"What Do You Really Want?"

I have always been of the philosophy that we have what we want.  If you want fame and fortune, you put yourself on the path towards that objective.  If you want a life of quiet solitude, you will choose a lifestyle that accommodates your desire for peace.  The opportunities that we select are based on what we want. A noisy baby will be quieted by being held, or food, or rocking, depending on what he wants. A young child will choose a red crayon to color a house because it best describes her vision of her world. The short 12 years old chooses soccer over football because he hasn’t got much of a chance in the NFL. The young woman chooses a college that offers an excellent program in Nursing because she sees the huge potential for career longevity with a decent salary.  We all have something in mind for what we truly want.  But we often sabotage our efforts along the way because we are afraid of success and the expectations that accompany it.  We take short cuts that take us around Robin Hoods Barn! We find that the path we chose is harder than we thought! And sometimes we find that what we thought we wanted… wasn’t that great.

That’s why we’re all figuring out how we’re going to spend $550 million dollars after we hit the mega million.  Because maybe it will BUY us what we really want.  Unfortunately,history does not indicate that it will go that way. If you’re not happy with your life now, you’re not likely to happy after you win (though you may have some fun before you declare bankruptcy when it’s all gone). But the bottom line is.. what do you really want?  I’ll be honest with you.  Shoes.  I want shoes. I do not know how anyone ever works in a shoes store because how can they possibly resists all the pretty shoes?????  I once walked into my house with what was obviously a shoe box.  My then teenage son looked at me and said “How in the world can you justify what is in that box????”  I said “I don’t have to.”  End of story!  But in my mind, I have justified it.  I have a disease.  It’s called “The Cinderella Complex” (ok, I made it up but it’s still real!) You see, no matter how you feel, ugly, old, fat, skinny, …you slip on a beautiful pair of shoes, look down and say “ Ooooh wee, I sure do look fine and these babies are coming home with me!” You know, glass slipper thing. My brother once asked me how many pairs of shoes I owned.  I asked him if flip flops counted.  He said “YEAH.” (like I was stupid or something). I said “I don’t know.” He said “how is that possible that you don’t know?”  I simply said that I don’t want to know. (because then I would have to acknowledge my “disease” and do something about it.)  

My life is good.  I have all I really need to survive. And if I hit the big jackpot, I’m giving most of it away because I don’t need it.  But we all know how this is going to play out though.  If I win, there is going to be one hell of shopping day and you are all invited to join me.  Please keep in mind, we are not looking at jewels, clothes, handbags, home furnishings, electronics, or cars.  We’re buying shoes. And we’re not going to the clearance rack or count how many shoes we bought. Then whatever’s left, I’ll give away and try to do some good in the world. Maybe I’ll make sure that every little girl that wants a pretty pair of shoes will have them.  Then set up a network of support groups for “The Cinderella Complex”.

"Whistlin Dixie"

“Can you believe it??? Some guy was whistling in the post office!!!!!”  “Really?”  I said very excitedly.  “That was definitely invading my space!’ he said. “It was like someone talking on their cell phone!”

I don’t know.  There are lots of sounds that annoy me like jazz and my bathroom exhaust fan. I’m not too crazy about a screaming kid but I’m pretty good at tuning that out since I know it’s not my kid these days!  Crows barking down at me when I’m on my walk irritate me. And someone talking on their cell phone when I am in a restaurant really bothers me.  But whistling? Nope, that doesn’t bother me ever.  I like whistling. I like it a lot!  I think it is amazing that people CAN whistle.  I can’t. I don’t know why.  I just can’t. I ask people how do you whistle and they say, as they purse their lips together,.. “you just do this”  and then they whistle. I purse my lips and try and push some air through but nothing, nada, no musical sounds.  So WHENEVER I hear whistling, I like it. Hell, you can whistle in the library for all I care.  I won’t be shushing you.  I just won’t be joining in. I might hum along with you if you don’t mind. I just can’t whistle.

But I can Hula Hoop.  I know what you’re thinking.  “What does Hula Hooping have to do with whistling?”  Well, not everyone can Hula Hoop and I don’t know why.   I was even a little Hula Hoop champion when I was 4 years old. I can still Hula Hoop for hours and often do it while I’m watching TV. Some people, though, can’t.  I don’t know how that is possible!  You just start swinging the thing around your waist and then move to keep it going!  How can you not be able to Hula Hoop?   Oh.. probably like me not being able to whistle.. huh?

There is great power in knowing our strengths and our weaknesses. We are all not blessed with the same abilities.  Can you imagine if all the Super Heros had the same super powers?  No one would be reading comic books because it wouldn’t be any fun!   But we’re all really good at something and there is always that something that we can’t do. (Superman can’t become invisible.)  Sometimes, it’s ok to admit defeat.  I stopped trying to whistle years ago.  That may be why it never ever bothers me to hear someone make beautiful music by just doing in this… (whatever it is that you whistlers do!)

Try to come up with 5 things you are really good at.  It’s not as easy as you might think.  Then come up with 5 things you’re not so good at.  Way easier. That being said, let’s all try and focus on our strengths. You can whistle while I Hula Hoop.

