Bruised Muse Views

COMPETITION

2011-06-06T03:05:00.001-04:00

The definition of competition is different for everyone. I think it spurns ugly emotions and horrible attitudes, when it is taken too seriously.

When it is put on a personal level, it can cause bitterness and jealousy. In this way, competing doesn't matter in my life. I absolutely could care less what kind of house or car others may own. I could care less what achievements or talents other people have. I am sure I am perfectly content with where I live, what car I drive and everything else on the personal side. If I choose to change or improve myself, it's only between me and me and me.

Competition during a game is supposed to be "healthy", but this is only true if we know how to lose politely. We all win and we all lose, however, it's our attitude after the match which makes it healthy or unhealthy. Again, this isn't worth the bitterness of the loss. We can only learn and try harder to succeed or win the next time.

In the game of life, competition seems to be rampant. People watch DIY and the home channels, wanting the best and biggest home, revamping or redecorating with high end features. Home prices are even based on how much stuff you have in the house. Though the house next door is for sale for $1.6 million does not mean I want that house. I am content where I live.

There are expensive clothes and accessories to purchase and wear, and I have been known to splurge on a few myself. Though I have a couple of these fashionable, yet nonessential items, does not mean I am competing with every other woman walking down the street. The list continues with expensive pets, colleges for kids, electronics, furniture, toys, vacations, etc. I think it would be amazing for society to have a competition on volunteering or giving time to charitable causes. Let's see how awesome everyone can be and let the "better" person be the one who shows kindness or who cares about other people in the world, instead of materialistic competition with family, friends or neighbors.

Some think competition is needed in the business world. I agree with this to a certain point. It keeps people honest. Without competition, there is no one else bidding or vying for the same business, and being the only company, you could name your price. However, it's still unfortunate that we need it to keep people honest, as we should be honest at all times in our transactions. I've seen first hand how competition in business has been put directly on a personal level. It's unnecessary and like any other wasted emotion, we should try to walk in the other direction.

We can't help when some people talk bad, show their worse side or let their jealousies show. Learning to identify it can make it much easier to turn the other cheek. Competition is something we have to live with, not an excuse for bad behavior or turning on another human.

The way I look at competition is there is more than one company offering the same goods and/or services. If you're honest, offer a good product for a fair price, you can usually beat out the competition. It would be extremely difficult if everyone had this same idea of honesty. Choosing one good company over another entails a closer look at other details for them to consider, like location, relationships and experience. The more your competition is incompetent, and the more true your work is, the easier it is to be awarded the work over any competitor.

It's far easier and a happier life is led when you pay attention to what is in your own hands and your own responsibilities, rather than looking across at what other people may have.

THE DEFENSE RESTS.

2011-05-15T01:56:00.000-04:00

I am usually a very patient person. I have recently grown tired of defending myself. It's a terrible habit from a totally unbalanced childhood, but still find myself having to explain why I feel, how I react or when I speak of certain issues. In the past ten years, I've tried hard to keep the defense mechanism in check, but at times, some people just keep pushing for a reaction from me.

First, being a conservative Christian is not an affliction. It's my choice. I don't plan on changing my views, so it's no use explaining to me how wrong I am on my conservatism or Chrisianity issues. My ideals have been burned into me, not as a scar, but as a chosen way of life, which I depend on to make good and moral decisions in my journey through life. I take these values into the business world, as well as incorporating them into my personal life. I have walked away from particular people in my life, but not because they didn't agree with me. My circle is tightly closed because I tend to steer away from drama, anger and evil.

Second, just because I am a conservative does not mean I do not have compassion for the homeless, the environment or the economy. It does not automatically make me an unfeeling and cold hearted person of the world around me. I belong and live on this planet too, and have bore children, who will bear children, and would like my family to carry on in a beautiful world after I am gone. Hand in hand with my Christian faith, I have promised a tithe percentage to go to charity and help others here where I live and across the world. I also promise to hear of others' plights and be compassionate with my fellow humans and their strides. I help when I can, or when I'm allowed, and pray for them constantly.

Though I care of the endangered species list, whales being unnecessarily hunted, the oil crisis and the rain forests diminishing, we must find a way to balance everything. There are also people starving and dying from treatable diseases. If I support one or two causes, why am I wrong because I don't support the cause being pushed in my face?

Third, because I had to grow up with very little help in a tough situation explains my next point. I've had to figure most things out on my own, while others had loving homes with exceptional opportunities at hand. Because something doesn't go right, because you may have to work a little harder to achieve your accomplishments, a fact of life. It's not an exception to the rule for me. You always have to work hard to reach goals. Your not extraordinary, just normal. I am not luckier than others, but simply work a little harder and, therefore, things work out more often.

Next, please do not tell me how intelligent or gifted you are, at the same time telling me I'm stupid. On the contrary, some need to state it because they don't yet believe in themselves. Also, by telling me I'm not so smart only makes the distance greater between us.

Finally, if you want to know me, ask. Conversation about my ideals comes only from me; not others. Those people can only truly tell you about themselves; not about me. I've heard second hand gossip about myself or my family that just isn't true. If you're going to believe it, why should I take the time to straighten you out with the truth?

The defense rests.

Luck You !

2011-02-26T21:25:00.000-05:00

When things go well, some call it luck - especially younger or lazier people. Some call it being in the right place at the right time, which I think is still considered luck. Some think someone is smiling down from heaven, or it's the luck of the Irish or a good luck charm. It could be any or all of these things, but I believe in a good solid plan and hard work. Being industrious is what achieves goals. It sort of pisses me off when people just throw around the "luck" word.

It's easy to say it was luck, or fate. I know putting myself in a certain room was the free will and choice of no one but myself. Looking backward usually always puts things in proper perspective. In hindsight, if I would have postponed or canceled the doctor's appointment on the day he found my cancer, I would have had to hold onto some of the blame. I think everything is based on our free will, our choice to choose in any situation. With our freedoms comes responsibility to our own lives.

Here is one of my favorite stories I used to tell to a classroom full of eighth graders, while being a volunteer religious education teacher. I would begin by asking them if they could pray for an "A" on their next test in school. Some said yes; some of them said no. I told them they could, as long as they studied for the test and knew the material. They were, of course, disgruntled with my answer. I believe God watches over people who consistently do the right thing, so praying for the "A" would be alright, if you studied.

My example for this was an old man who would come into our Church and pray every week, "Please, God. I am on my knees begging - let me win the lottery. It's the only thing I want and the only thing I need." Each and every week, the old man was back at Church and on his knees with his prayer to God. After several months, God got impatient with the old man. One day, the roof opened up and a lightning bolt hit his pew. God answered the old man. "First, you gotta buy a ticket!!!"

We can ask and beg for others to help stop pollution, but first we should be recycling and being cost efficient in our own homes. We can ask our friends to help feed the poor, but only after our tithe is in the till. We can pray for many different horrific things to be different in this world, in our lives, but first we should take every action to back it up. If we don't take the initial step for the many things we want in this life, we are being hypocritical.

The best way to share a cause with me is to let me know how much you're in it for. What have you done to work toward the goal? I have a dear friend, for reasons I will not ask her about, who supports the MS Society. She believes in it with her whole heart. Her annual email asks for a contribution and I always give to it. To collect it, she rides 60+ miles on her bicycle to collect my donation. She believes in her cause enough to push her body to the limit. Being the same age, I know how hard she works to complete this race for her cause.

There are quite a few celebrities who support causes. Some are for good reasons and other are not. I don't bother with most of them, but a few I contribute to because they have put their money or talents where their mouth is. They support their charities enough to give of themselves or some of their proceeds go to their charity. It is much more believable when they "buy the ticket".

I am knee deep in the cause for the Haitian people. I will probably remain in support of them, down to my last dollar and prayer. The Medical Mission people are returning this evening, and I have thought about them all week. We have received short updates throughout the week, but only a minute of the events are retold. The few small tidbits of news we heard were terrible and some were hopeless. I know these people come back scarred with grace. They leave a chunk of them in Haiti, as I did, and there is no retrieving it or being the same person when you return. You are forever changed and because of these volunteers' actions, they are better people - more humbled and wanting to do more. Whatever they ask me for, I do everything I can to help them.

So call it luck, if you want. Call it opportunity. Call it anything you want to call it. But the ripple begins with one small stone. Success, world peace, a clean earth, and everything else in your heart can be hoped for in prayer. The first action toward the goals must begin with our action, even if it is a tiny step toward what we want to see happen. If we're not making life changes towards our prayer, the prayer alone will probably not work. We have to buy the ticket first.

Filtering

2011-02-10T11:38:00.000-05:00

The internet is fairly easy to use. Because our intelligence has caught up with technology, we have the easiest access to information than we ever had before. I remember going to the public library for books, music, and newspapers from different cities. With a touch of an application, I have it all in front of me. At any whim, when I'm the least bit bored, we can be reading in any place, at any time, and speak to people on the other side of the world.

I have set virus controls on to alert me when someone may be tampering with my information. Whether the information is personal or not, the information I claim is mine and defines who I am is being seen. It's impossible to block these people. We are the ones who decide to click or not to click on the man from Nigeria with a heartfelt story asking for money. We are the ones who pull up the reputable charity web sites and help Africa with our donations. Some will show you what you want to hear in order to get closer to your bank account. Others are actually helping the people who need our help. The clicks are our decision on who to believe and who is spam. There is no better filter than us.

Some information we gladly share. Unfortunately, most of the time it's our opinion - our judgments - our ideas of who we think other people are. A person writes something, usually the restricted 140 characters on where they are at any given time geographically, emotionally, spiritually or with work. Most may read them then go about their day; some leave comments that are kind and easy to read but, at times, others are more difficult to ignore. We have to make the decision to continue or click away from the "conversation". Again, there is no better filter than us.

The internet seems an easy to get to know a person. We can click on a Facebook profile, or a tweet, and with our ultra busy lives between appointments, family and traveling, we are able to squeeze time for a quick comment . It has created a false sense of security that we are developing a more personal relationship with these people. I still believe that one on one and in the room interaction is the best way to develop a relationship or make an existing one stronger.

There are the listeners out there too, who only read the content and barely have anything else to say back to you. We can not tell if they are listening after we post because we can not see them. After finding a few old friends on the internet, and living far away from them now, I have been able to reconnect with them. Several times, in person, they have mentioned a few things I have said, but have never commented on anything. However, without the personal interaction, I would have never known this.

I think we should treat it as any other media. On television, when we listen to critics of TV and movies thinking they should or shouldn't say certain things, because it can be heard by young ears, the answer is simple. Turn the television off. Do not take your children to the questionable movies. For living in a country with "freedom of speech", there seems to be very little of it in these two mediums. Put it on the internet, and it is a free for all. Anyone can say what they want, at any time of day, about anything. The only filter is ourselves to watch what we type and click it off if we don't like it.

Because one quotes Gandhi or Mother Teresa or scripture doesn't mean they are them, or raising themselves up to that level. They are merely trying to emulate a certain part of their lives for that moment in time, and passing along help to other people. Because it has a hint of religion, it could be taken wrong. There is no sense in getting mean or critical of one of these posts. Just scroll down, and in REAL LIFE, we would simply walk away, or graciously continue with the conversation. Because we can not see the other person's facial reaction or look into their eyes, some people become more brave and critical on internet postings and comments. They fail to remember if we were in a room with this person, their comments would never be heard.

Filters were basically designed to keep some type of pollutants on one side and keep impurities from tainting the other side. It's not hard to figure out.

**

Being Truthful

2011-02-01T02:00:00.000-05:00

To be clear, my last post was about a rejuvenated relationship in my life. I received a few comments and could not find the romance, nor the lost love, as noticed by a few. After reading my last entry, and knowing the true facts of this relationship, it made me smile.

I should have said that this person was a woman. I could have included a gender somewhere in the writing. Possibly, I could have shared this was my stepsister. It was funny to me how the truth was clouded by a few simple missing words. The love of my stepsisters run deep within me. I guess I should apologize, but it showed me something important about what I read and what I write.

News stories, political speeches and media opinions must all have some type of omissions which keep us from the complete truth. We tend to believe what we want to hear. I don't think we really care to hear the entire truth on any matter. There are as many opinions of the truth as there are readers.

At times, possibly our own experiences help us to hear a certain spin on the stories we read. They could help us to solidify our opinion of certain ideals, based on our lives or our beliefs. They may spin an opposition where we want to refute the story to make the author appear to be blatantly wrong on an issue. Stories can make us feel good or have a positive influence on us and stir up a loving memory of a person, time or place.

Though not all the facts are present, people are still worth being heard. We should try not to put other peoples' feelings aside. It helps us to understand each other better if we allow everyone to have an opinion, or to have a feeling about a story or broadcast. It's only until we begin to listen to each other that we become more tolerant. So much more could be accomplished, and solutions to problems could be made, if we listened more intently to the emotions of others. The real truth has little to do with it.

Apologies aside, I was smiled to think I made others smile. Though the truth wasn't completely in the writing, the conversations that followed were entertaining and pleasant.

Step 1 . . .

2011-01-24T01:04:00.000-05:00

I hate the uncertainty of announcing love for another person. It has always been a risk for me. There have been times when I’ve worn my heart on my sleeve to find out if the love is reciprocated. The older I get, the more of a chance I take on getting hurt. My wariness comes from past experiences of being disappointed.

Twenty years ago, a particular person and I had a very close relationship, and there was not a doubt of the love that flowed between us. The last time we saw each other, we cried together at a funeral. Last November, we saw each other again and spent an afternoon together. Unknown to us, we shared a mutual friend who made sure our reconnection meeting took place.

I walked into the small tavern and it was as though no time had passed at all since 1992. The years quickly melted away. We shared smiles and hugs and I must admit, I didn’t want to let go. We didn’t notice the lines around each other’s eyes or the gray, nor did we talk much about what has happened in our lives in the past twenty years. We held hands for the first half hour of the conversation, and we both seemed so excited just to be with each other again.

What I learned was both of us had the same trepidation, both being afraid of what each other thought and how it all ended between us. Looking back, neither of us had the correct chain of events. We were both misinformed by other people, and almost twenty years had been wasted on not really knowing the truth. I hate waste, but especially when it is time. There is never a way to get it back. It is gone forever.

It took a fluke chance of a mutual friend to pull us back into the same room, and now we begin again, vowing to each other never to lose or misplace our relationship again – no matter what happens, where we are or who we become.

The internet has made the grapevine thick. New events have happened this weekend that have made the wariness recur inside of me. Though I’m not exactly sure what to do next, I shouldn’t doubt the love. I will direct my actions with the only the love in mind.

I will take the chance and wear it prominently on my sleeve.

I Didn't Do It !

2011-01-12T12:55:00.000-05:00

“A rose is a rose is a rose” by Gertrude Stein says it all to me today. Things are what they are. And crazy is crazy is crazy. It doesn't matter what they were thinking at the time. If you try to understand, you are allowing the insanity to cross into your own mind. It's just best to mourn the loss, lock the crazies up, walk away and go into quiet prayer. Sometimes, there is no prevention or warning, and we just have to deal with the aftermath. Blame nor understanding does not play a part in this at all.

In America, everything seems like a huge political statement. There are so many variations of left and right, yet everyone is trying to define what is left and what is right.

My political points of view would appear to be right wing. I vote Republican because I understand the economic sense of the Republicans. Being a business owner for many years, I see the logical way of the tax laws and allowances the Republicans have for small business owners. This country was built and thrives on the small business sector, and with about 30 million small businesses, we have a right to a few things regarding tax laws in this country. Small businesses keep this country moving forward.

I am also pro life. I am not an extremist, and would rather quietly sit in prayer for the unborn, alone or with a group. I do not believe in clubbing baby seals and putting animals through horrific deaths. But first, I’d like to begin this idea with the human race. It seems a more simple and logical place to start.

I do not believe in capital punishment nor euthanasia. Being a victim does not give anyone the right to take the life of another. To me, it’s just another form of murder. After all, let’s not forget how Jesus died. It was capital punishment. It’s a good thing we don’t have a gold electric chair hanging from our gold chains on our neck, displayed at the altar or on our rosaries. The cross 2000 years ago was the same as the gas chamber, firing squad or electric chair.

I am Catholic and we believe in family values. We do not have the market on family values. Most people of practicing morales or faiths have these values as well. We want what is best for our families. It doesn’t always happen, no matter what we do or say, but we try. The mother hen trying to keep the chickies in line is a nonstop job, no matter how old they get. Any road taken to help to being a better, parent, friend or person should be taken.

I pray for the sick and the dead. I pray for people who don’t think they need God’s intervention. I help people who don’t realize the help is from me. I hope others are praying for me, as I need help on most days. I am not so ashamed of who I am and what I have done to ask for God’s guidance that I do not fully understand.

There are other issues where I would appear to be to the left side of issues. Severe contamination in this world has to stop, and (thankfully) our company has begun helping with a small portion of this situation. I have witnessed first hand at human rights conflicts, tyranny, greed and poverty in Haiti, and it affected me deeper than I ever thought possible. The health insurance crisis and economic times in this nation has had an direct impact on family members. Addictions of many variations are, and have been, fought with family members, and not enough of our country’s resources are being used in this area. The education system, from Pre-K to college needs to be revamped extensively. The arts have been forever forgotten and end up at the bottom end of the funds and attention, with the conservative thinking of music, art, dance and writing are expendable because they are the “extras” in life.

No one should define left and right, black and white, rich and poor. There should be no dividing line here in the human race. I am insulted people are trying to define who I am and what I represent. There are so many facets to each individual, we need to stop designating people into categories. Anthropologists use this concept, but it is because they do not have enough information. We have information on each other, we’re just not listening.

I believe we all have free will in life. No matter what life has given us, we still have choices to make. With today’s society, it seems like the choices are crossing lines. Some are justifying their decisions, no matter who gets hurt. To me, this is kind of crazy. I grew up with someone in my family with a mental illness. It’s not a pleasant experience. My human side wants to understand, only for the curiosity of it. Practically, I don’t want to understand these people at all. I feel if I understand them, I would understand insanity, then it would own it.

I have no idea why blame is being put on one side or another for a horrific crime one crazy ass person committed. We need to come together soon, and just realize it’s alright that we are all so different. There has got to be some common ground somewhere. I don’t know where it is, but maybe we should look at the path in front of us instead of left or right.

OLD & NEW

2011-01-10T05:10:00.000-05:00

2010 seemed like a long year. For business, it was filled with wonderful surprises that were only accomplished with some very long hours. The first of January each year, I read the corporate minutes from the year before, which are filled with high expectations and future goals for that year. This year, the review was astonishing. Not only were goals accomplished, but very much overachieved. Going back to school, even if only for 10 weeks, was a pleasant piece, yet exhausting. Looking back, it was the pivoting point of the year. It made me look at the marketing plan in my brain and forced me to write it out, share it and put it into action. Keeping focused is much easier now for 2011. Graduation from the year long Governor’s program is at the end of this month, and the program has put us in contact with so many more prospective clients and helped seal our current relationship with our main customer and mentor.

Expectations and hard work seem to be paying off with business, but in my personal life, it has been much more complicated. Though a few people would not agree with me, without God, I do not know how I could have made the personal decisions I have made this year. I have decided to take a higher road and look for forgiveness, and at first, it was not an easy task. I have found myself talking to God; not necessarily praying the same rote prayers nuns once taught me, but having real conversations. I must admit, it was difficult for me to be still and await His answers.

Forgiveness is a tricky issue, especially as I age. I tend to confuse it with forgetting. I cannot possibly forget, as some of the pain of my childhood remains with me, and every experience has made me the person I am today. Instead of being bitter or angry, I’ve decided to take the pain and not let it happen again with my family. If it all happened for the sole reason of breaking the chain, then this is what I will take away from the experience. It is painful at times, and I used to question my decisions. There are many people who do not understand this part of my life, nor the uncharacteristic behavior of my silence.

Simply, I have had four parents in my life. As of this year, three are now dead and one is fighting for sanity. The one parent left is the cause of the other three not fully understanding the love of their children, and the three of them died with uncertainty. Though this is a horrible way to live and die, I have to remember, though I am older now, that I was the child. I was the one who had two parents filled with hatred, greed and anger. The other two parents were frightened and kept away until I sought them out as a young adult.

Confusing, isn’t it? Throw in all the emotions of this mess and trying to figure it out was arduous. Add a trust fund, a few addictions and more bitchiness, then stir in a bit more of that greed and bitterness, and you have my family.

Here is what it has come down to and what I learned in 2010: Love conquers all. That’s it. Period. If love isn’t involved, neither am I. I cannot and will not be a part of anything without love. I shall never again question this decision. And with all this in my life, the only sound advice I have ever received was from God. He expects us to give love, so He can love us in return. It’s almost too simple.

I’m glad to put 2010 to rest – the good and the bad. I’ve borrowed a quote that sums up where I am today: “Onward and upward!”

: )

INFLUENCE

2010-12-11T13:56:00.000-05:00

So much has happened in the past year. To relive it here is fruitless, since I have not yet begun to digest everything myself. Writing helps me put everything in perspective. The highs were mostly business. The lows were entirely personal.

I've now realized my successes rely entirely on me - my actions, thoughts and planning. The low points in my life are dependent solely on how I react to people, situations, events and conversations. If I take the higher road, during these disappointing times, they do not cause as much pain. Though it sounds arrogant, my expectations of myself are high, yet I expect so much less from people.

Everything that has happened, has influenced me and my outlook on the present and the future. Wanting to change people or their feelings has been thrown out the window, as no one will see what I have seen because no one has walked my path. The most important lesson I have learned this year is an awful influence can be used as an example of what NOT to be in this world. Unfortunately, I have had quite a few, yet these have been the most powerful influences in my life.

I try to be opened to new ideas and new thoughts, but if the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, it's probably best to walk away. I have learned, over the years, to pay attention to these yellow flags, no matter what the outcome may bring. It has certainly taken awhile to get it through my head that love and loyalty can only survive when there is no pain.

Our society has a normalcy which expects us to behave in a way that doesn't raise anyone's eyebrows and have the gossip fence full of talk about you. I've also thrown this out the window too. The life I was given has been trying since 1964 and I have learned not to worry what everyone else thinks or says. Looking back over the years, my expectations for the world were low from age five, so disappointments seem easier for me to carry or overcome. High expectations seem to create deeper sadness when things don't work out like as anticipated.

It's nice to see my young adult children think that happiness could be a good job, married with 2.2 children, a nice home in the burbs with a white picket fence and a minivan in the driveway. I want them to think this way. I hope they're all successful with their plans of this type of happiness. Sometimes, it is best to just let them believe. Faith is a difficult line to cross with your own children. Though they have many traits of their parents, they have had their own path. We'd like to think we know their path, but we really do not understand every influence they have had in their lives.

Not knowing what is in store for tomorrow, I can not worry about what anyone thinks, the pain from the past, or the pain of the future. I have stood up for what I believe is right, and have not succumbed to the greed or bigotry. I can only work to preserve the love I have in my life now, and nurture and care for it. I can only go forward knowing I have kept my human feelings in tact, and have not swayed too far off the path, regardless of the temptations of human behavior.

Under the influence of horror came a scarred, yet resilient version. In hindsight, the decision to walk away was insightful and sound.

IF I HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT, I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU.

2010-10-25T13:23:00.000-04:00

Some people tend to laugh or snicker when another states they have a spiritual guide or spiritual adviser. I think all of us have some type of spiritual guide in our lives. Someone to show us right from wrong, good from bad, and help us make the right decision, whether it be Jesus, God, a friend, or someone we admire. As humans, we always seem to be wanting to make the right choices and look to others when we are at a crossroads. The angelic examples in people are everywhere, who help us reach for the higher good.

My spiritual guide flickers often. Sometimes they are the typical spiritual people; other times they are the ordinary people around us. Because I do not base my entire self on any one person or their actions, my spiritual adviser often changes.

We attended an annual charity event recently, and I found my spiritual guide to be a friend who has given his heart to Haiti. He selfishly has given his time, away from family and his career, his personal money, his mind and heart. He has even learned the language, so he can communicate better while there. I have never met someone so dedicated to any cause. For the past few years, I have silently watched and followed his actions, and have been amazed at the steps he has taken to help these people.

My immune system has kept me a prisoner from visiting Haiti again. I yearn to go back, but I'm not sure why, as the country is filled with pain, sickness and despair. I now quietly rely on my friend to go there and check on the piece of my heart that remains in Haiti. His eyes show me what I need to know. To reciprocate, I have found a small way to help him in his efforts.

No one knows what beats inside of me. There are very few people who realize why my heart aches or what makes me tick. Yesterday, I learned from yet another spiritual adviser this should make no difference in my life. I do not have to answer to fellow human beings. They are filled with fault, like me. They are filled with sins, like me. I should not put what other people think onto my shoulders. In the end, it doesn't matter, nor will it put me in a higher place when I leave Earth. What I do and what I accomplish is no one's affair but my own.

I can only do right and gain strength and righteousness, and be selective of my spiritual advisers here. I have to see the good and follow up with my actions. I can pick and choose what seems to be the right direction on any particular day, using a piece of goodness from someone when I see it. I can change my path and use smaller examples from anyone. Why I choose or who I choose is only what is important to me. I do not have to answer why of my actions to any other human. No other explanation to any other person is necessary.

ABNORMALITIES

2010-08-31T20:26:00.000-04:00

Most people do not realize how wonderful they have it. We take for granted the people, places and events that are supposed to happen to us. It's easy to do, especially in our society. We are supposed to have loving parents, a warm home and celebrate our families. This isn't always the case.

I feel I am more tuned into the parent/child relationships I witness because of my childhood. There is no denying that mothers and fathers are to love their children. After all, they are the ones who brought them into this world. They are the ones older, more experienced and wiser.

What happens when this does not take place? There are at least six different points of view, with six different paths, and six different lives. Personally speaking, I am one of those paths. Five of the siblings had the same abnormality in life, but not all have overcome and learned to live with this disability. My life is different from any of my siblings, though closest to one brother of mine who is very special in my life. The other three siblings may as well live in China. For the life of me, I can not even try to comprehend why, but only that it is the path they have each chosen.

The youngest brother (my half-brother) was the fortunate son, who had a different mother. He was the only one who had unconditional love in his home while growing up. A good mother can make a nightmare into a sweet dream, just by soothing the child. I think he realizes he had it good, and has shown empathy towards us. I'm glad he had better. He's since tried to reunite, and I should take him up on it. Life is short and we both loved Dad (my real father) so very much.

So the man who raised me (my stepfather), someone I thought was our Savior, ended up like my mother, filled with bitterness and bigotry. I couldn't hang on any longer. I couldn't hear what I had heard for so many years. I couldn't be called names, nor witness my children being in the line of fire. The memories of years of abuse have long been put into a corner, to sit and collect dust. The example left for me was not what to be, but rather what not to be. It certainly is sad to know people leave this Earth this way. Wondering if there is a Heaven is only part of it. To know you are leaving Earth with hatred, instead of love, is something I cannot and will not ever comprehend.

The rich man is gone now, a week ago last Friday. My brother and I did not make any attempt to say good-bye at the funeral services. It didn't take death to know he no longer heard us, no longer saw our tears, no longer could yell or strike us. He didn't love in life, and we had both said our goodbyes a few years ago. There seemed to be an unexpected newfound peace we weren't going to be hurt any longer. We were not going to make a showing for the others or for the heap of money left behind, but stand straight with what priests, therapists and true loved ones have told us over the years. No amount of love from us helped - it seemed to make the two of them angrier we were happy.

It is not for us to try to change the monsters. This is not the child's job to the parent. We are not responsible for their actions and beliefs. As adults and parents of our own children, it is up to us to dispell the bitterness, the past pain and the greed, and replace it with forgiveness, breaking the chain we have carried with us for so long.

My mother was never mentally well. We all knew this at a very young age. It worsened as we all got older. Now she is in and out of lucidity, but has yet to become a softer human being, still filled with malice. I find myself envious, at times, of friends with wonderful, loving relationships with their mothers. My heart aches a bit, because I have never had this and I thought this was supposed to be given to every child -- a loving mother and father. Parents to want the best for their children. Parents to love their children unconditionally. Parents to comfort and not to scare their children. Parents to love you, with no brutality or pain.

Again, I've learned by example of what not to be. I thank God for giving me the tools to realize the difference, and the kind people in my life's path to help me raise children so differently than my parents raised their children.

Still the sadness for him is like a dark cloud overhead. I've dissected it in my mind at great length. The sadness is separate from any grief. I have experienced and know what grief is. It saddens me because I feel sorry for him. Wherever he is headed, he must face the real Truth - not just what he thought was the truth. I believe he had to face complete honesty on his Judgment Day. It's just sad people have to live and die this way. I can't pretend to know what he said to God. I have to still believe there is good, there is forgiveness, there is love - even and especially at this moment for him. It's just sad.

My vow to my children has been reconstituted. No matter how old they or I get, we will be a family, protected in my little dome of comfort and love. None of them will have first hand experience with the "step" syndrome, nor will any of them ache for love from me. They will all know they are my children, and loved unconditionally, no matter where their lives take them, and without any doubts.

It seems so simple just to love.

GOOD THINGS COME TO THOSE WHO WAIT

2010-08-31T19:08:00.000-04:00

I know. The title here is pretty much a crock of shit I'm trying to pass on, and make it seem like I or this writing is worth the wait. Please don't get your hopes up. By the end of this note, I can surely say it may be a waste of time to read.

Just to clarify, it wasn't procrastination that kept me away from writing. It has been a whirlwind for me this year. In January, the company was awarded a prestigious one year mentor/protege opportunity. I have been following executives of major Georgia companies around, going to their seminars and schmoozing with the likes of Southern Company, General Electric, Home Depot, UPS, Turner/CNN, Coca Cola and a few more. The corporate world is a fantastic place to be, but only if your allowed on their side of the fence. We are not over there yet, but they are allowing me to peer into their corporate lives and learn from the best.

Yet, I have broken the promise to myself NOT to go back to the corporate world. Alas, I am back again. I didn't think they could teach me any new tricks, but I've learned so much, I can hardly compartmentalize all of the information that has been given to me to date.

Then in February, the doctor FINALLY put me into remission. After going through seven additional tests when my lymph nodes were swollen, the medical team in charge of my care thought my cancer had returned. Contrary to my biggest fear, the lymph nodes subsided after six weeks, and all tests came back negative. Whew! We also hired The Boy to help out with all the new marketing efforts we were taking on this year. Meeting more people, especially higher up on the ladder, meant we have to be on top of our game for presentations.

March brought on a trip to Key West with the four kids. Getting them in the same place for eight days was a feat, but after the near miss with my health, it seemed the right thing to do. I have vowed to keep them together and be sure to carve out special times with them all together. With the dysfunction I had as a child, and knowing these young adults are in a similar place, I've decided to make it much easier for them. They each come from different family situations, and each one has their own life experiences to add to the mix. My new promise is there will be no "steps" in this family. I have successfully created a dome of protection over them, and will continue with this effort.

April and May were months of meetings and presentations with our top customer in different locations. June brought a special trip to five new customers on the Gulf of Mexico, the exact date the oil spill hit the coastline. July and August consisted of more strategies, office work and seminars. For each appointment we made this year, a couple hundred hours of work went into it. The Boy definitely has a knack for this marketing gig. He not only knows how to write competently, but effortlessly too. We've been very impressed with his addition to our team.

I have been writing, but privately. This place keeps me consistent. It makes me think before I react. Some come to read to see what I have to say, but I do not write to educate about life, me or anything really. I write to purge, then to line up the good that is left. It helps to keep me in line with my life, and to keep going with what remains to be accomplished, with a clearer mind.

I'M TELLING MOM!

2009-09-28T14:14:00.000-04:00

In these days, there are many different types of family units. I have seen different ethnicity and colors, dual religions and even bilingual. I know of families that are gay and straight. I've seen some married and some not. I've seen biological children and adopted children. I know of extended families that get along well, though mine does not. I've seen so many different combinations of a family unit, I could not begin to tell which ones are classified as normal.

