noodle or chicken rice? If it's noodle do you use actual noodles or do you use that tiny little pasta and just call it chicken noodle? How big is the serving of soup? Is it the size of a coffee cup? Because that's just a tease and its not worth it and if that's the case I'll have the salad, but if it's a good sized bowl I'll have the soup. With crackers. On the side. Please. Meg Ryan's got nothing on me! 

Snuggles,

Tazi

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with a Bachelors of Arts in Communications. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #60 - 4 Complaints (And 1 Compliment) About "300 Sandwiches"

Dear Readers:

I have been reading a lot lately about the blog 300 Sandwiches, and I have to say I am disappointed. For starters, with a title like “300 Sandwiches” I thought the blog would be about Spartan cooking; alas and alack, it was not. It is about a woman’s quest to earn an engagement ring from her boyfriend (who, incidentally is a professional chef), who has basically told her that if she learned to cook he would marry her; that she was “300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring”. The comment was an offhand one, so I can forgive the sexism that sometimes infiltrates long-term relationships, but the author – a writer for the most glorious newspaper feature ever, Page Six of the New York Post, took the guy seriously and started her campaign for marriage because her biological clock was (cue the Marisa Tomei visuals) TICKING, TICKING, TICKING!

Now I like me a good sandwich (even if I am not as ballsy as my big brother, Koko Kat, who has been known to jump up on the dining table and latch on to the tail end of a turkey sub), so I will admit to salivating over some of the photos I saw on the 300 Sandwiches Pinterest board…yet I was still left with a bad taste in my mouth over the whole concept of it, starting with the pressure Stephanie Smith, the author, feels to make these amazing works of art. She is not the chef, her boyfriend is; yet he wants her to prepare his meals when he is too tired to cook (in complete disregard that she may be equally tired). I can understand that after a full day of cooking the last thing he may want to do is come home and cook some more, but Smith has also put in a full day at work – and sometimes has to go out again at night, yet must pull off the construction of an artisan sandwich in heels and a party dress like she is some kind of modern-day June Cleaver.

You mean you don't wear heels and pearls to do the dusting?

My personal belief is that everyone – regardless of sex or gender – should know how to passably cook, even if they do not enjoy cooking. The fact of the matter is that there will come a time when you will be forced to prepare your own meals, be it because it is after midnight and the pizza delivery guy has gone home for the night or because you have been widowed after decades upon decades of marriage and will now follow your spouse in death if you do not learn how to prepare a ptomaine-free steak. Even I, with my lack of opposable thumbs, have learned that a meal can be secured if only I have the patience to chew through the bag of cat cereal! (Incidentally, I learned this shortly after learning that the humans do not think that 2 AM is the ideal time to fill my bowl). For this reason, I am happy that Ms. Smith is finally learning to cook, even if she never learns to love it. Her motivation is what concerns me, though.

Diet, schmiet!

Decades ago the late, great Ann Landers printed a list of rules for a happy marriage that a reader sent to her; she reprinted it in the 1980’s so a more enlightened America could have a good laugh over rules like “greet your husband with a drink and his newspaper when he gets home from work” and “stay a size 10 forever” (for the record, Ann’s 12 Rules were much more egalitarian).  While these “Reader’s Rules” may have flown when a woman’s only job was to be a homemaker and to look great while doing it, nowadays women work outside the home as well, and should not be expected to meet the antiquated standards of previous generations – yet this is the exact standard that the idea behind the 300 Sandwiches plan promotes. If this dynamic works for Smith and her boyfriend, than I believe that is their business, but her choice to publicize it makes it the public’s business, giving us the right to mind it. I argue that he made a sexist comment, she bought it, and now she must own the debate that surrounds it, criticisms and all.

