Monday, May 21, 2012

The place no woman likes to be...

The dreaded doctor visit.

Because there's nothing quite as embarrassing as wearing one of  those stupid paper gowns. I mean back in the day there were the cloth ones that had broken snaps and missing ties. They were bad enough, now there's paper. For what? To further humiliate us.

Of course, everything is like flash frozen for added comfort.

Oh, and there's always someone who thinks Muzak 80's regurgitated music is gonna make me happy. Sorry, listening to Blondie organ music only makes me want to kick someone.

You know what would relax me? Not waiting for like 45 minutes for the doc to arrive in the room. Because those cute, Eco friendly, hygienic paper gowns never ever fit right. Never.

So, yes, I'm off today to see the doc because what better way to start off the week. Love Mondays.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Because it's Friday...

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 M Schulz



It's a sign when even blogger gives me grief first thing on a Friday morning. As if to say, gotcha.

My first clue of trouble, the dogs are behaving themselves for the first time in weeks. I'm telling you, the cat is plotting something that scares even the dogs.

Speaking of fuzzballs, he's curled up on the birdcage, watching me. I think he's waiting for me to leave to use the computer.

And have you noticed when someone else is wrong, they start off an argument by pointing out all your faults. Like a checklist. Really? You don't think I have my own list of pet peeves about you??? Difference between us, I don't tear you down to feel better.

And when I'm silent, it's not because I'm not too dumb to come up with a comeback or that I'm feeling guilty. I'm plotting. Be afraid.

Lack of sleep makes me sick to my stomach. And adding copious amounts of coffee, doesn't help. But yet, I still reach for cup when I smell the rich aroma first thing in the morning. Is that like masochism or what?

Power song for everyone to blast this morning: Pink's Raise Your Glass.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Sometimes it's okay to walk away....


No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. --Eleanor Roosevelt, 'This Is My Story,' 1937
Some folks live to make others miserable. My mom was very much like that. She made it a sport of humiliating me to the point that when my college friends came by the house, they’d ask me in secret if I was adopted.
There are lots of folks like her. Some hide their meanness behind righteous words and roles of leadership. Others are right there for world to see like my mom. They’re supposed to love us, but the ones that know us best can turn into the vilest of haters.
Maybe because no one hugged them. Or gave them cookies. Or maybe they weren’t breastfed. Who knows…
Mom wasn’t evil. She was…difficult. And self-destructive. I think she was a victim of her own demons and secrets. I know I’ve described my family as dysfunctional but the truth is…they’re my family. Crazy. So not perfect. They are family, for better or worse. And I do love them. I want to make that clear. Sometimes love is destructive.
There comes a time when you find you have enough courage to leave. You don’t mean it to be harsh or cruel, but some relationships turn ugly and to save them, you have to get away.
I don’t know if my parents ever got that. Of why I had to leave Florida. My parents are both gone and truthfully I left a lot of things unsaid, especially with my mom. But I had to go. I had to stop being the victim and become victorious.

Monday, May 14, 2012

For those who like the strange...

I have many friends doing the SAD challenge...(story a day challenge). And for those who still don't know what I mean, this is the month you get to write short stories. Lots of them.

For those who need to kick start their muse (and those that like the strange) and think the zombie wars can't happen, think about this bit of creepiness: Ant zombies. I can't make this stuff up.

Let your muse run wild!

PS--since this is the third time I've had to log in and edit this post, I must make a mental note to never try posting while I'm half asleep.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Books that matter


“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies," said Jojen. "The man who never reads lives only one.”
 ― George R. R. Martin, A Dance With Dragons
As a young child I hated to read. Despised might be a better word.
If you look at me now, you’ll see I wear glasses. Very thick glasses. I also have contact lenses, which work better than the glasses. But back when I was five or six, I didn’t have either. All people saw were my strange blue eyes that constantly moved. My world was always blurry. But you know, I thought that was the norm.
So while teachers were going over the ABC song—which I learned with no problem—I couldn’t actually SEE the letters.  Some of my teachers thought I was retarded because I couldn’t identify letters. Others thought I was just being a smart mouth, but no one put my eye problem together with my academic failures. It wasn’t until third grade folks caught on.
So there was this rush to get me caught up. Large print books. Extra teachers. Extra reading classes. Extra homework. Like that was supposed to make me embrace school?
Then there was my primary third grade teacher-Mrs. Cox. She made her class read all the time. Her philosophy was, if you can read and write, you can rule the world one day.
I hated her. And…I liked her. She pushed. She taught tough love. She taught me to read. And that one year changed everything. Then I stumbled on a story called, The Witch’s Buttons by Ruth Chew—it ignited my imagination. In my mind, she is the mother of all urban fantasy. 
I read that book so many times it fell apart, and my mom threw it away. I knew it had gone out of print, but on a lark I hit search on Amazon and there were some copies for sale. I know it sounds weird, but when I think of that book—that sits on the shelf next to my desk—it brings me back to third grade. The year that changed my life forever, and the challenges I overcame.



Wednesday, May 9, 2012

This is Zeke

 His name is short for Ezekiel.
He's cute, right? So were the kids from Village of the Damned, and we all know how that movie turned out.
Don't let him fool you.
He's not even close to sainthood.
Just ask the birds. Correction. Bird. I now have one.
He's a clepto. If he can carry it, he'll take it.
He's figured out if he hangs out way up high--he can throw things down on me.
Especially while I'm sleeping.
He's a fast little bugger when I'm chasing him.
He thinks he rules the dogs, but I do believe Miss Kitty, the Chihuahua, is plotting to kill him.
I have no intentions of saving him.

(Actually, this post was all about trying to load pictures. It is a nice photo of him though.)

Monday, May 7, 2012

So…I’m here. Alive


You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
--Eleanor Roosevelt
US diplomat & reformer (1884 - 1962) 

The hardest thing for me to do is take that first step because of fears. Afraid of failing. Afraid of sounding dumb. Afraid of giving the wrong answers. Afraid of falling. (Walking and talking is a challenge for me.) Or just being noticed in a crowd. (That’s a whole different post really. Probably needs to go under a label called phobias.)
I felt lost for the longest time. I can’t say I’m living happily ever after. Nothing in life is ever put that neatly back together. Sometimes the next big thing you do in life is just re-learn how to get out bed in morning. But this new look to the blog is a start.
Sorry, I swear I won't whine ever again because life is just too short.