Sing Along Time

Just for you.

You know who you are & you know why.

My New Motto

Drama for Life

I ask myself "how can one person have so much drama at this late stage in life?" Will it ever, by it I mean me, be normal?

Help me Jesus. Help me Tom Cruise. Help me Oprah Winfrey.

Apples & Rocking Chairs

I came home from work Thursday and found in my mailbox an invitation to a wedding reception from a friend. My friend is getting married in Oahu, Hawaii and is having an informal reception back "home". Instead of feeling happy, I felt sad for myself. Sad because my name wasn't on the invitation announcing my soon to be joyous union with another. Sad because it is not I who will be sending out thank you notes for all the gifts received in honor of the delightful occasion. Sad because it will not be myself and another figuring out what to do with hundreds of leftover white napkins with foil letters on them. Sad because it will not be me returning a Noritake Chandon Platinum soup tourine because we were accidentally given two of them. Because it is not ME.

Some of you know that I have already walked down the blissful aisle covered in rose petals only to find myself dredging through a swamp of tears and hurt three years later. Five years later than that I find myself drowning in the same swamp wondering what happened and where it all went wrong. No answers and no closure.

I sold my wedding band last year to a stranger for $45.00. As I examined the gold, platinum and diamond circle of eternal love before placing it in the stranger's hand, I thought the exchange of memory for cash would signify something and that something that never came. My wedding dress hangs in my closet, in a home I share with another man. I can't let it go. Not yet. Not today.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever dig out of the hole my ex-husband buried me in. A hole that stings, pinches and suffocates me from time to time.

*Note* The title of this post has nothing to do with the contents.

**Waiting**

For the love of Pete, would you please hurry your hot dirty rocker ass up? I can't hold this position forever, dinner is ready and I ran out of black eyeliner.

¡Apure por favor!

No Title 2

Sometime a song can say what you're feeling & sometime's a song is all you need....

Wasted Time
~~ The Eagles

Well baby, there you stand
With your little head, down in your hand
Oh, my god, you can't believe it's happening
Again
Your baby's gone, and you're all alone
And it looks like the end.

And you're back out on the street.
And you're tryin' to remember.
How will you start it over?
You don't know what became.
You don't care much for a stranger's touch,
But you can't hold your man.

You never thought you'd be alone this far
Down the line
And I know what's been on your mind
You're afraid it's all been wasted time

The autumn leaves have got you thinking
About the first time that you fell
You didn't love the boy too much, no, no
You just loved the boy to well, farewell
So you live from day to day, and you dream
About tomorrow, oh.
And the hours go by like minutes
And the shadows come to stay
So you take a little something to
Make them go away
And I could have done so many things, baby
If I could only stop my mind from wondrin' what
I left behind and from worrying 'bout this wasted time

Ooh, another love has come and gone
Ooh, and the years keep rushing on
I remember what you told me before you went out on your own:
'sometimes to keep it together, we got to leave it alone.
So you can get on with your search, baby, and I can
Get on with mine
And maybe someday we will find , that it wasn't really
Wasted time

Self-Economics

Ec⋅o⋅nom⋅ics [ek-uh-nom-iks, ee-kuh-]
–noun 1. (used with a singular verb) the science that deals with the production, distribution, and consumption of goods and services, or the material welfare of humankind.

Self-worth [self-wurth]
–noun the sense of one's own value or worth as a person; self-esteem; self-respect.

We are all worth something whether we want to believe it or not. Some of us might be worth more on paper, some by what we have hidden under a matress and some by our inner workings. In today's poor economy, what is your self-worth?