In every relationship there are things one partner would love to change about the other. It has often been said that a man marries a woman hoping she will not change and that a woman marries a man and hopes that he will, thus explaining the high divorce rate in America because you cannot force someone to change without resentment building between the two of you; change needs to be something you strive for because you want it, with no outside strings attached. In the case of Smith and her 300 Sandwiches, an engagement ring is the carrot dangling from this particular string. This brings me to my final concern: the example this highly publicized plan sets.

All relationships demand compromise in order to run smoothly, but these compromises should be made from without, not from within. You should not have to change who you are in order to be pleasing to your mate; your mate should love you for who are, not in spite of who you are. While the point behind 300 Sandwiches is that cooking is a show of love, it should not be a forced show of love, an obligation to be met in return for the highest form of commitment one partner can make to the other. If Smith’s boyfriend wants to marry her, his proposal should not be because she has jumped through some kind of hoop to meet some kind of obligation he has set. What if, after the 300^th sandwich is presented to him, he is just not ready to follow through with his end of the deal and he leaves her over the pressure to fulfill a very public arrangement? What if he says yes to marriage but no to children, her ideal goal? Will she have to make another 300 sandwiches and hope he changes his mind? What about after the kids are born and she can’t lose the baby weight? Will the next sensational blog be about a woman who was too heavy for her partner, who in turn offered to marry her/agreed not to divorce her if she lost weight? Such conditional caveats are not the basis for a healthy marriage, yet popularize the idea that men can all be bought for the right price. Is the way to a man’s heart through his stomach? Do all men think with their genitals? Quite frankly, I think more men should be speaking up about how insulting this “300 Sandwiches” arrangement actually is!

Snuggles,

Tazi

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with Bachelors degrees in Communications and in Gender and Women's Studies. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #46 - Resolving First World Problems

Dear Readers,

This week while exploring the new Tazi Sack my Mommie got for her birthday, I ran across a First World Problem or two. The first First World Problem was my Mommie telling me that her new designer purse is not, as I had thought, a new travel bag for me. I personally think that I should be allowed to travel in style, and a Guess? by Georges Marciano purse is just the style I like, so I decided to slip into it anyway and hope that Mommie would think the extra weight was just her tablet or the latest Ken Follett book she is reading, or any number of things that I removed from her new purse in order to make room for me. First World Problem solved!

If your purse isn't big enough to fit the cat,
what is the point of carrying it?

It was while on an adventure to the supermarket deli that I ran into a second First World Problem. As an advice columnist, I am used to solving other people’s problems, and not being able to puzzle through an answer to this one left me with my very own First World Problem – mild frustration, but that is another story for another time. Here is how the scenario I reference played out:

Mommie: I would like a ½ pound of baked ham, please; a little under is OK, a little over is not.

Deli Girl: OK!

The Deli Girl started to slice the meat, and I thought she would stop at .49 pounds. Surely she knew that an extra slice would tip the scales over and upset my Mommie, who does not like to order more food than she knows she can eat! The Deli Girl did not stop slicing, though, and actually added on two more slices of ham. In what world does she live where two slices of baked ham weight .01 ounces? To put that in international terms, that is less than ½ gram of ham. Consequently, Mommie’s order was over and she had to ask the Deli girl to remove a few slices.

Mommie: I asked for ½ a pound or a little under. .49 pounds was fine, why did you slice two more pieces?

Deli Girl gives Mommie a blank stare.

Mommie: Could you remove those last two slices, please?

Deli Girl: You don’t want them?

Mommie: That depends, are you giving them to me for free?

Deli Girl: No, why would I do that?

Mommie: Because you had the correct amount and then proceeded to add more, so unless you are giving it to me for free I do not want it. I am not going to pay money for something that will go bad before I can eat it.

A few days later Mommie returned to the same supermarket deli for some chicken salad, because she is too uncoordinated to make it herself; she always adds too much mayonnaise (wow, another First World Problem!). This time, she asked for a ½ pound or under of the brand name chicken salad, because the store brand invariably has chunks of bone and cartilage in it (wow, yet another First World Problem!). She went through the same script with a different Deli Girl and got the same exact response – too much chicken salad and having to ask the Deli Girl to remove some of it because Mommie was not going to pay for food that she was not going to eat. This got me thinking.

