Wordless Wednesday - part deux

A friend from the south sent me this... WOOOOOO! (Edmonton, Ab) Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Wordless Wednesday...

Counting the days til Dana gets her new puter.... Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Manic Monday... Cruisin'

A soft breeze slowly caressing the bare skin of my leg is how I prefer waking up on a sunny Saturday morning in June. Laying on a bed with fresh sheets that had been hung out to dry, sheets that have become untucked and are loosely wrapped around my body, soft and caressing, are my idea of Nirvana. But, what I woke up to on this particular sunny and warm Saturday, back in my 22nd summer was infernal banging and foul language. I only contributed to the said foul language after I was awake, by the way. I think. Unless I was having one of those dreams again… I had spent the Friday evening out with my girlfriend Nancy who has been a constant in my life popping her head in from time to time since kindergarten. Long story short, her class came in to mine for story time. The teachers wanted the groups to mix. I invited her to share my nap mat and we’ve had an interesting relationship ever since… remind me to tell you someday about the time she nearly singed my eyebrows off in the chemistry lab. Ah yes... MY best girlfriend. Anyway, she and I had spent the night drinking Sangria (I forget how many pitchers, ... each...) and dancing. And I was now paying for it with a headache that a couple of aspirin and a lot of water had not managed to subdue. My peaceful slumber, and dreams of the very hot but completely unattainable bartender (Ok, so maybe some choice language may have been muttered in my sleep) had been replaced by the din of a work crew gearing up for a day of destruction. My neighbor was having his roof redone you see. How inconsiderate of him, doesn’t he know I enjoy some nightlife? And that I require some recuperative beauty sleep? My brain, still clouded by the mass quantities of libations clamoured for quiet. And then, it occurred to me that I had better jump in the shower, get dressed and investigate the source of the grievous offence to my peaceful, who am I kidding, sinful dreams. You see, I immediately associated the concept of the work crew with men dripping with sweat on a hot summer day, taking their shirts off with their glistening muscles flexing… wait... I lost my train of thought there for a minute… …. Ah yes, I said to myself: ‘Self’, I said, ‘get cracking! You don’t want to lose precious cruisin’ time. There are men out there! Jump in the shower, get yourself presentable, put on that new bikini and go out by the pool where you’ll see and be seen.’ Yes gentlemen readers, we women scope out the construction sites in the hope of a Lucky Vanous siting! Oh lord, I did it to myself again… So, I get out of bed and run to the shower, the sheet wrapped around my slightly sweaty body (did I mention how HOT the unattainable bartender was?). The reverberations of my every step causing me to wince in pain, oh my poor aching head… ‘Suck it up girl, there are sweaty MEN in tight fitting jeans and t-shirts and tool belts out there!’…. ….. Anyway, I nearly kill myself as I step and slip on the trailing sheet (hardwood floors and trailing sheets equate tripping and slipping hazard). After a few windmill motions with one arm, I make a snap decision and drop the sheet to the ground allowing me to brace myself against the wall and avert a tragedy. Imagine dear reader the sight of Yours truly laying spread eagle on the upstairs hall floor with raccoon eyes, Look, in the state I was in that night there was NO WAY I was going to start the make-up removal process.. I’m lucky to have landed on the bed… now if only I could remember how and where I took my clothes off…, unconscious, as two hunky paramedics attempt to revive me by … DAMN! OK.. so that was the wrong decision… I reach the bathroom, rush to turn on the shower, the sound of the rapidly flowing water remind me of nature and I take care of a few things… (ahem) turn around please, it’s one thing for you to watch me as I am about to enter the shower but I draw the line here! I have my pride! I step over the tub’s edge into the shower with my eyes closed , my head screaming at me, using some very foul language I might say, and WHOA! (insert curse of preference HERE)... Please folks, do remember to check the water’s temperature before stepping under a stream of water… I nearly went into cardiac arrest from the shock of ice cold water hitting my naked body… Imagine dear reader the sight of Yours truly laying spread eagle on the bathtub floor naked and wet with raccoon eyes,… I already explained the raccoon eyes, one night of not removing makeup will not ruin my skin for all time… lower your perfectly plucked eyebrows ladies… gentlemen I apologize for the rude interruption to the narrative… unconscious, as two hunky paramedics attempt to revive me by … DAMN! On a positive note... that was just what I needed to jolt me out of my Sangria induced haze. I reach forward and adjust the hot water. I then proceed to wash my face, yes dear reader, the racoon eyes are no more! I then wash my hair all the while daydreaming of hunky construction guys and... "oh...oh.. ow! My eyes!!... My eyes!!" ... shampoo drips into my left eye. My arms flail away as I reach out to grab a towel. Which I of course didn't bring with me as I rushed towards the shower, nearly cracking my skull open when I slipped on the trailing bedsheet. I try and hold my eye open under the stream of water, cursing the water saving shower head with epitaphs normally uttered by merchant marines and longshoremen. I manage to rinse my eye out, finish washing my body, thankful I had shaved my legs the evening before else I manage to knick an artery considering the way things were going. I step out of the shower, dripping wet. Apparently all the towels have been removed from the bathroom and fed to a mysterious towel eating beast aka the laundry hamper. I wring out my hair and walk out into the hallway, sopping wet, on my way to the linen closet to fetch towels. I tread carefully, not wanting to risk slipping on the hardwood floor because of wet feet. I grab some towels and wrap myself in one of the them. I then throw another on the floor so I can dry the water I've dripped as I go. Imagine dear reader the sight of Yours truly laying spread eagle on the hallway's hardwood floor, naked and wet sans raccoon eyes,… of course my left eye is slightly red from the shampoo... unconscious, as two hunky paramedics attempt to revive me by … DAMN! I make my way back to the bedroom, whip off the towel before having dried myself off completely, and rummage through the dresser looking for my bikini. "Aha! Found it!" I start putting on the bottom, it rolls on my wet skin.. I shimmy and jump and nearly fall over.. but I manage to put it on... I get the top on ... rush over to my dresser and comb through my wet hair.. twist it and pin it up.. tendrils falling around my face... Luckily I have a bit of a tan and there's a glow to my skin.. and all this jumping up and down got me a bit flushed (that and the thought of construction men in tight jeans and clinging t-shirts, sweating, with strong arms...) and my cheeks are rosy. I run back to the bathroom, to brush my teeth, carefully checking to make sure there isn't a stray puddle that would send me careening through a wall... Imagine dear reader the sight of Yours truly laying spread eagle on the hallway's hardwood floor, in my bikini,… of course my head is in the wall and all that's sticking out is my body.. a headless Ichabod Cranish looking bikini clad body... unconscious, as two hunky paramedics attempt to revive me by … DAMN! I run down, grab my sunglasses (I'm going to be checking out construction men in tight jeans and clinging t-shirts, sweating, with strong arms...) and head out the patio door, pausing to collect myself... I expect this... And this is what I find... Manic Monday is brought to you by the letter M... Thanks Morgen, it's a blog eat blog world! I love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Special post for Mr Tucker