"The Jig is Up"

We were sitting in a  little bakery café in Chatham and I had really been wanting a great tasting baked treat, like a pie, or a scone, or a cookie.  I ordered an oatmeal raisin cookie with my coffee.  Joe wasn’t hungry, he just got coffee.   We sat outside on the patio. It was an absolutely glorious day. The temperature was in the high seventies, it was sunny and we were in Chatham (which will be our new home soon.)  I could not have been happier or so I thought.  I took one bite of my cookie and knew perfection.  It was amazing.  Really.  I had another bite as we chatted about the day.  I took another bite as I slowly maneuvered the cookie closer to me. I nonchalantly took  my napkin and hid most of the cookie that was left.  I wanted it to look like there was hardly any cookie worth sharing. He asked how my cookie was.   I nodded with a head shake as if to say.. “It’s ok.” But inside my head I was screaming “IT IS THE MOST DELICIOUS COOKIE I HAVE EVER EATEN AND I DON’T WANT YOU TO HAVE ANY OF IT!!!!!”   There I said it.  To you.   But not to him.  I knew that we could just go buy another cookie but I could see it going this way.  He gets a bite. He says “that’s a great cookie!”.  I say “want to get one for yourself?”  He says.  “No, I’m not really hungry; I’ll just take one more little piece of yours.”  And there you have it. I’m out 2 bites of the best cookie I’ve ever had.  So I just acted like it was “ok”.  And he didn’t ask for a bite. (and because I made it look like there was hardly any left!)  Whew! I had the whole cookie myself.  And I’m happy about that.  Not feeling the least bit guilty about it. Except tonight when we were talking about these crappy cookies that I bought at WalMart, well then I told him about my transgression. I came clean. I said sorry.  (I didn’t mean it, though) He was good about it.  He understood. (but he must now realize that I can be a bit selfish and wonder about some other things!)

It reminded me of my life years ago.  I had an allowance to work with for feeding my 3 growing boys and their clothes and household stuff.  It wasn’t much of an allowance but I did the best I could with it. I was very careful with extravagant food purchases and usually bought the least expensive, store brand treats. But sometimes, I was just dying for a GOOD cookie! (Like Pepperidge Farms Milanos.) And so sometimes, I would buy a pack for me.  Not for them.  Because they could never appreciate the good cookies the way I do.  My house was always filled with boys, not just mine.  And when I came home from the market, I would beep my horn in the driveway and boys would come down to unload the groceries. One day, a lot of boys came down to unload.  After they brought the bags inside, they began to put them away.  One kid looked up at me and said “Mrs. G?  Your cookies go up here behind the flour, right?”  The “jig was up.”  They all knew that I selfishly bought myself the GOOD cookies.

 I thought I was over that.  I thought I had done much better at sharing.  I thought I was a generous, giving, person now.   Apparently not. The “jig is up.”  I’m not.  Not when it comes to really good cookies.  I could say that the next time we’re in Chatham, I will offer him  a piece of my cookie, but probably not. Maybe someday…

"Entertain me, Damn it!"

We shout at the TV.  “Entertain me Damn it!”  Amuse my mind or divert me from my thoughts and worries as I sit in judgment of your performance. Hold my attention so that I do not become bored with my own ideas.  Make me laugh or cry or feel something other than what I’m already feeling. You, who have chosen to be entertainers, (and those who were forced into the profession), I will decide if you are good enough.  Hell, a long time ago, I would have been deciding whether or not you lived!!!

We have demanded to be entertained from the beginning.  Take me away from my drudgery. Sing for me, dance for me, fight for me so that I may be delighted in your efforts. But I will judge you.  If I do not like your performance, I will send you to the gallows or to the lions or to the unemployment line.  Oh, I know, you put your heart and soul into every act.  But still, you put it out there for me and I just might not like it or you. Ok, you LOVE to dance.  Great, but you had better be good if you’re doing it other than in your living room, otherwise.. well, I decide.  Of course, not me alone.  The King will have a say, the Emperor, the Sultan, the Council, the Masses, thumbs up or thumbs down, Baby. So you’d best entertain me, your life may depend on it.

That was pretty dramatic, I know, but it really did used to be like that.  Today, mostly, we just vote you off the show.  And you’re not really professional entertainers, you’re “real”.  We watch you sing on the Voice, American Idol, Americas’ got talent, (we had The Gong Show before the rest of this reality TV). We watch you dance, lose weight, hurl yourselves at giant rubber balls, and we make judgments on your performance.  Sometimes we think we could do waaaaaay better at whatever you’re doing but we’re saying that from our living couches as you “entertain” us.  Some of us actually seem to have some sort of degree in talent rating as though we have all produced so many entertainers.  “No”, we say, “you’re pitchy” (like I know what that means!) and “that outfit is horrible!” and “you’re too old to be dancing like that”.  We watch these shows because we are entertained and because we take part in the outcome. We sit in judgment of your performance just like if we were sitting in a theater, applauding with gusto or heckling to show our disappointment.  Now we sit in our little houses deciding your fate as you take the very brave step of entertaining us.