Personally, I came from a family unit, which is very different and not any sense of normal, though this is being as nice as I can be. To be honest, it is one messed up chunk of dysfunction. I have spent the past year trying to find forgiveness for a life time of hurt and memories, through a professional, my faith and writing. Having to struggle in childhood was just the beginning. Rethinking the pain and transferring it into something positive, while working on forgiveness, has been extremely difficult for me personally.

Besides the rest of life happening around me, the most important priority has been the kids. Raising them has been more of a challenge for me, because I did not have the proper tools to begin with. These tools are generally passed down, without fail, from the parents to the child. Since these were totally backwards or nonexistent, I had to begin from scratch.

I've learned to pay close attention to people with children of the same age as mine, or older, and watching the interaction. It's been one of the best ways of learning how to be a good parent. Unbeknowst to them, I have paid close attention to their lives. I know I have probably made many more mistakes than these other parents, but I keep trying to learn. Even though my kids are older, I still have to be a parent, adapting to whatever is happening in their lives, trying to be understanding, loving and supportive. I still learn from the parents around me, and sometimes, have to carefully ask questions. Some may think I am questioning their parenting skills, but I assure you, it is for me to learn because I still don't think I know what the hell I'm doing.

Recently, we have been told of some events going on in our extended family, and it was my job to have a connversation with my kids. Unfortunately, they have been witnesses to some "unfamily-like" behavior. There are some in the extended family we choose to have a relationship with, and there are a few we do not.

I thought I had been struggling with forgiveness. The Boy and I were talking about the updates last week. After years of protecting The Boy and The Baby's feelings on the subject, I immediately went into a somber attitude. He caught me off guard, and was laughing about all of the characters. There is the the bully, the bigot, the drunk, the gambler and the absolute crazy one. Most of these people think I should be in their lives because of a boat load of money, kind of a heredity-extortion plot. He laughed and got me to realize how ridiculous everything was. When he repeated what I had originally told him, I heard the absurdity in the story. We laughed for quite awhile about it.

He went further, and explained how lucky I was that I got my life together. He thanked me for watching over and loving The Baby and him over the years. There are two very important ideas that came to light over my conversation with The Boy.

The first thing was The Boy congratulated me for finally finding forgiveness. He said in the past, I would have given him the details of the family with anger or tears. I didn't do that this time. This was the first time I had laughed about the pain and the past. He said my heart unknowingly found forgiveness, and I should grow stronger with the smiles, instead of the tears.

The second lesson learned was my child taught me something valuable. After all these years, I had gotten so used to the role of being the teacher, I had forgotten I can sometimes be the student. He is an intelligent and faithful man - no longer a boy. He can see things from a different perspective as another adult, and I had not given him credit for being an equal, until now.

It felt as though some of the load was lightened. We all have past experiences, some more horrific than others, but it belongs to us alone. Our baggage is always with us, picking up even more weight along the roads of our life. It's up to us to lighten the load, to take the crap out of the suitcase, dispose of it properly and keep with us the fondest of memories. The memory is still there, but the load becomes easier to bear, and left in the baggage, is something we actually want with us on our journey.

I have spoken with all the kids this weekend, in one way or another. I wished the oldest a happy first anniversary online this morning. I remembered so well the wonderful beach wedding a year ago. Love was everywhere, and she was so beautiful. I saw The Boy and his girl in the rain at the Festival. Licking his wounds from his pride on another matter, was hard to witness, but he waved and mouthed I love you from the rain as we pulled out. The Baby has called a few times today, just because I think she misses me. I'll have to visit her this week and get a hug.

There is no comparison to what I had to what we've built with these three wonderful ADULT children. It keeps growing and getting better. I am happier today. I am blessed.

T M I ! ! !

2009-09-28T14:13:00.000-04:00

There seems to be a steady flow of information being given to me. Suggestions and ideas I've received lately has, and is currently turning into profitability and widening business aspects. I have no complaints with this type of information. Every detail is being disclosed, so absolute decisions and committments can be made. If more business information is needed, it is gladly given or explained.

As I get older, I feel my brain has a certain capacity for remembering things, items, events. If I pack it in too much, something will fall out of my brain storage, which is why I forget things. Lists and a tight calendar have helped, but it is inevitable I will still forget, when asked to retain so much information for others.

There has been recent information given to me, I have no idea what to do with. Last night, a woman gave me too much of her personal information, including visuals I can not seem to shake out of my head. I guess my facial expression was of shock, because I stuttered when I responded back to her. There is no real use for this information, but to "unknow" it is now impossible. It is cluttering my mind, and seems a waste of my useful brain space.

There is other information that was given to me yesterday, and I was asked if I could help decipher and make sense of it. Again, I did not know how to react. I stuttered again, in disbelief of what I was hearing. This time, I had enough sense to ask for more information and have time to think about it. Today, a few things slid into place, and all parties agreeing more communication is needed to settle the situtation. Still cluttering my mind, this situation needs further exploration, so I don't mind storing this in my brain space.

There is, yet another person, asking for information, but being elusive on what exactly she wants from me. Skating around for information is the worst for wasting brain space, because until all sides are heard, my decision will never be made. When asking for more information, a promise of more exact details is given to me, but still, she wants a firm committment from me. I can and never will understand this, as I see it as a way of manipulation. Now, in my overly cluttered mind, again I have to waste my brain space, to retain information I could care less about.

It has been a very frustrating week with information, but also a week filled with love and wonderful memories made. These new memories deserve and will receive my prime brain space. I will try to unremember the useless bullshit, and gladly make room for these amazing times and memories.

I just don't know how to go about unknowing the known. Maybe the invention of a mind filter would make life easier, where we can get rid of useless information. Images from horror movies, nonsensical crap from others and people scratching their asses in public would be at the top of my list for my mind filter. Left behind in my brain would be awesome business ideas, amazing memories of loved ones, new songs from favorite artists and the taste of chocolate.

Attraction Versus Detraction

2009-09-28T14:12:00.000-04:00

Negative and positive energy is absolutely in the universe, especially this week. We have all felt it with two magnets. It's not something we can necessarily see, but we feel it all over our lives.

I look forward to hearing and witnessing the music tonight. It's going to be amazing to celebrate a friend and listen to the incredible talent God has given him. Surrounded by love, it will be difficult for negativity to slither its way in. Though, personally, it will be there with one person on the guest list. I've got to be as nonchalant as possible. (For me, this is difficult at times.)

RT is aware of the tiny dilemma that may occur, but, at his suggestion, I'm to handle it quickly, precisely and then walk away. It is to be a "one on one" and I am to be stealth about it, and in his words, "nib it in the bud". We've planned it down to one sentence. (LOL! A man of few words comes in quite handy, at times.) Neither of us want anything to detract from the wonderful man, his celebration, nor this beautiful night that has been planned. I've been put in charge, because RT will be playing all evening, and he wants me to be prepared.

With the feeling in the room, there will be no other attitude from me, except the constant flow of love from a crowd of awesome people. Some I admire, some I love dearly, and most everyone else I don't know as well, there will be a huge cloud of kindness. Filled with the music of talented musicians and singers, there is only one way to go, because of the energy.

I am to be the positive side of the magnet, bounce off the negativity and stick onto a solid piece in the room afterward. The higher road has a magnificent view.

ADDEN-DUMB

2009-09-28T14:10:00.000-04:00

She's gaining on me. I hear the file sliding across her nails, honing them to points. The creaks in the floor tells me her steps are getting closer. My intuition is dead on this time.

It has been a very busy month, and there is no free time in sight, unless I come here very late, when the world is at rest. The quiet, darkness in the night, gives me time to think and observe, without distractions. In certain situations, to be correct is not necessarily good. You know what is coming. You feel the shudders, and hear the whispers behind you. This particular F.E. does not realize there are people more intuitive, smarter and more aware than herself. Fortunately, she showed her true colors to others I trust. The original maybes have turned into facts before our eyes and in our ears.

Oh dear! After all my efforts the past year to behave, and now, my dander is up and my feathers are ruffled. I have until Friday to find the words - ones that will be firm to her, yet gentle enough not to have too much of the inevitable gossip to follow. It is almost like a form of emotional extortion. I thank Mr. Heller for his description of logic without resolve, because I am damned if I do, and damned if I don't.

I can not hide, nor meld into the crowd, nor ignore. I am being sought. Considering my choices, is speaking the only way? Could I listen to whatever is said, and simply get up and walk away without a word spoken? This way seems so impolite, but may be a way out.

As I find the courage to stand up for myself (AGAIN), I look behind at the scars from the past. Uggghhh! Here we go again. I must find the right words -- ones that are definitive, so she will be at a more comfortable distance.

BEWARE OF FEMALE EXTREMISTS

2009-09-17T16:31:00.001-04:00

It’s absolutely ridiculous how extreme females can be at times. Some days, I just can not muster enough strength to excuse or defend a few of my fellow species. The difference between male and females seems divided by a fence.

To put it simply, healthy women are emotionally connected to everything. Healthy men are logical and practical. This is the biggest difference between male and females, and if we would just take a peek over the fence, we would see this easily. However, with everyone in this world, there are extreme cases on both sides. There are very few men I’ve met, that are ultra sensitive and will show their emotions. There are a few, but they seems very rare. There are women who are only connected emotionally with herself, making this rarity a female extremist. They give our species a bad reputation, and makes defending ourselves more difficult.

Extremists cause disruptions, and make the rules rapidly change. For example, extremists have given us tightened security at airports, train stations, subways and any other place there is a large group of people traveling and shuffling about. Rules had to change and change very quickly, to assure safety and prevention for future events. This was not a large group of people who made us change these policies, but just a small group of extremists.

Another example of extremists are the idiotic people who do crazy ass things, like taking your hair dryer into the bath or swallowing a huge gulp of hot coffee from McDonalds. Now there are warnings and labels on products for these extremely stupid people. The detailed instructions are being passed along to the 99% of the population, who are competent and, er, smart. These changes from the small population of extremists make products more expensive and a pain in the ass to use.

Extreme women are the worst. Though few in number, they can be pointed out easily by most fellow women. Men have a more difficult time identifying them, and just like being lost, would never ever ask for directions. Female extremists, to say it simply, want everything they want. They don’t care how they get it, as long as it is theirs in the end. Their ultimate goal is for everyone to think they are as great as they think they are. When the war is over, the extremist walks away and the bodies are counted, and the rest of the female population must clean up the carnage and change the rules. It’s a matter of self preservation for the future.

I think this is why women confuse men so much. On any given day, the old rule is thrown out and a new rule takes its place. Sometimes we share why; sometimes we don’t; most of the time, men could care less. It’s really not our fault though. The women reading this, who understand what I am saying, are part of the 99% smart women out there. The few female extremists would not waste their time here anyway, nor would they really care what I said. As long as they get what they want in the end, nothing here would be worth the time to read.

I know of a few, and have learned to identify them and keep my distance. They really don’t know who they are, because I’ve never pointed my finger at them, mentioned them by name, nor have spoken to them about this personally. Nor would they care what I think. However, as you can probably tell, there is an female extremist currently in my life, that I must deal with and speak to now.

Before I can take the step back, and put that much needed distance between us, I need to be sure it actually is a F.E. If I get to close, I’ll be sucked into the nasty mess of gossip, self centered attitude and I’ll be looking straight up her turned up nose. By being close, I also risk being a target myself. This is very much like a horrible accident on the highway. We slow traffic down to a crawl, just to get a look at any blood, gore or a head rolling around the embankment. As soon as we see it, we’re shaken up and wish we hadn’t witnessed what we had seen. It’s best to keep your eyes straight, do not look and keep going at your normal speed.

I also know a couple of men who are married or are with a F.E. Ugghh. You can’t say anything, because love is blind, deaf and stupid. In these few cases, a fellow male can and will usually spot it, but, alas, says nothing either to his friend. It’s just a matter of the man victim finally reading the detailed instructions, and no longer taking the dryer into the bath for his daily shock.

I don’t really know what I am going to do yet, but I guess I will sit back and observe. I will watch while I keep my distance. It’s best to keep the information to yourself on who it is, but all the symptoms are there. She says her kids do no wrong, she proclaims to have the best life, job, etc., and everything she touches is perfect. Yet, I hear her snickering and whispering behind me, while sharpening her dagger. With a smile on her face, the nails come out and the attack can take place at any time. It makes me shudder to be this close.

Rules change for extremists. Sometimes the reasons behind the changes do not seem reasonable to others, and you may think new rules are inconvenient, overboard or even a bit silly. To the victims, the change in the rules are overdue. It just depends what side of the fence you’re on.

LEARNING ABOUT CRAP

2009-09-12T14:19:00.000-04:00

The longer we live, the smarter we get, if we allow it. Experience says so much about someone’s life, and the older they get, the more I seem to intently listen to them. I had the pleasure of reading someone’s blog who is over 90 years old. You wouldn’t think this was possible, as we all know people in our younger age group, who have trouble turning on a computer. This particular person, however, has wanted to keep up with technology, and probably feels he still has something to say. I want to listen and learn from him. He is wise; he has life experiences like few others; he has insight I want to have because of what he has seen, lived and felt; he is lucid and aware of where the world is now. He can compare to other times in our history, which has helped him share with us. I look forward to what he has to say.

Our growing and learning as we age, is our prerogative - our choice. There are some who don’t ever learn more or correct their misguided paths, because they think their way is the correct way. Although I realize all people are not of my faith, I have tried to follow the steadfast rules of organized religion to aid myself on my path. (Again, I revert back to my thoughts, in a previous writing, of organized religion versus unorganized religion.) Organized religions have shown us the same basic concept of how to treat other people. Every one of the world’s faiths has shown this to us, and to remind myself, I will periodically pray or think of these tried and true concepts.

For awhile, it was The Ten Commandments. Most think these are simple rules to live by because they don’t steal, they don’t murder, they love God -- simple, right? For instance, “Thou shalt not steal” (#7) means more than mere stealing. To me, I ask myself if I’ve pissed away idle time while I am supposed to be working. It’s difficult to win an argument with my boss, because I am the boss. However, when I need to be working to help supply our home with income, I should be concentrating on work. Did I put materialism before the needs of my family, and spend hard earned income selfishly?

“Thou shalt not kill” (#5) would seem to be an easy one to adhere to. No murdering going on here. But I take it a step further and ask if I killed anyone’s spirit, injured someone with my words or actions, or hurt my life, marriage and parenting. Have I been angry about others, or have been judgmental, and killed their endeavors with my words, thoughts or actions? With my personal definition, I have broken this commandment over and over again.

Lately, the concept I’ve been trying to incorporate into life are the Corporal Works of Mercy. No need to Google it, here they are:

“To feed the hungry. To give drink to the thirsty. To clothe the naked. To shelter the homeless. To visit the sick. To visit those in prison. To bury the dead.”

It seems easy, but again, not as easy as you think. I struggle with these because I am so wrapped up in my own life, there seems little left of me emotionally to try with any of these. If I could get through Commandment #7, and quit pissing idle hours away, maybe I would have enough time and energy for helping others. I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m trying.

I chose to learn and make myself a little better person, but it is up to my mind - my free will. I can not take responsibility for others, but I can begin here - with myself. It doesn’t matter what I say, do or think, as long as I am right with Him. I can, if I chose, to explain myself to others, but in the end, I will only have to be responsible for me and only me, so I can have my sit down chat with the main guy up there. I can’t be concerned with whatever others think of me, and need to concentrate on the mess I have made in my own corner. It will probably take a lifetime of cleaning, because I keep messing up.

I’ve recently been taught I must take it a step further. I need to learn from my previous actions, and previous situations I have been involved. I must take these unpleasant experiences, some way, some how, and turn them into something better. Even if there is pain associated with remembering or reliving them, there is always something to be learned. While walking through a cow pasture, it only takes one misstep to never to do it again.

This pasture of life is a little tricky. I wish my mistakes and regrets were as easy as cow shit, but I seem to keep putting my foot in the piles. If that wasn’t bad enough, that same foot ends up in my mouth, on occasion. Ewwww!

FOREVER SMILING

2009-08-28T08:43:00.000-04:00

At some time in our lives, most of us have wondered about Heaven. We don’t know what it’s like because no one has ever reported back to us. In our society, unless we hear or see something, it is not true. Imagining what Heaven is like can be an endless source of thought and entertainment for me.

There is the obvious thought is usually: Heaven is where good people go when they die - the good that lived on here on Earth. This would probably include saints, certain peacemakers, like Dr. King or Gandhi, and an incredible amount of everyday people, doing the right thing each day. We would think Hell would be reserved for the likes of Hitler, serial killers and rapists.

I think we all get a chance at Heaven, and if we realized this, our life’s decisions would be quite different. There is a possibility psychopaths or sociopaths have apologized and God thinks that is enough. Our idea is that God knows all, so wouldn’t He know when someone is truly sorry for their deeds? I wonder if it is possible God would allow us to see the “truth” as He sees the truth, and if we get to fully understand where we went astray. If this is the case, we all end up there, but really do not want to come back to Earth, and this would explain no further information given to us by people who have passed. Everything is pleasant and everyone has changed for the better, and we’re finally where we should be for eternity.

I wonder if a father who deserted his children will have to explain, in order to gain access into the Gates. I wonder if Apollo had more or less leeway when he went up, or anyone else married or related to an accomplished person. I wouldn’t think there would be nepotism in Heaven, because it’s a fair and just place. We all stand on our own deeds, actions and words from our lives on Earth.

Some believe there is a stop in purgatory or limbo, before being able to go to Heaven. With a life of nuns and the Catechism, this was a difficult concept for me when I was young. What do you mean, if I’m good, I still have to go there? What the hell? No, did I say hell -- I meant heck. In my mind, I think Purgatory is a place to stop and watch a complete recording of your life. They sit you in a chair and you have control of the remote. You are allowed to fast forward through the good times, if you choose, but for the bad days, you have to relive and watch, until the correct answer strikes you. This concept could work, because this means innocent babies would receive immediate access to Heaven. The demented and gruesome would have to sit through their acts, over and over again, until they saw the error of their ways. Only love would be the correcting force for us to get out of the chair, give the remote back to St. Pete, and walk toward the Gates.

Would He greet us when we got there? Since He can appear to be anything or anyone He chooses, this could be a lot of fun. (We’ve all seen His sense of humor in our lives.) For bigots, He could appear to be the racist’s opposite color. For atheists, He could appear to be Jerry Falwell. For narcissists, He could appear to be the narcissist themselves. For the people who always think they’re right, it could be Flip Wilson as the Judge from Laugh-In. The possibilities are endless.

Some will gain admission for what they gave to others; some their intelligence; some for using their time and gifts wisely; some for changing for the better. We will all have to answer the inevitable questions, and come up with some good answers too. We probably can not lie or bend the truth here either. The actual will be the factual, and most of us realize what our list of questions will sound like.

The only other thing I’ve wondered about Heaven is I don’t know if there are any jobs to do there, or if we just sit around talking. Some people never use their God given talents on Earth for a variety of reasons. These people don’t even know where their talents lie, but muddle through life taking care of what they think they’re supposed to be doing. Work, responsibilities, and sometimes, dumb luck get in the way of our gifts or the things we truly love to do. We know Heaven is filled with our favorite musicians, artists and movie stars. Are they working their craft there, as they did on Earth? God, I hope not for some of the B-List. I don’t want to name names because I don’t care for hate mail. There is always a fan, no matter what I think. Without the mediocre though, we would never be able to identify the great talented ones, so I guess the B-List has their place too. Then there are the talented we have yet to hear or see their works on Earth. I don’t think my current profession would do too much good in Heaven.

Which brings me to the job I want in Heaven. With severe stage fright, the piano is out, and the only other talent I have is tasting wine. On Earth, with human imperfection, there is good and bad wine. In Heaven, there is probably only good wine. What I think I’d like is to be a part of the laugh track team. The people who giggle hysterically on cue when He needs to get others to laugh at themselves or at His jokes. Yup! Smiles for eternity. : D

ONWARD AND UPWARD

2009-08-27T20:58:00.000-04:00

I’ve moved beyond hurt feelings now, because they are a waste of important energy. It was also pointed out, by someone who does not know me personally, that I should love the people who treat you right and forget about the ones that don’t. It’s absolutely the best advice I took in this past week. So it’s now onward and upward to the better parts of life.

I am looking forward to this weekend, and catching up with people from my high school years. Living out of town for the past 25+ years, I have only been able to reconnect with some on line. This is something we all must face during our life. We’ve had to face it sooner with the internet and social networking available now. Our faces are plastered on the web, along with our personal information. Though I still feel 17, the reflection in the mirror casts a more realistic truth. However, this will not stop any of us this weekend. We will all revert back to the teenage girl attitudes with make up, clothing and cliques. The boys will act cooler, and more aloof, as they did way back when. LOL! I can’t wait!

So, after all of these days past take place, I line up expectations and hopes for a great time. With all of the girls’ reversion to seventeen, there will be cattiness, bragging rights and stuff you just can’t unknow. Who slept with whom, how much surgery some have had, and deeper details of lives, will be the gossip for the evening. The memories are more difficult to discuss because we are all much older, too many things have taken place in our lives since then, and most importantly, we were all high in some way in the early and mid 1970s. This was back in the days when a nickel bag was $5 and the lower drinking age was merely going over the bridge, across the Mississippi River. The old memories tend to get a little murky.

If you think the old school yearbooks help, they do not trigger the memories either, especially when you read what your old classmates wrote. One boy, Joe, wrote “I wish you would have gone to the Lynyrd Skynyrd concert with me.” I have NO IDEA what I was thinking back then!

Then it will be onward to Aunt and Uncle’s house. My cousin and her family live in the same town too, so it will be a very nostalgic walk with old and fond memories. Sunday morning, I will go to Mass, eat breakfast, have a massage, then get on the road to see Aunt and Uncle. My visit is long overdue, and must put them on the rotation to visit every three to six months. Since The Baby is older now, and everything seems in order (for now), I will keep up with the visits to the wonderful people in my life. There is a three hour drive, so there will be plenty of time to recuperate from the prior evening.

I am looking forward to the month of September. So many things are planned with so many fine people I truly love. There may be some memorable times to drop off and other new ones to pick up. Now I realize the advice was so true, and could not have come at a better time for me - the people to spend time should be selected from the group who treats you right.

TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF LIES

2009-08-25T16:30:00.000-04:00

(I apologize in advance if this sounds confusing. I just had to sort things out.)

There is no way that we can know what is best for us. Pride and stubbornness sometimes gets in the way. If we take what we know, from life, our gut feeling or intuition is not necessarily something we can depend. Once in awhile, it gets cloudy, and it takes a step back to access the situation.

There is something brewing now, and I’m not sure what to do, or if I should do anything at all. It is a very detailed story, and goes back through so many lives, but has affected different people in very different ways. Some are trying to cover up, and pretend it doesn’t or didn’t exist. Some have faced it with the same mistakes made in their own lives. There are a few who walked away completely, knowing it was a waste of more life to try to convert a bad energy into a good one. I’m sure this is sounding confusing, but it is the only way I have to make it more cathartic, and to help me sort out some things.

After much more thinking and discussing with people close, I have come to realize there is a vast difference between good and evil, and there is no gray area. If people do not tell the truth, or be honest with themselves and others, shit rolls into their life. There are some who continue with masks and facades, without knowing they are doing anything wrong. There are some who want to show the world they have perfect lives, when they actually live two different lives. The lies catch up to everyone, and without realizing that even a subtle change towards good can make all the difference in the world, they continue on building lies upon lies. Soon, it gets contorted and a messed up version of the truth, until no one can distinguish between the two.

It’s just too much to keep up with. We all have crap we must deal with, and some days, it’s a lot to bear. But with strength, determination and honesty, I believe we can overcome the bad and turn the energy into good. Without exception, facades are no more than lies we are living, and lies must be overturned into truths - God willing, one day.

I have a person in my life, whom I love dearly. He has overcome sadness, and with a truckload of good in his heart, he was and is determined to find the love and good in everything around him. I am so lucky to have him share with me, because I don’t think I ever would be who I am today without him. Even as children, he taught me so much, and still look to him for guidance. Recently, a piece of advice from him has stuck with me. If it is good, leave it alone and go on your way, continuing with the good in your life. If it is bad, leave it alone and go on your way. We can not go back and change others, but we can take the good forward and leave the bad behind. So I now look back, and once again, try to pick and choose the good in someone else’s pile of shit.

It used to be very difficult for me to do this, but as I go forward, the good outweighs the bad in every circumstance. Truth forever will reign over evil. The hard part is to remind yourself of this every day. You would think it is a simple statement most people believe, but that isn’t necessarily the case. Too many contradictions can make you question the easiest belief.

I will be traveling soon, and with every single minute of planning this trip, something has happened to change plans. Every small event has become a monster problem to decipher. After each notation or correction is made on the itinerary, it becomes clear to me I’m being guided through this. Everything is happening for a specific reason, and there is a more powerful hand swaying me into a different direction, in every aspect of the trip. I’ve come to realize the importance will be with the two people I will see at the end of the trip. The directions I choose to make, keep changing back to the visit of these two people. When I add or change something, God is steering me back to them.

When do we give up to fate or God’s hand? It is something I’ve relinquished in the past, always reluctantly, until now. I will go where it is important for me to be. I have no idea why yet, but I have faith it will be known to me soon enough. I will go towards the good.

~~sigh~~ I feel much better.

WOMEN VOTERS

2009-08-23T01:52:00.001-04:00

There are many things I am passionate about, but there are many things I am totally unconcerned about. The economic crisis is and example of this side saying that the other side is wrong, and vice versa. To be honest, there is not a party system that will work for this country, because they are dividing our nation incorrectly.

If you really want to win an election, divide the parties into male and female. Everyone knows who would win. Most women do not want to run for office, because, in the long run, it doesn’t really matter. Women have been running everything on Earth for so long, a title just would not impress us. Continue the pretending, and someone else can be called President.

Most of the time, women are the ones wiping asses, noses and tears. We are trained and it exists in most of our intuition to take care of defenseless creatures as babies. Most of the time, it’s women that are holding the dying person, nurturing and caring for them. The male nurses in this country are rising, and now at a mere 6%. It is not because the opportunity does not exist for males, but it is not as natural. In our country, only 3% are male homosexuals, and of those men, only about 12% are parents. Nurturing can take place in either sex, but women have the statistical percentage down pat. Our natural roles are to be caregivers.

If politicians could easily win elections if they put an emphasis on the female voters. It doesn’t matter if they are poor or rich, conservative or liberal, married or single, old or young, and cross all color lines. If there was a clear speaking sincere person, running for office, interested in the woman’s point of view, the election would be a incredible landslide.

So, if this is so clear cut, why hasn’t anyone figured this out yet? Because most of the politicians running for office are men. They care about titles, power and telling people what to do. It’s how the world has been run for many thousands of years, and will probably continue. They are the starters of war, rulers of most lands and controllers of most businesses. There is no changing, nor denying, the basic instincts in either sex.

As far as titles, women have many titles we are known by, including the bullshit about changing our name when we marry. Additional notation: we also have to change from Miss to Mrs. - men get to keep Mr. forever. We have so many titles, the list would be endless to cite here. Men have Dad (only if they are an active participant) and whatever they do for a living.

We don’t want the same power that men seek either. We have the power. Men just don’t realize it yet. We are the ones making the economy go up and down, and if you don’t believe me, look at the statistics on what items a woman purchases versus what a man purchases. We tell you where to live, how many kids, where we send them to school, what you should wear, don’t wear Old Spice, zip your zipper, tie your shoe, change your tie, hit the toilet this time, blah, blah, blah. This list is endless too. We control everything! If you don’t believe this, ask your mother, wife, girlfriend, sister or daughter.

Which brings us to what a politician’s campaign promises would be to clinch the female population in the voting booth. Here are just a few items to get our attention:

Outlaw pantyhose. No further explanation needed, unless you’ve never had to wear a pair of these blasted things. If you have never had the pleasure, I suggest trying it just after shaving your legs when you get out of the shower.
Do not make us pay for Midol, Pamprin, Advil or any other pain relievers. The smartest Federal Health Care Plan idea yet. Think hard about this one, boys, before you laugh.
Send each child in America to work on a mission trip to a third world country for two weeks while they are 12 to 14 years old, and this should be mandatory. Not only would this stop the ungratefulness, and give parents a two week break, but would probably make a huge leap for poorer nations. The philanthropy and kindness would carry on for generations to come.
Any man convicted of abusing a woman or child, in any way, should have a toe whacked off. Try to explain that when you’re jumping in the sack with a girl.
Give women an incentive for being a housewife, and put the dignity back into taking care of man, kids and home. Make it a proud profession again, instead of a shameful “I’m a stay at home mom” thing. Bullshit! These women should be praised much more than our society is giving them.
Every OB/GYN and mammogram technician MUST complete 50 hours of courses on compassion, and two hours on how to warm your instruments.
Change the unwritten rules of society, like having a woman’s blouse, size 10, cost twice as much to get dry cleaned than RT’s XXL shirts, with TWICE the cloth.
We do not want coupons for toilet paper or fabric detergent. We want coupons for manicures, wine and chocolate. Subsidizing these items to poor women, or women with more than two children or two husbands. It could be paid by the federal government, sort of like Cash for Clunkers, except we could call it (manicures) Mannies for Nannies, (wine) Consign the Wine or (chocolate) HER-SHE. Again, think about it before you laugh.
Instead of a blood test, to get the couple ready to marry, the bride’s birthday should be tattooed on the groom.
Football, baseball, NASCAR races and all other sports need to switch spots with the daytime soap operas. Women can lay on the sofa every weekend, catching up, while the man sets the DVD during the week.
Passing gas in public, in any form, should be outlawed, and considered pollution.
Mandatory hearing aids for men at the age of fifty.

One of the most important promises would be to tell us we are appreciated. This one is overlooked by most every man, in every profession. The only time I’ve publicly heard a general thank you to all women was from a parish priest during a homily. Pretty sad, that the only man to say it aloud, is unmarried and celibate, but not surprising.

There has been, at least, one day in your past that a woman has wiped your ass, and God willing, that day will come again. Be nice to women. It’s really not that hard to figure it out. After reading this, if you still can’t figure it out, run for office.

P.S. I apologize if I’ve offended any loving man here. It will not be long before I am ratting out my own species.

MAKING RESERVATIONS

2009-08-22T02:38:00.002-04:00

I have no legitimate excuse. I have been telling myself, and the ones close around me, that I have been too busy to make the phone call. I tried to dissect my psyche to see why it was so difficult for me, but could not come up with an honest answer. I absolutely love my aunt and uncle, probably much more than they realize.

This is the Aunt who was my surrogate mother. The one, throughout my life, who knows me - really knows me - from the beginning to now. The one who I trusted my young woman confidences to, and she never broke them - not a single one. And if she did, she would have been right to do so, and I would have not been pissed at her. Choosing me as a favorite from the many nieces and nephews, her love for me never once wavered, no matter what a little shit I was or how much trouble I caused. She had always, with no exception, accepted me for me. I love her dearly for this.

Her husband, my uncle, was always a favorite of mine too. When I was a little girl, I thought he looked very distinguished. He is first generation immigrant from Croatia, when the old Croatia existed. (Then it became Yugoslavia, then Croatia again, then Yugoslavia again, and now we’re back to the original Croatia. No, I was never a whiz in geography, but kept up with it because of Uncle.) He was tall and slender, with dark hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. Never had I heard him yell, as he is low keyed and laid back. His extensive cancer battle has been ongoing for about twenty years. No matter which cancer has been thrown at him - pancreas, bone marrow, lymph node, leukemia - he’s been able to fight it and come back. Radiation, chemotherapy, medications nor death sentences have ever broken his spirit.