My bro Travis tells me Mr Tucker (the cat) has been very curious about the computer today.. reacting to the guy-trying-to-be-sexy-washing-the-car video... Mr Tucker... this one's for you! And Radar too! Colette la chatte.. and catnip!(Yup.. she's FRENCH!) Catnip Madness For you non-cat lovers.. just enjoy the tune.. come on.. DANCE! Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smoockes and gropes!

Take offs… eh! Oh... and Busy's proof!

Let me premise this by saying that today’s post is NOT suitable for young children.. some of these will scar them for life, and there may be strong language involved… if you're lucky! So... now that I have your attention... Here are some pretty funny spoofs, or "take offs" on some well known commercials... hope you enjoy! Pantene and the insipid Kelly Ripa... hats off (or wig off?) to Nicole Ritchie.. this truly had me giggling… Not as big a gigglefit as the one Trav started me on (smooch Bro)… but close! Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Oh this is wrong… Remember the Honda commercial? The one with a chain reaction? If only Tom Cruise.. the "new" Christ (can you see my eyes? Course not.. they've rolled to the back of my head) would just keep running "Far and Away"... (Hey Vince... see that?) Put it on your desktop.. bwahahahahahahahaha! Hey Busy and Mary.. sound familiar? Vince.. please.. it was a funny.. humour... hahaha? Ok now... put the bat down.. come on.. ok... now step away from the bat... and take a picture... I feel the need to explain here.. I was challenged by my dear and funny friend Busy (All Hail The Queen Mother!). My girlie Hoochies Maryfly, Turn and Dixie were as well, we each got our own challenges... and the above picture and the picture below are proof I have succeeded in accomplishing MY mission.. with a little twist! Smooch Hoochies and Hottie! hehehehe! Here's the challenge I was issued... So Busy did me (answered the questions... y'all are twisted.. no wonder you're my friends) so I have to post it here. 1. I'll respond with something random about you. 2. I'll challenge you to try something. 3. I'll pick a color that I associate with you. 4. I'll tell you something I like about you. 5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you. 6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of. 7. I'll ask you something I've always wanted to ask you. 8. If I do this for you, you must post this in your journal. So here's what she had to say about me... 1. I thought your first name was Anndi for the longest. 2. To convince Vinny to take a picture of his 'bat'. 3. Light Blue: Calm & Soothing. 4. You are a strong woman. I admire you. 5. As with most of the SP, the Monster thread. Mostly when Dana came I remember seeing you there too. 6. Rabbit: Going from here to there at fast speeds. 7. What is your favorite genre in: Books and Music. My comments to her post: 1. It's a nickname I've had for the longest time... not sure how it started though... and I hadn't used it really for a long time until I had to come up with an e-mail addy... then it was resurrected for AI... 2. So I've convinced him.. now what? and am I supposed to post this on the blog? (TADAH!!) 3.Oddly enough blue is my favorite colour... yup.. gee since I keep whipping the hoochies and the Hottie into a frenzy... I'm soothing? ok.. calm.. yes.. especially when the proverbial s*** hits the fan (In our little e-mail group it seems I repeatedly cause Mary's jaw to drop.. but then I'm not the only one). 4. Thank you.. get it from the women that came before me. 5. She was my first AI buddy and is a precious friend. We took turns greeting, every once in a while she needed a bio break LOL.. So I ended up being the one who got Sue to come out of her shell.. and boy did she come out hehehe! (smooches to Dana and Sue) 6. That's one thing rabbits do.. I like bunnies.. lol 7. well... Books: Thrillers, biographies... Music: I don't have an absolute favorite... but I am a rocker chick at heart.. classic rock, R&B, funk... There you have it folks! The origin of the "bat" pic. Thanks Vince! Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Friday funk five...