Our lives are filled with daily stresses.  No lion is chasing us but our way of living is hectic and exhausting.  We are not physically tired from plowing the fields but we need to “shut off” our thoughts to relax.  If you want to know just how busy our minds have become, try meditating.  Just try and quiet your thoughts and body.  You will see  how difficult it is to be still.  That is why we need to be entertained.  That is why we pay a lot of money to the cable company and why reality TV leads the market in viewers.  We have loved watching competitions on TV but we were watching the “professional” judges rate your “professional” performance.

Now anyone can put on their sequins and attempt to please me.  Thank you, but sorry, you’re timing was off a bit. You’re going back home to being a dishwasher.

"I Know the Difference between Men and Women"

 my six year old son said to his big brother.  Ben, ever so patient and kind, said to his little brother… “what is the difference, Joey?”  “Well, women wear earrings and men don’t” he proclaimed.  Ben told him that that was not the case in that men today often wear an earring and pirates wear them all the time.”  “Ok” Joey said, “Women have long hair and men have short hair.”  Ben explained to him that men can wear their hair very long, showing him examples of current rock stars, and that women sometimes wear their hair very short.  About to give up on the process, Joey shouts  “I know.. women don’t fart and men are proud of theirs’!!!!!”  Ben smiled at his little brother, shook his head and said “That’s right, Joey.  That is the difference between men and women.”

To all the women who have dated my sons over the years, I’m sorry.  I know, I should have told them that we fart too but I just couldn’t.  If you ever farted in front of them, I’m sure they looked at you like you were some alien goddess thing from some comic book planet. (Especially if you had really big  boobs) I didn’t let them know.  I even let them take the blame for one that might have slipped out silently. Women aren’t proud of our farts.  We do not call attention to them .  We do not even call them “farts”. We say “passing wind”  or “a little gas”.  When my Father had a little gas,  he would explain to anyone within earshot,  “I shot a bunny.”  He shot a lot of bunnies.  As a matter of fact, I not sure he ever missed an opportunity to “shoot a bunny”.  He seemed pretty proud of his marksmanship.  With the male species, there is always a “squeaky chair” a “duck call”  “cutting cheese”  “stepping on a toad” etc. But no matter what they call it, they like to bring attention to it with pride.  It might be that there is some sort of rating system for farts but if so, I’m a woman and I wouldn’t even begin to understand the criteria for judging.  You see, I’m embarrassed to “pass wind”,  “let out a little gas”.  Oh I know it’s just a body function and that we all do it.  But I just might be a lot more comfortable farting if you did not call attention to my farts as well as your own. Because we have tried hard to be more ladylike and not fart in front of you, when we do, you seem to think it is a call to celebrate.  I’m not giving you a high five for my fart, just not going to do that. I didn’t mean to fart.  I didn’t just “lift a cheek and let er’ rip.” It just somehow sneaked out. “Let er’ rip” is what the nurse told my boyfriend after he had his colonoscopy.  He said “that’s what I do any way!”.  He doesn’t.  He’s pretty considerate about farting.  He just wanted the nurse to know that he was “proud” of his farts.

To my grown sons, I’m sorry.  I should have told you.  I hope that this misunderstanding has not been a factor in your relationships and that this is not the reason why NONE of you are married yet.  So when you meet a woman and it all seems just right, and she lets out a little squeak, look at her tenderly, and say, “beans do that to me too”.  Instead of “Whoooooa.. Did you just lay down a big fat juicy one??????” I hope this instruction is not too late.

Dear Joey, there is a huge difference between men and women, a chasm so deep that I cannot even begin to tell you.  I’m sure you already know that.   Farting in one of the differences.  We all do it but women do not appreciate this bodily function with the same gusto as you.  Some day, when you are raising your little family,  tell the girls it’s ok to pass wind and let the boys know that we do but don’t want to talk about it.    Parenting advice from your Mom who occasionally farts.

"Infinite Possibilities"

I hold him in my arms today.  He’s just two days old! I look at his sweet, beautiful little face and feel a great peacefulness. In this minute.. this very second, there is nothing but the inexplicable joy of his being.  His opened yet unseeing eyes seemed to convey great wisdom as though in the very beginning, we hold the answers of the Universe. 

To hold little Zach, brings me back to the first days of my own children who are grown men now.  Those first, precious moments that have no expectations, only immeasurable wonder, are revisited as I kiss the top of his funny shaped little head.  I let memories float into my thoughts, singing songs, reading books, playing ball, hugging, laughing, and kissing.  And for a minute, I think only of the sweet glory of a new life coming into the world. I hand baby Zach off to the next loving arms, say my goodbyes and head home, lost in thoughts of days gone by and the reality of life today. I think of my sons then and now. I think of that little baby boy and wonder about the choices he will make in this big old world.