Aunt and Uncle have three kids of their own - one a year older, two younger than me, by one and two years respectively. During my childhood, they lived about 4 blocks away. The visits were easy to make on foot, and my cousins and I are very close in age, so we got along well. To this day though, I can not believe how my mother and Aunt are so entirely different from each other. Though these two women are sisters, and once from the same family, and reared in the same house, when they had their own families, their two homes could not have been more different and opposite from one another.

One home was filled with anger, fear and abuse. The other filled with love and understanding. One had a woman who screamed, and the other had a woman who smiled so hard, deep dimples are impressed on her cheeks. One home had no hugs and the other had many. The four blocks became smaller for a young girl, and became an easy walk to their sanctuary. I realized from a very early age my home life was different than others. Aunt and Uncle’s home was an escape, and, with no doubt in all my years, I was always welcomed.

There is an extended family reunion soon approaching. I have not sent my response or regret for attending yet. I could say I was busy, and, actually, it has been a busy summer, but I need no more alibis for myself. I have deliberately not responded, because that would mean I would have to call Aunt and Uncle to let them know if I was coming. Apparently, they were not going to attend, but had a change of heart and are now going, if Uncle feels up to it. Because of his health, they will not know until the day of the reunion.

What was I to do now? Was it too late to call them? The Baby set me straight today. Her and I stopped at the bank for her to make a deposit. As we both were getting out of the car, she reminded me she didn’t need my help in the bank (duh!), and I should stay in the car and call Aunt and Uncle. What is the matter? You love them, and you’re fighting love being offered to you, and this love has been a steady stream to you all of your life. Just call them and quit pissing real love away. Not many times does the child correct the parent, but I was absolutely reprimanded.

I reluctantly made the call, and of course, I was still hoping for the voice mail to pick up. Uncle answered instead. Just hearing his voice melted my heart, and a smile was plastered on my face. Just after my diagnosis, he and I shared cancer horror stories. Wait. That’s not really true. He let me unload on him, he hugged me, and told me he loved me. He said to be strong, to pray, and not to put my energy into worrying, but into the fight instead. I was scared out of my mind, until he spoke to me. I was eight again, with Uncle talking to me, telling me everything was going to be alright. I have a photo of this moment. ~~sigh~~ His voice on the telephone pierced right through my stupid little girl attitude. After a minute or so, he gave the telephone to Aunt. In the front seat of my car, I melted again when she spoke, with the same unending smile still embossed on my face.

Why would I take on so much in life, and not have a few minutes for people so loving to me? I kept thinking I must figure this out before next weekend, but in the deepest part of me, I know why I made this task such a blockade. I know they know. After many years experience of being a mother myself, I now know Aunt and Uncle knew what was at my childhood home versus what was at their home. They didn’t do anything to correct the situation, but really, it wasn’t theirs to correct. However, they did create a safe haven for me, a warmth that has lasted inside myself for many years, and a memory of what a home could be, so I could pass along the same type of home to my children. They, their home, and my cousins gave me hope - and I used this hope to ask for help, so a cycle could and would be broken.

Some days I feel old, with creaking and cracking bones, taking medication to keep from getting sore, while force feeding chemicals into my body to make it cooperate. Though today, I felt like the goofy, clumsy kid from years ago, and ashamed I didn’t appreciate what was given to me.

Good is good. The good is great when it stands by itself, because it is very easily identified as good. But when the good is mixed up with shit, it becomes somewhat cloudy and confusing, and sometimes makes the good appear to be shit too. I will have make a conscious effort to remember what they gave me, and separate the bad that took place four blocks away. It’s long past the time I be grateful and tell them how awesome they are.

I am humbled.

“Once there was a way, to get back home. Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry. And I will sing a lullaby.” -- Sir Paul

HELL NO, I'M NOT GETTING ON THAT!

2009-08-08T18:47:00.000-04:00

I found out this week I hate roller coasters and other thrill rides. I used to ride them when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. While watching from the safe area behind the fence, it bothered me for all of two seconds, until I heard the shrills from the people on the ride. Apparently, these thrill rides give a biochemical reaction in the brain from the intense physical reaction to the body. I had a lot of spare time to think while The Boy and The Baby enjoyed all of them together.

A huge amusement park reaches every sense of the body. The air was filled with the smell of the fried junk food and sugary cotton candy in the air, as well as the occasional smell of a sick kid. The screams on the rides, the zoom of the power in the ride’s engines or the hydraulic lift of others could be heard with every step around the park. The lights of the carnival games and the neon outline of the rides could be seen for miles when it got dark.

While waiting in the safety zones with other middle aged parents, and even with all the noises, I had a lot of time to think and observe. My most pressing personal question was why I once loved to go on these stomach turning rides and now I get so petrified at the thought of being on one of them. After much pondering, the answer was so very obvious. I don’t want to die.

Yet all of these people, usually in the age bracket of twelve to thirty were in these long ass lines, waiting for an hour or two per ride, for a one to four minute thrill. I realize this age bracket is not yet afraid of dying and are more trusting than me. They trust the inventors and engineers of these rides know what they are doing, and I’m sure they do. However, I’m far more cynical at my age. They trust the ride would be shut down by inspectors if they were dangerous, but I think it can break at any time.

I’ve had the kind of scare, where it raises the hair on the back of your neck. I have experienced this with car crashes, doctor appointments and just being a victim of a few close calls. I don’t feel the need to capture that few seconds of “Holy Shit” to have an exciting life. I’m not really a stranger to trauma and drama, and don’t feel the need to seek it out my adrenaline on a ride that terrorizes me to the quick of my being.

As I’ve gotten older, I have gotten a bigger fear of heights. I think it’s hard for me to relinquish control to another human, so I resist it at all costs. I also am a “what if” person, and a very active imagination. Being on the Empire State Building on our trip to New York was enough for me. I had to back away from the edge and go inside for a bit. I try desperately to get an aisle seat on airplanes, and will keep my mind occupied as much as I can during the flight. After traveling many miles for business, I was absolutely ecstatic to forego the travel part of the job. I strongly believe in the law of gravity and appreciate it more than most people.

The kids convinced me into going on the Sky Bucket ride. Simply a steel cab across the park, up in the sky, suspended on cables, similar to a ski lift with closing doors. I made the mistake of looking down at the tiny, little bitty ant people on the ground. The rest of the ride I took pictures with my eyes closed, only peeking through with one eye to check the camera.

I’ve also learned my luck is not so great either. If something is going to happen, it may happen to me or while I’m on the ride, because I’ve been known to have streaks of bad luck. People who know me well personally always rib me about how crap follows me. I’m also in the steel business, and will see the spot of a little rust on the track or piece of the roller coaster, knowing something is not as strong as it was when it was originally built. Why push my luck?

Knowing I was going to this famous amusement park with the kids, I caught a show on the Discovery Channel, the morning I left Atlanta. It was called “Terror Rides” and this same park had four rides on the show. It showed these type of rides across the country, with some parks, including this one, with specific bragging rights on scaring the crap out of patrons on the rides. When the camera followed these screaming people, I got a preview of what was to come. I gladly waited on the ground, keeping my eye on them through their long lines, and snapping photos of them while they were actually on the rides. My stomach churned as a spectator. I needed no more of a thrill than this.

I take chances on other things in my life. I can make thrills right here, with the same intensity, on solid ground, far more exciting than any roller coaster ride. There is no wait and they last much longer than one to four minutes.

; )

TO KNOW ME IS TO LOVE ME

2009-08-08T15:32:00.001-04:00

Nothing ever goes off exactly as planned. We all have to adapt to every situation, no matter what our expectations are or were. Some believe it’s in the hands of a higher power, and some think it’s fate. I think it’s more human than anything. Everything that happens is in our hands, and our choices – good or bad – make different outcomes in every event.

Whether we accept or fight with these inevitable changes, makes every one of us different. There are too many people who do not accept change very well at all. They are set in their ways and find it difficult to accept any other opinion or way of doing things. These are the people who get anxious or angry, because their expectations were not met. Others see their side as more victorious and need to add salt to wounds, instead of trying to see both sides. This writing is for a particular person who chooses to argue with my feeling on certain issues, who may never read this.

I try to be a person accepting of whatever comes my way, and try to look at certain issues in a more positive light. It doesn’t always happen, and yes, sometimes events are disappointing. As time passes, I can usually find something about the change that was for the better. Part of me has completely changed and other parts of me remain the same. For those who have not spoken to me for awhile, I may be the same or I may be a disappointment.

Recently, I have been approached about faith and politics. I have said it many times before, but still believe these two powerful subjects are relevant with our life experiences, what we do for a living or our environment surrounding us. I have based my living standards on what has been presented to me in my life, and have adapted in certain situations by having a strong belief system. I can not possibly explain this personal belief system to another human, unless they have knowledge and details of my personal life. Nor can I oppose anyone else with their beliefs, unless I have knowledge and details of their personal life.

It is not a matter of disagreement on which side is correct. No human on Earth could possibly know this, in any situation or event. We are all correct and we are all wrong. To ask me to defend your position in faith or politics is a worthless conversation with me, and I think it is a waste of time to convince another of your position on either subject. In my case, I can only show by example; not words.

Presidents, politicians, pastors, priests and other community leaders have made many mistakes, both professionally and personally. There have also been an enormous amount of good in these people over the years, but is it really our duty to be pointing fingers? Isn’t there something good from everyone who have ever had these positions, even if there are mistakes in their lives? Shouldn’t we be banding together with the changes of our world, and not be fighting and fussing with each other? Can we find something positive and good in certain people’s achievements, even if they show the tiniest spot of progress?

I don’t want to be a hateful or judgmental person. In my life’s experiences, and everyone else that breathes, we’ve all had the crooked little finger pointed at us. Sometimes it may even be deserved, but still feels like crap. Good people feel guilty when they screw up and make mistakes. Better people own up to their mistakes. Mean people are blaming others.

Now, before I burst out in a chorus of Kum Ba Ya, maybe everyone should first point at themselves. We should clean up our own messes before trying to show how dirty others are. At times, life is difficult enough without making arguments with each other. Instead, we can talk about so many other things. The best song with the best memory attached is a great conversation. The first time you did anything – first kiss, first car, first trip, first child. Who has the most incredible smile you’ve ever seen? What is the worst or most challenging thing you’ve ever witnessed on your job? Any fond memories we shared with each other is a far better conversation to have with me, than telling me my opinion is wrong and should be corrected to reflect what you think.

And, as it goes, I will not succumb to your arbitrations any longer. My responses will always be light and airy, because I don’t like being called wrong, nor do I think I am doing the wrong thing in life. I’m trying to be a successful human being, and I know you are too. Please quit trying to change me when you don’t know me. Maybe we should just leave it at that.

"Love is still the only dream I know." -- John Denver

THE LIES OF TOYS

2009-08-04T09:28:00.000-04:00

When we are young, the easiest way parents teach their children to be good, constructive adults is through toys. Toys set the main example of some problem solving or a look into the future, if we use our imagination. Nothing on Earth can be further from the truth.

I have had a rant about giving dolls to little girls. This teaches crap about being a mother. Each doll had a gimmick: one would wet, one cry, one had hair that grew. The one that wet herself was nothing but a small tank filled in the back of the doll. It was harmless water, and a very tiny amount. We knew it wasn’t real urine. The one that cried was as heavy as a real baby, because it had four D cell batteries in her. Although I can go in any major city and immediately see 100 different colors of skin, all the dolls had the pink, fake Caucasian color, matching up to no one in the world. Looking back, none of the dolls prepared you for being a mother of a screaming baby, with various colors and smells of excrement coming out of every orifice on the body. When you were bored, you just ripped out the batteries and stuck her in the back of the closet.

I know of two professional sculptors, and neither of them personally. Yet Play Do seems to make it in every kids toy box. This stuff is non toxic, which is good, but has a smell like nothing else in the world. Parents give it to their kids for the simple reason of thinking it will keep them busy for hours. The Type A personality, like myself, used to get pissed when a playmate mixed the colors. I would spend hours picking the pink out of the blue and sorting the right colors back into the little cans. Of all the museums, sculptures of art and statues I’ve seen, none of them have been pink, yellow, blue and white.

The Easy Bake Oven is another fallacy of childhood. This thing does not teach you to cook or bake, but does teach little girls how to get a burn in the kitchen and deal with it. I remember melting crayons in it once, and coming out with really cool psychedelic disc shaped crayons. The smaller, fake kitchens with fake food and tiny dishes were not realistic either. Cleaning something green, fuzzy and smelly out of a refrigerator has no prior training from these days.

Dollhouses does not prepare one to take care of a house. Once everything is set in place, nothing gets messed up. No one comes around and dirties dishes, misses when they pee or leaves their little items scattered around the house. No weeds in the garden; no whiny kids; no absent parent. Often there is a dream of a maid now, but never for a young dollhouse owner.

The most ginormous lie of all would be the Barbie doll. There is only one person with these same measurements at any given time, and that is why she is a celebrity. There are plenty of women with breasts this size, waists and hips this small, but all three traits are improbable on the same average woman. Her feet are slanted to make the high heels slip on and “wear” easier. Barbie has no bunions, scars, or flaws, and every feature is perfectly symmetrical, and “wakes” every morning looking perfect – naked or not. The poor Ken doll prepares girls slightly. With our little girl imagination, we can make Ken say, wear or do anything, but this is the only truth about Ken in real life. Undress this guy and compare to a real man can be a total shock for the unsuspecting girl.

Keeping within the boundaries is a life long lesson some people never learn. Coloring did not make me an artist, but taught me to stay in the lines. Tinker Toys certainly did not make me an engineer, but the sticks were great to stir my melting crayons in the Easy Bake, and the wooden sprockets would make great launching in a slingshot. When we played “dress up”, I learned quickly I couldn’t wear a pink tutu and be cute forever. Candy lipstick only made my tongue red, with the carcinogenic red dye the FDA banned in the 1960s. Let’s not forget the delicious candy cigarettes, to make the addiction for life even more appealing.

I feel remiss continuing the misdirected education of my children, plus, I added four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to the mix. (What the hell were they smoking with this idea?) What did I do to my unsuspecting kids? I let them play with their toys, buying into Mattel’s idea that their imaginations would take over, and they would know the difference one day. Today, with high hopes, I try to scramble. With the youngest at 21, I hear the big ass tick tock, and worry if I taught them enough about the realities of life. This will be an interesting week.

DNA IS NOT THE ONLY LEGACY

2009-08-04T02:48:00.001-04:00

All is peaceful here tonight. I’m at the homestead in Cleveland and playing around on the computer and goofing off at the piano. Even the stack of work I brought with me is down to a few pieces of paper. Beautiful weather keeps my spirits up, and I’m finally able to look at this place as a getaway to create, write or relax. The seasons seem very divided here, in equal parts, much more than in Atlanta, where summertime melds into autumn, long into October. I look forward to the change of the seasons here, because they are so different. Quiet and reflective times are here tonight, but with some dumbass honky tonk playlist from my iPod for my background of white noise. I don’t know what I was thinking while creating this list, but it seems to work right now. (Bela Flek – Sunset Road)

The peacefulness hasn’t come easily, but life has finally seemed to wind down a bit lately. Too many problems, too many crossroads in life, and too many decisions have been made in the past few weeks. Although they do not all belong to me, I’ve come to realize my shoulders must carry baggage of my loved ones as well as my own, at times. As I’ve always said, a good Mum is a good filter. She keeps the shit from rolling in on the family.

The Boy and The Baby will fly up tomorrow, and will spend some time with Big Sister. Not a forced trip, but a promise to be a great little paid vacation for them, while Mummie pushes the adult children together before their lives become too busy. The Baby begins her fourth year at college, The Boy still prays for his dream job since graduating college, and Big Sister trying to start a family with her new husband. It will give us some one on one planning time too, so the rest of the year can be a little easier for everyone. It’s been a long road to combine both families, but I think we’ve all come so far with each other. (Janis Joplin – Get It While You Can)

I can’t even think of the calendar after this week. It’s looking like the game of Boggle, trying to make the words make some sort of sense and put them into the correct order, while being under a time restraint. Everyone is in a hurry lately, and it seems there isn’t enough time in our short lives to get everything accomplished. Mortality strikes me again and sobers me up, and my peace wanes a bit, when I think of upcoming doctor’s appointments and all I need to accomplish this month. Uggghhh. And the earned quiet seems to be a memory of a short dream.

I force myself to get back to the peace, and some days it becomes tiring. Since birth, every four years there was a major struggle in my life. After many years of quietly comparing other peoples’ lives, I realize the ebb and flow of the crap was given more to me than others. I’ve turned 50, and though it could and would depress some women, it’s not divisible by four, so I’m good. With my record, I have two years before the dam breaks again. (Norah Jones – Come Away With Me)

Looking for the peace is easy, if I’m quiet and I concentrate. My only regret is that it’s taken me fifty freaking years to realize a few things. Surrounding myself with genuine people who truly love me has helped. Choosing my battles has been another lesson learned. Writing, reading and music has calmed me. Prayer gives me much needed reflection and accountability. Knowing there are some people I can help in this world, has brought much needed humility back to me. Forgiveness has taught me that judging is not in my job description. (Alison Kraus – Simple Love)

So I continue, on with my search of a peaceful life, wondering if it is possible on Earth. I see so much confusion, retaliation and jealousy, and it’s not on the evening news, but within arms reach. I keep it away from the family and me, as best as I can. Tonight I look at the platter of life in front of me, and not of anyone else. This week, I look forward to the upcoming smiles of these three people who are so important to me. It’s like when they were young, trying to convince them vegetables are delicious, but they want to eat a Twinkie. Mummie is pushing a bit, but they don’t see what I see, but they’re not supposed to yet. This will be good for all of them, but I don’t think they realize it yet. Because of hard work on our part as parents, the financially legacy left will be sound. The legacy of love is what I’d really like to leave them one day. (Nickel Creek – Tomorrow Is A Long Time)

My concerns for next week will wait. I’ve created a devious plan for the week, and there will be fun and beautiful memories made – damn it! I will look for the love and peace for the three of them, and hopefully, point it out to them and convince them it’s there within the three of them, while I watch from the background. What they could have should not be wasted. (Rosie Thomas – Much Farther To Go)

THE RIGHT TO BITCH

2009-08-04T02:44:00.002-04:00

I have accomplished some personal things, while here at the place in Cleveland. Everything here is settled now, and it’s nice coming in and just being still for awhile. Being alone makes it difficult to practice being a bitch. I can only bitch at myself. I guess it just isn’t an insult anymore to me, mainly because I guess I am a bitch. I’ve now reached the age where being a bitch may be a pride thing. I think I deserve the title. Hell, I guess I’ve earned the title. I’m shouldn’t be ashamed of being called a bitch. I think it may be a way of life.

I’ve been called a bitch when:

-- I pull my little car up into the parking space and make a phantom parking space. You know the type when you can’t see the little car in the space until you try to pull your car in and realize the little car has the spot.

-- I caught someone cheating.

-- I saw someone mistreat The Baby when she was in a day care center years ago.

-- I asked for correct change from a cashier.

-- I didn’t go fast enough on a road.

-- I didn’t bow down and kiss someone’s ass, because I didn’t “know who they were”.

-- I left a horrible marriage.

-- I asked someone else’s child to behave while I was responsible for their safety.

I’m sure there were many more times I was called a bitch, but these are absolute examples of when I heard this title with my ears. No worries here. I guess I’m might be a bitch.

There are other people (yes, even men) who are bitchy. There seems to be a difference though. This afternoon, I witnessed a customer, at the grocery store, get bitchy at the cashier, for a minor and easily correctable mistake. The customer had two small children with her, and we all know this is a horrible example for them. The poor cashier was more flustered after the bitchiness came out of the customer’s mouth. I made it a point to console the cashier and even made the poor girl laugh about it, after the bitchy woman left with her bags and kids.

Though this is extremely judgmental on my part, some bitchy people seem to have more time on their hands than me. I have been undoubtedly busy for the past 25 years, and don’t have the time to be bitchy. Some bitchy people complain because they lack attention in their lives and look to do nothing but blame everyone else. Some bitchy people don’t leave themselves enough time and want the world to speed up for their lack of time management skills. Some people are bitchy because they think if they point out people’s faults, their faults will look smaller. Some people are bitchy when confronted with the correct or normal way to do things. Some people are bitchy because they don’t have control of every situation in life. Some are bitchy because they are incapable of love, are envious of others or think they are better than other people.

If being a bitch means taking up for myself or going the speed limit or possibly doing right, I guess I’m guilty. However, I’m not bitchy. There seems to be a good reason to be a bitch, but never a just reason to be bitchy. Being bitchy is shear meanness and should be against the law. I’ll bet if you locked up 20 bitchy people in a real jail or penitentiary for a week, they wouldn’t be bitchy when they left.

There is a slang term called “bitch slap”. I think it should be changed to “bitchy slap” and all of us should be able to slap any bitchy person. Maybe we could mark a big “B” on their foreheads, so we could all identify them. For traveling on the roads, a big “B” magnet on their car would work. We could make them all do community service and be kind to people to earn the right to take the “B” off of themselves or their vehicle.

Come to think of it, whether I heard it with my own ears or not, of all the times I was called a bitch, it was by a bitchy person.

THE WORRIER

2009-07-22T08:16:00.000-04:00

So today, I’m scared. I usually don’t write about these feelings, but it feels better for me to let it out once in awhile. Only a select few people reading this blog have seen the 3D version of myself, and know me personally. Though I actually receive many more comments and emails from my internet friends. These writings, of course, are only one facet of my life. There is so much going on in my life right now, and I usually journal privately about certain things and events, but this time, I thought I send it out.

I have said it many times before: I am a worrier. I am the biggest “what if” person you will ever meet, even if you lived to be 1,000. Up my sleeves, I have Plan B, Plan C, Plan D, etc. The bigger the project/trip/event, the more back up plans I have. I micro manage my business and home because things seem to run smoother. I am very particular about certain things, but am willing to let go of some things. Most people think I am in control, but I give the reins to RT many more times than people realize. I don’t like to lead and would much rather follow, because I make so many decisions in a day, I don’t think I can make one more. I have an incredible memory and will remember something abstract about certain events in my life. But because I do this, I am able to recapture mentally many specific smaller details. I can remember people, their faces and everything about them, but forget their damned name.

Now, if someone knows me personally, really truly knows me and my history, you would know that trouble definitely follows me. I’m the luckiest unlucky person in the world. Some real serious shit has happened to me all through my life, and as much as I hate drama, it follows me. Somehow, I come out of things, with a scar and a story. From the information I have in my head and from my past, and this is why I am a worrier.

So, knowing these facts about me, you must add in I am a cancer survivor for seven years now. It was thyroid cancer, and finally, last January, I heard the word “remission” from the endocrinologist. I prepared myself to go into a “maintenance mode” in my worrier’s mind. Go every two years or so, for the radioactive body scan, instead of annually, then blood work and a quick look-see from the endocrinologist every six months. Then work up to every five years on the cancer body scan. My hopes got high.

At a follow up from January’s hospital radioactive body scan, the doctor told me about a cyst on my lymph node, and said another one should be done in July, but I shouldn’t worry. My family physician called and saw my results were forwarded to him on his computer, and also said not to worry. Fine. I had the ultrasound redone at the beginning of July, and something wasn’t right. I made the horrible mistake I made once before, seven years ago. I looked at the screen. “Hot spots” are red and I saw some red on the screen. I learned this on the internet after my diagnosis, and it ended up being true. My imagination is so vivid, it took all of 10 seconds to begin my worrying.

The results came back, I assume, but were not up to the endocrinologist’s expectations. There must have been something really wrong, because my family physician did not call either, even though I put him on the lookout for results. He ordered another sonogram. You know, a kind of “do over” when someone fucks up and no one wants to admit whose fault it was. Free and no charge to the insurance company, but I have to call a particular person for the appointment. More shit for my imagination. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic.

I have been on quite a few airplanes lately, and after this neck sonogram, I was flying and a woman next to me kept sneezing and coughing. She never covered her mouth once, and I became sick within two days. (Sometimes you just know where it came from.) This wasn’t just a head cold, but tonsilitis with fever, sweating and chilling, the whole nine yards. I was concerned with having an inflamed throat with a neck sonogram. I emailed both my doctors. Both advised to postpone. Today is the beginning of Day 5, and I can barely swallow. I’m waiting around for 8:30, so I can call the family doctor to get rid of this.

What’s on my mind or what am I worrying about? I’ve learned over the past seven years, with my health, I take one issue at a time. For instance, the ten pounds I am trying to lose can wait until tomorrow. I will excuse myself from work, cleaning and everything else and get my ass to the doctor today. My first goal is to be able to swallow without pain. (Hey, no crude swallow comments please!)

Am I worried about cancer recurrence? Yup, very much so. Shit happens to me. I magically attract it. (Yes, magic can be bad sometimes, i.e. Black Magic.) There seems to be a force that has followed me all my life, and I have scars it’s left behind. Following closely behind has been a guardian force, healing, soothing and making me take things from the experience to be smarter. I told RT this when we were dating many years ago and he didn’t believe me. He does now. As cliche as it sounds, we take one day at a time. And that is the reason why he makes the decisions around here. He wants me to choose and always offers the decision to me, but I decline. I don’t want it. It’s just too much for a worrier’s mind.

I’ve learned so much though, and must look at the positive side of everything. I face mortality every day, because I know it can and will end, and it all comes down to tick fucking tock. I’ve learned I want my legacy to be the three kids (from two different families), and their mates, being together for the rest of their lives, and it is up to me to get the relationships lined up. The three kids are adults and already love each other, one is married and another is in love, so it’s up to five adults now. I don’t want any of them to feel alone and be able to lean on each other. So love is the goal, and this should be an easy feat because it’s love, right? I am planning a family vacation for August to help seal it a little more. All will be at our Haiti function this year. : )

Other things I see more clearly are the battles of life. I now choose my battles very carefully. Some people, I used to be one of them, worry about insignificant things. Some gossip to make others feel like shit. Some talk without knowing exactly what they are talking about. I’ve learned to let this crap go, and not take apart in it any longer. Some people are not worth the very little time we have here on Earth. Seeking out true, real, genuine and sensitive friends is my second goal.

The third goal is not to waste time because there is none to waste. If I am relaxing, laying in the sun, I will also read and listen to music. I’ll stop and listen to whatever other sounds I hear - birds, wind chimes, boat motors. It isn’t just lounging around and being lazy then. : )

I enjoy the small and simple things. I know everyone has heard this so many times. I enjoy my garden and cooking. I enjoy taking my French lessons. I enjoy sitting at the piano and banging out something from memory or a song I just heard. With an older house, I like reconditioning or refurbishing things around the house. I am lucky to only have to work only about two days a week. I love writing. I enjoy visiting my kids, going for excursions to the city and museums. I love visiting friends and enjoying time with people I love. These are cathartic experiences for me, and I feel these things have healing powers for me.

Yes, I am worried, but feel a little better now. All my worries and lists are now in order in my brain, because I wrote this down. I only have to take care of my tonsils today.

DO YOU HAVE IT ?

2009-07-21T12:26:00.001-04:00

Modeling agencies and talent scouts know of the “It Factor”. It is that special talent, quality and beauty that will sell, sell and sell some more. It’s different for me. The “It Factor” is difficult for me to describe. When I’ve shared it with people I know, I can rattle off examples of people we know that have “It” and the ones who do not have “It”.

“It” is a sense of nostalgia, family or even sometimes melancholy. It’s the person at the family reunion who begins talking about a lost loved family member, then others will chime in with their memory. It’s the one who will step out of their life’s path to help someone close to them, because they understand the pain or anxiety of that person. Our family is mixed quite well with people who have “It” and people who do not. The people who do not have “It” are the strong, quiet ones. They are, generally, the ones who like every single note and rest in the music, but may not listen to the lyrics, because they are uncomfortable with mawkish words. They are the stronger and braver ones, who quietly and independently fight their fights, without too much help from anyone. It’s not a bad thing to have “It” or not have “It”. “It” is just there or not there.

We need both kinds of people at different times in our lives. A family member whom has “It” can choose a song for a wedding or funeral. They are the ones who send the notes or make the calls to someone that is ill or out of sorts. They are the ones who apologize to keep the peace. The ones without “It” can see the business at hand and the work that needs to be done. These family members know how to chip in to complete the job and do not need to be told to begin. They work hard and see the straightforwardness in life, heading straight down the line.

To realize who has “It” and who doesn’t have “It” has helped me tremendously in the best way to handle issues that come up. A nudge to another to do the right thing, or maybe give a little consolation to another family member. It has also helped me understand the ones without “It”, and try to see the situation from their logical angle. It almost always helps me see their point of view. And when I explained this “It Factor” to a few other family members, it was clearly seen with examples of who does and does not have "It".

The best of both worlds would be to be both, and only have “It” when you need “It”. There are some who have to use “It” in their work, like priests or ministers, whom also have to run a staff and church. People who head charitable organizations or foundations must be both. They have to streamline people and resources so money isn’t wasted, while giving and helping others.

I have “It”, but RT does not. I know my ex does not have “It”, yet The Boy and The Baby do have “It”. RT has said he wants “It”, but doesn’t want to follow up with the actions needed to retain “It”. : ) Having “It” comes with responsibilities and many follow through procedures. You have to be willing to go to someone at the drop of a hat, because life’s crap happens at inconvenient times. I am the one who cries for others, where RT wants to fix it to make it better. The Boy and The Baby know when I expect them for a family function. They both have “It” so there is never an argument if one of us is down. The other two nurture until the winds die down.

So we continue to teach each other about ourselves, hoping for some kind of understanding or logic. Love travels blindly through our traits and faults, and when we unconditionally accept all of them, happiness is very close.

COMING TO MY SENSES

2009-07-21T12:23:00.001-04:00

It seems we have to be a witness to believe something is true. This is why all the rag magazines, at the counter in the market, sell their garbage. If a couple, in the backwoods of Arkansas, has a photo of a summer squash that looks like the Madonna, or a half Martian baby, they could sell more copies. After all, there is a picture, so it must be true. If one of the 24/7 news stations broadcasts how bad something is, it is instantly believed by the majority of the people. On late night television, there is an infomercial marathon, showing and screaming at us we can all have flat abs, make a million in real estate or dieting. We are becoming a society of nonbelievers, because we need proof with our sight, hearing, or touch to know the truth.

We rely on our senses. It gives us security and reassurance on what we believe to be true. The first time you hold your baby is an example of needing to touch to believe. At that very second of touching, the mother and child connect on several levels. At that moment, usually new mothers instantly forget of the recent excruciating pain they just endured. It’s gone, because of that first touch.

There are some incredible musicians in history who have been or are blind. Their reliance on their sense of sound must be so incredibly fine tuned. One would have to be very experienced and talented to share the stage or work with these people. They must hear every single note, including the bad ones. And because of their talent, we can watch AND hear them, and they’ve never failed to impress us.

The old saying, “if a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around, does it make a sound?” will get a conversation going every time. There are those who refuse to answer, because they absolutely need a human witness for proof. The answer is obvious. Of course, a falling tree makes noise. We do not have to be there to know it makes noise. The only way it didn’t make a noise would be if it’s a sapling, and falls on a rabbit, maybe it didn’t make any sound.

There are many times when my senses fail me miserably for proof. There are several words to describe the quiet time in our lives. I mean the REAL quiet time, with no outside or white noise to distract us. Some call it prayer; meditation; alone time; contemplation. It can happen while sitting in a chair, yoga, lying in the sun, jogging, gardening. It’s that moment in time when we sort things out for ourselves. We seem never to be alone during these moments. Some feel it’s God’s presence. Some feel the spirits of others around them. Some even think it’s their previous soul from reincarnation. Just because we can’t see, hear or touch does not mean it isn’t there.