Friday Funk Five… Get the weekend started on the right foot (or off the right foot… and off the left one.. ) BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! It's cold out there.. we gotta warm things up... Got soul? Will you ever think of this “get down” classic the same way again? Ok.. so.. here's the original.. not as skeery LOL.. Smooch Trav and Vince.. LOL Does it get better than this? The Great Sam Cooke! Travis, bro, come dance with me darlin’! There’s only word for this one... WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Shake it! BestAudioCodes.com Have a GREAT weekend folks.. friday night.. you should be dancin'!! I love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Yup.. Chicks dig guitars!

BestAudioCodes.com Happy 50th Birthday Eddie Van Halen! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Life on Mars...

BestAudioCodes.com Yesterday, the Mars Exploration Rovers turned 3!! Happy birth.. no launch.. no landing.. oh heck.. WOOOOHOOO Mars rovers! (it’s their landing date actually for you fact hungry readers). Let me ask you this, since when does any kind of technology that had a guarantee of 3 months last 3 years and is still going strong? AND getting BETTER! The folks at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory have something to be proud of! The Rovers now have some new technology to assist them in the quest for new information on the Red Planet… They’ve taught the rovers a few new tricks (roll over rover?) Beautiful pictures taken by the rovers.. This was taken by Spirit, one of NASA’s Mars Exploration Rovers on May 19th, 2005, it’s a stunning view as the Sun sinks below the rim of Gusev crater. This is a picture taken by the NASA Exploration Rover Opportunity panoramic camera. It shows (in false-colour) the dune field on the floor of the "Endurance Crater". You can find out more about the Rovers and their Mission HERE. So… guess I got a Thursday Thirteen to go with this post. This was fun guys! Hope you enjoy the variety! THIRTEEN SPACE SONGS… (have a listen to what strikes your fancy!) 1. Life on Mars – David Bowie 2. Rocket Man – Elton John Rocket Man (I Think It's Going To Be A Long, Long Time) (Live At Madison Square Garden) By Elton John BestAudioCodes.com 3. Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen from Mars – Bon Jovi Captain Crash By Bon Jovi BestAudioCodes.com 4. Fly me to the moon – so I wanted Sinatra.. but a contemporary version by a talented lady with a smooth voice if the next best thing… Diana Krall Fly Me To The Moon (Live) By Diana Krall BestAudioCodes.com 5. Space Truckin’ – Deep Purple Space Truckin' (Live Version) By Deep Purple BestAudioCodes.com 6. Joe Slam and the Spaceship – Harry Connick Jr. Joe Slam and The Spaceship By Harry Connick Jr. BestAudioCodes.com 7. Space Odyssey – The Byrds Space Odyssey By The Byrds BestAudioCodes.com 8. Star baby – The Guess Who Star Baby By The Guess Who BestAudioCodes.com 9. Walking on the Moon – The Police Walking On The Moon (2003 Stereo Remastered Version) By The Police BestAudioCodes.com 10. Third Stone from the Sun – Jimi Hendrix Third Stone From The Sun By Jimi Hendrix BestAudioCodes.com 11. Countdown – Rush Countdown By Rush BestAudioCodes.com 12. Blue Moon – this is a beautiful version (needed a strong woman’s voice in this list) Ella Fitzgerald… one of my favorites. Blue Moon (1956 Version) By Ella Fitzgerald BestAudioCodes.com 13. All Fly Away – Jefferson Starship All Fly Away By Jefferson Starship BestAudioCodes.com Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