I often look at my life and wonder how did I get to this place, this situation?  Because it’s not where I was headed!  I have had an amazing journey filled with twists and turns, shortcuts and traffic jams, nailed it spot on and never quite got the hang of it. I’ve loved a ton, had my heart broken in two, married the right man 3 times and relished in my time solo.  I have reached for the stars and scrapped the bottom of the barrel. And the one thing that has always kept me going forward was the voice in my head that belonged to my Mom and my Dad, saying.. “You can do anything that you set your mind too”. I tried to set that voice inside the minds of my sons. Sometimes they hear it, sometimes their fears and insecurities drown out my words.  And sometimes, I am disappointed in the failure of my own belief in their choices.  Today, I held a new baby whose world is a blank slate, and today my grown son made a very bad choice that will make it very difficult for him to look to the future with promise.

  So Dear Baby Zach, what will you do with this opportunity before you? The possibilities are infinite.  You truly can be anything that you want for you are blessed with a loving family. But little Zach, they will not choose for you.  They will care for you and teach you and do their best to prepare you.  But you will follow your own path. Ahead of you lies great adventures but they are not without peril.  You looked at me with eyes that told me of the Universe.  You already know that love is what gets you what you need.  Enjoy the ride, watch out for the bumps in the road, think before you do anything, try to do the right thing, and listen for the voice that tells you that you are the best there ever was and that you can do anything you set your mind to.

Believe first in yourself, then convince the little ones.  Then keep trying to convince them when they forget.

"Hard Core Pornography"

Cathiesradiocafe has never been a political editorial.  I simply make observations about life and ask for your input.  Sometimes, though, something in the news just hits me and I know I have to write about it.  GOP candidate Rick Santorum says that if elected to the Presidency, he would hire an Attorney General to enforce obscenity laws and ban “hard core” pornography.  Wow! That is a very bold statement .   I’m not sure who he is trying to win over with that statement but he must truly believe in his call to govern our moral decisions. I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure I don’t want  this guy or really any person making my personal lifestyle decisions for me.

     The porn industry is HUGE.  In 2006, revenue for pornography, in this country alone, was over $13 billion. That was more that Microsoft, Apple, Yahoo, Amazon, Google, E-bay, and Netflix combined. That’s a lot of people choosing to look at dirty pictures!  Every second, 28258 people check in with their favorite lusty sites.  Who?  You ask?  Is watching all this porn?   We are. People everywhere, including our very own bible belt.  The number one city in the US for porn use in 2006 was not The Big Apple, or decadent Las Vegas, but Elmhurst, Illinois.  It would appear as though we have become obsessed with sex.  Have we always been this absorbed by our sexuality?  Is this a new phenomenon?  Or is it because it is now available to all of us via the internet?  

     The advertising industry has known for a long time, sex sell products.  We like sex. We respond to sexy images. “Sexy” is a very favorable adjective in our world and it is used to convey our idyllic man, woman, lipstick, shoes, scents.. everything that we deem worthy of spending our hard earned money on.  Does it surprise anyone that we also buy sex?  There is crazy money being spent on watching sex, in all its various ways.  If you can imagine it.. it’s out there. You can find it.  You can buy it.  This industry is making way too much money for it to ever go away.  The government cannot  undo what is already done. Someday, you may have to pay a ridiculous tax to be able to do so, but if you want it, you will have it. And the only way that an enforcement of prohibition of pornography can be applied is if the policing of your daily life becomes available to the government.   Perhaps it already is. 
It won’t work, though, Mr. Santorum.  Not you or anyone else will  be able to control our morality. We’re in charge of that.  And if we self- destruct because of our choices..that is our business, not yours.

"Angry Birds"

 “YES!!!”  I do a fist pump in the air to declare my awesomeness at Majong.  For those of you who don’t know what Majong is, it is a computer game for old people, like me.  It’s a speed tile matching game and I have been playing it since 2003.  I play twice in the morning, and usually a couple of times after dinner and, maybe again before bed.  I’m not addicted or anything like that, but I do have an app for it on my tablet. It’s just part of my routine.  And I ROCK at Majong!  First of all, I don’t actually know whether or not I’m any good at all because I have nothing to compare it to except my own scores.  Secondly, no matter how good I think I am, I don’t get anything for being good.  No pat on the back, no gold stars, no plaque on the wall,.. nothing.  No one ever says “How’d you do at Majong today?” Because no one cares.  It doesn’t mean anything.  It’s just a game that I play all by myself. I pretend that it keeps my brain sharp and test my eye hand coordination but really.. it’s a time waster.  I’m not sure it’s fun.  I just do it.  If someone ask “did you have fun today?”  Playing Majong doesn’t come to mind as an answer to that question.   I know you know what I mean because you play Angry Birds.  So do I.  But I suck at Angry Birds. How do I know?  Because sometimes I hear people talk about getting 3 stars and clearing the whole board.  I almost never get 3 stars and when I get 2.. it’s because of playing the game about 8,000 times.  Eventually, all the pigs die.  I don’t know how.  But being good at Angry Birds doesn’t get you anything either.  And no one cares.  Angry Birds is also a time waster.  A new study indicates that 64% of all online apps are games.  We seem to enjoy wasting time.  Oh we could sit on the couch and watch TV but no one likes a couch potato.  So we play mobile games and it feels like we’re doing something, kind of like fishing.  Fishing is where you sit on the bank of a body of water and put a worm on a hook and drop it in the water.  Then you just sit.  Maybe drink a beer, have a smoke  but really just sit.