I like this feeling, and wish everyone could attain it. We can touch someone, without a physical touch. We can see people, and not ever look at them with our eyes. We don’t have to rely on our senses to know this. To get into your own thoughts keeps you more aware of what is going on. I do not wish everyone was Christian, nor do I wish everyone was one with God. It’s not possible to expect humans to have the same belief system. The person sitting next to me, in the pew on Sunday, probably has a different perspective of life, and he is hearing and seeing the same as me.

I do wish everyone would take a little quiet time, away from their busy lives, and reflect on the day. It can be as simple as looking on how the day could possibly have been better, and make those adjustments tomorrow. It gives me solace, even if the world is crashing around me on CNN. It seems the more I practice it, the more peaceful I become. I don’t need to see or hear anyone to know someone is with me.

FRANKLY, MY DEAR . . .

2009-07-01T20:27:00.000-04:00

So many events are happening at the same time. I am also trying to stay uber busy. Less idle time means less worrying, because I am a born worrier.

We just returned from New York City, in celebration of my upcoming 50th. I was with five people who I love dearly and we all had such an amazing time. It was exhausting, but so much fun. As much as I ate and drank, I actually lost two pounds, probably from the constant walking. Awesome memories made with incredible people. I am lucky, but it has been a little more than that.

The end of this wonderful and memorable trip coincided with me reading the book The Last Lecture, by Dr. Randy Pausch, and it was the absolute right book to read on the eve of an appointment with the endocrinologist tomorrow. In the past, with an upcoming doctor’s appointment, I used to spend the time worrying about what the doctor would say, test results, and just deal with the self inflicted nervousness. Also this week, my father was remembered at Mass yesterday evening. RT and I went together.

The trip, the book and a new attitude since January, has focused me on the real part of life. Cancer doesn’t scare me anymore. There were two famous 50 year olds (big ass coincidence) that passed away suddenly, while in NYC, along with another older female celebrity who died from a long battle with cancer. None of these news items brought back the nerves, though at one time in my life, they would have. And, with my impeccable timing, Dad would have been 77 years old yesterday.

Pishaw!!! We only have an unknown amount of time on Earth, and everyone - no matter what age or what affliction - wants to live longer. I could sit here and worry about it, but what benefit would it give me. Zip, Nada, Zero. This is not to say it is not on my mind. The cyst on my lymph node is a precarious thing, but doc has assured me it’s happened before to other patients in the same scenario, and he seemed confident on what to do at our last discussion in April.

My attitude this year has been to be close to selective people, and be a little choosier on what I say to whom. I’ve learned to let go of hate, grudges and judgments, though they still slip out sometimes. The most definitive lesson I’ve learned is to let anyone else in the world say or think whatever the hell they want. It no longer matters to me. I finally got tired from thinking everyone’s actions and thoughts were really any of my business, or I could control them in anyway. Everyone is responsible for their own actions - not me. At times, it has been difficult, because some people really piss me off.

Dr. Pausch constantly talked of how he was living his life to the fullest, and as I read how he described his past, he actually achieved this before receiving his cancer death sentence. He lived; he loved; he experienced; he learned; he taught; he gave. Isn’t that what we all want when we check out? There were so many similarities in his thinking to my own, especially when you know there are active cancer cells in your body. I’m not sure if this makes sense to most people, but it turns your thinking around to what one’s thinking should be. We should appreciate the simple, and we should make plans to be with the people we love most, and care for people who need help. And then, we should cram it all in, as much as we can, while we can, and do it quickly too. This seems to be the sole purpose of humans, not to see who has what homes or cars or toys, who is popular or who is cool for whatever reason. Life is so temporary, and illness gives a totally humbling attitude on how brief life is. It’s not worth being upset with someone else or what they do or what they say. Facing mortality makes you wonder if you made the best out of the hand dealt to you. If not, is there still enough time to make it better or right a few wrongs?

Ah, there’s that forgiveness thing again, and that keeps my ego in check. Some don’t believe in God, but He has helped me through all of this. I’ve had a Mass said for Dad every year since his death 18 years ago. It makes me feel good that I remember him. I’m one of five that knew him as an adult. It saddens me sometimes, but I can only be responsible for my own personal regrets - not my siblings. Yes, I always cry, but last night, I had a completely different thought than all those other years. Leaving the Church last night, I told RT how selfish I am to be having Mass said for him. He suffered so much and so long with his health. I know he is in a better place, because anywhere is better than being in a coma for the last six months of his life, or battling a disease he had for 20 years. He’s not in pain, and he left the arduous fight for his body to try to miraculously come back. (?) What the hell was I thinking? I miss him, and it just seemed a little self centered of me to want him back here, when I know he’s so much better now.

In the great words of Clark Gable, “Frankly, my dear . . .” I no longer care about a lot of things. I once was my own worse enemy. I used to have spices in alpha order, and nothing laying around. I had to have a certain way of doing things, and washed my car every week. I cared what people thought of me. I now care about things I should care about. I left behind some (not all) the material things. I try to care about people and put myself in their shoes. I try to understand another’s struggles, and now know everyone here has been through something crappy. I try to forgive and apologize. I don’t always succeed, but I try. It’s been amazing to see my own transformation and how life no longer sucks, when surrounded by love - pure, unconditional, no bullshit love.

I really think it’s that easy. I don’t write this to convert or transform. I write this because it cements these ideas into myself. As with all of my writings, I write this for me. I am really the only one I need to impress.

“I’ll take an earnest person over a hip person every day, because hip is short term. Earnest is long term.”

FUN TIMES 50

2009-06-22T15:13:00.000-04:00

At the end of the week, we will be traveling with people we love - two other couples that mean the world to me [us], with one of the five being my older brother. You would think any woman would be apprehensive about being with two other women in a different city, where we can’t escape from each other, but, in this case, each personality has their own personal duty. I’m trying not to have expectations, but one woman is known for kindness, the other is known for practicality, and I will be making them both laugh. (I think I have the easiest job.) The only responsibility we will have is to eat, drink and enjoy each other’s company.

Plans have been made and everything has been reconfirmed, to celebrate my upcoming 50th birthday. I just didn’t want the party thing, and thought this would be more fun, plus the fact I don’t have to call the caterer and clean up after everyone leaves.

Though we will also be with mates, I am getting excited to be with these two beautiful ladies. I am trying to have no expectations, and knowing the three of us are in similar places in life, it makes it easier to think about the fun and laughter that is inevitable, sharing our common experiences. I thought I would feel a bit resistant, as I love to go places, but hate the travel end of it. The airports, planes, and drivers relinquishes control to the experience and talent of another person. Instead, I am finding myself getting excited to be with the two [five] of them.

At a crossroads in my life, I will have to make some significant decisions when we return from this trip. Over the past week, I have discussed these upcoming options with the people closest to me, in my home circle, and they seem to now understand some of the upcoming changes. It’s funny how you think you need to seriously get your point across, but if they love you unconditionally, it is so much easier. They seem to want to hear what tier in life you are on, and where you want to step next, and really care about you and your plans ahead.

Life seems so full of adventures lately, flying by the seat of my pants. With a few haunting upcoming uncertainties, this trip represents so much more to me than the other traveling friends realize. I’m not sure whether it will be the right time to share with them on this upcoming trip. I would rather keep my attitude light, and possibly the traits of kindness and practicality of these two fine ladies rub off on me. Seeing the ripple effect of the pebble in the water may be just what I need right now. The contagious positive attitudes of these two friends may help me better see things in the right perspective.

I guess I do have some expectations of this trip and the people after all. I think it’s because outside the home circle, these are the people I trust the most outside my personal home enclosure of security. They have all laughed and cried with me, given and taken advice, we’ve had our shoulders, both ways, to lean on when life gets a bit difficult. They don’t yet know of the fun and friendly pact we are going to make with them en route to the hotel. LOL! As I said, I am in charge of the laughter, so I am ready to initiate it. : D

Yes, I guess I do have expectations, though I’d like to say they are minor for this trip. I now know, at this age, there is not a lot of time we all get here on Earth, and it ticks away faster with each birthday. We need to be open, and kind, and practical. We need to spend quality time being with people we love, and who love us back, even if it means dragging everyone’s ass out of their secure safety zones. We’ll leave the kids, work, vacuum cleaners, dirty laundry and other little woes behind, knowing they will be there when we return. We’ll make new memories of a great adventure, so we can take these memories with us on life’s journey ahead.

My only expectation is to have fun with people I love.

BLURRY DOUBLE VISION

2009-06-10T15:30:00.000-04:00

As you age, the double standards list gets longer between men and women. I’ve always said, if a man is assertive in the business world, he’s merely assertive, or a “go getter”. If a woman is assertive, she’s a bitch. There are a couple of other observations I have noticed lately I’d like to add to the list.

* If a man is large, in a certain area, he is well endowed. If a woman is, she has a nice rack, huge hooters or a great set of happy sacs.

* If a man seems structured, he is organized. If a woman is efficient, she is neurotic.

* If a man is not feeling well, he is sick. If a woman isn’t feeling well, it’s PMS.

* If a man poses nude, he’s a stud. If a woman poses nude, she’s a slut.

* If a man eats during the Super Bowl or other sporting events, it’s called snacking, and implies male bonding. If a woman does, it’s eating bon-bons, and implies we are lazy, fat asses.

* If an older man dates a younger woman, we are back to stud. If an older woman dates a younger man, they are cougars or have boy-toys.

If a man declares what he wants, he is being straightforward. If a woman says what she wants, men believe the opposite.

The list goes on, but I’m sure the opposite list exists, with a whiff of more testosterone coming off the page. I just think portraying women as lazy, slutty, neurotic bitches with big butts is not the way to go, especially since we are the main source of information for raising the world’s sons. The First Amendment protects people with the right to free speech, however, it does not cover slander. (Yeah, well check it out.) So, the question comes back to why would so many women put up with this kind of double standard?

Simplistic behavior deserves simplistic answers. The truth is, we women don’t really care. We rule the world, and all of us know it. If there isn’t a woman in your household or life, telling you what to do, most likely, you are in complete chaos, with very few exceptions. All males and females know this, but we let you think there is a public tug of war going on here.

We have the whole package, wrapped up and tied with a bow, for most heterosexual men. Men want a chip off the ole block, but don’t want to change the diapers. You want to talk, but not so much listen. We have the children, the natural ability to nurture and, yes, the boobs. We’ve all been taught by a slew of women, some even directly related to you, over many generations. We’ve taken notes and passed them along, down to the most minute details.

There are many young people in our lives, our children and friends of our children, hitting the ages of 20 to 30 years old. When the marriage proposal goes down, all hell breaks loose. The male may think he knows when they’re getting married, but as soon as he gets off his bended knee from putting the ring on her finger, the decision turns to the future bride, her mother and sisters. Every female, on both sides of the families, is called into immediate action. It’s kind of a sorority, where the older females show the newly engaged female what the hell is up.

The wedding takes place (of course, with the groom with only a slight hangover from tying one on, and the bride becoming the new monster, Bridezilla), on the date made by the women folk. Down to the stitch of his tuxedo, most everything is planned, arranged and told to the men folk. Where to live, when to have babies, what Church and school they will attend, and even what everyone will wear and eat becomes the woman’s responsibilities, in most homes. Thank God grass grows, as the male gets to crank up a loud ass machine every Sunday and drown out the noise from the female and children.

One example is when the dance recital is squeezed between a Little League baseball game and the PTA meeting, you better have the camera in hand. We will shop for the best price for this camera, clip the coupon for an additional $10 off, shop the sale, charge the batteries, read the manual and translate the easy way for you to use it, send in the warranty card, and show you how to post on the internet for all to see, but it’s the male’s job to take the pics.

Women have ruled the world, deep into our history on Earth. From strong First Ladies of U.S. Presidents to Senators and Congresswomen, from Queens and Royalty to ambassadors with clout and stature, with some being regal and some a little embarrassing, it doesn’t take much effort to find the woman’s place in history.

Besides the fact that the Old and New Testament are chock full of women - some even being the beautiful, saintly and gentile type. Still planning the wedding functions, Mary, not asked, but told our Lord to change the water into wine. Among some of the strong women of the Bible (Ruth, Naomi, Deborah, Miriam), add proof to the fact strong women exist everywhere and anywhere, despite cultural difference of the times. Some more pious, and some taking a stand, but all very determined women, with the outcome of their choices, and not of their male counterparts.

There is a small percentage of woman in the Catholic Church, who want to argue the 2000 year old liturgy and tradition of having female priests. Pardon me, but WTF! There are many reasons this is a ludicrous statement, but one personal reason, screams at me. In the Confessional, I do not want a woman in there, hearing me say this or that.

Those fat ass, lazy, bitches would have my sins printed in the weekly bulletin! (Ooops!)

SAY WHAT YOU WILL

2009-06-05T14:09:00.001-04:00

When I was young, my attitude of life inside our home was the complete opposite of what my attitude was outside to the world. It had to be like this, because inside those doors were so different than most of the people in the world.

I have come to know, finally, how to be choosier, and select more of a quality of person I want to spend time. It doesn’t matter if they smoke or drink; it doesn’t matter if they are wealthy or juggling finances; it doesn’t matter if they are plump or athletic; it doesn’t matter what faith they have in religion or politics. It has become so simple, I sometimes question myself if it has always been this easy.

I now make my choices based on how many lies I’ve heard from their mouths, in a certain period of time. Then, if they are humbled, if busted in one of these lies. These two traits seem to tell so much about a person, and who they are, down to the very crux of their sincerity, passion and empathy for others.

Everyone searches for the truth, because truth gives us so many valuable instruments in life that we need. We need truth for security, love, trust, and stability, which leads to happiness. We need truth to safeguard ourselves and to protect the people we love around us. When the truth is finally detected from a wall of lies, we need to feel their humility, to help us heal and repair ourselves, and to regain the respect of the original liar.

Sometimes the people are family, sometimes they are friends, and sometimes they are our government. When the disconnection takes place, others may wonder what the rest of the world thinks about them. Some may care why a person chooses not to be with their father, a mutual friend or why they are on a different side of the fence as them. The people who wonder should ease off, and realize it may be just, and they may never know the reason.

We have come to be a society that points fingers, make quick accusations and has very little trust in other people. Allowing people to make these decisions and omit certain people from their personal lives or sever relationships, without the backlash of bantering and gossip, leads to another level of peace. Trying to convince me another person is guilty of something, is fruitless and quite ignorant.

There are some who will bash somebody else, to steer others away from peeking into the window of their own inadequate lives. Pointing out faults of specific people is the most narcissistic and deceitful attitude of all. This is the worst kind of life to lead, because as a child, I came from this type of home. I can identify it very easily. If I notice it within a child from this type of home, I will always befriend this child. It pangs me to see this, and know if I share an iota of friendship with them, it may give them a small speck of hope love exists in this world, beyond the doors of their own home.

I now see the life outside my home the same as inside my home. I try not differentiate away from the old Golden Rule, to treat others respectfully, and keep my attitude in check in both places. I will continue to maneuver myself away from the poison of untruthful people. Whether some agree with me or not, it gives me peace instead of insecurity. The ripple effect happens with either emotion, and would rather it be with peace.

"Say what you will, good love is hard to find, I've had my fill of the hurtin' kind." -- E.C.

THE GOOD AND BAD OF 50

2009-05-29T02:11:00.000-04:00

I gladly chose to turn the big 50 early this year. Celebrations begin June 25th and will continue for a few days at the Hyatt in New York City. The best part is whose coming with us. It won’t be difficult to keep the food and alcohol flowing, but stamina is another story. Six people, about the same age, taking on the city - away from jobs, businesses, kids and responsibilities.

Going back to NYC is exciting for me. For nearly two years, I spent every other week in this town and though it seems exciting, it wasn’t when I worked there. Friends cringe when they think I gave it up, because I was paid to drink fine European wine and eat. But it was so exhausting in so many ways.

I know the best risotto in SoHo, the best cannoli in Little Italy, the best pub in Hell’s Kitchen, and I’m willing to share this information. The memories of this trip versus previous trips will be quite different. I won’t have to worry if there are not enough wine glasses, if the ink on the labels are smudged or bent, if the waiter pours in the incorrect order, the cork isn’t left for the host, blah, blah, blah. I will not be taking any notes or negotiating more chairs with a restaurant manager. I will not be getting others’ opinions on what they’re drinking, except maybe a funny slur from one of my awesome friends.
: D

I chose NY because of my familiarity with the city, and because I do not want to cater and clean up after one of our parties. Having a reputation for wine tastings and parties at the house, with me being the chef, I am afraid the celebration’s guest list would get out of hand quickly. It will be easier host to this event, because this city never fails to amaze everyone. It will be a long ass birthday party.

After a few more details, the countdown will begin, in many ways. Now that the details of the trip are in place, I am beginning to fret about turning 50. The last birthday that really bothered me was 24, and I’m not sure why. It was just a difficult one for me. So after an additional 26 years, why would 50 be scary?

Some say 50 is middle aged, but that is pure bull shit. I seriously doubt I will live to be 100, so it certainly ain’t in the middle. I’m on the downhill coast to death. YUP! That’s it! Fortunately, cancer has given me a morbid sense of humor when it comes to mortality. I have faced all those horrible questions about the kids, last will and testament and the estate. Any extra years I can squeeze from the insurance company statistics are pure icing on the cake.

I’ve also taught myself to live like there is no tomorrow. Illness has helped me greatly change my thinking around. No longer do I care what people think, or who is pissed at any given moment. I’ve learned not to let the little things bother me, or to worry so much about the future. I care about people, whether I know them or not, and whether they like me or my family or not. Working towards leaving a better world behind has become more important to me than a manicure or designer clothes, or how I am portrayed by others. Good or bad, wrong or right, I am trying hard to love everyone, without cynicism, and give them the opportunity to love me. It’s the most difficult task I’ve taken on, but so far, has been well worth the extra efforts.

Other than the ostentation of a trip to New York, this birthday will be spent with people I deeply love and care about, in one of the most fun cities in the world. With mixed emotions about getting older, I will try to be optimistic. I will become a member of AARP proudly, and demand my discounts.

Next stop may be Paris at 55.

THE BABY VISIT - PART TWO

2009-05-27T18:15:00.001-04:00

This visit with The Baby was inspired by her cat, Philo. On her night table, The Baby keeps a glass of water. While sleeping, she didn’t want the cat to knock it over, so she moved the glass to the floor. Yesterday morning, she woke up to the sound of her cell phone’s muffled alarm. The cat had pushed the phone off the night table, with a direct hit below, and into the glass of water on the floor. Sometimes, if it wasn’t for shit luck, The Baby would have no luck at all. I couldn’t keep from laughing.

I received a text message from Ma Bell telling me the contract was fulfilled and these two phones can be exchanged. Last week, The Boy and I went to exchange his cell phone, and he jumped at the chance. The Baby, never liking any change, dragged her feet, wanting to keep her old reliable phone. Never mind she only had a car charger, it went off unexpectedly and was severely beaten up. The cat must have overheard the conversation last week, when we were all at The Baby’s home.

During the cell phone excursion, the second long conversation we had today, was about feminine versus masculine. This was the fun conversation between us. : ) All men show femininity and all women show masculinity, in different ways, at different times.

The way we were both dressed was normal, so we thought. The Baby had brown jeans and lavender dress shirt, hair pulled back in a pony tail, and sandals. I had blue jeans, black tank, denim shirt with my company logo and sandals, hair also in ponytail. No makeup, just wanting to exchange her phone at the AT&T store. There is a time when all women dress a little butch, er, more masculine. Maybe the correct word would be casual. We were on a mission of a new cell phone. The Baby needs a cell phone because of her active life. I need her to have a cell phone, so I can make my “needy” calls, making sure she’s alright. There is a time for sensuality and lipstick, and there is a time for sensibility and Chapstick. This was definitely one of the latter days.

Most people don’t think men care what they are wearing or what they look like. They will tell you there is no reason to dress, but it is more important to be comfortable. Bull shit! Every attractive man The Baby and I have met looks and smells good. Good looking men want to be attractive to the females around them. In the animal kingdom, we all know too well it is the male of the species that is the prettiest. Human females know this and use makeup, hair goop, nail polish and literally anything that uplifts, to look more attractive. Men do care, but it’s just they don’t have to put as much time into it.

I had a red plaid shirt once, but according to The Baby, I was to get rid of it and never purchase anything plaid again. I didn’t realize it was a faux pas until she told me. When I owned this shirt, it was when I was a single mother when the kids were younger. The house was a fixer upper, and she enlightened me with a common scenario of me being at a Home Depot while wearing the shirt. In her own honest way, she told me it looked too masculine on me. I am normally not concerned with what people would think of a shirt I am wearing, but I’ve not purchased plaid since.

Women apparently have to be cautious, because people do make their own opinions and conclusions. However, masculinity is associated with being strong, independent and having self worth in your occupation or career. If a women shows these traits, she’s just a bitch. On the other hand, men have to be cautious too, because showing too much femininity shows others a sign of weakness, instability, or being gay. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.

The question is how many masculine traits should a woman have and how many feminine traits should a man have? When is enough enough? It all depends on the individual person, because sexuality plays a part of our human behavior. Whatever society has made it out to be has certainly changed since the June and Ward Cleaver days, although I think June was strong when she was insistent with Ward, Wally or The Beaver. If I knew June today, I wouldn’t fuck with her, with her pearls or in a plaid shirt.

When speaking, women tend to get louder to get their point across. Sometimes, we’re not sure if our mate is listening, so we repeat and get louder. Please forgive us when we drink, because then, the decibels go up even more. It just doesn’t matter which sex we are speaking to when this happens, and can not be seen as masculine or feminine - just a little obnoxious.

Men must show their feminine side, no matter how little or deep it lies. If they didn’t, we both decided they would never get laid. Both The Baby and I have noticed over the years, when a man is speaking to another man, his voice lowers, usually about a half an octave down. When a man is challenged by either sex, the same thing happens. They make a more feminine sounding voice and it comes up a half an octave when the supplier of their hoochie coochie calls or walks into the room.

I need these good times with The Baby and the closeness we share with each other. We were two observant people in sync today. Before she left, I slipped her some cash, some candy I had bought for her, and homemade jelly I made from the mulberries from her yard. By the end of the afternoon, she finally got her replacement cell phone, and went back to her home, her cat and her life. I miss her already.

THE BABY VISIT - PART ONE

2009-05-27T18:15:00.000-04:00

I was with The Baby this afternoon. We learn from each other every time we are together. With only a four hour period of time, mother and daughter are connected again, adding another nice bond to our relationship. I am so grateful for her, and look forward to my next lesson with my young teacher. : )

Today, part of the conversation was me telling her she needs to be more open minded with The Boy. He is very conservative, and dead set in his ways, though only two years older than The Baby, his opinion is like moving a huge boulder at times. As much as she (and most of us) despise stereotypes, I had to categorize our family. Each member was put on her team, and others were put on my team. After hearing the teams a couple of times, and taking a brief look at these loved ones’ lives, she couldn’t figure it out why I divided the people the way I did.

Her team were the independent thinkers of the family. If they call you once a week, that’s plenty. They love to live their lives, controlled only by them, being self reliant and not asking for help. They have fewer members in her bunch, but are the more serious ones in the family. My team were composed of the family oriented people. We need more hugs and want everyone to get along with each other. We need the affirmation that everyone is alright and doing fine. If something is out of place, we are the ones who try to patch things up. We are the sentimental and needy fools, yet we are needed by the independents to show them how to keep balance in their life, and remind them we are all connected. Without the connection, we may as well not exist in each others’ lives.

The Boy is on my team and RT is on The Baby’s team. Among other family members, she does not have an argument between her team and mine. We both agreed whose team each person should be on. She asked why I would think about this, and go this far with this thought process. The answer is simple. I realize how she and RT are so much alike, and it’s up to the mother/wife to diffuse various family situations and make everything right again. The mothers are the ones responsible for the connection, and with the help of the other mothers on my team, we succeed at this. We need to be aware where everyone is in our lives and how to make the reconnection with our roots.

Healthy families and healthy plants are alike. Some roots need to be severed from the main system, in order to not be choked out. Some new sprigs coming out of the ground need to be nurtured and looked after, then tended to, so they have a strong start. And while growing, the mature leaves need to protect the young seedling from the poison and slugs, gently dropping the needed nutrients down to the little ones.

She asked if it bothered me we are on opposite teams. I reminded her we are on different teams - not opposite teams. Because she sees life differently from me doesn’t bother me at all. My love for her is so real, I genuinely want to understand her view of the world. After all, her view began with me pointing things out to her at such a young age. Isn’t it my responsibility to be view her world through her eyes?

I remember when The Boy and The Baby were toddlers together. The Boy (yes, certainly mum’s boy), saw and agreed with everything I was back then and everything I taught him. Unfortunately, the world is not the same as it was over 23 years ago, and I’ve changed my mind about some issues. The Boy is still adamant with his ideals and what he was taught. The Baby, as a toddler, had an incredible sense of color, art and abstract thinking. For the most part, until she was sixteen or so, I showed her the path I was on, because it was the only path I knew. I can only teach someone what was given or inside of me. In some ways, she has chosen other paths, but still took with her the abstract thinking and open mindedness of the world she was about to see and experience. Some of her thinking has gotten her into some trouble, but she is making adjustments in her thinking and behavior to balance herself out again. I admire this about her. I understand both of them and who they have grown to be.

The mother is the parent who notices things no one else in the world would notice about them. It’s very easy to do too. You just stick a box of crayons and paper in front of them. Tell them to draw the same object and study them. After you do this a few times, the differences are amazing. The Boy, being color blind all of his life, didn’t help and consistently showed a huge difference than his sister’s pictures and portraits. The Boy was always precise, wanting everyone to see exactly what he was drawing and why. The Baby was more like Escher. She would wait until you discovered the twenty pictures in one, and would want your explanation on why she drew it that way.

Do I have a favorite? Of course, but it depends what I am doing at the time. If I’m at a baseball game, or talking about faith, love, the future or music - it’s definitely The Boy. If I’m at a museum, or talking about faith, love, the future or music - it’s definitely The Baby. What neither of them realize is they are both so much alike, but individually have a different slant on things.

Faith with The Boy is about the structured Catholicism I have instilled in him. “Mummie wouldn’t lie to me, so I believe.” The Baby takes God and sees so many different things. The beauty of the Earth was His gift to us, His wrath is the same as karma, His love begins with what is inside of each of us. Love with The Boy is structured as well. Meet a nice girl, settle down and have 2.2 babies and a mini van in the drive, in the burbs. The Baby sees love everywhere, and does not pinpoint it so directly. Great music for The Boy is Dave Matthews and any type of classic rock and roll. The Baby is more on the edge with a current mix and struggling young musicians, trying to see everyone’s message in their lyrics.

How lucky am I? I am the receiver of all this great new information and a wonderful new view of the world, while seeing validation of what I have given them is still alive and making sense with each of them. It’s so obvious my favorite is both of them together. They can not be separated in my eyes. I don’t think either would ever believe this.

ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST

2009-05-22T18:14:00.000-04:00

I've run into some crazy ass people lately. I don't know what to make of it, as I do not want to judge anyone - judging surely comes back to haunt you. I seem to be a magnet to it or I am noticing it more lately.

First, within the old gang, tongues are wagging of a crazy ass friend. I have also experienced her first hand, and even without the additional gossip of her lunacy, yes, it is obvious -- she's a freaking nut case. Life has taken a hard toll on her. Without her meds, she just isn't sure what is and what isn't true. I avoid her, unfortunately. I've tried, but her nonsensical attitude and gibberish have me shrugging my shoulders.

Then, there are the many gazillion of people who feel the urgency to comment on every page on the internet. I'm not sure if all are crazy ass people, but some go on and on and on. The definite crazy ones are there as well, giving commentary on everything from being "Christ-like" to politics to criticizism. Some of the really wacky ones talk about something completely off the subject, sometimes taking the shock effect, to rattle the writer or owner of the site.

Flipping through the television channels, I've recently found Ernest Angly (ck sp), Graham Norton and the two older British women who clean dirty houses. There are politicians from both sides, sometimes screaming what needs to be done. (Like this type of behavior will actually change or convince others.) The best form of craziness has been watching the different reality shows. I think Survivor is the winner in selecting the most crazy ass people of the country to be on their show.
Of course, from my own home plate advantage, the crazy ass people run rampant. As I smile as I write, this scenario can be the ultimate reason for me going into my secluded "hibernation" about four times a year. There are recently a few friends, now classified as acquaintances, because I just can't listen to the crazy ass ideas or plans of how the world would be a better place, if I would only help blah, blah, blah. Some have even had the balls to call me out of the blue and tell me what I need to change in my life to make it better. WTF? I really thought I was happy. Everything is running smoothly, cancer is at bay, business stronger than ever, all the kids are doing well. During this conversation, she tells me how many things are wrong in her life. WTF, again??? In my opinion, this goes beyond being rude. It's just a crazy person, not willing to take care of her home life, yet willing to tell someone how to run their life. Clean out the nuts in your cupboard, then you can come over and help clean mine. Duh!

On the road, there is a new crazy person driving around, wanting to beat you to where you're going. They are the ones who always have to drive in front of you. If you pass them, they speed up, so you can not pass them. What's the reason for this weird behavior? They are not going to the same place I'm going, are they? Do they have to beat me there? Even if we are going to the same place, do I have to follow them going 15 miles an hour under the speed limit while they're talking on their cell phones?

As with everyone, there are some crazy ass family members too. There is no family complete without the occasional nut case. However, with a large family, there seems to be a few more of them. I shall not go into details here. The crazy ass family members reading this won't recognize themselves anyway.

And finally, the exes. Ah, the biggest of the crazy ass people of the world. It can be my ex, someone else's ex, one of the kids' exes, a friend's ex. They are all lunatics wanting to stir up anything and everything. There is a reason why they are an ex, but they just don't see it. And in my exes house, I am sure I am referred to as one crazy ass bitch.

After all this ranting, it brings me to my point in question. What is normalcy and does it exist? Can we all just get along, even with the crazy ass people out there, not performing to norm as we perceive norm? Besides turning the other cheek, using diplomacy or just pretending they do not exist, is there anything else we can do?

The answer is no, there is nothing left to do with crazy ass people. They are everywhere - in person, on the internet, on the road and way too close for comfort at times. The reasons behind their insanity usually lie with only a few reasons. One, they do not receive the needed attention they crave, so they want attention in any way they can receive it - good or bad, but usually with bad behavior. Two, they are or in need of medication. Whether they take their medication is their decision, even if they are crazy. Three, they do not have priorities set in their lives and do not realize the importance of happiness. They usually intend on hurting people for petty reasons.

I've said it before, and as time passes in my life, I am believing it more and more. I will not have these people in my lives. My future memories will be filled with people closest to my definition of normalcy. No extremists, no narcissists, no self proclaimed gurus. Some days, it feels like Night Of The Living Dead movie. The freaking zombies just keep coming, and I don't know where they are coming from.

Feel free to leave a crazy ass comment. You may not receive one back from me, but I may forward them to Nurse Ratchet.