oops!

I love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Wordless Wednesday - Time....

I love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Being at The Right Place... a helping hand...

I visited a new friend’s blog recently. The funny thing is, we have both only left each other one comment on each other’s blogs but for some reason, I felt an instant connection. Dave is a kindred spirit and his post came along at just the right time in my life. Thank you Dave. His post was about kindness, short, simple and to the point. I’ve gone back to read it several times. It reminded me again me that in our words, we can, either by making someone laugh (glad you got a chuckle from your visit here dearest Dave), by sharing of yourself... offer a helping hand, sometimes without even knowing it. And we connect. As you know dear regular reader, my mother passed away one week and a day ago. Getting the chance to care for her the last few weeks of her life have meant the world to me. She did everything for me at the beginning of my life and it came full circle as I was there to do everything for her at the end of her life. I may have found a new calling, one I didn't pursue when I went back to school. I don't know that I'll make any dramatic changes in my life in regards to this but I've been told I should have been a nurse. I have always had great admiration for nurses.. I guess in my experience with my mother I've come to the realization that when the doctors don't know what to do anymore, the nurses take over... a paliative care nurse is the hand that soothes.. the hand that brushes away the tears... the hand that steadies you as you take painful difficult steps. My cousin is a paliative care nurse. She is truly phenomenal person. So are the wonderful people that worked with me to care for my mother. Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Little stinker... pesky invader

BestAudioCodes.com I had to laugh when I came across this story and it caused me to ponder. This California skunk made me think of Jonathan (sorry sweetie, not in that way ;) really - I’m sure you smell nice). But I thought he might like to comment on this. Seems a California skunk found it’s way to Canada… you can read it in more detail here. Maybe it’s a victim of the Global Warming Trend Jonathan’s “friend” Al Gore has been talking about. The little stinker made his way into a shipment bound for Canada back in December. I wonder if he anticipated the freakish snow event that was to come in Malibu and figured if he was going to be in the snow he may as well do it where he could get a nice warm tuque. Fortunately, he was sent back from whence he came for fear that his much bigger Canadian cousins might not take too kindly to his muscling in on the lovely Canadian lady skunks (apparently he had spent a little time in Venice Beach prior to the trip) and challenge him to a face-off. Now Vince, I know you’ll have issues with the blatant disregard the skunk had for Immigration Laws… maybe I should find comfort at the thought the skunk might speak at least one of my country’s official languages… Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Dinero... and the Human Condition