We play games as a distraction from our everyday thoughts. We find ways to relieve stress by disengaging.  And that’s ok.  But let us not kid ourselves.  There is no merit in video/on-line games. Although you may feel that you are putting your strategic mind to use… there are probably more productive ways to do so.  Now maybe you engage in on-line games with other people thereby adding a social element to whole thing.    Well, they would know if you were any good compared to the other people who are playing.  I don’t subject myself in that kind of pressure.  I like thinking I’m really good at something without being tested.  Still, even if you are playing with other people, you’re not really doing anything but killing time.  And that’s ok too, as long as we don’t try to defend our absorption in a make believe world.

We have always played games.  We have always found ways to entertain ourselves. And we have always played to win, even if it’s only beating ourselves. We can congratulate ourselves for a job well done. But our games have taken on a new world of instant video streaming, anywhere, any time. Maybe we have succumbed to the void of constant mindless gaming only to look for that gold star that doesn’t seem to come from anywhere else in our lives. 

 So anyone ever beat 2min 28secs at Majong?  I think not!

Box Wine

I was out driving around on this incredibly warm March day.  I headed down Central Ave, just enjoying the buzz of people getting outside to do something, anything.  I saw in the distance Krauss’s chocolates and put my blinker on. It was high time for some good chocolate.  After every holiday, I go to the market and pick up the left over candy at half price, Reeses peanut butter cups,  Nestles’ Crunch, Peanut M&M’s, whatever is left. And that’s what I eat for dessert every night, two pieces of whatever chocolate.    I’ll admit it, I’m cheap.  But I’m not stupid.  I know that good chocolate taste waaaaaay better than cheap chocolate. It’s just that it’s pretty tough to rationalize expensive treats. But I did today.  Maybe because the sun was shining, maybe because it was almost 70 degrees, maybe because it was there.. but I walked into the good candy store.  I took my time, selecting each little delectable piece of sweet heaven to fill a one pound box.  $13 pretty much pays for my 2 month supply of after holiday candy but that is what I spent at the candy store today.  Well, actually I spent more than that because I bought Max a chocolate bunny lollipop.  He’s 4 and he has no idea how much better good chocolate is!  ANY candy taste great to Max, he’s 4. None the less..he will get a really good chocolate bunny pop.

So I had my two pieces of really good chocolate tonight after dinner and thought the only thing that would make this better would be really good red wine. (A perfect combo, red wine and chocolate!)  But I drink box red wine.  Because.. well, remember, I’m cheap.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate a very nice $16 bottle of cabernet.  I do.  Hell, I even appreciate an $8 dollar bottle. (I never had a $50 bottle of wine but I’m sure I would like it!) But I drink box wine.  I have a glass of wine every night with dinner.  Just one (ok, with a splash more) but that’s it.  If I open a good bottle, by the 4^th days, it’s not as good. Box wine is fine for the month.  It’s not great but it’s ok. Just saying, I know the difference.

I love my bed (as some of you may have already been made aware).  I don’t have 400 thread count bed sheets but I’ve slept on them. They are pretty great.. ok, more than pretty great. Would I love my bed even more with expensive sheets???  The answer is yes.  But I’m cheap. Sheets from Target will do just fine.

My addiction to shoes would be severely curtailed if quality was the pre-requisite to shopping ( I head right for the clearance rack) and my other addiction, soap?  I have actually spent $7 on a bar of soap!  It was worth it. But really, does that make any sense at all for my daily bathing needs??

I have not experienced all the better things in life but what I have, I can truly appreciate the difference. I don’t need to have them be a part of my everyday world but once in a while; I may indulge myself with an affordable luxury. I’m not sure how the other half lives but I bet they don’t enjoy that sweet little bite of decadence or that glass of wine from that $16 bottle nearly as much as I do.

How do you treat yourself every now and then?

"Cacophony"

There is something about these early Spring like days in March that make us feel as though we have been given a very special gift and must not waste it.  I had been tied up running errands and found the day had slipped away from me.  Determined to pay homage to the sunshine and warm temperature, I headed down to the river to soak in the last remaining hour of fading sunlight.   I stepped closer to the water and stopped.  I was bombarded by a cacophony in every direction.  I turned my head to the right to see if I could determine the “hooty hoot” of the doves, then looked overhead to identify the “honking” sounds of the Canada goose.  Every which way I turned was a different discordant noise,  trill sounds of red wing black birds, raucous cawing of crows , high pitch twittering of some bird which I could not see..  Then I heard a train whistle in the distance and a single engine plane overhead.  I heard the ducks flapping in the water. I stopped turning my head and listened to the cacophony become an ode to Spring.  It was amazing how all the sounds came together like a symphony of my world!  I smiled to myself and thought… “I just used the word cacophony!”  I was impressed with myself.  Cacophony… Wow, I’m not sure I have ever actually used that word in a sentence even in my head!