LEE & SHERMAN - THE FIGHT CONTINUES

2009-05-07T18:13:00.000-04:00

I've had do much fun this week. We managed to get the sunshine to follow us up North, for most of the week, leaving a week's worth of rain in Atlanta. According to the forecast, we'll leave colder, rainy weather and the sunshine will follow us back to the South. The condo is nearly complete up here, with just a few missing art pieces. We'll try to get some local art to reflect the culture here. It's been fun rehabbing, and now a very relaxing place to visit. We see family every other night, with time to sip tea or espresso in between, with quiet evenings of enjoying the cooler evenings. We now have the necessary extra amenities of DSL, television, bicycles, guitar and piano. We've thought about extending our stay, but should get back to HQ. It would be easy to settle in for a much cooler summer, but still miss home and other two kids. We are blessed to be able to spend time with entire family, at this point in our lives, but need to have the balance of both North and South worlds. It IS the quality we make of it, no matter where we are. It IS our attitude. It IS the hard work over the years that makes a difference. It IS the love we share with each other. Indeed, life is good, but even better when we can find the balance with it all.

taffy

2009-05-03T18:12:00.001-04:00

I'm feeling like I'm being pulled in different directions. Note to self: it's only "vacation" when no one knows you in the town you visit. We had a wonderful day, drinking at a local winery on the very edge of Lake Erie. The sunset was beautiful, with wispy clouds of pink and soft oranges. It was a picture good enough for a jigsaw puzzle. : ) My expectations to write are still there, but others seem to be making plans, without asking for affirmation from me. My expectations of dealing with everyone with love may become a challenge. There is a lot of inspiration here, I think because it's so new to me. I'm anxious to explore and find things, but it's a little aggitating when I'm told "you won't like it". I'd rather decide that for myself. I think it's time to stealth myself. I need to make myself invisible. I may slink out of here early in the morning, borrow the car and see what happens.

arrival, well, almost to the RT Adventure

2009-05-03T18:12:00.000-04:00

RT got a speeding ticket by the Ohio Highway Patrol. We both couldn't help but laugh. Ten hours of driving and his slightly leaded foot, it just seemed inevitable -- to both of us. We pulled into the condo community and I said "I know you got the garage door opener when we left our house [in Atl], but you did remember the condo key, right?". If it wasn't so dark, I think I would have seen him blush. We had had a conversation in our driveway back home about the key. He had his "selective hearing" going on. I thought his "oh, no" response was him kidding around again. LOL. No one was more surprised than myself when I began laughing again. I realized we had to wake up someone for our extra key. I also quickly realized there are locksmiths everywhere. He was tired and was ready to lay low for the week, and in his words, "he's his own worst enemy, at times". We finally got in around 1:30 a.m. Mass at our faraway parish changed the times from their winter schedule. We got three quarters of the service in. Still laughing, we thought it was still better than nothing. RT Adventures are always fun. When we finally settled down on our home away from home, he told me he always thought RT Adventures were fun and it was a compliment. I told him they are always fun, with the perfect mix of never knowing what's going to happen. The end result is better because they are always more memorable. I'm still thinking it's so much better to deal with life with love. It makes unexpected things a lot easier.

driving

2009-05-02T18:11:00.000-04:00

I apologize in advance for spelling and punctuation. I'm in the car and we are driving to the Cleveland homestead. We're taking a car up and flying back. Before traveling (by plane, car, boat or whatever) I always make the announcement that we are not in a hurry. I hate being rushed and when I say this, RT or the kids know I'm not joking. Everyone instantly relaxes and knows we can stop for anything: bathroom, coffee, just to take a pic, whatever. Some people on the road are in a hurry. Some will drive slower in front of you. When you try to pass them in the other lane, sometimes they speed up. I don't get it. Are they afraid we will arrive first? But they're not going where we are going anyway! So WTF?!?! Of course, we see the older people on their road trips. Talk about the people that are not in any hurry. I really can't find it in my heart to make fun of them. I'll be there in no time at all. I find myself more patient with them in recent years and even wave when we buzz around them. : ) There are the young parents on vacation with a car load of kids. Since the dad is driving, doing his job, the mother has to take complete control of the kiddies. Every stop there is a family like this. I feel bad for her as the lady is either yelling or exhausted looking. It doesn't seem like a vacation of rest. So it's up to Cleveland, to be away from work, visit with family, and catch up on my writing. The home up there is all set up now, and bringing a car ensures more independence. The plan is not to have too many plans, although RT is talking about renting a boat and having some fun on Erie and a few river channels. Apparently, if we bring our passports, we can easily get to Canada by boat??? Talk of another side trip out in country or upstate New York. By car is boring. After this trip we can fly and not pack anything. I am quickly enjoying not having anything to do, especially since all the crap in The Baby's life this week. My biggest responsibility is the iPod playlists. "I must admit I felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoes." -- Bob Dylan

PHOENIX OF LOVE

2009-04-30T18:10:00.000-04:00

There were just too many feelings of up and down this week. Emotional roller coaster took on new meaning for me. Most everything was out of my control, and it was just the week I was dealt. To remain optimistic is our human duty. It’s difficult to decipher which emotion to contemplate on, so I choose the love in all of the situations this week.

After 14 months, The Baby has most of her crap mistake behind her, and only needs to look at the future and being more selective in her friends and geography. : ) Though this is a definitely a hard choice for most, she always was the type of person who lead the crowd. Now, heads are turning, and following her now is a kinder crowd, along with her new attitude and behavior. Some have said how lucky she was today, but the truth is The Baby equals love, and chose love over her past and future choices. She chose the love of us, The Boy and her family. She chose to hold onto the love of old friends who still stand behind her. She is choosing love in her new friends and people she wants to be around. She chose the love of herself, her life and her dreams to secure the freedom she needs to breathe. I am happy because for the first time in over a year, The Baby is happy. Love is always worth the fight, no matter what is at stake.

The old dog is missed. Each time I wake up for the double shot of espresso, I look for her. I have reminded RT that Sammie is not here. He knows I miss her badly, but I don’t like admitting she is dead - she’s just “not here”. I miss her because of her absence, and the unconditional love this creature gave to me for so long. I miss her laying with me though I was full of radiation. I miss her sitting in the hallway, watching out the front bedroom window, waiting for headlights to turn into the long driveway. I miss her head on my chest and how she looked at me. In the past week, I’ve learned to look at the wonderful memories of her and her personality - not her last day on Earth. I’ve made a pact with RT about getting another dog or animal. I never want to go through the emotions of that infamous one day of death.

Feeling lucky of the steady stream of business has been another source of happiness. With a never ending flow of horrible financial news in the media world, it is incredible we are still determined, and fortunate from a consistency of our hard work over past years. It is paying off now, when times are tight, and we have decided to share with the people of Haiti again. Since health issues would keep me from going back there, it is a reprieve for me to know we can continue to help in a financial way.

With the oppression of some family members, it was so amazing to reconnect with the love of the other side of the family this past weekend. It gives me a renewed look at who I am and who I am meant to be. What is in constant conflict on one side, is purely love on the other. Feeling like you’re at home is different for everyone, but I finally know where my undeniably connection was born and still lives. It has settled so much in me internally, I know the peace that escaped me for years, is finally here. I shall never let it go.

Looking for the easy way out is, well, easy. It is almost like having to turn the large boulder, so you can continue on your path. Sometimes I can use leverage, all by myself. Other times, I need help of other people. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever see the new life underneath the boulder. It keeps me open for everything positive and lessens the pessimism. It keeps me strong and discards the weakness of my faults. It keeps me wanting to share bliss, instead of hoarding the bitterness life unceasingly gives us. I’ve decided to look at love this week.

Wouldn’t you agree, baby you and me, got a groovy kind of love . . .”

PLEASE DON'T CRAP IN MY GARDEN!

2009-04-27T18:09:00.000-04:00

In 2006, we’ve had Ecoli attacks from eating spinach. Some people, who do not like spinach, thought it was the perfect way to keep it out of their diets. It’s amazing that most news stories get the gory details of every second of a catastrophe, and will replay for days, but the gory little details to stop ecoli get buried. Spinach is one of the most nourishing plants for our body, of course, without the ecoli. The solution should have been broadcasted around the world, and is a simple question we should ask ourselves. Have you ever seen a port-a-potty or any bathroom facility in a farm field? Duh! Just because it comes in a clean plastic box or bag means nothing. If you shit in your vegetable garden, would you think of washing off the vegetables? Eww! There is very little to do to make spinach safe for consumption, by simply washing it thoroughly before eating it.

The recalling of peanuts hit pretty close to home, especially here in Georgia. With a couple of people dying and many getting sick, it was scary to think that most kids ask for peanut butter. I had one of those children myself, who constantly wanted peanut butter sandwiches. My solution for this is so incredibly easy. Make the inspectors (who so called “inspected” this rancid facility only two months prior) and the president of the peanut company eat some peanuts from the bin -- together, just before signing off on the “OK” inspection. You can bet your sweet ass the peanut plant would have been shut down or cleaned up instantly, and rat shit would not have been existent in the facility.

This morning, we made our trek back home on an airplane. I’m not a “germ freak”, but I wash my hands often. In the Atlanta airport, there is a three story escalator. It carries the passengers to the train that takes you to the concourse. If you think of how many thousands of people use the long moving rail on the escalator, or the poles or straps on the train, it tends to make you think of what is on your hands. Today, I watched a woman skip out of the ladies’ room when I stopped to scrub down. A few minutes later, she was at our gate eating!!! Eww!

Now we are wondering why there is a new epidemic of the swine flu. So one person decides to get some pig excrement on them, someway, somehow, and doesn’t wash it off of them, then passes it onto someone else. The second person rubs their eye, bites their nails or infects themselves (possibly innocently) and it spreads like wild fire. It soon becomes air borne and puts so many people at risk and the entire world on alert. We need to keep tabs on the person playing with pig shit! Where is this guy and will he do it again??? Ewww!

Public telephones are bad because you get the hand and mouth thing going. If you don’t have a cell phone by now and ask to use mine, I would rather I make the call for you, than you use my phone. No offense, but I don’t know where your hands have been - or mouth, for that matter. I’d call Tokyo, if you asked, but please, let me make the call.

Which brings me to the nastiest and grossest of all - money. I’ve been to the metropolitan areas of large cities in the world. I’ve seen beggars, addicts, prostitutes. I’ve also seen where a few have stashed their money on their bodies. Eww! When she was in grade school, I saw The Baby once put her lunch money in her shoe because she didn’t have a pocket, knowing full well she wasn’t going to wash her hands between retrieving her money for payment and eating. Eww! I still have a hard time in NYC from a street vendor, knowing there could possibly be foot sweat from a seven year old on my pretzel. Eww!

There is an intelligent man I know teaching these basic skills, via videos and music, to our beloved Haitians, who were uneducated in their third world country. It’s made a world of difference when he began this ministry to teach these people. Preventable sickness can be possibly PREVENTED! We must go back to the basic skills we all learned in kindergarten. Here’s the news flash! Wash your freaking hands! Wash your fresh vegetables! Why doesn’t FOX News or CNN broadcast these simple instructions.

SAMANTHA-THE BEST EVER!

2009-04-20T18:08:00.000-04:00

There is not enough said about love in this world. We only miss it when it disappears from our lives. When our hearts are filled with grief, only then do we realize how much love had surrounded us. We lost our ole dog, Sammie, this morning. After a laborious and gallant fight for her breath through the night with RT, we knew she had little time left. This morning, in our pool of tears, we took turns holding her frail and aging body in our arms, as we got dressed and ready for the day.

Sammie’s story begins in the fall of 1994. Fresh from the divorce court, and deciding to keep my two small children, (ages six and eight) in the same school, I looked desperately for ways to be a consistent parent and not to upset their lives any more than their father and I had already. With my life in a mess and my mind in a constant fog, I searched for comfort for my small children, through the upheaval that was no fault of theirs.

On day, The Baby asked for a puppy and The Boy was insistent not to get a dog. He was continually bitten by his mean ass grandmother’s dog, and the blame was always put on him. Frustrated to protect my young ones, we stayed at hotels to avoid the mean dog (and mean grandmother). The Boy was petrified of dogs from this, and wanted nothing to do with even a new frisky puppy.

I asked The Baby to give me one good reason for a dog, and she could take her time giving me back her answer. With her next breath, she said “I want something to love and to love me back - no matter what.” With this answer, I immediately thought this six year old was getting a new puppy, but kept my decision to myself. I told them we would just look at them, knowing full well what would happen when they both saw the puppies.

Out of the 8 puppies in the room, they both chose the same one. The Baby named her Samantha. Weighing about 8 ounces, she was no bigger than a gerbil. Not only did The Boy feel comfortable, he fell in love with her in the car, before we got the new puppy home. The Baby named her Samantha, a/k/a/ Sammie. She was the kindest and sweetest dog ever, no matter what anyone else tells you about their dog. She was the absolute best dog a family could ever dream of.

This little dog gave nothing but love and affection to all of us. She was attacked by a large dog in our front yard. It was the day before The Boy departed for Nicaragua for a mission trip. The day before, The Baby had left for a trip to London. We didn’t tell The Baby until she got home, and The Boy called every chance he got to check on her. We almost lost her then. After 170 stitches and 14 drains implanted in her tiny body, I laid beside her, day and night for over a month. I talked to her, preparing her for her death, repeating what a wonderful dog and companion she had been. She miraculously survived this vicious attack. With scars going around her entire body and a limp in her step, she carried on. For the years after, all she wanted was to lay her head on your chest. I think I stayed so close to her during her recuperation, she must have heard my heart beating. It may have given her comfort on people’s chest, as the years followed.

Little Sammie became a part of our family, tied to our heart. Almost 15 years later, The Boy has a 60 pound mixed breed mutt, about three years old. He rescued him from a life of sickness and abuse from drug addicts. He was sentenced to euthanasia the week after they met. He still has hurdles to climb, but is getting healthier all the time and now has a loving home with The Boy. He can’t imagine his life without his mutt, Henry Aaron. Sammie’s incredible love for The Boy surely taught him he didn’t have to be afraid of dogs.

A few months ago, The Baby rescued a 10 month old kitten from a no-kill shelter in Atlanta. She was ready to make the commitment to raising a pet, and missed Sammie so much. The Baby wanted to take her dog with her to college. Her first year, she lived in a dorm (against the rules) in a large building in downtown Atlanta (no grass). But even if we could have said yes, little Sammie was too frail then. With studying and partying, there was no sense in taking little ole Sammie, now going blind, from her familiar home. To uproot her would have been tramatic to the dog.

I told The Baby today, the love she shared with her beloved Sammie over the years, taught her things that I could never have given her. The Baby is a vegan, and she will let a fly buzz in her house for five days, rather than killing it. She is, without argument, the most kindest human being to animals that I know. She hasn’t been having a good week, and has called me everyday for comfort since last Thursday. And I had to give her more horrible news to deal with.

The Baby and The Boy had a nice visit with her on Easter. They both petted her, and took turns holding her, and Sammie was so genuinely to see the both of them too. The little blind dog ran across the front yard and down the drive to greet both cars, as they pulled up.

Sammie helped me mother my children. In the old house, if I was working in the basement office, I would come upstairs and she would be sitting between the two, while the three of them watched TV or did their homework. She saw things I couldn’t and sometimes, did something about it. A few times, while The Baby was a senior in high school, Sammie would steal her cigarettes out of her purse and chew them up, leaving the evidence of remnants of the tobacco, paper and filters all over the house.

Too many times we take the love around us for granted. I wish we could love like our dogs love. They never need a greeting card, money or material objects to prove you love them. They want nothing in return. They want to be loved. Period. I want desperately to love like that. Being so excited and happy to see someone at the my front door, just for a hug or touch, and never to hold a grudge. The unconditional love of this little dog will be with us forever. I hope she is at peace now.

My Thumbs Are Getting Sore

2009-04-19T18:07:00.000-04:00

I've come to posting this blog from my iPhone because I am too sore to go down 2 flights of stairs to the Mac. Sounds pathetic, but true. This is also the reason for this blog. Tonight I'm talking about Twitter. I began tweeting about a month ago. Holy shit! Talk about information overload! Luckily, the information coming across can be limited and you can catch up with others' tweets when you have more time to sit diwn and sort thru it. It looks easy, at first, but gets confusing quickly. The barrage if information almost had me wanting to stop using Twitter, until I began to control the flow. YouTube has just begun offering TV shows and movies - free of charge. We can already see music concerts here among other entertainment. Its not the best TV or movies yet, but moving in that direction very quickly. Books can be downloaded from iTunes. News from any source through Twitter. Newspapers around the world are ceasing to print. My iPhone keeps everyhing I used to use in itself. My calendar, cell phone, notebook, PalmPilot, iPod, maps and computer, plus much more are now all self contained in this thing. This puts a serious crunch into many businesses including the paper business, Blockbuster and all other video rental places, cable television, long distance companies, movie theatres, Federal Experss, and shopping at you favorite store - the list keeps growing. Hell, I remember Qwip machines, adding machines with a pull handle, typewriters, carbon paper and telephones with cords. This is freakin culture shock and some people don't know about or maybe dragging their feet a bit, but this is where it's going. There's no doubt now. Our televisions will become monitors (ours is already) and we will be hooking up a computer to watch our favorite shows or movies. I stayed up late, the night Ashton pulled his millionth follower on Twitter. With CNN as his top competitor and Anderson Cooper making it more of a race by asking people on his live show to follow CNN, Ashton quickly swung us all to his personal home office, live on the web. What a hoot! Telling us all what web site to watch the tallies come in, he had about 15,000 fans screaming right along with him. He's right. The web is where our society is moving to. The sources we choose to receive our news and entertainment is held in our hands and us portable where ever we go. The only thing I can not give up would be real interaction with people. Though the social networking phenomenon is awesome, (I've been able to find some of my cousins and old friends lately), it still can not replace the hug, conversation or seeing someone you love in person.

OMG!

2009-04-07T18:06:00.000-04:00

I’ve tried to explain with words, but they failed me. I tried to explain with silence and use actions, but they have also been unsuccessful. I’m not sure what it will take for you to believe me. I almost feel guilty that I have it and you don’t. I used to wish I knew what it would take for you to turn the corner.

Please understand, I am not giving up. I just don’t feel it should be my responsibility any longer. Maybe this is bigger than anything I can do. Maybe you need to want it bad enough to believe it exists. Maybe this should be up to you, and not me. Apparently, the happiness I would feel would be amazing, but I need to take it off my shoulders. It needs to belong to you now. After all, when you own it, it will be yours - never to be taken away by any human - yours forever. I need to back away, and just hope you see it one day. It’s difficult to experience something so wonderful, and you stand on the sidelines watching.

I can not slice open my heart and show you, so you can see all of it. It has been done before, and one day you will see who did it. The I can not bear witness any better than what I have told you before. You see it, watching from the corner, but for some reason, are reluctant to reach out and grab what is yours. It is not just my opinion, but you’ve surrounded your life with people who are experiencing this same incredible experience. You have your own reasons, and no one can seem to pierce through your resistance. I’ve watched some of the magnificent beauty seep into you, but you find a way to stop it. You slough it off, as if it didn’t belong to you, yet the people around you are giving it to you directly.

So again, I will experience this incredible week. You will stand by at a distance, or looking over my shoulder. When I look at you, I see your deep thoughts. Please don’t pity me. You think I go through this week alone, but I’m far from alone. On the contrary, I have many people who stand by me, loving the same way I do, and three people, in particular, that will guide me again. I will listen intently to the quiet and feel secure, realizing how much love that has been given to me. Yes, me with all my faults and wickedness, the noise will evaporate out of my life, and the warmth will envelope me. I will store it again in my heart, trying hard to keep a part of it with me.

I know one day there will be peace for you. You have the hill to climb, but from the valley, you think the view is the same on the other side, or pretend you don’t see it. You’re wrong. When you reach the top, it’s more breathtaking than any words can describe. You hear beautiful sounds and the words poets have been chasing. All the things you never thought existed are on the other side. There is freedom and peace up there, and the path has already been made for you. It is up to you to decide to put one foot in front of the other and take the journey to the top. I still wish you could see what I see.

Deo dignus vindice nodus.

ON THE JOB TRAINING

2009-04-01T18:06:00.000-04:00

Mothers take on so many more professions than being merely mothers. With many years of parenting, self educated women take on so much more than just being the Mom. Sometimes, women have a good example to start with - their own mother. There are others without an example of good mother, and learn along the way. After reviewing some personal memories and details of my current calendar, I am overwhelmed how much I have done with my kids.

Obviously, we first take on being a maid. Almost immediately, we are changing diapers and cleaning fluids from every orifice on the infant bodies. Over the years, the maid experience will get more intense, with being able to get out any type of stain from clothing, carpets and off walls. The mischief, not owned by us, has taken us to knowing every cleaning chemical on the market, how good they work, what works best, and for the least amount of money. For evidence, you can look under the kitchen sink of any good mother. This space is reserved for the mother/maid's solutions to make her the cleaner in that house.

Another additional career taken on is nurse. We can see when children are sick or feverish and on their way down for the count. An experienced mother can kiss a forehead and be more accurate than a thermometer. We know when a sick day is required, and we know when they're ready to throw up. It can be droopy eyes or a quiet look, and a mother/nurse can have the correct medicine in the little body before others nearby have a chance to think about it. The family doctor will only be called after we have tried everything in the well stocked medicine cabinet.

A job most mothers do not like is referee, especially if there are two or more children in the house. Sibling rivalry and egotism are natural emotions parents must contend with in children. Each child has a different personality, and each case varies from day to day. The experienced mother/referee must get to the bottom of the issue, differentiate the wrong from the right, the lies from the truth, and deem the appropriate penalty for the right party. This also coincides with our ability to be the kids' lawyer, when they need a voice at a teacher conference or with a bully in the neighborhood.

Another profession we take on is detective. This one takes years to master because as they grow, the kids get smarter. They try the same sin in a various amount of ways, thinking they can pull off their crime. With additional and advanced technology today, mothers are being tested in many different ways in their detective work. An experienced mother/detective can spot a lie on her child's face (and most other's children) .16 miles away or one city block. We can and will look in the kid's bedroom when they're away from the house. We will dig into the jeans pockets and peek into backpacks or book bags. We will check in their closets, and check the caller ID on any telephone. We will listen in, when they think we're doing dishes. We will call their friend's parents and double check with teachers. And if this wasn't enough information, we will ask them point blank questions and revert back to the lies found in their expressions. When they grow, we will check their cars, smell them, watch them, even from a distance. We can detect trouble in the quiver of their voices when they call us on the phone. We can see, hear or smell when something isn't right.

This above career brings us to the profession of warden. We are the disciplinarians too. We are the ones who set the rules for the "prison" and become the judge and jury when the laws are broken. The experienced mother/warden does the pacing, yells with anger and instills the punishment. The once delightful childhood themes in their rooms, turn to a jail cell when they are grounded or sent to bed early. We are the ones who will not allow them to watch television, get on the telephone or play with anything pleasurable when they have been disciplined. We are the bad guys.

After these two jobs, instantly brings in the spirital advisor. The experienced mother will discuss repercussion, apologetic behavior and retribution. We are the moms who will talk about better ways for the next choice in their lives. We share with them how unhappy they made Mom and Dad, and God, if necessary. We will try to show them the correct path and how being bad is much more difficult than being good.

The other profession is finance manager. We can manage the household budget, and in my case, a business also, for the past 17 years. We will pick up pennies in any parking lot, and let the children laugh about it. We know how much they make, can help them with their tax returns and question them about where they have spent their money. We know how much everything costs, such as movies, junk food and CDs, whether or not we use these items. As finance managers, we must share some personal financial information with them, like how much their insurance, groceries and utilities cost us. Not for the reason of sharing the expenses with them, but only to give them the education and information for later in their lives. Any wasteful habits of theirs are quickly pointed out. We are allowed to say "money doesn't grow on trees" for as long as it takes them to understand that money doesn't grow on trees.

Another career good mothers take on is cook. A good mother/cook can make a meal out of anything in her refrigerator and pantry and make it appealing. Some meals pulled out over the years are such a success, they are repeated. Even during lean times, a well balanced hot meal can still be had by a professional mother/cook. We have even come up with 28 decorated cupcakes, for a classroom party, with only 49 minutes of notification.

We are also amazing purchasing agents. We can buy anything, and with the right button pushed, can even put a sleazy mechanic in his place. Shopping for groceries, clothing and shoes is very simple, and a good mother/buyer can do this with her eyes closed. We will put a larger job, like painting the house, new roof or a new floor out for bids. We will mull over the papers and look at every sample available to us. We will telephone when work is not up to our expectations and, by using some of our other professions, will be able to tell if a contractor is lying, drunk or lazy. This career also leads us to being the decorator. We are the only ones in the house that can see the difference between eggshell, beige, and antique white, and other women understand this talent.

Other careers are taking place now that the children are on their own. Psychologist comes to mind immediately. Listening to in-law problems, career moves, time management issues, and how to be happy. It seems this profession is the most difficult. In the future, surely there will be more jobs to be learned.

So we combine all of these wonderful experiences of being a mother, and also include part time gardener, party planner, real estate agent, photographer, travel agent, researcher, censor, zookeeper and first rate negotiator. We also add our actual job/occupation, plus wife, sister, daughter, friend and partner. It becomes mind boggling. It's a wonder mothers actually have hobbies, as there seems to so little time leftover for anything else.

I love my children dearly and I would never trade my experience as a mother. Besides all of the awesome memories and their loving ways in my life, I've received many unexpected educations with essential on the job training.

iSmile

2009-03-27T18:05:00.000-04:00

To take the most uncomfortable situation and make it funny is not really difficult for me. With the doctors and nurses in my life, I have always been able to find humor or smiles, even if it’s after I get home. I told one nurse my blood was slightly greenish in color, but she shouldn’t be surprised or afraid when she stuck me for the sample. ; ) Nothing can be so serious that we can not or should not be able to laugh about it. Sometimes it takes awhile, and maybe even years before we find the humor in our grief.

I remember going to a funeral wake, many years ago. It was a coworker’s father, and the four of us carpooled the 30 miles to the wake at the funeral home that afternoon. It was an open casket, and in our carpool group was with a young man in his 20s, who never had seen a dead body. Our friend sat, without blinking, entranced at the lifeless body. He taps me on the shoulder and, not so quietly, whispers, “I think he moved”. Fortunately, we sat in the back of the parlor. I lost it and my contagious giggles passed to the rest of our small group. We had to leave before we got caught, and watched our improper friend have involuntary shudders of terror the rest of the day.

I’ve often witnessed an angry person, ranting about something. Inevitably, someone else in the room will laugh. I’m never sure whether to laugh with the inappropriate person or listen to the screamer. If you laugh, they may get more mad or hurt. If you listen to the anger, you still hear the uncomfortable giggling in the room. It’s hard for me not to smile at the giggler.

Cracking smiles sometimes can make the damage worse. I’ve taped up an old picture near the treadmill. It’s a picture of me from a very long time ago in a swimming suit in the Caribbean. It give me motivation, and have now begun to see some of my abs toning up a bit. When RT saw it, with a smirk on his face, he said I was hot. Was??!!? Was!? was . . . Oh, well. I could have taken it better without the sarcastic grin... : )

Recently, I gave a future young bride some advice. She should choose lime green hoop skirted dresses for her wedding party. They would make her look even MORE beautiful in her wedding gown. The bride didn’t smile at all. ha ha ha --- Next to me was The Baby with a frightful look on her face, as she is in the wedding party. Her face was priceless. I don’t think the future bride took me seriously. Surely she knows I was joking -- I think.

It’s a sickness that I laugh when people get scared. With three older brothers, I learned quickly about rubber spiders and snakes, and where to strategically place them for the best fright. I learned to hide under tables and grab ankles when I was very young. As I progressed, my pranks were more planned and devious. It was a learned behavior that I laughed at scared people, and I lovingly passed this trait to my children. Actually, I think they hate me for it, yet they are still trying to “get” me.

When someone trips or falls, as long as they are alright, the wisecracks and laughter follow. Watching someone walk into a wall, or doing something silly or stupid are funny, and when I laugh, I will not make excuses for it. Fond memories are filled with smiles, even if some have been unsuitable for the event. It breaks up the intense moments and makes them a little more bearable, and makes our silly human mistakes a little easier to tolerate.

Bouncing Back

2009-03-17T18:04:00.000-04:00

Today, everything is good. The blooms are coming and the garden is slowly coming back to life, after another long winter. The rain, from the past few days, has cleared, and I look forward to getting in the dirt again. Each year, I forget about a few of the perennial blossoms, and am excited to see the beginnings of the hyacinth or paper whites. Even the lilies are showing off their green stalks, preparing for their debut this summer. The garden regenerates before my eyes.

I need the same rejuvenation. I want to lose the bad information, and retain the good. In the past year, the ugly that touched my life will still exist. As my attitude changes with the season of Lent/Spring, the dormant, listless browns begin to turn into the bright greens of renewal.

Once we are a witness, we can not “unknow” anything, and certain things are stuck in our minds forever. However, there are personal ways I lessen this ugly and bring out the beautiful, and to fill my mind with better things, so the bad seem less accentuated. The memories we make may supply us throughout our lives. I would hate to be older, and recollect nothing but the awful.

Last night, I spoke with a friend’s mother. She is 94 years old and quite an amazing woman. We spoke of the changes in her life, her love of watching Jeopardy, and even called me a “youngster”. (Perspective is everything.) My friend worries about her, but he’s too close to her. From the outside, I see an incredibly intelligent and down to earth woman, who is grateful for each day she has, and does not allow any of the bad memories steal from her extraordinary life. Today, everything is good. And that should be enough.

I received a note from an old friend, reminding me of something horrible that happened years ago. Sometimes pain can make a gash and we heal, but the scar remains. She and I had some other amazing, laughing and being young. We remember these times more than the former, because the good memories seem to always soften the bad. We’ve made plans to meet and make more memories this November, and I am so excited to see her again. We both look forward to laughing together again.

So I will fill up with new and wonderful memories for my life, looking for the cushion of the positive over the negative. I want the extra hug, the warm sun and the promise of renewal. Love and friendship, laughing and living, overtaking the gloom. The flowers are recapturing the garden into its color and true form, eloquently reminding me beauty needs to be seen and enjoyed, and not to dwell on the past cold winter.

Today, everything is good. And that should be enough.

Face Lift

2009-03-15T18:03:00.000-04:00

Every day I notice something about old age creeping in. The fine lines, under my eyes, are becoming more prominent. They seem to meet at the point where my five year old crow's feet begin. I am not one for surgery to remove these wrinkles. When I realize how I've earned these lines, it's really not so bad.

Lately, there are some things keeping me from feeling so old. I've begun to workout every day - every morning. After the initial cracks of my knees, I managed to get to 2.1 miles on the treadmill last Thursday! I've lost a considerable amount of weight, and a few muscles I haven't seen for years are toned and smiling back at me. I have a serious ab workout once a week, in lieu of the cardio, to force the aging body back into submission. The strain on my face makes the wrinkles a little deeper.

I've been able to catch up with some old friends from high school. None of us feel the last 30+ years when we speak to each other. Some online conversations have gone into the wee hours, and laughing so hard our cheeks hurt, reminding us of the long lost slumber parties. The amazing thing is, we are still talking about boys. Mostly, the same ones we giggled about years ago, plus some current cuties in our lives now. The smiles make my wrinkles deeper.

I have also made an effort with my pianos and music. It keeps my mind and soul belonging to me. It centers me and gives me an hour or two of something I like to do solely for myself. The eye strain of the music makes my wrinkles a little deeper. I've recently looked back to some of my writing from years ago. The naive thoughts I had then, remind me of talking to The Baby. She has the same innocent way of the world around her. She wants to change the world and make it better and brighter. I bite my tongue and open my heart to her. I listen intently of her ideas and ideals. My happy tears make the wrinkles deeper.

The Baby has no lines around her eyes yet. Maybe one day, she'll earn them like me.

THE REINS HAVE SLACKENED. IT WILL SOON BELONG TO THEM.

2009-03-02T18:03:00.000-05:00

The education children give parents is never ending, and it goes both ways. They are young and, though The Baby is almost a legal adult, there is so much for them to yet experience in life.

The past few years, we have watched from a distance, the conversion of teenagers to young adults, going “steady” to engagements to weddings to babies. We were with our kids and a group of their friends the other night, celebrating the engagement of one of the young couples. I have watched this young couple grow up and both, The Boy and The Baby, are in the wedding party.