BestAudioCodes.com Are humans solely motivated by money? Some people seem to think so. I read a comment on a blog I’ve found my way to through a dear friend and the comment disturbed me... I reread it thinking maybe I misinterpreted, but alas. Apparently, unless there is “l’appât du gain” ($$$), humans can never be better than average or mediocre. “Do not value money for any more nor any less than its worth; it is a good servant but a bad master.” ~Alexandre Dumas fils, Camille, 1852 We were having a discussion on socialism and it’s impact on the efficiency and adequacy of a medical system (I know.. and my brain didn’t even hurt!), and I was in full argument for argument’s sake mode (with a snarky comment thrown in here and there for good measure – anyone surprised by this? Forget I asked…). It was enjoyable and engaging but then this comment popped on. This was a comment posted on the blog and not authored by the blog owner, with whom I do not always agree but enjoy reading a great deal and respect. He does his research and stands by what he says. He may agree with the comment, but instead of hi-jacking the blog at the risk of turning into a “moonbat”, I had to express myself. And this is my space... so… So here’s the opinion put forth by my fellow reader (I am not linking to it, I’ll use quotes and well.. GREEN): “…socialism has a horrible track record of excellence in ANY profession, simply because there is no capitalistic motivation to excel.” So, since there isn’t the added motivation to excel associated with a bigger paycheck they couldn’t possibly strive for betterment (does no money automatically render one either lazy or dumb?). Track record? Where’s the data? I mean.. if you make a statement like that.. a blanket statement.. put your “money” where your mouth is and back it up! “The pure socialist society frowns on anyone exceeding the 'norm', since that may allow you to actually succeed beyond your neighbor...and that isn't "fair"”. Oh I see… In a socialist nation, where all individuals are forced to be the same, no one can excel, and they are all Cupey dolls (ok.. he didn’t call them that but hey.. it’s my space and this is the feeling I got from the post) that don’t use their brains to full capacity since no one can outshine the other by principle because it wouldn’t be “fair”!?. We are referring to Cuba here folks… “a pure socialist society”? Since when? “frowns on anyone exceeding the 'norm'” ? I don’t remember reading such a statement in Marxist theory either back when I went to college and shuddered every time I saw one of the (1,2,3,4.. I think there were 4) members of the Marxist-Leninist party walk into the common room. There you have it folks… That’s the comment that caused a visceral reaction and prompted this post, the other exchanges were challenging and interesting. “Happiness is not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort.” – Franklin D. Roosevelt So tell me dear readers, if there are any of you out there who work at a job that you love: is your sole motivation to excel to earn more money? Is that really all we are? All we have become? Because if so, I am deeply saddened and I grieve for the human condition. Let me make this perfectly clear. I am not a socialist, never have been. I recognize the flaws of the socialist ideology. But to state that people in “socialist” countries (you know, the dictatorships disguised as socialist countries) are doomed to be average, or basically no better than the weakest link in a given profession just because of a warped and misinterpreted ideology… well. At least tell me it’s because the education system is lacking and they aren’t given the proper tools and training to be good at anything (UNESCO statistics tell us this is not necessarily the case). They can’t be different from the norm and excel... it wouldn’t be “fair”?!?! Good grief! Maybe I’m wrong (oh the shock.. yes dear reader, I occasionally make a mistake – hey who typed that?) but I refuse to think of myself as a dog who will only perform bigger and better tricks to get a bigger and better treat. “Money can’t buy back all your youth when you’re old, a friend when you’re lonely, or peace to your soul. The wealthiest person, is a pauper at times compared to the man with a satisfied mind.” Satisfied mind – Jeff Buckley BestAudioCodes.com Self-actualization, satisfaction, pride… all reasons to excel. Yes a bigger paycheck might be nice, assuming I am healthy enough to enjoy my free time… should I have any… but there are so many reasons to excel besides money. Aren’t there? Can one actually say, that an economic and political model dooms its citizens to a state of mediocrity because they can never be better than the weakest link, because being better than another “wouldn’t be fair”? Can one seriously propose than the only motivation a human being has for bettering themselves and being the best they can be is a bigger paycheck? Can this be? Was this for love of money? Would you stand in front of a tank for money? Or freedom? Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall; Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the King's horses And all the King's men Couldn't put Humpty together again! Humpty Dumpty Sentado en un muro. Humpty Dumpty Se ha caído muy duro. Todos los caballeros Y jinetes del rey, Fueron a levantarlo Y no pudieron con él. I take no pleasure in the pain of others... but the symbolism makes my heart soar. Life, music, … And now for something.. well not completely different.. but with this heavy stuff I had to have some humour… If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. I love you all more than my luggage (even the expensive kind)! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

"To sleep, perchance to dream, there's the rub" - The Bard

"We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep." The Tempest - William Shakespeare Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

The power of words - a rant... be warned!