So I decided to write about that in my blog tonight.  Not the sounds of Spring, but words we hardly ever use and mostly how grateful  I am for spell check.   I read a lot and, in context, I know what most of the words I read mean.  I almost never look up a word.  I’m pretty confident in sorta knowing.  (I’m not very confident in my punctuation so I use a lot of commas just in case.) But spelling?  That’s a whole other ballgame!  Do you know how many different ways I have attempted to spell “cacophony”?  And even though spell check has corrected me each time, I’m still relying on it to fix things.  Do you know how many of the words in this blog have been corrected (not counting cacophony)? Discordant,grateful, determined…. And those are just regular words!   Oh I have words that I spell wrong regularly, like “develop” which does not have a e at the end but I seem to like it there.  I sometimes put an e at the end of wronge too but I know that doesn’t look right!  “Tongue”  well thankfully I don’t have to write that word very much because it always throws me!  But because I spell check, I can write with confidence that you will get my drift. And I can impress you with words like “cacophony” (if you’re not sure what it means… you can google it. I did just to be sure.)  It would be really nice if spell check could actually fix everything that I do!  Could someone get to work on that “life check” thing?

Ok, your turn.  Hit me with some uncommon words to describe your day today. (and in doing so, you’ll be helping me spice up my blog writing)  thanks..

"Which is better? 3 or 4?

3… um, I mean 4.. wait.. can I see 3 again?  “Which line is blacker?”  ok, this is a tough one because they look exactly the same.  That can’t be the right answer though because he wouldn’t have asked me if they were the same!  But if I say “vertical” and it’s supposed to be horizontal.. well then I have screwed up my glasses (and I really need those to see anything!)  Such pressure!  I say they look the same.  Whew! Being honest is the only way to go.  “How about these lines?  Which is blacker now?”  Damn!!!  I’m going to have to go through a lot more of these questions

The doctor at the hospital says “Could you rate your pain for me on a scale of 1-10?”    um… could you describe a 10?  “A  10 is like a knife in your belly”.  I don’t know about you but I’ve never had a knife in my belly.  I’m thankful for the reference point but I’m not going to be able to use that. (and I’m hoping she doesn’t really know that one either!)  So, I’m going to try and remember the worst pain I ever had and use that as my 10.  I stubbed my toe real bad one time.  That really hurt but still probably nothing like a knife wound. I had 3 babies but they gave me some stuff for the pain so it wasn’t that bad.  She saw that I was having some difficulty answering the question show she showed me a chart of smiley faces, some not smiling at all and she said to point to the one that best indicated my pain.  I really don’t want to get this wrong because too happy a face, I’m not getting any attention and too fierce a face, I locked up on machines.  (There doesn’t seem to be a confused looking smiley face). I go somewhere in the low middle.  (I don’t want to seem like a baby).  She looks at me and marks the chart.  I must have answered that one right. Whew!

I went to the chiropractor today because I’m feeling not quite right. That really threw him!  “What do you mean exactly?” he says.  Un oh,  I thought he might just know what I meant but no, he needs clarification. “Here’s a little picture of a person. Circle the part that hurts and then circle the description that most applies.”  Pain? Pressure? Sensitivity? Ache?   FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!  I don’t know!  What is the difference between ache and pain? Doesn’t pressure hurt? If you touch me there I’m going to laugh because it tickles.  Yes, it’s sensitive.  He tells me to take a deep breath and when I exhaled he snaps my neck.  “OUCH!”   “Did that hurt?” he asked.    Pause….. I say “yes.. well, not really,  .. well maybe a little”.   “Does it hurt now?”        I give up! !

 I’m not indecisive.  I know how to answer a question.  For example if you said dark or milk chocolate?  I know, dark.   If you ask me my age, well, I’m going to tell you whatever I want and that will be correct . If you ask me my name, it’s either Catherine Russell or Russell, Catherine but invariably, I will get that wrong on a form. And there lies the problem.  Sometimes you just have to answer the question right.  And that can be a lot of pressure! (but not the kind that hurts)

"Why are you getting up at 5am?"

Seriously?  Why ARE you getting up at 5am????  Santa didn’t come, you don’t have cows,(unless you do), you don’t have a crying baby, there’s nothing on TV but infomercials and the NASA channel!   (and seriously, watching the NASA channel ANY time of the day is pretty weird) You don’t have to go to work, it’s DARK outside, hell, there are still STARS in the sky! Why do you get up at 5am?.  You’re not alone.  There are people all over the world who wake up at 5am and like you, lots of them don’t have to.  I think there is something wrong with you.  I LOVE my bed. I am always sad to get out from under my nice soft squishy down blanket. Even if I’m wide awake, I’d just as soon stay just a little bit longer. My bed loves me too.  I make promises to my bed that I’ll be back soon! (That seems to calm my bed down.. just knowing I’ll be back.) But you bounce out of your bed at 5am. And talk to me.. who is not planning to get up for a while.  Oh and for the record, 7:30am is not the afternoon.(neither is 8am.)  You are not the first person in my life that has said “good morning sleepyhead” to me as I tear myself away from my beloved pillow to enter the world at 7:30! Apparently I have slept the day away already.  What the hell… I might as well go back to bed then.  And just exactly what do you do in the “shank” of the day?  Unless you’re, like, solving world peace or something.. I think it could wait an hour or two. Oh and that coffee you made at 5am doesn’t taste good at all at 7:30. (just saying).