To give them all of the information we have experienced through life is impossible. We give them the best, consolidated pieces of advice we can in their first 18 years. There are not enough hours in the day to have detailed conversations about everything. It takes 30 minutes to watch a sitcom on television, but an hour to explain it to someone who missed the episode. Besides the fact, they would never believe us on some things. They’ll learn as they go forward in their lives, but watching them experience things for the first time makes me smile at their naïve thinking.

I remember giving the kids their education on insurance in their early teens, and why they had to have it. The Boy honestly thought I was lying to him. It sounded like a legalized gambling ring, where you pay into it, most of your life for auto, home, medical and life. If nothing happens, you lose. Who gets to keep all this money you pay in? When he finally began to believe me, he said, “no, I don’t want any insurance”. I told him it was the law -- no insurance, no car, no freedom. : )

The education from them has been priceless as well. Myspace and Facebook were introduced by them to us. Keeping current with favorite people and music has been so much easier with these great networking sites.

The education from them has continued. A couple of months ago, I learned what a “weenus” is and most of us have two of them. I know what you’re thinking too, and I had the same thought myself. I didn’t know there was a name for that, much less one that rhymes so well with another body part. I’ll wait here while you Google it.

There is more slang I’ve learned over the years, like emo, nuff, shiznit, etc. The slang is the hardest to keep up with, but if used in a sentence properly, you can usually understand after a hearing few times. Every generation has had slang, but we only had lyrics on albums to identify it. For these new words to go across the country to the youth took a lot longer than it does now. Today, the internet has made it so much easier for their vocabulary to spread so quickly.

At the party, the parents grouped, talking of the kids and the kids grouped together, talking about themselves and each other. We felt older watching them, but it’s a nice feeling of being older. They’ve given us pleasure and we now stand in awe of them, gullible and so trusting that the world is waiting for them. We have been careful not to share in details of some events of life, because we do not want them to have certain experiences until necessary. Illness, death or other sadness is seen in their upbringing, hopefully from a distance, and quickly smoothed over by protective mothers, so their pain is minimal. Without this form of protection, they wouldn’t be the same young adults with the innocent wide eyed look at the life in front of them.

It was so much fun to share in their dreams this night. There were a couple engagements this year, and we all wondered quietly which couple would be next. After a lot of time thinking, I think this is the best time of our lives. It’s when the kids are grown, making their own decisions and we are not yet too old to really enjoy life. We are still young enough to have fun, without the worries of constant daily parenting. Twenty years from now may suck, but now is amazing to witness the innocent preparing to take over the world.

In Human Form

2009-02-26T18:02:00.000-05:00

We went to the courtroom to support a loved one. After many months, and several changes in behavior and attitude on all sides, we realized it was a mistake and could/should be forgiven.

The small Georgia town was quaint and we noticed on the cornerstone the courthouse was built in the late 1800s. It was typical of an old Southern courtroom, with oak wainscoting, dark planked floors, stained glass windows and a balcony above our heads. I could almost envision Addicus Finch in one of his speeches, with Jem and Scout looking over the balcony rail.

The room was divided in sections. The Judge, of course, at his bench, with the court reporter and his staff next to him, close at hand. The attorneys gathered in an area to our right, with the District Attorney’s and the Public Defender’s staff, below the Judge in the center. To our left, the prisoners were in their orange jumpsuits, handcuffed and shackled at the ankles, seated in rows, with the women separated from the men. All of these people were in their respected areas, divided by a small oak carved rail.

Behind all of this were the families and friends of the many defendants in the auditorium area. Although the defendants in the audience were past the prisoner stage of the judicial cycle, the bright orange duds was a sober reminder of the past.

The court wanted the prisoners to go first in their hearings, I assume so they could get them back into their locked jail cells. All others sat in the audience area with their families and waited. The men went first and each of them stood with their attorney or public defender, as the prosecutor read their crime out loud. The women were processed the same way. It looked to be a very humbling experience for them. We broke for a few minutes in the middle of the morning and returned. The prosecutor rattled off from the list of defendants in our group, but did not reach us until after the lunch break.

The audience, lawyers and staff had a mix of men and women, both black and white. The prisoners were in stark contrast to any of the other groups, and it was quite obvious and noticeable. Of the restrained criminals, all of the men were black and all of the women were white. Mind you, this is not a racial comment, but a mere observation of fact.

At the lunch break, the four of us talked at the restaurant of this observation. I wondered if white men and black women were the strong people of our society, and if white women and black men had the lower self esteem in our culture, therefore making more mistakes than the others. Also, if this is true, I am putting myself into this same category of having lower self image of myself than other people in this world. Can this possibly be true, because this kind of sucks.

Over the following week after this court date, my never ending battle began again with self reflection. It was the perfect time of year to start up my instrospection, since the Lenten season was upon me. Forty days of praying, penitence and fasting, mixed in with what I can do to make myself better with God, my neighbor, myself, and the world around me.

Last night, we received our ashes on our forehead, acknowledging we are only here on Earth for a short time, one day to revert back to ashes. Marked as Christians, but marked as sinners. Honestly, for the first time, I prayed for the forgotten and the people needing more confidence in their lives. I prayed for the lost, the ones unsure, the ones that need the leg up in life. I guess it would have been quicker to pray for black men and white women, but I know every human has felt this way in life.

I’ve had many unsettling experiences in my life - some still unsettled. I felt no better on the drive home. This chapter of life had not had the official closing I was hoping for, and it opened up my heart to some pains of other people. I continue to try to step out of my shoes and into other’s, but it spins my mind’s gears around so fast, sometimes I can barely keep up. I wonder if contemplation or prayer is enough. Is understanding what other’s are going through any kind of solution? There are some people who genuinely need help, but I am at a loss on how to get it or give it.

I must revert back to my own plate and take care of what is within my reach. Maybe some understanding of other people’s lives can turn into compassion. Maybe hope and empathy may begin a ripple.

"You never know someone, until you step inside their skin and walk around a little." -- Atticus Finch

I'M FINE, BUT THEY'RE FALLING AROUND ME

2009-02-17T18:01:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, I will help a friend with showing her something, possibly able to help her with a part of her business. Wednesday will be a day spent with family, in a courthouse two hours away. I’ve just written a two page note for this very personal matter, in hopes of helping someone. Thursday, I will check on one of The Baby’s friends, going through the same treatment I went through last month. Friday, I must call on another friend, who went through a piece of life’s horrible krap last December. Topping off the week, the Medical Team is in Haiti throughout the week. Sure - Why the hell not!!!??? May as well suck every emotion out of me over the next five days.

I’m wiped out and haven’t even lived any of these events yet. I’ve not been writing lately, because some of my words have to be put together carefully, to be used throughout the week.

It’s easy to work off the stress, divert myself or get wrapped up in something else. There is plenty of work to be done which doesn’t require such great use of my heart or mind. However, I have found replenishment to be the most difficult during these times. After a workout or treadmill run, it’s easy to drink a bottle of water and catch my breath. This type of replenishment is harder though, like a cantaloupe being prepared. It’s cut in half, and the tough exterior skin is pealed away with the flesh exposed, and the cold metal spoon carving out my guts. It will be a little hard to recapture my routine and normality, when bearing witness to some of these things. I feel the pangs and angst of these people close to me.

I’m slightly envious of older people with dementia. Sometimes I wish I could unknow some of what is in my mind. Childhood bicycle accidents and stinky diapers from years past, would be gone from my mind forever. It would be lovely to think of every challenge, or difficult time in life, could just be erased from my memory, never to be thought of again. Though, how would I have grown or learned so much, without any of them. My father’s death gave me more of an appreciation of him. Posthumously teaching me, kind, gentle and caring actions are life’s best gift given to anyone. Our actions continue to flow long after we’re gone, good or bad.

Last week, I had my annual boycott of the commercialization of Valentine’s Day. (No, RT is not allowed to get me anything.) I believe in the love St. Valentine’s shared so unselfishly. To me, there is no love in a diamond, Hallmark card or a fuzzy stuffed animal, and I refuse to be a puppet to the commercial abuse of this wonderful saint. Besides, isn’t love supposed to be shared 365 days a year???

Invariably, I’ll look for the balance. Not thirsting for the answers, but that I look to find the good in the situations we will live through together this week. I’ll try to recognize something positive no one else in the circle is seeing. I’ll look for some divine guidance for the wisdom of words, a sincere heart and a little healing.

I should be a huge pile of mush by Saturday morning.

"Make me a channel of Your peace." -- St. Francis of Assisi

www.betterhealthforhaiti.com

2009-02-09T18:00:00.000-05:00

www.betterhealthforhaiti.com

This is a web site of our friend, Mark Coughlin. One of the most talented musicians I know, (and besides being the Director of the Twinning Mission), he has dove into the plight of the Haitians, with his entire heart, talent and soul. His efforts and productions to help the people of Haiti, have been awe inspiring to witness over the past few years. I’m very humbled to know him.

Everything he touches is infectious to me, and my vow is constantly resurrected when I see Haiti through his eyes and his work. His work makes me cry and smile simultaneously. With God’s help, the word he spreads will help many people, and keep us wondering what more can be done and accomplished when our hearts are in it.

Time and time again, he has shown us there is hope for the people of Haiti.

25 Random Ass Facts . . .

2009-02-04T18:00:00.000-05:00

This began on Facebook about 2 weeks ago. It's been flying around and people adding their own stuff. It has been very interesting to see what friends have to say. The notes can be about anything.

25 THINGS ABOUT ME

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

FACEBOOK: (To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish

MYSPACE: Go to Bulletin or Blog and post. Someone should respond. I will, if you are interesting enough......

1. Artie is the best friend I ever had. (Though if I tag him with this list, I know he'll never respond.)
2. I always have Plan B, C & D ready at hand. I've been up to Plan M before, so I keep trying until I get it done.
3. I have documented my family tree for the past 6 generations.
4. My kids are more enjoyable to watch as adults. It's funny, and sometimes sad, to watch them make decisions on their own, but never frustrating.
5. I pray throughout the day.
6. I love marshmallow peeps at Easter - the pink chickie ones ONLY! They're the most nutritious!
7. My childhood was sometimes unspeakable and sometimes not worth remembering.
8. I have not been to the movies, but once, in about 25 years. I love the old movies and catch up on cable with the newer ones.
9. I've always been a writer, and have several years of journals I've kept, filled with thoughts, stories poetry and a couple of unfinished novels. Marissa is under instruction to burn after I die, but I'm sure she will read them first.
10. The past few years have taught me the inevitable life lesson of mortality, and I'm not as afraid as I used to be.
11. Whenever I need advice, I talk to my Grandmother out loud, though she passed away many years ago.
12. My extended family have been contacting me in the past year. I forgot how incredibly large of a family I have. Contacting old classmates through FB and myspace has been loads of fun!
13. I admire people who overcome any obstacles in life.
14. My father was completely an underrated man during his lifetime, and I miss him terribly.
15. The older I get, the more I realize action is much better than intentions.
16. It amazes me I'm pushing 50 and still feel like I'm 19.
17. I have naturally curly hair.
18. I love my friends, old and new. My best friend in 7th grade is still a true friend today.
19. I believe EVERYTHING should be done in moderation, and nothing should be overdone or overused. This includes drugs, alcohol, people and lame jokes.
20. I absolutely love my new iPhone and so glad I only have to carry this little thing, instead of the six other things I used to carry (calendar, cell phone, iPod, note pad, laptop, Palm).
21. Sometimes you just have to walk away and give it a rest.
22. The best thing is to find money in an old coat pocket, instead of an old Kleenex.
23. The most awesome advice in my life I received from my aunts, not my mother.
24. As a child, I remember walking to school in the snow, before girls were allowed to wear pants, and wearing skirts would make my knees beet red.
25. Without sounding prejudicial, once a geek, always a geek. If you know a kid like this, watch over the next 20+ years. I've done it and it's really quite funny. : )

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

2009-02-03T17:59:00.000-05:00

Points of view vary from person to person. From religion and politics to who is the best talk show host to the latest fashion trends. Truthfully? I don't really care to debate any of these things on a topical surface. I would like to see people get together on important issues without being classified into a category. It seems like a hopeless task, but I think there is a solution.

Instead of trying to figure out which "side" is better or more correct, why not look at something more simple. For instance, let's take the obvious crooks, thieves and take the greed out of the picture first. The State of Illinois just impeached their governor, Rod Blagojevich, for offering to sell the Obama's vacant Senator seat. Busted - on tape - impeached, yet still denying it happened.

Although I did not vote for President Obama, yesterday, he had to stop his work with all of our other issues, to deal with the peanut butter salmonella crap. The Georgia Department of Agriculture "inspected" this southern Georgia facility and last October and gave it a clear and clean rating. News yesterday says the same company owns another facility in Texas and IT HASN'T BEEN INSPECTED OR LICENSED!!! Does it sound like any inspectors are on the take here? Now the feds are launching a criminal probe. Close down the plant, take any of their money that is left, and throw them in jail! They've killed seven people, and made over 500 people sick all over the country. Any jury would and will convict them.

From the young Republican staffer, who traded his lobbying efforts for a ticket to the World Series to Hillary's questionable campaign funds to Florida's Tom Mahoney freaky sex stints to Daschle withdrawing his nomination, everything is questioned because of the character of the person. It goes on with very recent history with the New York governor and the Mayor of Detroit. The newspapers will forever stay in business with this kind of news hitting the front page on a daily basis.

There are white lies everywhere in our lives. I will not throw stones from my glass house, but the obvious takers and thieves must be weeded out of our governments - federal, state and local. The people who honestly earn their money by working and making it a better world are what we need to better our country. We need to clean this clog out of our system, because it's backing up our pipes with their sewage spewing out everywhere. Our grandchildren's history books will be filled with scandal after scandal.

There was a time when both parties represented honesty, dignity and integrity. We had a code of ethics we lived by and wanted the same of our politicians and employees of the governemnt agencies. We wanted to know we were paying taxes for better schools and roads, to pay our military personnel and help take care of people hit by hard times. It wasn't to defend people who stole from us, used us and were hypocrites when they took their oath of office. We used to look for the honesty and dignity of Marshall Dillon in our political leaders. We tested employee applicants and checked references before we let someone be responsible for spending our money. When did our standards lessen and can we get it back?

As another local scandal brews (DeKalb County, Georgia's Police Chief was just fired and unscrupulous and personal spending by Atlanta city officials), we turn on the news at 6:00 p.m., hoping to see a wonderful day, with no tragedy, no lives lost, no crooks. Fat chance!

Quit stealing and taking advantage of us. I can't wait until you're all busted.

NEW HISTORY

2009-01-20T17:58:00.000-05:00

History in the United States begins tomorrow. Bouncing off MLK's Birthday and this holiday's celebrations, our country will swear in the first African American President in our country's short history.

No matter which candidate we voted for, it's time to be Americans and support the U.S. Presidency and all the freedoms the office represents to us. Many people are posting comments about Barack Obama, his family, some making comparisons to other historical figures. I don't agree with everyone, but I do wish him (and his family) the best, and hope he is open minded to other's opinions, views and experiences. I think his eyes have opened up a bit in the past month, as President Bush shares all the necessary information with the President-Elect. No longer does he expect his promises to happen right away, but "within a year or two or longer". Of course, the job always looks easier when you are at a campaign rally with admiring people chanting your name. I hope he will be able to gracefully handle the challenges of being President, husband, father and all the other many "jobs" he has in his life.

It seems Mr. Obama is looking to President Lincoln and has attached himself to him. Fellow Illinoisians, he made his first announcement for candidacy in Springfield, Lincoln's birthplace. He took his wife and two daughters on an private outing to the Lincoln Memorial, before the crowds came into D.C. Mr. Obama has used a couple of quotes from Lincoln's famous speeches. He will be using President Lincoln's Bible tomorrow, when he takes the oath of office. (The only contradiction I see is President Lincoln was the first Republican President of the U.S.) I hope he is a comparable president to Mr. Lincoln, consistent in proclaiming fairness and freedoms to all people, and determined to make a mark in history on ALL human rights issues, no matter what others say.

The media is all lit up with this historical event. Back to back from Dr. King's birthday celebrations, people are flocking to our nation's capital, most without tickets to any of the events, just to be there and be a part of history. It's amazing to see Americans pull together like this. This country hasn't experienced such party commaradarie since we were all saddened by President Reagan's death and funeral.

Americans are so fickled, as the conservative and liberal views ebb and flow like the ocean. One point of view flows in as the other goes out, and then the tide changes. The supporters are in full force this week, but soon, some will be the critical fools again, pointing fingers and wanting the President to do some things differently. We have to realize, although the President seems to run the country, the forces of the Senate and Congress can really stop progress. If the President has any staff or cabinet members, not fully supporting the President, the progress can also slow down. Good intentions and promises in the campaign quickly become haunting for the President.

It seems the best approach would be for every American to be consistently backing the PRESIDENTIAL OFFICE. If we could all stay together, we could possibly come together and solve a few of our problems over the next four years.

Though Mr. Obama was not my candidate, there he is, ready to be sworn in tomorrow as our nation's next leader. No matter which party you belong to, no matter what your opinion is, and no matter what you believe is correct or right, I hope every American begins to support the American Presidency, and uses this new beginning to stop the nonsense of blame, questioning integrity or criticizing stupid and insignificant events. The job seems hard enough without the all the bullshit and whining, with one particular talk show "stars" are acting like they're in middle school. The new President Obama seems to be taking his position seriously, and entering this office with respect and dignity. He is making history by being our first black President. He has a beautiful family and loves them dearly, which is one of the best successes in life, in my opinion.

With either candidate, history was going to happen. I will watch and hope, as all Americans should. I will pray for the new President Obama and his family, with all the upcoming changes they will make for serving the people. I hope he sees the need for the education for our children, the struggle of the American family and challenges of the small business person. Most importantly, I hope he hears the cries of the poor, unborn and desperate, in our country and around the world.

REENTRY

2009-01-18T17:57:00.000-05:00

Juggling pills and medications lately has been difficult. I can keep up the count, but there is so much a body can take. So far, the treatment this past week has shot down my saliva glands, a symptom I've learned to live with. A dry mouth and throat often cause sudden coughs and chokes. Achy joints are worse, but I'm not sure whether to blame the treatment or just getting older. Hair a little thinner, but easily hidden, and dryer skin needs to be reconditioned.

Now that all the procedures are completed, and as I wait for the results, I dry the tears of worry and start living again. Plans need to be made for the next few weeks, and I am looking forward to getting back to my old routine.

To raise my spirits out of the tempoary pity party, I've listened to a few people this week, tell me what has been going on in their lives. The most interesting call was from my sister-in-law. She went to her brother's Senator Inaugaration, the Inauguration Ball and the accompanying festivities. She said everything was wonderful and magical, and she was so proud of him. I was matched up at my brother and sister-in-law's wedding (many years ago) with this man, only because of our heights. Over the years, he has proved to be a distinguished man with wonderful accomplishments and has a beautiful family. I've always been extremely fond of his wife, who I once went "cow tipping". (Yes, I swear!) When we see each other now, he's a little embarrassed for us and the two of us ladies uncontrollably giggle. I can only assure you that we never hurt a single cow. Everything else about that evening has remained a secret. : )

Another interesting telephone call was from The Baby. Majoring in philosophy in college, she was thrilled to have three classes this semester devoted to her major. One course has the only objective to find the meaning of life. (Again, I swear!) She is as excited as I've ever heard her. Being young, she has an opened mind to accept the challege of finding the answer before May, when the semester ends. : )

Hopefully, she will figure out that the meaning of life is whatever it gives you for that particular day. All the struggles or worries are only counter balanced with the giggles and sweeter memories. Each day is as easy or difficult as we want it to be. Nothing is this life is planned and we must break open each day as a new beginning, no matter what has happened yesterday or what will be tomorrow.

I am excited to get back to the routine, and some form of normality, by planning the weeks to come. Another call from The Baby was about our upcoming trip to Cleveland. She may try to figure out the meaning of life, but I will try to show her the simplicity of life next week, as we travel to the cold ass tundra. There is snow on the ground, and tonight the city is expecting another six inches. I've made the promises of being with big sister, vegan hot chocolate, a warm quilt on her bed and snow angels. Maybe it's just as simple as this.

One more day of isolation and I will be able to rejoin the spinning world and Monday will begin a new beginning. Not knowing everything is not as scary as last week because I now realize there is no changing what happens -- it's all up to my attitude and how I live the day. It is not to question why we are here, but to try to make the best of what we have. I hope I don't forget this by Monday morning.

A CRAPPY WEEK

2009-01-13T17:56:00.000-05:00

There is a physical struggle with illness, of course, but the emotional and spiritual struggle is by far the harder battle. The head games we put on ourselves is to believe in other people in charge of our own body. Yes, we have a lot to do with it, but when it comes to trusting doctors, nurses and priests/clergy, our illness becomes part of other peoples' responsibilities. We must also trust in loved ones, when they speak to us and hold us close to them, believing in their love and kind words. We have to trust these people know what they are doing and talking about. We have to trust enough to let go of our care and turn it over to another human's knowledge, experience and compassion.

I hate this week, because I am again, going through the daily visits to the hospital to prepare myself for a cancer treatment. I've tried to prepare my mind and body over the past month. I've gotten back to my cardio exercise to relieve stress, and the special diet to prepare my body for the radioactivity and body scan. The past two mornings, I've been to the hospital for injections and a sonogram. Unlike any other visit, the one this morning made me nauseous to the point of pulling over on the side of the highway to expel my morning coffee, being eyed by morning traffic rubber neckers to get a closer look. It was not really embarrassing, as I believe none of the people knew me personally, and I was just an oddity for them, on a normally boring commute. The physical part passes fairly quickly, and I was able to get back into the car and make the drive home.

The mental part is much tougher. Tomorrow, I will take the dreaded "poison pill", filled with radioactive iodine. Again, like last year, I pray the pharmacist who carefully measured the dosage will have a wonderful evening with his spouse, a good night's sleep, and no traffic troubles in the morning. I will knowingly and willingly take the poison, in hopes that the body scan on Friday is clear of any cancer. The poison is handed to me in a cup, as no one in the hospital will handle it or have their skin in contact with it. For a split second before swallowing, I wonder if the poison is lesser than the cancer. I pray again, in this quick moment, hoping my doctor is as good as I think he is, and his adamant knowledge of the lesser of these two evils is this untouchable poison, I will swallow and it will spread inside my body.

I will stay in isolation, as a temporary prisoner in my home, worrying and wondering if all is alright. With the promise of a two year reprieve (instead of one year) if clean, I am very anxious for the results, which create more head games within myself. Being extra cautious, I will stay away from people I know, as some have small children and a couple of young friends are pregnant. To me, there is no sense in taking any chances at all, and though some don't know or understand my absence, I do.

I begin again every year, and each time my faith is tried. It comes through for me every time, whether it is faith in another person taking care of me, faith of a loving friend, my faith in God or faith in the future. Everything has to be okay. If things do not turn out the way I expect, I don't think there really isn't anything else I could have possibly have done to make it different or better.

So, I will push myself back to normal where and when I can. For the people who know me well, it usually begins with my sense of humor. It has kept me balanced, and has offset the lower days. For instance, two years ago, several days after my isolation period, I laid in bed next to RT one evening. I told him I was nervous about the dosage the hospital had given me, I still felt radioactive and asked him to take a look at my legs under the quilt. I lifted the blanket and quiet ole RT let out a small yelp when he saw my legs glowing bright green. I had taken a glow stick and cracked it, just before he came to bed. (Ha Ha Ha!) Over the past few years, I've gotten to know the nurses in the hospital. One older lady, Jenny, has been especially kind to me. I may have to sneak a glow stick into the hospital on Friday.

2008 BEAT ME UP A LITTLE

2009-01-03T17:55:00.000-05:00

My New Year's resolution began in December, because for me, it's much easier just to continue with it. I don't have the pressure on New Year's Eve in front of friends (witnesses), with champagne clouding my mind, blurting out some empty promise I'll never fulfill.

There are so many things I've learned in the past year. It has been a roller coaster of personal emotions and events in my life in 2008, with too many things to list. My ass hurts and I'm a little banged up with all the bumps that came with last year. With the blessings of a kid married and another out of college, of the business soaring, the elections now history, and some intimate self reflection, these items were fairly easy to realize. It seemed to grow more than other years past, though it looks like a simple list.

* The older I get, the more I realize sleep is underrated.

* Do not get upset at acquaintances, because they really don't know you well enough to speak about you, like your true friends do. Whatever they say, good or bad, is pure speculation, and should be ignored, and it's is really none of your business.

* You can never know how to walk in another's shoes. Everyone should be allowed, without explanation, to behave or speak as their life experiences have lead them, even if they are hurtful or weird. Keep your heart opened to every human you meet.

* Forgiveness, acceptance and evaluation need to be a part of my life.

* Though life is busy, continue to try to maintain all of your wonderful relationships with family and friends. Sometimes, love is hard work.

* As soon as happiness leaves, sadness takes over and vice versa.

* The unexpected will always happen when you least expect it. : ) Be ready with Plan B or don't bitch about it.

* The "KISS" policy should be lived everyday -- Keep It Simple, Stupid.

* "Is it live or is it Memorex?" is more than an ad campaign. Be sure what you are looking at is real and not an imitation.

* Trust intelligent people, though you may want to disagree. They are the ones who have learned from education, experience and/or a loving mother.

Without question, faith is the best gift I've ever received.

If I could just get my brain to remember this small list, and be more prepared for what life throws at me, maybe I could have a marshmallow year in 2009 with a softer landing.

STUPID LITTLE MONKEYS

2008-12-28T17:54:00.000-05:00

I know a little innocent five month old baby who passed away two days before Christmas. There is very little explanation, though they think it was from SIDS. Everyone has been asking the infamous question "WHY?"

God gives us miraculous life. To experience life from the true beginning, and to go through the anxiety of pregnancy, a woman realizes many things. Hope, worry, curiosity, love (among many other emotions) are all felt to the nth degree. Even our smell and tastes are more acute. No good mother can or needs to explain it to another mother, as it is all mutually understood.

To think of this new life within us as a miracle is an extreme understatement. We've done very little to be in this state, and God's magnificent plan takes over. We see it, we feel it, we sense it - every step of the way, but we always know it is His plan of creation, During pregnancy, we do not take credit, but give the credit of life to Him. We can not explain this miracle of life He has given us, but we know He is there, embracing our child and helping her grow within us.

When the birth arrives, again, it is different for every woman. Every mother has a different birth experience, with hopefully, the same healthy outcome. The life of an infant, so desperately needing us, and yet another wonderful thing happens instantly to us. The nurturing and love overwhelms us, with the incredibly fast realization this child needs to be taken care of and taught. We physically take over God's plan and begin to raise the child, getting from Him unknown strength we never realized we had within us. Very soon, we confuse ourselves and think we are now in control over this tiny new life.

Some may differ from my opinion, but the miracle continues when we pass from this Earth and are Heaven bound. We just don't know how the miracle continues yet. The grandfather was asking the typical questions, when he was looking for an explanation of his beautiful granddaughter's death. He brought the subject up that we only use 10% of our brains, and he wished he could use more of his percentage, to try to understand what was happening to his family, and to give them an intelligent reason for their pain. He is yearning for the answer to ease his and the broken hearts of everyone of his family. Why would God do this to us? Why would He take such an innocent baby from us? Why would God take the happy point of our lives and make us so feel so abandoned by Him?

God has a plan, and as the Deacon at the service told us, it seems like such an easy excuse to use in a situation like this. This answer just doesn't seem to cut it when you are in such a deep pain. We compare ourselves to God, yet we are so incapable. God has given us just enough civility and brain function to confuse us. Being intelligent humans does not make us God, nor does it make us in control. We are not God, but we certainly act like it. We think we know what is best for us. We think when we're happy, we deserve it, and happiness should last forever. If it doesn't, God is the easy target to blame. It's never anything we have done to deserve sorrow, but it is always God's fault. He pulled His wrath and He laid it upon us. It becomes easier to use God as a scapegoat during these times. We try to use our intellect as reasoning for the Truth of God. If there is no evidence in our human minds, then we reject God. This is where faith and intellect could separate us from Him.

To understand the horrific times in our lives is to realize we are just stupid little monkeys. We do only use a small portion of our brain. We think it is us in control, when we are not. We think we know about the universe and we understand the entire reason for life, but we don't. We have tsunamis, hurricanes, war and horrible things around this planet. The pollutants, the killings, the sin of money and power and the unbalanced weather could not be any of our fault. We blame God. It is easy to do and if enough people say it with conviction, we just may begin to believe it. It's nice to know that us stupid little monkeys are able to blame Him when horrible things happen to us, then He forgives us so easily. We don't know why He allows bad things to happen and events like this, that seem to be so senseless. It is simply because we don't fully understand Him.

God made us stupid little monkeys, in hopes that we could understand Him one day. It may not be until we reach the end of our own lives until we understand His plan. We are not supposed to though. It puts us on the same plane as Him. We are to experience life, which includes death and heartbreak. We cling to each other now, and appreciate each person around us during this time. But aren't we supposed to always do this for every moment in our lives?

If we could go back to the pregnancy, and still give thanks, and remember the miracle He gave to us. If we could just remember, we were so fortunate to have ever had this baby girl, even for one moment. If we could just go on, without the need for reason or answers, it would be so much easier to comprehend and go on with our lives. The devastating emotions are so hard for the young parents, family and friends to bare. To think we may all always be stupid little monkeys, constantly searching for the answer for the rest of our lives. Of course, we know what is best for us, and how the universe should be. If we think this world should never have been without her, no matter what God thinks or does, it puts us in the position of the Supreme Truth. Personally, I don't want that responsibility. I still believe in life and I must continue to respect that life is given and taken by God.

As time eases our pain, we will be looking around the corner for the small fleeting moment of happiness we once knew when she was here. We will go on, knowing the happiness does exists and we could possibly have it again. It will not be the same, but the joy will come again, in God's time.

Come They Told Me - Pa Rum Pa Pa Pum

2008-12-22T17:54:00.000-05:00

The amazing week has begun. Throughout the world, many look for the miracle this week. Sometimes, they are right in front of you. There are times when events take place that no one can explain. This weekend, I had an experience which was much more than a coincidence, but a true task given to me.

Last Thursday, I had left a message with my cell phone number with a lady living about an hour away. I know her from on line and have never met her before. We both met, in person, at a Starbucks coffee shop just in between both of our homes, this past Saturday afternoon. We stood outside in the drizzle, making small talk. I liked this lady, and could see something in her eyes. She seemed in need of a little companionship. I asked if I could buy her a cup of coffee, and her eyes lit up. Another caffeine addict! I liked her even more then. The only other chore on my long list of things to do, was to stop by the grocery store. Everything else was pretty quiet at home and I felt I had some time to spare.

This being the Saturday before Christmas in a busy shopping area, the coffee house was filled and there was a long line. We continued our small chat about Christmas, her cat rescue endeavors and her sickly father. I saw the scar on her neck and asked. Yes, she was a thyroid cancer survivor. When I showed her mine, her eyes welled up, and after a big gulp, she fought back her tears.

I was off my normal path, in an area I do not normally wander. I was with a stranger, met under very unusual circumstances. After four telephone calls and messages, we had finally met and I could not explain to anyone why I was pushed to go to her. I had an unknowing connection to this woman I have known for all of five minutes. Her expression told me instantly why God had guided me to her.

We got our cappuccinos and found a table in the back. He voice was soft and quiet, and her brown eyes looked back at me in amazement. We spoke, and we shared our stories. She also told me of a few other health issues she is having. She is not quite at two years of her diagnosis, and she was scared. Like me, she quit a job she was very successful in, because of extreme burn out. I told her I knew of quite a few survivors who did this, because of the ultimate side effects of no longer having a thyroid. She did not understand, at first. I explained for me it was the aches, tiredness and unexplained lack of initiative, until I learned to have my body regulated by doctors and the meds. Getting the right dose is imperative for continuing your life, but it could take awhile at the beginning to adjust to the correct dose. My life couldn't wait during this time of bouncing back, and the business world continued to spin at its normal rapid speed. I gave it up to get the rest my body desperately needed, and to take care of my health.