Why is it people seem to feel an urge to give advice to others? Why is it they take the power of words for granted? Be warned I’m going to rant… this is not a funny and light post… I’m not in a funny light mood! I’ve witnessed comments that reflect double standards, people not minding their own business offering advice when it is unsolicited, and opinions given where they are unwarranted and it annoys the hell out of me. Now, don’t get me wrong… I’ve not actually been the recipient of said comments, but I’ve witnessed them or have been told of them. And there’s nothing wrong with words of encouragement in response to a post about what one is going through, be it by sharing experience or just offering support. They are godsends and are a reflection of the truly caring nature of the human soul. It’s one thing to offer words of encouragement when one of our group or someone puts something out into the bloggosphere. We’ve formed little groups and communities of folks who although many have never met, have become as close as possible without physical proximity… and in some cases closer because the little bit of anonymity that is preserved through that absence of contact allows for declarations, confessions of things we might not actually say to those around us at times.. So many of the people I’ve met online, either through Soul Patrol or my adventures in blogging have become touchstones when I just need to get something out (an urge that does not happen very often). I cherish the support given by those who venture to comment when I decide to put something personal out there. But when we seem to get it in our heads that we have the answers to questions that aren’t even asked of us and proceed to dish out said unwanted advice, it makes me want to throw my hands up in the air. And after I do, I feel the need to don the Riot Pants that some are familiar with. It’s not that it isn’t well meaning, but some comments can hurt as words are very powerful and should be used wisely. We all make mistakes... but when someone asks us to drop a subject... drop the subject. On another note… here’s the double standard rant... Sorry, but when I get in this kind of mood.. I can’t help myself. This is a weight issue is if you’re sensitive to this you might not want to read on… Let’s keep this is mind… Anorexia and bulimia are pervasive and life-threatening illnesses. Just as it can be deemed inappropriate to make “fat” jokes people need to be careful about “give the girl a sammich” comments. As I wrote this I was sitting in my mother’s room. She was nothing but skin and bones…Why? Not because someone didn’t feed her a “sammich”... but because she was dying of cancer, as my regular readers know. Thyroid problems, addictions, cancer, and stress are all medical (and the list is not exhaustive) causes for dramatic weight loss… It’s uncomfortable for some people to see someone that falls into the “too-thin” category. The scope of this category is different depending on your mind set. I am the mother of a young girl, and I hope to build her self-esteem to a point that she realizes her worth has nothing to do with her weight. Now maybe if we all worked toward this goal we wouldn’t even care if someone is a size 2 or 22. You know that “society” we like to blame for being responsible for these body issues? The ever present “them” and the infamous “they”? Well guess what.. WE ARE SOCIETY. I want my daughter healthy. Believe me I’m VERY aware that without health, NOTHING matters. As long as she is at a healthy weight for her bone and muscle structure... and not at an extreme of the weight scale with the medical issues it brings on, then I don’t care. I’ll smack anybody who tells me: “easy for you to say… you’re thin!” My frame is in great part the result of genetics... and a very nervous metabolism… is no where near perfect (cause that doesn’t exist) but I’m healthy and that’s all I care about. People who are “too thin” may be in that state for a plethora of reasons… if they are ill the last thing they need to help them with their recovery is to be saddled with body image issues… (for some reason the issue gets more attention in relation to women – I’m leaving that alone for now). If the illness is one that has important psychological causes (anorexia, depression, bulimia), then how are you helping them by making comments like “give the girl a sammich”? If you are a close friend.. maybe it is your place to comment if it can help save their life.. if you are a stranger… it can be hurtful and falls under the none of your damn business category. And is just as rude as a fat joke… By the way, such comments, if they come from concern, should be made privately… public finger pointing and humiliation and harmful. And now part three… This one also falls under the “words are powerful” category. Humour can hurt. Recently, as I was sitting at my mother’s wake, one of my dear friends was deeply hurt by what one person meant as a “harmless” joke in a chat room. The upheaval that ensued is something I’m glad I missed. It lead to e-mails, hurt, anger and a chat room closing. All because of two words that when put together should not, in my opinion, be used as a joke. The person who signed on using that particular moniker ( that I shall not repeat) had no idea that it would cause so much hurt.. it’s nothing to be laughed about regardless, but it’s potency was amplified by the recent events a member of my “family by choice” has gone through. (Sweetie, I heard about your loss and I keep you in my thoughts.) Some comedians make a living off topics that are “offensive” and it’s their right, and if you don’t like that particular brand of comedy then you don’t go to their gigs, you don’t watch their HBO special and you tune out. But people have a choice about whether or not they wish to subject themselves to it. Does it fall under the category of free speech? Maybe… Should someone like Michael Richards be drawn and quartered for using the word he did in a comedy club? I’m not going to decide that… Who is the keeper of the moral barometer to which we can hold words up to? Not me. All I can say is… think before you speak or write and ask yourself: Should I? Can I hurt someone? Is this too important for me to let be? Do I really need to say this? I know I asked myself these questions and you must know the answer since I’m posting this. I feel much better now. If you made it this far and aren’t offended, thank you for reading.. If this post upset you… maybe you should have paid attention to my warning… and you should have clicked the “next blog” button but, thank you for reading. I won’t apologize. It’s my opinion and I’m entitled to it… this is my space after all and not a public forum or chat room. And if someone says something that hurts you personally, you might want to tell them privately and resolve the issue without dragging others into it and making them feel uncomfortable. I normally wouldn’t post this kind of public rant, but the purpose is to provoke thought… feel free to agree or not. But be respectful. Love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Rest

My mother has joined the ranks of the Angels. Her soul was freed from a body that caused her a great deal of pain at 13h35 this afternoon. I was there to hold her hand and kiss her as she passed. She is now with the ones she loves who have gone before her and prepared her place. I feel her guiding me in the right direction. Thank you for all the kind and wonderful words of love and support... I love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

It's quite strange really...