So what’s up with that, all of you early risers?  Do you have some sort of Farmer DNA? To me, the day starts when something is going on   like the sun is up or the newspaper is here. By the way, this whole thing does not apply to you if you deliver my newspaper.  Thank you for getting up so early but I really don’t need mine till 7ish.    Ok, so maybe your job starts at 6am.  That does not explain to me why you wake up so early on the weekends. I’d think about looking for a new job if I was you, because really, it’s a lot nicer to wake with the sun.  I can feel the sunlight on my closed eyes and I know the world is waiting for me.  Of course on a rainy day.. the world can wait a little longer.  Not only do you wake up at 5am but you fall asleep around 8pm.  If I did that, I’d miss American Idol (Jessica Sanchez knocked it out of the park tonight!) and then how could I join in the conversations with everyone on Facebook?

  Ok, it’s 11:00pm now. I think this day is done.  It was a good day, a very good day.  It started at 7:30am.

Sweet dreams, Night owls, Good morning, Early Birds

"You are arrogant"

Well, not you.. me.  After six years of wedded bliss, my second husband had a life altering revelation about his sexual orientation.  He thought we might need some counseling to get through the emotional turmoil sure to follow.  So I said ok.  The therapist immediately said that she wanted to work with me alone. She kept saying “I know how angry you must be” in spite of the fact that I wasn’t angry.. I was sad. She told me I was strong.  I told her that I believed in choice of actions and I choose to move through this.  I then said  “if you believe in choice.. why would anyone choose to stay in a place of pain?”  That’s when she called me arrogant.  I didn’t think I was getting any help here so I stopped going.  She called me arrogant.  Now I’m a lot of things, stubborn, self-righteous, feisty, but I never considered myself “arrogant” until last night.

Getting through this thing called life can be tough.  We’ve all been through some hard times. And we mostly find ways to survive. I have sought out the “survivor” in the people that I meet because it is a characteristic I value greatly. “How did you make it through?” has always been a fascinating conversation to me.  I have had little patience or compassion for those that remain a “victim” of life. I have said “yeah, I know, life’s a bitch now what are you going to do about it?” I have worked with children with disabilities and pushed them through their fears to achieve new levels of success. But last night, I realized that I am arrogant.  I watched the evening news and the leading story was a crime so incomprehensible that it will haunt me forever.  Sometimes, things of such unspeakable violence happens to innocent people. Sometimes such unfathomable sorrow befalls a person that life becomes an unwanted burden.  Sometimes the tools necessary to overcome the injustice have been so completely stripped away that climbing out of hell is simply not an option.

So today, I give my utmost thanks to God for this life that live, I ask the Universe to forgive my arrogance, and I promise to be more understanding and compassionate. (but I’m still probably going to be feisty)

Sometimes I write for fun, sometimes for a response, and sometimes just to put my thoughts to pen, but always… always I write from my heart.  Thank you for reading and becoming a part of my world.

"slut"

Got your attention?  That was the purpose of the title, to get your attention. That was the intention of Rush Limbaugh calling Sandra Fluke a “slut”.  She is a young law student who testified to lawmakers about wanting the school to amend its’ health insurance policy to cover birth control. Limbaugh went on a rant about paying for birth control was paying for sex and that made her a “slut”… a “prostitute” .  But Rush has apologized so everything is ok now.  Well, he didn’t actually apologize though he used the word “apologize”.  He said that his choice of words may not have been the best in his efforts to be humorous.  He apologized to Ms. Fluke for his choice of words.  I guess he thinks another word for “slut” like “whore” or “hooker” might have been more appropriate and less offensive.  But that is not why I’m writing this.  I’m not here to discuss whether or not he was right or wrong.  Rush Limbaugh incited a nation to think about something and invoke a passionate response.  Every adult in this country and probably all over the world is talking about what he said. Never underestimate the power of words.

Now, I’m here at this computer hoping that you too will have a response to the words that I am writing. Difference is, no one is paying me big bucks to get you all riled up.  I’m just really writing what I think and hope that you will offer me a different perspective.  But when I did my radio show live, I was told that people LIKE to argue their opinions and that a nonjudgmental approach would not work. I think that is probably true but it’s not ever what I wanted to do… start arguments. (I do that enough in my own personal world!)  Rush Limbaugh gets paid A LOT of money to start arguments.  And he does that by choosing his words very carefully.  So he apologized for his choice of words that performed exactly as he wanted.  I have always tried very hard to say what I mean to say.  I found out a long time ago that insinuating, implying intent, assuming perception, hinting, beating around the bush, half-truths…. Do not work out so well.  So I say what I mean.  Problem with that method is that I cannot prevent others from thinking I mean something else in spite of my literal utterances.  I also assume that you mean exactly what you say and this has put me in some difficult situations as well.  I don’t think I have ever called anyone a “slut” because the term means sexually promiscuous and I’m not sure what constitutes promiscuous these days.  I have, on occasion, called someone an unkind word (like “peccar head” or “jerk”)  but I meant that.