I was thinking that perhaps this national supermarket chain trained its deli workers to give customers more than they wanted, thinking nobody would complain and ask that the extra be removed, thus upselling the customer against their will. Unethical, but effective. I suggested to Mommie that she try the small, locally owned grocery store for our next food-based sojourn. Like all intelligent humans, she took my advice and went to a small, locally owned grocery store.

On this particular day Mommie was looking to buy some ham salad for lunch because even though there was a refrigerator full of food at home, she apparently had “nothing to eat”. (I love my Mommie, but she is just full of First World Problems, isn’t she? I digress, don’t I?). Anyhow, on this particular day, Mommie asked the deli Guy for ¼ pound of ham salad. Here is how the conversation went:

Mommie: The ham salad looks really good. Could I please have a quarter pound of it?

Deli Guy: No problem!

Deli Guy then scoops an entire ½ pint container full (in international terms, this would be approximately 225 grams; she wanted half of that). When Mommie sees that the Deli Guy has given her double what she asked for, she politely told him it was too much for her to eat.

Mommie: Oh! I asked for a ¼ pound, this is  a half-pound! I couldn’t possibly eat that much for lunch!

Deli Guy: Oh, sorry. Do you want to save it for later?

Mommie: I have no refrigeration at work, and it is a hot day. It will go bad by “later”. An animal died for my meal, I am not going to disrespect its sacrifice by throwing away the excess. Please remove it.

Deli Guy: No problem, it’s just that nobody has ever said anything before.

Nobody has ever said anything about being sold more food than they can eat? How much food do humans waste every year because it starts to go bad before they can eat it? I have seen the Ziploc commercials, and it appears to be quite a lot! A study released in 2012 shows that Americans throwaway nearly 40% of the food they buy! That is almost HALF of all the food they buy, and I am wondering if the upsell at the deli is contributing to this waste!

Wasted food is not a First World Problem. Too many people – in America and around the world – suffer from food insecurity, which is not having enough food to satisfy your body’s needs, or starvation diets due to a lack of food. That rancid meat you throw away was once a living creature; respect its sacrifice by only buying what you know you will eat. That moldy bread you threw away could have been donated, while still fresh of course, to a food pantry where someone who cannot afford a loaf of bread would have feasted upon it for a week. Those rotting vegetables could have been served as a nutritious main course as an alternative to meat, which humans eat way too much of, according to nutrition experts.

Americans like to complain about the high cost of food and how it keeps getting higher, yet they continue to throw out almost half of what they buy. I wish I could say this is a First World Problem, but from the view of someone living in a Third World country it is more than that; it is a sin. 

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with a Bachelors of Arts in Communications. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner #34 - Take Time Before Time Takes You

Dear Readers,

This week, while sitting on top of the HELP WANTED ads (because I cannot have Mommie leaving the house for work) I saw an ad that just about broke my little kitten heart. In short, it read as follows:

COMPANION NEEDED: Companion needed 1 – 2 hours a week to play chess with elderly gentleman with MS. $20/hr…

How sad that this man’s children must pay someone ($20 an hour, at that!) to spend time with their father, indulging in a game of kings. I realize that people work during the day, that chess is not everyone’s cup of tea, but how far have we fallen as a society that we must pay a stranger to act as a companion to keep our elderly loved ones entertained? How inconvenient would it be to see that Father has a ride to the local Senior Center to meet up with some of his old cronies? How distasteful would it be to take the time to learn how to play chess and to spend 120 minutes a week sitting with Grandpa and listening to him talk? How off-putting would it be to assist Uncle in moving the pieces when his hands do not want to go where he is directing them?  How far have we fallen, indeed…?  Atticus Finch would have sent Jem and Scout to visit, for free.