I reassured her on so many confusing questions she had about symptoms. I directed her to ThyCa, the only web site that would surely help her. She was going to skip her two year check in February because of lack of insurance. She did not want to go through the RAI treatment again. She really didn't fully understand the procedure and didn't feel like going through it all. She told me she was glad she wasn't alone and there are other people out there surviving and continuing normal lives. (NOTE: Apparently, I AM "normal" to certain people.) Before leaving, she said I convinced her to make the appointment to be checked. After three long hours of talking and laughing together, we exchanged personal numbers and email addresses, promising to keep each other apprised on our treatments.

I remembered when my diagnosis came down, and how a friend's sister in Seattle helped me via email and a lengthy telephone call. I recall the calming effect she had on my worries of surgery, RAI treatments, hospitals and cancer. Knowing I wasn't the only one in the world with the same fears, she gave me the confidence to begin the fight and take care of myself. At that time, she was a five year survivor and her story gave me hope for my own future. One day, I hope to thank her in person.

Tomorrow, I will make my appointment at the hospital's cancer center for another treatment. With the promise of a two year reprieve, I can not wait to get this one over with. My treatments were delayed for four years because of doctors not having current information on the disease. When I educated myself of what I needed to do, I looked for better health care, not really knowing I was going to end up with the best doctors in Atlanta. The two week diet for the treatment begins the day after Christmas, and we both laughed when I promised my new friend I would eat anything and everything on Christmas. She has also promised to check on me in January, when I begin the treatment. : )

After the meeting, I began to think how God has guided me. I still can not believe this happened. Originally, I did not want to go, in the rain, in a shopping area congested with Christmas shoppers, on a Saturday afternoon, for the first reason of something that seemed so insignificant. However, once in my car, it wasn't forced in my heart or my mind. I gladly went, thinking I was just going to meet another nice person along the way in my life. I blasted the iPod loudly, on the way, and didn't mind the hurried people and traffic. I recall being excited about a frothy triple shot cappuccino. I loved going somewhere without having the panic about Christmas and the list of things left to do. God gave me peace and calm, and the Spirit to share my story, and listen to another's worries.

Just like Christmas, sometimes we are on the giving end, and sometimes on the receiving end. I would like to keep my mind opened to be gracious for either one. We are not alone in this world, going through the same challenges and issues, but God is with us too, guiding us. With everything rolling around in my head lately, I'm glad He got through to me. I would love to think I was quiet enough to hear God speaking to me. The people who know me personally know He was probably yelling and screaming loudly through my noise, just to get my attention. (hee hee)

Believe what you want, but tonight at Mass, I had a peacefulness that wrapped me tight. I heard, felt and experienced Him this weekend, and now I'm on the lookout for more. I am here and I am ready for anything right now, and more willing to listen for the next quiet little goad.

This is going to be an amazing week!

Getting Into The Christmas Spirit --- sort of . . .

2008-12-15T17:53:00.000-05:00

Real friends put me at ease, especially when the conversation is good. Last night, we had the best time at dinner, talking about family, kids, business, and the busy holidays. It's nice when we get together just to be together. There are always some new ideas spurning and churning during a good discussion. Time slipped away quickly, we ate dinner, then were off to a concert.

It was a wonderful Christmas concert, with a baroque style of music and singing. We sat up high in the balcony and could see straight down to the altar of the church. The choir walked in and sang the first carol with the audience. When they got to the final piece, it had a perfect ending, with trumpets blaring and the voices belting out the last note! It was so beautiful, and the songs they sang set us all in the Christmas spirit. Even the kids were mesmerized. It was amazing and we were all so proud to see one of our friends on stage. She was eloquent, as always, and graciously accepted our compliments in the lobby afterwards. Until last year, not many of her friends knew she could sing, much less in an award winning choir like this one. We were in awe last night, and this feeling is sure to stay with us for awhile.

Different desires take us in different directions. Life has more meaning when we can take a passion to the ultimate level, have accomplishments along the way, and share them with our friends. At times, it's difficult to share with our friends, even our close ones. There is not a person that knows everything about you. There are sometimes secret dreams and goals that go beyond the friendship. Unless we are willing to open ourselves up, or find the time to be together, a lot of life seems to slip through the cracks.

At dinner, we learned so much more about the people at the table, though we've known them for all for quite awhile. The conversation even had the attention of the four children at the table. It's as if the time was used wisely last night, asking the questions that none of us ever thought to ask when we first met. The talking led to smiles, then to laughter. Promises were made to clear the schedule more often.

My promise to myself is to make sure this happens. It seems life is getting shorter and I want to be sure these fine people are a part of my life. This is the enrichment I long for in friendships - what we had last night. There needs to be time to sit with the people you love and talk and share life. There needs to be this kind of conversation, instead of assuming you know them. If my life is changing, theirs must be changing too, as we found out yesterday. We learned a lot about each other.

What did I learn? I have to find out more on Vic Firth and his amazing pepper grinders. I promised to make extra homemade cannolis this Christmas, for one of our friend's father. I shared my favorite bakery location. There was going to be a Christmas get together for a certain group of people, but time got too short for the planner. She and I may do it in January or February. High school, for the two young girls there, is the same as it was when I was in high school, except you don't tell them this One looks exactly like her mother, but you don't let onto that either. We know of a newer Italian restaurant who makes incredible risotto. We think our friend wears a "lucky" necklace every time she performs, but haven't asked her yet. ; )

Now, finally, I'm in the Christmas spirit. Though I still hate my new tree with all the new ornaments, and am not looking forward to the crowds, I think I'll venture out tomorrow at lunchtime to do a little shopping. I guess I've put it off for too long.

Gaudete, Gaudete! Christus et natus!

The Story of A Dog Named Henry Aaron

2008-12-11T17:52:00.000-05:00

Hank is The Boy's dog. He and his girl were at his house, and I was over there fixing something and visiting one day. We went to lunch, and The Boy announced he wanted a dog. He had been wanting one for awhile, and was telling us how ready he was to have a dog now.

By the time we got to the Humane Society, they were closing their doors for the day. We stopped and bought a newspaper to look at the pet ads. In the parking lot, with each of us scanning the sections carefully, there was one that stood out. A two to three year old terrier mix mutt was at an animal hospital in the area. They were opened for another two hours, and we had time to go by and take a look at the dog.

The three of us waited patiently in the small room. The door opened and a very talkative young lady came in. She told us the story of this dog being abandoned because the owners were arrested for having a meth lab in their home. When the junkies were released from jail on bond, they realized they could no longer have the dog, so they asked the vet to take him. She also told us the details of the previous owners, with their gray skin and sunken eyes from the drugs.

This dog had been tied up outside, all of his short life. He was missing his two front top as well as his two front bottom teeth, from either trying to eat rocks to keep from not being fed or trying to chew himself free. He had mange and heart worms. He had not been fed and was so thin, his ribs and organs showed through the skin on his body. The collar had scarred his neck from the constant pulling. Because of malnutrition, he had lost all of his hair. When we met him, the vet had had him about three months, and he was regaining his health. The vet neutered the dog and nursed him back. By the time we all met, he had gained some weight, and was stable. All of these things tugged at The Boy's heart.

When I first saw him, I had peaked out the door, as The Boy and his girl sat waiting. The aide was walking him down the hall towards our little room. My first thought was "What a scruffy mutt! He's perfect for The Boy!" And he was. All of us immediately fell in love with him. He immediately jumped on her lap and licked her face, then did the same when he met The Boy. The Boy thought the name "Cody" was not suitable for him. He renamed him Henry Aaron. Yup, after his all time favorite baseball hero. He calls him Hank, and his name fits him well. He's the underdog that came out on top in the end.

They left for Florida today, to celebrate graduating college together, and asked me to take Hank and watch him for a week. He knew I wouldn't turn him down. I like dog sitting, especially with nice dogs. With the old girl dog upstairs, I made the basement office comfortable for Hank. This dog is amazing and has a very sweet disposition. He is the most lovable dog I think I've ever met. With everything humans have done to this poor creature, he has the best attitude in the world and loves everyone he comes in contact with. He just wants to be petted and loved. That's all he every really wanted - all along.

Hank and I took a mile walk today, just after the rain stopped. He was well behaved and listened to my commands. When a car came, I'd take in the leash and hold onto him, while the car passed. A smile and wave to the driver for being cautious and we continued walking. He was relaxed when the neighbor's golden retriever began to growl and bark. He kept walking, because I kept walking. He trusts me completely.

It seemed like an easier lesson for Hank to learn than it was for me. Recently, I've just let my heart forgive horrible events from my childhood. Reconciliation was even more difficult for me, but after many years, I think I've finally gotten there. With his loving ways, Hank is showing me my thoughts are in the right place now. It just takes enough love in your life to get there. It doesn't matter what happened in the past, and, just like Hank, the present is where I need to live.

Peace

2008-12-07T17:51:00.000-05:00

Peace
Current mood: warm

We really don't know what each other is currently going through, at any time in our lives. There are masks, schedules, and avoidance, which keep us from communicating with each other.

RT and I had a wonderful and fun time last night, both of us ducking away from the immense overflow of work we've had. Chaning the topic of our normal discussions, with different people in a different place was needed with both us. He is on a plane right now, on a necessary business trip. He doesn't really have time for it, but had to squeeze it in. Other than last night, we have both been working, almost nonstop.

I have my papers, strewn all over the table, ready to tackle the work at hand. I am trying to get everything cleared up today, so I can have tomorrow be a quiet day. It seems a bit inconsiderate, stealing a day out of our busy lives. With RT working so hard and being so far away, it is actually a good day to be self indulgent. There are three reasons for my selfishness with a day off of peace, and escaping for an entire day.

The first reason is the holy day. I've promised myself an evening of prayer and self reflection. To give up myself, spiritually, in order to be accepting to the life that was planned for me. Even for a few hours, a little peace may help me rejuvenate my being, my motivations, my center. Especially during this busy time, and with Christmas around the corner, I need to take a breath.

The second reason is a doctor's appointment. Planning for another difficult January, I will listen intently to my doctor. I have much respect for him and his careful ways. I will do what he recommends, and be on the special diet for two to three weeks, without complaining. When the week of the outpatient procedures begin, I will be fine with the drives, the waiting, the nurses, the shots. I get nervous on the third day when taking the "poison". I don't like my thoughts when it is handed to me to digest, and it being in me for two days, while I isolate myself from everyone. The worries and concerns of next month can not penetrate me. Tomorrow, I will rely on the deep breaths and the peace I bring to my mind and body. Nothing else will matter, but being calm.

The third reason is a personal goal for the end of this year, a promise I've made to myself. With an emotional breakthrough last month with the revolution that forgiveness is very different from reconciliation. I am finally able to finish writing the book, and have been working diligently to complete it. With all I've learned, and in my insomniac driven hours in the night, a finality and acceptance has washed over me. There are many past things I am able to put to rest, at last, but I need the peace of tomorrow to go forward. Though some would argue with me, the new found reconciliation has finally come, and I need prayer and the formal Reconciliation to peacefully set it down.

On Monday, all work and deeds for others will be put on hold. I've promised myself a day of reflection I have been thirsting for so long.

(P.S. Thanks, Sharon. Your take on things has given me more than you know. love you.)

I just had to post this

2008-12-05T17:51:00.000-05:00

Here is the story brought back to us by the doctor (now my GP):

"On our recent Medical Mission trip to Hinche, Haiti we had the privilege to meet Mme Accilien Jacqueline and her twelve children, ranging in age from three to eighteen. This is a family at the very edge of disaster, living in extreme poverty, who need our help in many ways.

By way of background, Mme Jacqueline is a 38 year old woman struggling to raise these twelve children on her own. Her husband passed away about 2 ½ years ago of tuberculosis and she has been doing the best she can to raise her children by reselling goods at the local market in Hinche. But soon, the situation became overwhelming and unmanageable for this single mom with no support network of friends or family nearby. Before long, there was not enough money to feed her kids and certainly nothing available to send them to school. Currently, only two of her twelve children are in school and on many days they do not know where their next meal will come from. The family eats once a day, if at all. There "home" is a ten by ten square room that is rented. The room contains only one bed that is shared, and a small table and chair. Mme Jacqueline and 6 of her kids sleep on the bed, the other 6 sleep underneath on the dirt floor. When one of the children gets sick, they all get sick due to these very tight living arrangements."

There are more details of the living conditions of this family. We were approached to "adopt" one of the children to be "Godparents". We are to help this child and family financially and spiritually, and anything given to the family would go to them 100%. RT and I adopted Lucson, the 5 year old boy.

The good news is I received an update on them today. Each set of Godparents sent school supplies and Jim delivered them in person to each child. Together, the Godparents were able to send each of the 12 children back to school, with uniforms, supplies, food in their bellies and help their loving mother with not quite as many worries.

They are some photos of their home, with 13 people living in two rooms. They now have two beds for the family, where they used to have one. The clothing line is strung across the top of the wall with all their clothes on it to keep the dust off. (You can tell their clothes are donated from Americans, as sometimes there is a silly ass saying on their shirts.) There is a small toilet out back and a tiny garden, no more than 2-3 square feet.

I wanna go back so badly. My goal is to get my immune system back, after my January stint. I really need to go back . . .

Lucson receiving our school supplies.: )

RESPONSE TO WHAT YOU WROTE ON YOUR WEB SITE

2008-12-04T17:50:00.000-05:00

NOTE TO MY FRIEND -

I had to read what you wrote a couple of times to really understand what you were saying. I hope I got it right.

For me, I just need to repeat the noise so I can hear it myself, from my mouth to my ears. It makes things clearer and I can see where I stand. It helps me point to the truth of my feelings too. When I repeat and hear my own words, it seems to line everything up, and I know further where I want to be.

Ah, and you're right. When we're quiet, we can sometimes hear more. However, until I straighten it out in my heart, I am too restless to take the time to search for the quiet. All I hear are the noises of jumbled distractions I've not settled yet.

Journaling helps to give me my emotional to do list, where I can add my hopes, and also note when I've been hurt. It helps remind me of the smiles I have had or have seen in others. It also reminds me not to repeat certain mistakes.

When putting it in writing, it creates a history of yourself. However, you have to accept the changes you've been through. When I read my journal entries made from 10 or 20 years ago, or even a few months ago, of course I've changed. My mind, my feelings, or the way I look at some things may be totally different from now. I give myself the allowance and forgiveness to change because of past experiences, or just from growing older. Fortunately, I have realized I am human.

I recognize the similarities, and yes, it is flattering. Thanks!

: )

CH CH CH CHANGES

2008-12-03T17:49:00.000-05:00

2008 is near the end, and it has been memorable. Now I feel as though 2008 was like climbing to the top of a hill - my hill. Looking down from the top, everything has a different perspective. For many difficult and simple reasons, I have learned so much about myself this year. Witnessing certain events, and being part of various decisions, has taught me how deep I can go into myself for resolution and change. On some issues, I've simply hid things away until there was more time to think about them. Decisions create changes and changes are unavoidable.

The Baby says she hates change, but I watch her now as she finally settles into her new house in the hippie section of town, turning it into a warm and comfortable home. One of her good friends will move in with her later this month. They will enjoy each other's company, and go deeper into their best friend world. From the beginning of the year to now, Baby has made the most changes in her life. Watching my child make a mistake in her life was extremely difficult. Helping her come up with the ideal solution, or giving the perfect advice was so incredibly hard. Mostly because, for many months, I was not sure if she would heed to anything - nor did I trust her. She listens more carefully now. Honestly, I am still not sure where/why/who/how the magical instructions came out of my mouth and into her ears, then sunk into her heart. As I look back now, I imagine I read them from the nonexistent parent manual I never received.

With Bob Dylan and Carl Sandburg as her heroes, and her diligent work on her philosophy degree, she has discerned the importance of her personal ripple effect by her words and actions, with the people around her. I have never met someone on the path of selfishness, turn around with such a surge of positive energy and optimism for the world and people, in such a very short time. As I reflect, she must have been looking for the change for quite awhile. The finality of it all comes to a conclusion next week, with a few more minor changes in store. By coincidence, the same day The Boy completes his college education. Change upon change upon change.

The Boy was over yesterday evening, taking the time to climb up to my part of the hill. When he called earlier in the afternoon, he sounded uneasy and restless. In one week, he and his girl are graduating college. He was nervous about the next few months of his life, and all of the changes coming their way. To top it off, he also had a Christmas tree in his living room, a gift left from a loving friend. He came home to us, and I cooked and fed him dinner. We talked and dissected everything, and decided it would be best for them to just get through the following week. After that, we would all talk again about everything else. Taking advantage of his new comfort in his mama's nest, he easily agreed with this simple point. Then we rummaged through some old decorations from his childhood Christmases, and I gladly gave The Boy everything he wanted for his bare ass tree.

Jess and Steve got married this year, so I've watched their lives change completely too. Neither thought too many things would change. When they returned home, the new wife and new husband positions kicked in immediately. Somehow, someway, their relationship became more important to them. Old married people laugh about it, but to newlyweds, it's definitely a serious change. I know discussions have taken place on having babies, holiday travel, home repairs, moving, finances and, of course, in-laws on both sides. The changes keep coming, and maybe they, too, will read the imaginary marriage manual that none of us ever received.

Whether good or bad decisions are made, change is inevitable for everyone. What matters is not change itself, and it is useless we should worry, or be wary of changes. Most importantly is where the heart is after the change. Is the person ready for the change? Has the person's heart adapted to the change? Can the person live peacefully with the result? If there are regrets of their decision, is it possible for their heart to be at ease? I reminisce now of my personal decisions and thoughts throughout this year, and it give me shivers down my spine. This year, I've seem to have traveled by the seat of my pants, at every turn up this steep fucking hill, wondering if I've taken the right path.

Indeed, with my perch on top of the hill, everything has a new perspective. Though they all had incredible changes, looking below on the kids' lives, they now seem to be getting further from my reach. The mother hen sees all her chickies in their coops, and other loving people are now in their lives, as it should be. Watching these amazing people go through life has kept my time and heart completely occupied this year. It has been an incredible journey, and all have kept me happier than I've ever been. But my head is getting back into the clouds of my changes and decisions from this year. I've not given time to think if my heart is at ease or if I've made the right decisions.

Looking at the final results, there are no complaints. Wonderful adult children making genuine decisions, the addition of a new son-in-law, business with a rapid growth spurt, and They Boy's graduation are all wonderful things from this past year. With the bittersweet memories of 2008, everything seems to have had a soft landing. From my higher view on my hill, I think I'll stay here for awhile. It's a little closer to Heaven and finally, quiet enough to hear my own heart beating.

"I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through"

--David Bowie

ANGRY PEOPLE MAKE ME NERVOUS

2008-12-01T17:48:00.000-05:00

Angry people make more angry people. How we act and the words we choose can turn a bad situation into nasty, very easily. Of course, I get angry, but to put it in check quickly is the main reason I don't react on anger. To diffuse anger is not an easy task, and, for some, it is frightening to see it fester within them. I've ranted on my blog before, based on anger towards someone or something. It is sometimes a source of release for me, but I have also learned to forgive and try to make the best of bad situations. There seems to always be something to learn when things do not go the way I have planned. Anger is an emotion we are all entitled to, except when the anger turns to aggression and more intense anger, or borders on evil. I will then leave and ignore, whether online or in person.

Since the election, there has been bashing to the newly elected. My candidate did not win, but to have enough respect for the U.S. Presidential Office will reflect my behavior and attitude. I'm sure I will not agree with everything the new President offers Americans, however, I will have enough human respect to listen to what he is saying and how he projects his ideas.

There are people, especially online, who are so angry about the election results, they seem a bit crazy. First, the color of his skin, nor his affiliation with anyone, was not why I did not vote for him. The main reason, for me, were human life issues. Our last three presidents did not fully support all the life issues, nor did my candidate this time. I know the new President does not represent all of my views, however, I'm willing to give it a go. I have no other choice anyway, other than to rant or argue about it. Though the First Amendment allows these particular people's anger to flow, it also preserves my right to write about their anger as well. I have had enough of the slurs, racial tension, especially about his wife and children. I do not want to hear it for the next four years, nor will I be a part of this flow.

Life is full of mistakes, illness, ignorance, death and other surprises. They knock us on our ass, physically, emotionally and spiritually. It is up to us and our loved ones to give us a hand or shoulder to cry on, and lift ourselves back up. Life goes on, even with the death of a loved one. We are expected back to join the world again, after licking our wounds. There is no just reason for anger in any of these issues.

My father passed away at Christmas time in 1992. Though he was sick for a long time, a "mistake" in surgery left him to lie for six months of additional suffering. He then quietly passed away, when his body could not fight any longer. Easily, I could have turned to anger but the same "mistake" was in an effort to save and prolong his life. I still, and will always wish for him to be back with us physically, but I am sure he is fine and at peace now. He would not want me to be a part of any anger or bitterness.

When diagnosed with cancer, our priest wanted me to connect with a couple of other people of the parish, who had the same type of cancer. With his great insight, I called one of them. She interrogated me on what I thought caused it. Did I grow up on a polluted river or other water source? Did I have unnecessary exposure to radiation as a child? Did I take any type of pharmaceuticals that are now off the market? Hell, I was in tears, after hearing my diagnosis, and did not want to go to this dark side of the issue. I wanted desperately to know what questions to ask the doctor, surgeon, endocrinologist. I wanted to know what to expect with the radioactive iodine treatments. I wanted to know if my body would recover, and how to explain it to my children. I wanted to know what type of fight I was heading for. I wanted to know about surviving, not pointing the finger of blame. Certainly, this intense anger and resentment would have directed my health into the opposite direction. Graciously thanking her for her input, I hung up and never called back. I spoke to another patient, a sister of a friend, and she steered me in a better direction, answered some of my questions and laid to rest most of the "what ifs" in my mind. Finding intelligent doctors and educating myself was essential to me. Being angry would have deferred my own treatment and current health.

Simple mistakes and impatience for others often spark of anger. This can't be good for us physically, or for our society, sometimes escalating to incidents of violence. American's diets are full of fast food, Federal Express and traffic that have us all in a such a hurry. Nothing is slow and simple any more. So it didn't have the outcome you wanted it to have. Maybe you know you are right and you never make mistakes (ha!). So what! No one has ever made you any promises that the right would have it all. These people appear to be so self centered, and they demand to get everything they think are entitled to, at anyone's cost! Anger is the opposite direction of right.

We all need to find our own personal way to get over it more quickly. Realizing we've all made mistakes, we all have problems, we all are in each other's life for a reason, may be ways to not let petty annoyances climb to the anger stage. Relax. Play music. Exercise. Journal. Whatever it takes so this anger doesn't elevate to evil towards one another. Find some way, because life is too short for this type of extreme behavior.
Cardinal Newman said that it is naive to think peace will be the "automatic product of any educational curriculum or the aftermath of a peace treaty". Acceptance, forgiveness and peace belong in our daily actions, to everyone we encounter. It's a shame love and compassion does not have this same intensity.

Prayers Please

2008-11-27T17:47:00.000-05:00

On this wonderful holiday of giving thanks, we bow our heads. Please add a prayer for the victims and their families of the violent attacks in Mumbai and Kabul over the past 24 hours.. We must also pray for the attackers. Pain and destruction only adds to the darkness of the misguided and ignorant.

"Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love." -- Martin Luther King Jr.

We’ve Named The Turkey Ralphie . . .

2008-11-27T17:46:00.000-05:00

When I was in the French wine business, we Americans were ridiculed [at Thanksgiving] for roasting some dry ass turkey, and calling it a celebration, and it was hilarious to them. You can say what you want about French people, but I really like them. Besides, my turkey is never dry, but they never believed me. The French only appreciated that this was the time of year they would sell the most wine in the states. They just don't understand what Thanksgiving is to us.

The airports have suffered through their busiest day today. People have been traveling around the country since last Friday evening, trying desperately to get to their destination for the holiday. I'm certain there were filled parking lots, long lines through security checkpoints and waiting to board planes. Children screaming and crying, flights overbooked or canceled and very frustrated travelers. Since it is our busiest time at work, we have a legitimate excuse not to travel for the holiday. (Any reason not to visit "Dysfunction Junction" is just fine with me!)

I have spent today visiting with The Boy and his Girl. He came this afternoon and helped me at the store buy food. His Girl came over earlier this evening, while I prepped the bird and baked some things for tomorrow. They will spend the holiday with her family, and come over in the evening for dessert. The Baby is coming to spend the holiday with us tomorrow afternoon. She's bringing two vegan dishes to the table. The past five years, I've cooked vegan, except for the big ass turkey in the oven. The rest of the traditional food was very adaptable to The Baby's vegan diet, with very little change really. The first year I actually cooked two meals, but we've learned about soy milk, vegetable margarine and other small adjustments. I'll make a mental note to put Dylan on the iPod, for The (hippie) Baby.

In past years, I have delighted in our children's friends coming over Thanksgiving evening, and joining us for dessert and RT's strong, "whup yo ass" cappuccino, and so it will be again this year. It's so wonderful to have seen these kids grow up before my eyes over the years. The paths they all have taken are different from each other's, but I get to see them once a year, all gathered together, hug, tell jokes and share stories of recent and past times. They are all young adults now, and I am so proud they come over and am included in their special time of laughter. It's the best part of Thanksgiving for me. It makes me smile.

Then onto Friday, the media is now calling it "Black Friday". This is the day when stores open at four freakin o'clock (yes, a.m.-?!?!?!?!) and people are looking for the huge sales retailers have for Christmas. Though all the workers at our office are off on Friday, RT and I will probably be working. I left the office on Tuesday at 10 p.m. with the briefcase loaded down, knowing I could make more headway over the long weekend. The rest of the city is probably going shopping this day. I just can't. I've done it once, and just can't do it again. The promises of sales and getting an extra 20% off something, but having to be at the store at 4 a.m. does not appeal to me. The parking, the rude people, the endless lines at the cashiers and in traffic are too frustrating, especially when we are all supposed to be getting ready for the most peaceful day of the year. I would rather sleep until nine, and let the sunshine through the windows, gently waking me. I would rather pay full retail for every Christmas present. I would rather work. I would rather have a finger cut off. I would rather do anything than to go shopping this day.

Saturday, I assume the "sales" continue, but I will see if I can get to the Christmas tree lot the Church runs and purchase the Christmas tree. A chili day of about 50 degrees is expected, and I'll keep the warmth in the fireplace going all weekend. Decorating the tree will easy, if I have no help from well meaning people.

I am beat from this week already, and will spend most of tomorrow finishing the cooking of this annual feast. Planning, food shopping, cooking and balancing time will come to the exact time of 4:00 p.m. Tomorrow, when we will all officially give thanks at our house and eat too much food. My exact placement of a table set and food precisely prepared to replicate a picture from a fine cookbook will take only 20 minutes to destroy, devour and demolish. Then it's up again, to clean up after the freakin mess, yet another hour or two in the kitchen.

Yet, it all seems worth it for the sake of tradition, and being truly grateful for what we have been blessed with in our lives. It has become a day of warmth in our home. A day of reflection, to just be with one another, even if for a little while, and appreciate what we mean to each other. Have a wonderful and peaceful Thanksgiving.

TALKING A BLUE STREAK

2008-11-25T17:46:00.000-05:00

To the person who wrote to me, be forewarned. I've had to defend blue before, but it's been a few years. Honestly, the last time I defended blue was during a fun and drunken rant with RT, when we were dating many years ago. RT is going to read this and say "Here she goes". So, just for you, I defend blueness, again, though I'm really too busy right now.

Thanks, I think (???), for noting my page hasn't changed in awhile. However, I kind of like the blue. No, actually I love the blue on my page. If I change the page, I promise it will still be some shade of blue. It's my favorite color (duh), but that's not the only reason. Blue is a color, but it is a state of mind and can be so many different things (like me). One could also have the blues, and I love to listen to blues music too. If you are a liberal in this country, some (but not I) wear the color of blue proudly. Be careful in the UK though, they think the opposite.

Some blues are indescribable until you see them for yourself. There is the azure of the sky overlooking the Grand Canyon, the deepest teal of the Caribbean or the cornflower shimmer in someone's eyes. Nothing compares with the symbolic purity of the veil of the Blessed Mother or the starched navy of a soldier's uniform. It is amazing to see the darkest of the midnight sky, the periwinkle in violets, robin's eggs, the mysterious blue of the Pacific Ocean, or the gleaming gray blue of a jumping fish. There is immediate attention given to the pompous blue some royalty wear, or the aqua crispness of a swimming pool. The powder blue of my children's eyes at birth when they reflected back to me. The bright turquoise earring against a suntanned neck or the cigarette blue smoke lingering in the night air. Even the coldness of steel in a city skyscraper or the electric bolt of lightning is amazing. I see all of these within the hues of blue.

Old sayings, still being used today, are still constantly spoken, acknowledged and understood. Once in a blue moon to be a rare experience. Something borrowed, something blue is good luck for a new bride. To be true blue is to be considered a loyal and loving friend. Rhapsody in Blue is a wonderful and genius success of Ira Gershwin. I have always been entertained and intrigued by Babe the Blue Ox in Paul Bunyan, the Blue Man from The Five People You Meet In Heaven and the Las Vegas Blue Man Group. When I hear "wild blue yonder", I proudly think of my father, a patriotic Air Force veteran, and other soldiers who have defended our great country.

There are small blue things that make me grin, like the bluebird of happiness, blue cheese, blue skies, Blue Dog (George Rodrigue), blueberries, blue jeans, Moody Blues, Smurfs, Blue Cross Blue Shield or the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Have you noticed Apple's default colors are blue. Microsoft Windows default colors are blue. MySpace is blue. Facebook is blue. Google is blue. Yahoo is blue. AOL is blue. Fox News, CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC all use blue. Why do you think they did this? Did you write a letter to any of them?

Out of the clear blue, you ask me about page color. Blue is an attitude, and I believe in blue. After considering your comments, there is just no other color. I hope you understand now.

HOPE, HELP & HUMILITY - HFH 2008

2008-11-19T17:45:00.000-05:00

The 2nd Annual Hope For Haiti Gala was last Friday evening and from the buzz in the grapevine, was a more successful than last year. I was so proud of JT (M.D.) when he spoke to the crowd - he took my breath away and finally, precisely spoke the words how I felt upon my return from Haiti. The band was fantastic, dinner was great, wine flowed and purses and wallets opened throughout the evening. Fr. B was there, along with the new full time doctor for the clinic. Afterwards, he was headed to New York to visit with his mother. His biggest hope of easing just a little misery of the people of his parish was certain.

After having my physical Tuesday (with the same doctor mentioned above), I realize how thorough he was, and how genuinely kind he was when speaking to me. His office staff set me up with another appointment, for a specialist later in the morning, and I was able to get swiftly through the entire process within a few short hours. All I have to do is jump in the car and write a check for my health care. Some of the Haitians travel by foot for miles and miles, taking days sometimes, in hopes to see one of the doctors or nurses during one of JT's team's mission trips. Their frenzied mission week is filled with love and hope for the people.

I am humbled to be able to have it so easy. With a life expectancy of about 42 years old in Haiti, I would be pushing the odds there at my age, and that would only be if I would have survived before the age of five. The one thing JT touched on last Friday, was being able to hold the children, ease their pain and crying. For the worst cases, they hold them, giving them arms tightly cocooned around their frail bodies, and restful passing from this world. Sometimes, knowledge, intentions and money are just not enough to save a life, though our prayers and tears want it so desperately.