My mother lies dying and she fights for every second. People walk by her room, stop to ask how she is... come to stand by her... hold her hand... and I find myself comforting them. My aunt, my mother's friend, my great aunt who sees two of her sisters in their dying moments when she looks upon her niece lying on that bed, weighing less than 50 pounds. It's my place in the world, it's who I am. They wonder what is holding her back. 'That's between her and God' I say. 'She'll tell him when it's time to go.' Mom worked for the Franciscan monks for thirty years, keeping their books ( I have NOT inherited her passion for book keeping, I mean, I can do it, but YUCK!), running one of the monasteries, managing the staff... my mother is and always has been a driver. And she won't change now. We're fortunate. My mother has been taken in by people who nurture and love her, and care for her as if she were their own mother. The Franciscans have an infirmary and she has been in their care for months since her chemotherapy. Secular people are never admitted there as patients, but she is one of them and receives the best there is. I see the sadness in their eyes as she slips away, and I hug them or pat them on the back, thanking them for their compassion, comforting them in their own grief. They love my mother, and I love them. The janitor comes in every once in a while and checks on her. He likes my mother; she always has a smile or a kind word for Robert. He has cognitive challenges, but is a good soul and works hard and my mother admires that... so do I. He's come in and checked on her twice this morning, so far... People here worry about me, but I feel my mother's strength as it leaves her and flows to me, slowly. Her heart is still strong. Like Robert said to me this morning: 'she has a good heart'. Yes she does, in more ways then one. She gave me life some 37 years ago, and continues to nourish me even though the umbilical chord has been cut for a long time, even though I married (ok, so that didn't work out so well), moved out and now support myself and my daughter. I've been stronger now than I ever have been. Don't get me wrong, I'm tired. I don't get much sleep. I'm not Superwoman. But my mother gives me strength. I catch people looking at me, the nurses's aids in particular... they really fret over me. And I appreciate their kindness and concern. Some of them have been through this with their own mothers, fathers, one has lost her husband to cancer. They have shared this with me and it is difficult for them... to relive it all. I've gotten to know the staff very well. I eat pretty much all my meals with them, I assist them in caring for my mother, and I touch or hug them a lot. One of them, Jackie (ironically my mother's name is Jacqueline) who also has just one child, a girl, walks by the room around meal times on her shift and 'reminds' me to go down and get someting to eat. She mothers me like I'm her own daughter and I've seen a tear or two in her eyes when she comes in and kisses mom softly. I hug and kiss her all the time. Robert sighting number 3.... And then there's Barbara, she has the sweetest smile. She loves it when Mom winks at her. When she moves Mom on the bed, Barbara snuggles up to Mom while holding her. She sat with Mom trying to get her to eat strawberry ice cream... every bite was a victory. She has the day off tomorrow and came in to kiss Mom and tell her she'd be back on Wednesday. I know she's afraid she won't get to see Mom open her eyes again. She left the room on the verge of tears, trying to hide it from me, but I watch closely. And I gave her the space she needed. Denise brought Mom her new faithful friend last week, Pepe the colourful stuffed parrot and he's always on Mom's bed. poor thing had the call button clipped to his wing. I've taken over call button duties, I felt sorry for Pepe. She has always let Mom move at her own pace (Denise has a strong self -preservation instinct), even when it would take Mom 45 minutes to decide to take her medication. and then another 15 minutes to actually take it. I sit in Mom's room, with my laptop on my lap (which can't find a wireless connection) on a big chair at the foot of her bed, writing this. This is where I've been sleeping the past few nights. In a room with white walls, a nice sized window, black and white checker floors ( I haven't counted the tiles.... yet...), knick knacks on the counter and pictures and cards on the dresser. I hear classical music in the hall in the morning and mid-afternoon, people walking by, the man in the room across the hall listening to the news (loudly), bits of conversations, life... Robert sighting number 4... Alain, one of the nurses here had a room made up for me so I could have a proper bed to sleep in... I never do sleep there, I just go into that room.. the special room... to call a family member or a friend to give them news so I won't disturb Mom. My mother really is sweet on him. She holds his hand tightly and winks at him when he comes to see her. He has come in from home in the middle of the night to give Mom her morphine injections because only a nurse is allowed to administer it in that form. I offered him the 'special room' he had readied for me, he smiled. It seems my mother has a few sweethearts here. She calls François, a nurses's aid who I've often caught staring at me with concern in his eyes, 'mon chéri'. I've watched the tenderness he shows my mother, the way he handles her like fine china and makes certain things are done right, leaving instructions for the night shift and checking with me to make sure everything is ok. I've watched him tuck her in and kiss her cheek. he has great respect for the dying, and remembers that they have the right to dignity no matter how frail they are. He's a good man. There's Nicholas, I think he's her favorite. He has kind eyes, is quite shy and felt awful when mom was in pain as he had to remove a bandage. It's sticky and removing it causes her pain. I actually offered to do it for him, but he said no. And did it with such gentleness, taking as much time as he needed even though he has so many other things to do and so many patients to care for. So many people here comment on how strong-willed my mother is. But those who have gotten to know her understand. They tell me 'm like her, which would have infuriated me to no end a short time ago, you can't put two women like us in a room and expect calm waters. But I now see the good about it. And Mom slowly lets me become her voice... very slowly. Mom's friend, father George Albert comes to see her every evening, like clockwork at 8:30. It's a ritual they started when she was first admitted here. Now, if she's sleeping, which she has been doing a lot of these days, he just says hello, blesses her and wishes me a good night. Father Ferdinand, my new main squeeze, had his 88th birthday the week before Christmas. He stops off to say hello every evening on his way to his bath. And at lunch time I go up to him in the main dining room and kiss his cheek. Yup, I'm sweet on him. I am fortunate to be surrounded by such wonderful people as the end of my mother's life draws near, people that have known my mother for years, decades even, and people that in a few short months have come to mean so much to her and to me. Have I mentionned I've been blessed more times in the past few weeks than in my whole lifetime? I miss my girl. I trust that someday she will understand why I have spent so much time far from her. She has my mother's spirit; I'm going to have my hands full. A dear friend told me: 'you don't have to write it or post it. If it makes things harder then don't. But sometimes it helps to just write it down.' (-not an exact quote but it stuck in my head). Thanks bro. Your words mean the world to me. You are family. To my dear friends who have been thinking of me these past few days... I love you. Thank you. The journey I've been on has been the most difficult I've ever faced, and it will only get harder. I draw my strength from mom, my girl, my family and my friends. I love you all more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!