If you look in the mirror and see someone who doesn't have time for those who crave even the smallest ounce of companionship, maybe now is the time to reflect on how to carve time into your busy schedule, before you become the one with all the time in the world…and no one with whom to spend it.

Snuggles,

Tazi

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with a Bachelors of Arts in Communications. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.

Repost: Tazi's Corner: Issue #2: Rules For A Successful And Loving Relationship

Hello Readers, and welcome to another edition of Tazi’s Corner – Life As Your Pet Sees it! Since I am a cat, I do my fair share of napping; but this is not all that I do with my spare time! I also spend as good deal of time pretending to nap so I can spy on the world of humans. Let me tell you, y’all tend to complicate matters, so with that in mind I am offering

Tazi’s Tips for a Successful, Loving, and Long-Term Relationship!

The “rules” start from a female perspective, and alternate with a man’s perspective. Enjoy!

She Says If you must check out another woman in front of us, do it discreetly – without moving your neck. Unless the woman is a total train wreck, like you see on PeopleOfWalMart.com; then you can gawk all you want. We won't feel the least bit threatened. Honestly, will probably be staring, too.

He Says Never, ever talk with a man you don't know in front of us. I don't care if that other person is a Catholic priest – don't do it! We see it as flirting. Flirt with your significant other.

She Says Don't steal my flannel pajama pants because your junk is cold. Those are the coziest things I own.

He Says Never wear flannel pajama pants around your man. This is why he steals them - to keep you from committing this heinous error.

She Says Never, ever try to diagnose PMS. And if you ever show up at my door with a 1 pound Hershey bar and say, "You sounded like you needed this" be prepared to be castrated!

He Says Don't ever leave a box of tampons in plain view. I don't care if it is your bathroom, hide them under the sink. This is something no man wants to see, for a variety of reasons.

She Says Call when you say you will. And if I call and you don't want to talk, don't disrespect me by pretending to be listening. Ask if you can call me back "later". I will understand.

He Says Understand that I am not going to call you exactly when I say I will – it looks desperate, and makes me look whipped in front of my friends. Know that I will be thinking of you just the same.

She Says Don’t compare me to your ex-girlfriend, even if I come out the winner. It makes me wonder what you will say about me if I am ever an “ex”.

He Says Never, ever trash an ex-boyfriend to another man. If he really is the low-life you claim, other men will already know that, and we will trash him for you.

She Says At least pretend to enjoy the chick-flick I have asked you to watch with me.

He Says If you don't like sports, do not claim to "love" them to try and impress us. Not all men love sports, but they do hate insincere women.

She Says If you DO love chick flicks, don't be afraid to admit it – it will be our little secret! Stuff like that makes me feel closer to you.

He Says Take at least a passing interest in the things that I like. Your supportive attitude makes a huge difference in whether or not I lie to you about where I am going and what I am doing.

She Says Be willing to try new things – who knows? You may find you enjoy live theatre and Broadway musicals.

He Says Don't try to match us drink for drink. Men can drink more than women, and sloppy drunk is not attractive.

She Says Love me enough to tie my hair back when I am getting sick. Respect me enough to clean the toilet when I am through.

He Says Eat your half of the pizza. You are beautiful, and don't need to diet.

She Says Remember that starch can make me feel fat and stop pushing the extra slice on me when I refuse it.

He Says I don't shave on weekends. Deal with it.

She Says My bra and panties will not match on the day before laundry day. Deal with that.

He Says Be up front with me about your feelings for me; but don't go overboard. Before you tell me you love me, start by saying, "I love it when you [fill in the blank]". If we aren't ready to hear the words yet, this will ease us into it – or give us the heads up that it is time to pull back a little.

She Says Don't assume that I will have sex with you at a prescribed point in our relationship. All relationships are different. Some never make it that far.