The power of words. They can tell a story, soothe a broken heart, empower a conversation, greet a stranger, proclaim to the world, make us laugh, comfort a loved one but once spoken or written, they can never be taken back. Apology not accepted, Rush, but great job on making us react! And I'm guessing that this post will get more hits than any of the others because of the title.

"I googled it"

Ok, I’m a little behind the times but not by all that much.  I look up something by using google and have for years but it is not until recently that I have come to truly appreciate the virtues of googling. (by the way, every time I try and type “google”,  microscoft wants to change it to “goggle” which does not even come into my thoughts… ever!  Back to google.  In the old days, like 10 years ago, you had to be very specific about what you might want to research on google.  And then you were hit with about a thousand different websites  to check out and see if they answered your questions. Not anymore!  All you really have to do is type your question into the google bar.  Voila! Your answer is up in about .o23974257886 seconds.  Whenever you are having a conversation with anyone, (even yourself) and you wonder about something… just “google” it. 

Did you know that currants are a type of grape and extraordinarily high in vitamin C?  Did you know that the pink ginger that come with your sushi is dyed pink with food coloring? Do you know what “spalted wood” is? That you can cook with slimy mushrooms? That Joe Palermo was the Orchid Man?  (ok, I did that google search after we started dating).  Do you know where the closest farmers market is?  What is in “jerk” seasoning? That Trader Joes really is coming to Albany!  The weather in Pagosa Springs , Colorado? Where to buy bulk dried fruits for the best price?  How to freeze fresh tomatoes?  The words to the poem  “The Owl and the Pussycat”?   Do you know the definition of serendipity? It’s amazing how you really can find all of the answers to your questions!!!   Now I know they have “aps” for the stuff you need answer for most often.. but really, my questions are all over the place!   Without google,  I would never get out some research kind of book and look up the answers to my questions.  I’d just keep on wondering.. FOREVER!  (or really, it would just pass on through my mind like the wind).  I’d forget the question!

Now I know some stuff.  It might not be stuff you want to know but I do.  You probably know a bunch of stuff that I don’t because I haven’t looked it up yet (or I haven’t wondered about it).  I looked up some scientific sort of answers like how do you make a Kaleidoscope but I didn’t really learn anything from that.  I guess I didn’t really care how.. but it’s out there if you do.  Hell, you can learn how to do anything just by googling it!  If you want to make a braided rag rug or perform a sexy striptease  (not saying I googled that one)  you can find out how.  I am a wealth of information of stuff I want to know about!!!  I’m way smarter than I used to be.  Just ask me anything.  I’ll get right back to you with that answer.  I might even retain the info if it relates to something in my life.

 What is the last thing you “googled”?

magic

I went to a restaurant over the weekend that had a magician go around from table to table and do tricks.  I wanted to go to that restaurant because of the magic. It was awesome!  I didn’t used to think that way about magic tricks.  I thought they were stupid.  Big deal.. so you know a trick I don’t know!!  So you can deceive me by diversion!   There is always someone in the group who thinks they know how the “magic” happened but when questioned about it.. well, they don’t get it exactly.  They say a magician never reveals his methods but clearly  they all have, otherwise we would never get to see the person cut in half or the rabbit coming out of a hat.  I don’t think magic tricks are stupid anymore.  I enjoy the whole thing.  I don’t need to know how the trick was done.  As a matter of fact, I don’t even want to know.  Just make me believe, because maybe, just maybe, magic happens.

It did this morning.  I looked out into the most beautiful frosty white wonderland, the branches of the trees heavy with glittering snow.  Ok.. I know  how snow happens.  Well, I couldn’t really explain it to you but they taught me back in 4^th grade and I just kind of said “oh, I get it” (which is what you say when you are supposed to be understanding some scientific explanation). But that wasn’t where the magic part came in today. The magic part came from Max.  He’s 4years old.  He spent the night. And the first thing he said to me this morning was “Can we go outside and play in the snow”?  Now it has been a loooooong time since playing in the snow sounded like a good idea to me.  I told him after breakfast I would go outside with him.  As each bite of my raisin toast passed through my lips, the countdown to “after” breakfast began.  I told him I was old and old people like to drink their coffee and read the paper. He waited patiently (as patiently as 4 year olds wait). So I put on my long johns, 2 pairs of socks, my heavy duty boots and mittens and went into the snow with Max.  We started building a snowman,   ok, I started building a snowman while Max just did stuff in the snow.  I asked him to help but he was busy. I kept at it.  Max asked me if he could eat snow. I said yes and remembered my Mom making snow ice cream with vanilla and egg and maple syrup.  Max asked me if he could just “jump into the snow with his face”.  I said yes, and remembered when I thought it might be fun too. I was transported back to a time of simple pleasures, not acknowledging the cold, not questioning how or why there was this beautiful awesome cold white stuff on the ground,  just knowing that it magically appeared and being really happy about it. 

 Magic happened today… nothing up my sleeve..