Thursday Thirteen... crushes

As I was gOOGLING things for my Colin James post yesterday, I was reminded of something... There are and have been some hotties out there in the music business that I have had crushes on for quite some time… The list includes current as well as artists of days gone by… For me to have a crush on a musician, looks just aren’t enough… I have to respect the talent (guys don’t you roll your eyes at me) - THE PURE EYE CANDY LIST IS FOR ANOTHER DAY!! Lol! I included tunes so the guys might at least enjoy their stay a bit LOL In no particular order and is not a top anything.. they just popped in my head... 1. Taylor Hicks… (like you didn’t know) Love a man who growls….. yum! For Coco… 2. Colin James… he gets better with age he does! For tunage I direct you to yesterday’s WW… Ok.. so I had to include this one… Coco.. he’s not Number One but Dang! 3. Robert Plant – I’ve said this before.. I have a MAJOR thing for Robert Plant... I’m warning you… if you don’t have time.. you shouldn’t start watching! It’s over 8 minutes long… Led Zep - Since i've been loving you 4. Jonas…. I’ve talked about him before in a previous post… yummmmmmy! 5. Dave Matthews – there’s something about the boyish look... Dreamgirl By Dave Matthews Band BestAudioCodes.com 6. Rob Thomas… I love his voice, his collaboration with Carlos Santana was outstanding. Bent By Matchbox Twenty BestAudioCodes.com 7. Bruce Springsteen – there has been talk of Onions among the women of Soul Patrol… well… Dancing In The Dark By Bruce Springsteen BestAudioCodes.com 8. John Taylor… I’m a child of the 80’s and oh man did I have a thing for him! 9. ok.. Simon LeBon.. the lips… the eyes.. duran duran - save a prayer 10. Brian Ferry… eyes... voice... he always looked so good.. you just knew he smelled amazing! Avalon [Live] By Roxy Music BestAudioCodes.com 11. Sting Every Breath You Take By Sting BestAudioCodes.com 12. Bono U2 - With Or Without You 13. Jim Morrison… um.. the bottom lip... and um... Oh my! Doors - Roadhouse Blues Love you more than my luggage! Hugs, smooches and gropes!