He Says Don't expect us to be mind readers. If we go too far, tell us…and if we aren't going far enough show us!

She Says Don't assume that what worked for your ex-girlfriend will work on us. And that goes for all areas, not just sex. Not all women groove to expensive jewelry; some of us like iMerchandise.

He Says Don't "drop hints" – we will not get them. Tell us what interests you.

She Says If you love me than always love me, even when I am ugly. Especially when I am ugly.

He Says Look at me like I am the only man in your world.

She Says Stand up for me when your Mom is being a [w]itch to me.

He Says As soon as I learn how to stand up to her myself.

She Says Offer to put me first when you have conflicting commitments. I will probably let you off the hook if you don’t do this too often; but we like to know we are #1. (We ARE #1, aren't we?).

He Says Don't gripe about Boys’ Night Out. By showing that you trust me, it makes me want to act in a trustworthy manner.

She Says The same rule goes for Girls’ Night Out.

He Says It's not that I don't trust you; it's that I don't trust other men to behave themselves around you. You are too beautiful.

She Says Don't flatter me to try and get your own way. Be sincere.

He Says Learn how to graciously accept a compliment!

She Says Know when I am sorry without making me say it every single time. That gets kind of humiliating. Let my actions speak for me.

He Says Accept that flowers are my way of saying "I know I messed up big time; can you ever forgive me?"

She Says If you don't know what you did to hurt me, don't make me explain it to you until AFTER I have cooled down.

He Says Tell me what I did. Please…and then forgive me for not knowing you better.

She Says Don't call me a nag

He Says Never nag. It is the most unattractive thing a woman can do…

She Says Take out the garbage when it needs to go out…not two days later.

He Says Never interrupt me while I am playing video games, watching sports, or hiding in my Man Cave to ask me to do house chores.

She Says Limit your time in your Man Cave and a lot of our problems will solve themselves

He Says Don’t freak on me if I forget to put the toilet seat down.

She Says Don't EVER tell me I don't keep the house as clean as your Mom does.

He Says Make an effort to get along with my Mom, even when she is rude to you.

She Says Don't be afraid of my Daddy.

He Says If our religious or political views differ, don't try to force your beliefs on me. Because I love you, I will make an effort to see your point of view.

She Says Respect and love me for who I am, not who you wish I was.

He Says Respect and love me for who I am, not for who you think I should be.

She Says Share your thoughts and feelings with me.

He Says Don’t ask me “What are you thinking?”

She Says Give me credit for my ideas and accomplishments, even if they outshine yours.

He Says If things aren't working, and we have tried our best, accept that I am breaking up with you. It may not be forever but in my mind, at that very point, it is. Let go. Stalking me will only help me get over you that much quicker.

She Says Know that if I break up with you, it is because you do not fulfill my needs. Post break-up is not the time to start trying.

He Says Never tell me I am lousy at something – even if I am. Teach me how to improve.

She Says Always be sensitive towards my emotions, and I will be gentle on your ego.

He Says Continue to tell me you think I am hot, even after I develop "love handles" or start to lose my hair.

She Says Take care of yourself physically. I don’t want to lose you to a heart attack.

He Says Baby me when I am sick, even if it is inconvenient for you.

She Says Accept that when illness strikes me, I will not be the Super Mom in the cough syrup commercial.

He Says Don't give me conflicting instructions.

She Says Always communicate with me. For women, most of our relationship problems start because we are feeling ignored, and we don't know how to let you know.

He Says Don't shut me out sexually. For men, most of our relationship problems start because we are feeling ignored, and we don't know how else to let you know.

She Says Understand that for a woman, having sex involves a lot of preparatory and a lot of clean-up after the fact; sort of like eating watermelon.


See, readers? Just as in real life, the woman gets the last word!

Snuggles,
Tazi

Ask Tazi! is ghostwritten by a human with a Bachelors of Arts in Communications. Tazi-Kat is not really a talking feline.