There are so many problems there, it is difficult to describe which problem is more important and which cause there to support. The medical mission is vital, as they have prolonged so many lives, and have successfully treated HIV/AIDS cases and many other diseases since they began their visits. The education program is high at the top of the list, as they are learning small things like brushing their teeth and washing their hands - practices which rarely existed in this community. The water program is imperative, as this is a major source of their illness and high mortality rate. The soup kitchen is now serving five days per week, and they are striving for the full seven days, to help the malnourished and starving people. This doesn't quite cover all of their problems though. There is still deforestation, and when the four hurricanes hit them this past summer, wrecked the already wasted land and what had been built. The government has consistently kept these people oppressed for the past 80 plus years. There is a puny job market and no industry, which keeps 85% of the population in constant abject poverty.

I am so proud to be a supporter of this amazing team of people. This Friday, another person and I will pack up a pallet or two of diapers, baby formula, vitamins, prescription medicine and over the counter drugs and get them ready for shipment to Haiti. Items have been collected by a large source of the team and volunteers (and "scavengers" in the medical field), but we must also sort them, exactly as the Haitian government has instructed us to do. We hope their nonsensical rules do not change before the shipment arrives in the Haitian port.

We all continue on with our daily life and battles, but they all seem so minute if compared with others in the world.

http://www.saintmonicasinhaiti.com/

Not associated with our Hope For Haiti program, it gave us a sense of relief to see Ty Pennington and Extreme Home Makeovers to support another Hope For Haiti organization. The broadcast was the November 16th episode featuring the Frisch family.
http://www.danitaschildren.org/

LUCK OF THE IRISH - BUT I’M ITALIAN !

2008-11-13T17:44:00.000-05:00

Good things have been coming my way lately. Not only the sweet unexpected little things, but huge events have been working out very well in my life. I don't know what it is, and I know I should believe that Heaven is smiling or maybe a loved one is looking out for me up there.

I haven't had a traffic ticket in about 17 years. It sounds hard to believe, or maybe you're thinking she doesn't drive much. On the contrary, I drive often, and even travel to other Southern U.S. cities in my car. I travel twice weekly about 25 miles each way to see The Boy and 55 to 60 each way to see The Baby in the city of Atlanta. Our main highway in Atlanta is the US version of the freakin Autobahn. Crazy ass fast drivers and tailgating 18 wheeled trucks is the minimum requirement for driving on I-85. I guess I look more "normal" than the rest of them and usually stay in the first two right lanes. I let them all speed around me. It doesn't matter how fast I drive, most people still are faster than me.

Tonight I was pulled over, near my home. A county deputy in the grocery store parking lot saw me swerve around a confused lady, and apparently, didn't like that I went around her to avoid her. I wasn't sure which way she was going, so I pulled around her, rather than being hit by her. I didn't speed past her, as I was only in first gear anyway. Try to speed in first gear - impossible!

I admire the police and appreciate what they do for us. I was kind and when he talked to me, I listened to what he was saying. "I was trying to avoid being hit by her. She changed her mind and was cutting across the two lanes of traffic in her confusion, almost sideswiping me, but I understand you need to do what you have to do." While I waited, I called RT on the phone and we actually laughed about it. Just from being 17 years overdue, we figured I'd get a ticket. Then he came with a "verbal warning".

The first four months of this year were unbearable for me for too many reasons. With some amazing advice from someone, I began to concentrate on things I could actually do something about. I put all my energy into the tasks at hand. Though there are a couple of things still haunting me, the rest of the year has been awesome.

A lady friend of mine told me that I was "such a lucky person". I don't really think luck has much to do with this newfound success. I think perseverance is the key, and keeping your mind on track. Not including the "warning" from the deputy, I can already count three successes this week, one of them huge, but they were all well planned and executed. It's difficult at times, but I have been letting my brain do the work, instead of my heart, and it helps to keep the disappointments further away. My mind can change and rearrange a plan, where my heart can not and does not change emotions as easily. I am trying harder not to take things personally, while trying to see things from the other side or from the other person's point of view. Smiling more often may be playing a part too.

I know the other shoe will fall one day, but I'm going to ride this wave like a bucking bronco and hold on for dear life. : )

"Success is simply a matter of luck. Ask any failure." -- Earl Wilson

United States of America

2008-11-12T17:43:00.000-05:00

I have had to defend my vote with people, especially since the election results. Though our state won in the presidential race, some people are being incredibly mean and I don't understand it. Our country's election results have always had an ebb and flow - from party to party. Eight years of conservatism, then eight years of liberalism. It sways back and forth, and if you live long enough, you see the times change like this.

Everyone wants their candidate to win. I got my way on a few of the issues that were on the state and local ballot, but the results did not go the way I would have liked, in regards to the presidential election. So what do we do now? Some are even yelling, not asking, but yelling, about unity with the newly elected. Television, newspapers, blogs, web pages, news channels show people screaming at each other.

Not getting my way is something that I've learned to deal with since my first temper tantrum as a child. I can deal, but to unite is ridiculous. Because Grandma didn't give me a cookie when I was two, doesn't mean I didn't want it - and I still disagree with her decision, some 46+ years later! I STILL want my damned cookie, but I'm dealing with it. I didn't join the Clinton cause in 1992/1996, nor did the opposing side in 2004/2008. Bi-partisanship does not exist in this country, because there are still too many differences.

No, I will not bitch, as the emotion is not worth the time. I will not argue nor defend my vote any more either. Bitching and complaining would truly take away the reason of my vote, as I voted on my values and principles. Pointing fingers and waiting for someone to fail is opposite of my religious beliefs.

Besides, I can always see the glass as half full, instead of half empty. I have to try to see some good in the election results, beginning with it being a historical election. Yes, it will certainly go down in the history books. The second is the candidates he beat in his party's primary. Thank God! I think he, by far, is the better candidate from those who ran in their primary! Third, we got to witness a strong woman running. Although there have been some in the past, i.e. Shirley Chisholm and Geraldine Ferraro, Sarah Palin was a real contender. It's nice to see an assertive woman in a place of power, even if it is with the remainder of her term as the Governor of Alaska. It gives me hope of my place in the world, especially in the business world.

I will continue to pray, work, pay bills, and run a business and household. So far, not much has changed, nor do I expect any president or politician, from either party, to change too many things. It usually takes them 3 1/2 years to convince the Congress and Senate, if they're lucky to get their way.

I guess we'll all have to wait and see what our President-elect does and says. Though I do not agree with the final decision, I can deal with it. There is nothing I can do, but continue to be a strong American and support the Presidency of our awesome nation.

If you want to keep screaming out "unity", maybe if we could all - both parties - just quit yelling at each other, we would be more united. If we could speak to each other, and quit throwing blame everywhere, we could be more united. If we simply see that we all living in this country together, maybe we could even call this place, oh I don't know, maybe the "UNITED" States of America. Seems simple.

I AM A GOOF, THANK GOD

2008-10-23T17:43:00.000-04:00

I make mistakes sometimes, but no one is the perfect anything in this world. There is not a human on the Earth who can honestly make the claim to be perfect. You can not be the perfect spouse, friend, or candidate. We are all intentionally made with flaws. I do not like my weaknesses to be broadcast, nor pointed out. I know of most of them, and have tried to learn to be better, in spite of them.

We have no perfect talents or qualities, and just when we think we do, we are humbled by crazy ass irony. It knocks us down a peg or two, and we should learn from our mistakes. It may keep us striving for the elusive perfection, though we are never to be flawless.

Delicate surgery on an tiny baby, is an event where we pray for the perfect technique and knowledge of the surgeon. A quintessential presidential candidate does not exist today, nor have we ever had one in the past 200 plus years. It shall never be, nor has any other nation had one, nor ever will have one. The perfect parent, spouse or friend is nonexistent, as we all have had our lapse in judgment or have been selfish at times.

We may have thought we had the "perfect" meal with incredible wine, wonderful conversation on a beautiful night. Yet we know we've enjoyed the same in the past. Which time was perfect? Can it get any better? Which is the perfect singing voice - soprano, tenor, alto, bass? Or the perfect musical instrument? What is the best book written, or the finest piece of artwork ever seen? What is the perfect color, sound or attitude? The answer will vary from person to person, as none of us can ever possibly agree on perfection.

To be perfect is to be "without equal" or "second to none". There is not the perfect scheme, perfect health, perfect family, perfect crime nor perfect life. We are all on the same playing field, and the only way to be happy, would be to strive for better, and be more accepting of each others' faults. Some people have unrealistic ideals, and have expectations of perfection. A daily grind of trying to attain the unattainable is fruitless. It is egocentric and useless, and I find myself veering away from people who constantly demand unrealistic perfection.

I am intrigued with the quirk in the crowd and admire the person who easily laughs at themselves. The freaks, nutcases and odd people, even if severe, are what makes this world much more interesting and fun. It's time to get off the pedestal, shed the angel wings and be a part of the wacky world.

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night." -- Charles Schultz

HIGH PAIN TOLERANCE

2008-10-10T17:42:00.000-04:00

When we get wounded or hurt, first there's pain. Then, if we react quickly enough, we nurture and stop the wound from bleeding and getting worse. We patch ourselves up and, hopefully, learn from our error that hurt us in the first place. Everyone has scars. Sometimes they are seen on our skin; sometimes they are deep within, never to be shown to the outside world.

Some speak of their battle wounds in life, as if to compete on who has suffered more. Some hide their scars, never to disclose the injuries. Yet others speak of them, in matter of fact tones, and find no good or bad in their pains, not caring how they were inflicted, or how it was cared for.

Children learning to walk find out about pain very easily. As wobbly legs adjust to an upright position, one awkward step after another, the tumble down to the ground ends in a thump on their ass. Some will cry, but all of them get up again. As we get older, we get more wary of getting up and our next steps. We become insecure of who will help us up and who will knock us down. Sometimes it may be better to just stay down for awhile and let people pass us by, then try again on our own.

Nothing has come easily, if we were once hurt. The scars, whether we show them or not, exist. Close family and friends may know some of them. The extent of the pain, accompanying these old wounds, is only known to God and us. If we reveal them to other people, it may make us more susceptible to being hurt again. We may hide them, hoping no one notices the sorrow or anxiety. We smile and ignore, until the subject changes.

When we "step into another's shoes", we can catch a fleeting glimpse of people's feelings, whether good or bad. In our fast paced world, the allotted time to do this diminishes more each day. Some do not want to take the time to allow themselves to think of another person.

The barrage of media – television, internet, 24 hour news channels, faxes, hand held devices – have made it easy to be selfish of our own goals, and only think only of ourselves – not the person driving, walking or standing next to us. Each of us has a life, filled with challenges, emotions and past scars, yet there is only enough time to think of our independent lives. Words of sincerity and kindness are becoming items of the past. We do not take the time to speak to the people we meet each day or to be personal with most everyone around us.

Our scars will remain, and when we remind ourselves of our past injuries, the burning sensation may still linger. It may not be as sharp as when the affliction was new, but still, the stinging exists. We've learned from past troubles, and perhaps have become a bit more cynical. The only way to keep going is with a mended and forgiving heart and to take the risk to extend love. Dare to be the person who takes a few seconds for a kind word. Learn to be more empathetic to your fellow humans who have scars. Be gracious when learning of someone's loss. Pray to never become an insensitive person without a heart to feel the hurt in others. The best way I've heard it said is "To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing."

Like snowflakes, no family member, no lover, no friend, no candidate, no human has the same scars as any of us. No one can simply be perfectly understood with everything we feel or have experienced. We are all different, but sometimes people lack true sensitivity and mercy for the differences of each other. We search all of our lives, but not to find people who are like us. We look to find people who are compassionate to who we are and who we've become. Our quest is to find spouses and friends who will love us with our scars – hidden or obvious – past and future. We can only begin to find these people when we keep trying to be kinder and more compassionate to others.

Inventions & Ideas - WTF Were They Thinking!

2008-09-15T17:41:00.000-04:00

Some inventions simplify things, but some are not thought out completely. Every invention should be in the inventor's home and used by their family for a year or two first. If it's still a great idea, go for it. Some are very traditional or fashionable, and you feel compelled and pressured to using them. Make the break, people. We don't need some of these things. Some are a complete waste of time and money, and others are simply a big pain in the ass. To offset my cynicism, I've also listed the more positive invention too. I don't want to be too critical.

WORST: Mounted Toilet Paper Holders. In our recent update of a bathroom, I decided not to install the mounted TP holder. I was the only one EVER to put a new roll in anyway.
BEST: Toilet Paper.

WORST: Pantyhose. They never fit. You can't put them after a shower. Runs, twists and sheer claustrophobia!
BEST: Legs - just plain legs.

WORST: Garbage Disposals, Computers and Toilets when they don't work.
BEST: Garbage Disposals, Computers and Toilets when they work.

WORST: Plastic Wrap. This clings to everything except where you want it to cling.
BEST: Ziplocs. Drop in and zip.

WORST: Passwords & Codes. Who can remember them all?
BEST: Internet security.

WORST: Mucilage, Paste, Rubber Cement & Elmers Glue. Come on, already! They don't hold shit together!
BEST: Duct tape and Krazy Glue. To use when you really gotta stick two pieces of anything together.

WORST: Snooze Alarms. They ALWAYS cause the most trouble.
BEST: Alarm clocks, especially the wind up, loud ass ones.

WORST: Red Bull, Monster & Other High Energy Drinks. Twitchy, nervous people piss me off.
BEST: Coffee.

WORST: Caucasian Colored Bandaids. No human is this color! Barbie, Ken and GI Joe are not even this color!
BEST: Clear Band-Aids. Matches every skin color - duh!

WORST: Saccharin, Sweet N Low, Equal, Splenda. These can only help diabetics, and should be consumed sparingly. Otherwise, they are chemicals that break down into forms of formaldehyde when ingested. It's just a little scary how much of these our country consumes.
BEST: Sugar and honey.

WORST: Traps That Kill Animals. No, not a political or eco statement - it's just nasty and icky.
BEST: Critter collectors that do this for a living.

WORST: Taxes of any kind. I hate paying them. I hate having them deducted. I hate the month of April. I hate all the tax laws and criteria.
BEST: Smooth roads, good schools and great teachers.

WORST: The Shark Lawyers Commercials On TV. You can sue for thousands of dollars, for almost any reason.
BEST: You can get a quick snack or do a run to the bathroom during these one minute breaks.

WORST: Directional Sticky Notes. For the dumb asses in the world, to show them where to sign or to show them an directional arrow to point to something. This makes it so we are trusting everything is in order and we are not reviewing our tax returns or reading contracts put in front of us.
BEST: Plain old 3 x 3 Sticky Notes. They are awesome!

WORST: Skorts. Recently purchased thinking it was a skirt. What the hell?
BEST: Skorts. Okay, they're coolots!

WORST: Tiny Sewing Kits From Hotels. We take them and we never use them. They are cute, and would be convenient, if used.
BEST: Safety pins.

WORST: Junk Mail. Flyers, credit card applications, political ramblings, tiny local newspapers with nothing but ads, and they all usually go straight into the trash.
BEST: Cheap pizza coupons.

I'm just saying . . .

What We Do For A Living

2008-09-12T17:40:00.000-04:00

Occupations are born in several ways. Some train and/or go to school for their career. Some stumble into their jobs, with only hindsight and memories on the events that got them there. Some are owned or established by parents and passed down to their children. Others say theirs is a calling from God.

There are so many different occupations, it is hard to believe how many we actually encounter and use during any particular day. If you follow your footsteps, and pay close attention, it's amazing how many people of different people and careers we interact with along the way.

None should ever be taken for granted. A brain surgeon, with a delicate touch and steady hands, along with a nonstop stream of education and training, has to have his garbage picked up every week. He has to go to the cleaners or pass by a highway worker or has been taught by a 2nd grade teacher. Each and every person is important in our lives. Though not always of dire need, most just make our lives easier, and we should be more grateful of these people in our lives.

No one has walked in the shoes of another, and no one knows the path other fellow humans have traveled. There are several people I encounter during the week, that were originally natives from different countries. These several examples have all learned our language, cultures and traditions. Some have incorporated them into their home lives. They have chosen to be here, though difficulties had laid ahead of them when they began their new lives in our country. They have adapted to their new lives here, have families, with all of life's struggles and adventures. All of them are exceptionally kind people, because they are appreciative of living in a better country with undisputed freedoms.

There is also a young man who sometimes bags my groceries, suffering from multiple sclerosis. He has a difficult time picking up the heavier items to bag, but still has the perseverance to continue, without wanting others' help, to do his job with determination and a smile.

There are several people I know personally that came from very modest beginnings in their childhood. To hear some of their stories of overcoming the hurdles in their younger lives is inspiring. They are grateful to have a decent job, a warm home, and food and education for their children.

I have always made it a point to speak to and interact with people I meet, and make the time to chat with them. Almost everyone likes to share a piece of themselves with another interested party, and will easily talk, as long as they have another person's ear. Most of the stories I have heard are interesting, and I always see another smile or wave on my next encounter with them.

I've learned that these people are the most successful people I know. Not everyone can be the next overnight celebrity. Not everyone can be the next president. Not everyone can be the intellect, solving the Earth's mysteries and problems. Most of us are a part of each others' life for a reason. Though it may be a reason we do not yet understand, if we look more closely, we can very easily see how we all connect to each other.

I believe that this interconnection is usually taken for granted, because if we knew each other a little better, we wouldn't have to care for each other. Loving and caring takes precious time, and some people think they do not have the time for these brief connections. However, the link to these people and their occupations are the details that make life kind and benevolent, instead of hurried and irritating. We should get to know a little about these acquaintances along the way, and recognize their worth. This appreciation is reciprocated and continues to flow within both people throughout the day.

Since most of us are not royalty or celebrities, and we are only trying to succeed a little between birth and death, we may as well be kind. Being pleasant and polite does not take a lot of energy, nor is it a waste of time. It begins a ripple effect that is certain to come back to us. It is best said by Dr. Leo Buscaglia, one of the best teachers on the subject of love: "Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, and honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."

AGAIN, IN DEFENSE OF CATHOLICS: OOOHH WEEE, Am I Hated!

2008-09-04T17:38:00.000-04:00

The real election fight is on its way. I received a bulletin email from someone today, talking about "Pro-Lifers". Bitch, please, if you don't know what you're talking about, please keep your mouth shut. You just look uneducated and ridiculous. Also, it helps that if you take on US politics, you actually are a US citizen. This must be the only way you can get attention, so I guess I will give you some.

Again, Pro-Life for some, like myself, means no abortion, no capital punishment, no UNNECESSARY OR SENSELESS deaths of any of God's creatures, including animals, by human hands, which is truly where the argument begins. You are only listening to what you want to hear and keep taking words out of their original context. You are twisting other's words to fit your own agenda and meaning. Maybe you should wear a muzzle and listen to other's speak, and try to truly hear what they are saying COMPLETELY.

I do not like extremists, and believe everything in life is best in moderation. When you stay in the middle, you can see both sides, to your left and to your right. If you're at either end of the issues, you can't see as far as the opposite end of the line. The extremists have ruined several items in our lives, where the majority of moderates have had to pay the penalty. The attacks in the US, the war, the endless supply of new laws, the expense and need for insurance, accountants and attorneys, are all items we have to contend with, due to the extremists' attitudes and actions of some people in this world.

One item is global warming. I believe it is important and to leave this world better than you found it. A sick baby born that only lives for one day, full of smiles and hugs from his parents, completes this task. He has left his indelible mark on this world and left it a better place. (NOTE: Catholic parents would have had the Sacrament of The Anointing of the Sick, and the gates of Heaven would have very much been opened and welcomed the baby.) We need to share resources (which this country has done to a fault), and keep things better than we found it, for future generations to come. This does NOT mean that we can take everything on. We have cars and homes that use precious energy, and we purchase this energy from, usually, the ONLY energy supplier we can purchase it from, i.e. utility companies. We usually have no choice, and take what is only offered to us by the industries. We must continue to go to work, using our automobiles, or we would not be able to afford anything, including a computer for the internet, which is where I read YOUR email.

Another is buying US goods and services. I always try to use local services, when I can. I believe in the small business people in this country, and know it is what makes this nation so strong and wealthy. However, when the German or Japanese car industry, puts out a better product for less money, I will purchase foreign goods. When US wineries spray chemicals on their grape vines, I will purchase French and Italian wines, who do not use pesticides. When a company buys foreign oil at a cheaper price and the savings is passed to the customer at the pump, I will purchase that gasoline. If I didn't, again, I would not be able to afford what I spend to do my part to make the economy continue to flow. I would neither be able to make my continual charitable contributions to the sick and poor in our world.

When animals are in trouble in this world, people flock to be by their side. Yes, this is the proper and ethical thing to do. However, when there are crack babies in hospitals, only to live for a few weeks of total agony, when children are dying at the hands of "Roe vs. Wade", when a tree is counted for more than a human life, when babies are suffering in an oppressed society, like Haiti, I get a little upset at the ignorance and thoughtlessness of my fellow species. Human life should be everyone's first concern, and I get tired of them being put in second, third or tenth place. In your case, they didn't even make your list!

Basically, if there is no generation after us, because we keep allowing the senseless killing and death of our innocent children, then what the hell are we saving the world for? Don't these children deserve the same love and respect we give a dying baby whale, a dolphin in a fish net or a sea turtle or manatee? Don't we need to begin with our human race first? If we show our children that they are worth loving, unconditionally, and bring them into a world with this being their first and continuous emotion they receive, won't they be an integral part of society that will love? Won't they be able and more equipped to handle the issues worth changing in this world, such as your ecological issues? Isn't it about love and shouldn't it certainly begin with humans?

I know, personally, know a brave young girl that chose life over "choice" recently. Is life difficult for her? Of course it is! She now has a beautiful baby girl and is raising her, taking her strength and energy. She is a new young mother now, in love with her child and taking great care of her. This young mom has put her education on hold for now, and has adapted a new life around the baby. It's difficult under the best circumstances, but I am so proud of her for loving the child and making the decision of life.

Again, I adamantly believe that the saving and conserving the world resources should be constant in our daily lives, but let's not forget that we were once someone's "choice". We would not be speaking, listening, loving, and reading your message, without someone having once made the choice for us to live.

Please get your ego in tact. YOU do not make the decision on how many people live on God's Earth, whether you agree with their upbringing, their circumstances or their way of life. Only GOD makes this decision. It is very arrogant of you to think you make these decisions, but knowing you will have to explain them one day is satisfaction enough for me. I was brought into this lovely world with a quite a few bookmarks of abuse in my life. Does being a victim to a few people's crimes make my life not worthwhile? Please note, I never ended up in prison or became a piece of "social chaos", as you said I did. To you, my life should not have existed -- but then again, you are not God. He thinks my life was worth the breath He gave me. You are not listening when you say "Most pro-lifers" - you are listening to the extremists at the other end. You are so far to one side, you are not even hearing what you are saying yourself.

It is very obvious you haven't been in a Catholic Church in awhile. You do not personally know The Eucharist. You are not familiar with The Mass. We pray for the decisions of our lawmakers. We pray for the unborn babies. We pray for women to make a LIFE decision, instead of abortion. We pray for people on death row. We pray for all of God's creatures, both human and animals. Luckily for you, the Pro-Lifers (and Catholics) continue to pray for the uneducated and the ignorant.

POLITICAL/ELECTION RANT

2008-08-26T17:37:00.000-04:00

The Democratic Convention is here and for the next three days, there will be extensive coverage. Soon, McCain will chose his vice presidential running mate and the Republicans will have their three days of media circus time. And let the mudslinging begin . . .

On election years, the 8 to 10 weeks from now until election day, seems to go on forever. The phone calls, the commercials, the entire news coverage will be on the candidates: local, state and national. I remember paying closer attention to this when I was younger. We all get set in our ways and attitudes, and not much will be different for my vote this time. I am, nor no longer will be, "on the fence".

The younger generation always looks at elections in a more positive way than I do. They look at everything, hear what the candidates are saying, and have more of an open mind. They are still finding their way in this world, and many of them are experiencing things for the first time in their young adult lives.

The main reason, but not the only reason, I chose a candidate is based whether they are Pro Life or Pro Choice. I look at this first because of my life experiences. No one can take these away from me, nor my opinion, and I know many people do not agree with my stand.

However, as much as I believe in the Pro Life stance (for human babies), I also believe in a Pro Life stance when it comes to the ecology of this world. I do not believe in senseless killing of animals, nor do I believe in capital punishment. I do not believe in euthanasia or genocide either.

My beliefs cross over the Democratic and Republican lines. One is Pro Life and one is Pro Choice when it comes to babies. One party cares more about the carbon footprint of humans; one party cares more about the genocide in Darfur. One cares more about helping the senior citizens of this country; one cares more of helping the poor dispose of unwanted pregnancies. It's difficult to keep up with all the world issues, assess which are true and which are biased journalism, then vote accordingly.

There never was, nor ever will be the perfect candidate, for any of us. The day after Election Day, there will probably be a large percentage of the people of this country disappointed, as there always is. After the inauguration in January, we have to watch carefully and speak our minds. We shouldn't do this with the help of some of the biased media, but should think first of our own life, education and morals. No one else should be able to tell us whom to vote for in the election.

God tries to help us understand, but is often misquoted in his words "an eye for an eye". First, if a burglar broke into your home and stole your television set, this saying would simply mean he gives it back and all is well. That can't be right. If you run through a red light and end up hitting a car in cross traffic, would it make sense for your victim to redo it with him hitting your car?

Second, this passage is taken completely out of context. In our hurried life, we read what we want to read. These words are further explanation of the Ten Commandments, given to Moses on Mount Sinai. Until the world agrees with using the Ten Commandments in daily life, and not ripping them off the walls of state buildings, they can not be hypocritical and use them to support their reason for capital punishment. The same scripture text also tells a man how to take care of their slaves. We are more civilized than this now, some 4,000 years later, aren't we???

I no longer have the patience for hearing the half assed reasons and campaign promises we are all about to endure. Nor do I want to hear comparisons to Abe Lincoln, JFK or Ronald Reagan. Let them be your examples, but do not tell me you are like them. If you were, we would ALL be voting for the same candidate. I don't care what the polls say either. They are as accurate as a weather forecast.

Quit promising me that you are going to change shit in Washington. No one can do that, unless you have the majority support of both the House and the Senate. Good luck with that one. All previous presidents are laughing at that statement, because they couldn't change shit either. The congressmen/women and senators are laughing even louder! You will not be able to lower gas prices, you will not be able to give $1000 tax credit to all families, and you will not be able to give everyone a job. Gas prices are not controlled by the Executive Branch. Family units, in this country, have yet to be defined. Not everyone wants a job - some like doing nothing, quite frankly. You will not be able to stop the war. You will not be able to wipe your ass without approval from the House Speaker.

If you are registered to vote, get out there November 4th , no matter whom your vote goes to, it would be nice to see that the people of this country actually care about their right to vote. If you're not sure what the issues are or need help with registering, visit the "League of Women Voters" web site. They are a nonpartisan group that will help with all of these, including staying informed as election day gets closer. If you are not registered to vote, please keep the pie hole closed.

Wasted Breath and Wasted Time

2008-08-26T17:33:00.000-04:00

What if bad luck really existed or a horrible curse would be cast, simply by not forwarding those angel or friendship emails? I imagine I would be totally screwed, as I never forward them, nor do I send them back to the sender when asked. Many things do not make much sense, but still, we use valuable brain waves and cells wondering if maybe there is a small amount of truth to what we are reading or doing.

Dog, Cat or Any Pets: Talking to your pet is silly too. They may be able to tell you are happy or upset by your voice inflections, but I know mine doesn't truly understand my words. My dog just wags her tail because she is getting my attention at the moment.

Objects: Cursing at inanimate objects does not stop them from messing up. It is usually the operator of them anyway. Telling the teakettle "NO!" when it boils over does not keep it from spewing all over the stove top. Yelling at the weather man on the news, no matter how loudly, will not make the rain come. Telling him he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about, is never heard by anyone but me and the dog, and she really just doesn't understand.

Driving: When you're in your car, spouting off at someone who just took your parking spot doesn't work either. Their back is to you, and they don't really care anyway - they got the spot. Begging the traffic light to change, when you're in a hurry, never works - nor does the pleading you do, out loud and to yourself, about the cop on the side of the road who just clocked you at 75 mph. "Please don't get me, please don't get me" doesn't seem to work when you see the flashing lights in your rearview mirror.

Machines: Screaming "NO!" at the top of your lungs does not make the power failure nonexistent, when you are working on a serious presentation on the computer. Talking to slot machines or the roulette wheel does not make you a winner. It's all wasted breath.

People: Ridiculous responses are often heard too. When someone passes away, there is ALWAYS one person in the crowd that will inevitably say, "But I just saw him last Saturday!" My response in my head is always, "Well, he's apparently dead now." Another absurd question is when a reporter on the news, approaches the parent of a dying, sick or dead child and asks, "How do you feel?" What the hell kind of question is that? I, again, will forever scream at that reporter on the television from my living room, though again, it's just the dog that hears me.

Grammar: "Reverse discrimination" is not accurate and makes no sense. Discrimination is discrimination and prejudice is prejudice - no matter what color, race, sex or anything else is involved. "Irregardless" is not a word, so please quit using it. Just use "regardless". It means the same thing you are trying to say, but is correct. Who was the inventor of "permanent press"? Every piece of clothing wrinkles.

So if you love me, don't want to be cursed with bad luck for three years, don't want your hair to fall out, you will forward this to everyone in your address book.

Come To Your Senses

2008-08-19T17:32:00.000-04:00

It's amazing what triggers memories in our lives from our five senses. The smell of fresh baked bread takes my right back into Grandma's kitchen, watching her carefully taking loaves off the inside rack in her old Magic Chef oven. The taste of cotton candy will take me to parish and school picnics from years past. To hear "Isn't Life Strange" by The Moody Blues, puts me in the arms a certain boy when I was 15 years old, and will always makes me smile. ; )

They say we lose our memories as we get older, with dementia or Altzheimer's. Apparently, the part of our brain that controls our association with these specific memories (hippocampus), is the first part that atrophies with this disease. I had a great aunt with this disease, and she often rambled on about events that took place in her youth with her siblings, at the old family farm. I often wondered why her rants were so crystal clear to her, but to no one else in the room. Questioning if they were triggered by some type of deja vu or one of her five senses taking over. They may have been real or, maybe they were made up in her feeble imagination. Most would tell her she was crazy, but I played along with her conversations and asked more questions. They were interesting - crazy, but interesting.

The association of the five senses to our memory can be overpowering at times. I've instilled this in my children, unknowingly. If they come into the house and smell oregano and garlic, they want to take food back to their own homes. They are instantly hungry and give me hugs. Music was continually played very loudly in the house, during my single mom years, when my kids were growing up. I also played classical music on the piano. They are both huge fans of a variety of music. The Baby, a huge Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix fan, and The Boy loves almost all classic rock. To soothe them on their blue days, I would get them quiet, usually with hugs, and play Pachabel, as they laid still. They cheered me when I learned a new piece on the piano. Hopefully, most of the associations ignited in my motherhood, will bring smiles and sweet recollections in their years to come.

Unfortunately, it works both ways. The sound of a drill can bring me back to a mad scientist of a dentist when I was eight years old. The taste of blood, the salt of tears, and the smell of a particular cologne, can remind me of the most unpleasant times in my childhood that should never have happened and can never be forgotten.

It may seem unfair to have both types of memories, bound together. It's worth repeating that my personal way to forgiveness, is to remember I would not realize how good the good really was, unless I had had the bad. In my life, the "I Ching" philosophy of Yin and Yang has had added a new reflection of understanding in my life, as well as the title is quite amusing to me. ; )

All of this leads me to the point of this writing. To those who care for me, if I am lucky enough to make it to old age and dementia: Again, PLEASE, leave the iPod alone and the ear buds in. Once in awhile, give me cotton candy, though I'll probably make a real mess of myself. If I ramble, let it ride and listen. Don't tell me I'm crazy. I get enough of that now.

"Isn't life strange, a turn of the page, a book without light, unless with love we write." -- John Lodge