Tears in My Beer

Today I had lunch with my family at my grandparent's home. After lunch, the men hang out in front of the TV and take naps and the ladies take to the front porch to rock and swing. In the middle of our rocking and swinging my grandmother looks at me and says "I just realized who you remind me of, Aunt Jessie". "She had black hair and was short, squatty and fat". I have not much of an idea who Aunt Jessie was, all I could say was "I hope she was pretty". Her response, "she wasn't a bad looking woman". Uh, ok. Then sometime later she says "you have an Italian nose". Uhhh, ok. I am an overly sensitive person. Have been all my life. It was all I could do not to roll away crying. No my grandmother wasn't over or under medicated and she is not going senile. I can only surmise that when you reach a certain age you can say whatever to whoever you want. Also in my summation, I realize when my feelings get hurt it doesn't make me want to rise above the comment and find the better me. Instead I want to retreat into a place that is dark and alone. I've always said I like my own company better than anyone else's and this might be the reason why. I don't need constant reminders of my shortcomings ie. too fat, too selfish, take too many naps, have too many freckles, my non-Italian heritage, liking of expensive things and that I will eat ketchup on the finest steak in town. I'm a realist, none of us are perfect but isn't that for our own judging if we should be judged at all?

I think I'll I go sit in my closet and have a cocktail now.

The Eye of the Beholder

When you see this image what emotion does it trigger? Pride? Ignorance? Heritage? Hate? Misunderstanding? Dueling banjos? Or something all together different?

Random Thoughts 6

If I have no children but everything else I desire will I be happy, satisfied or just content? I am pretty sure I don't feel incomplete due to not having any but does society really dictate for women that children & marriage are a way of saying "I have arrived"?

Are having children really a way of staying young forever?

What will I die from? Will I die alone?

Why?

Who Is That?

I am a HUGE fan of Post Secret. I literally salivate every Sunday morning when I'm getting my full dose of Sunday Secrets. I bought one of the Post Secret books today. As I was flipping through, I came across a secret on page 265. The secret reads "I still wonder what life would be like if I'd just had the courage to tell her...we haven't spoken in 5 years and I'm happily married". The secret features a picture of a girl. Without a doubt - without a single doubt - the girl is me. I've asked several people if they think the picture is me and the answer is "yes". I did not submit the secret but I can't help think about who might have. I have tried to remember what, when or how this picture was taken. I have no idea whom I haven't spoken to in 5 years. I am not flattered, upset or bewildered. Okay, maybe a bit bewildered. I've had the book in possession for 8 hours and I am fully consumed with the secret.

What would you think or do?

The Blogger's Couch

Blogging is a way to express ourselves. We can say what we want to say. Vent, scream or even show vast amounts of love for the most mundane things. Post whatever pictures we like. Conduct polls of useless criteria. We find new friends, form bonds as we blog about elbow macaroni, BBQ grills, bacon, cheap dirty sex, dog poo and all sorts of emotional needs. We all have an open door policy & will see you at any given time, no appointment needed. We create our own safe little corner in the big old bad intraworldwideweburnet. So we all agree blogging is cheaper than therapy but does it really work? Do you feel better after you read something someone has shared with the world? Do you feel relieved when you share something someone else reads from the world? Does your heart race when you see your comment number rising? Does it make you smile, smirk or reach for that bottle of vodka?

*note* reaching for vodka does not mean you are in a depressed state of mind so reach farther

Singing & holding a candle - "I'd like to write the world a blog and keep it company...that's the word I write".

Random Thoughts 5

Feeling lonely(no surprise) on a Tuesday evening and as a million things ran through my mind I thought:

Why do people cheat? Is it the thrill of the hunt? The excitement of the find? Why not free our self of one thing before we try on another thing? Do we cheat to fill a void, searching for the famous greener grass? No one ever thinks "that grass still has to be cared for" before they cross to the other side. Guess what? That greener grass is just as needy as the grass you just stepped away from.

What inspires one doesn't always inspire another. I think money moves us all but what about the ones who are moved by mere words, songs or simple acts of kindness? Or even those crazy weight loss infomercials? I want to be moved. I want to be inspired. I hope for a little of both.

The older I get, I wish I had a sibling. Being an only child is tough sometimes but the cool thing, you can never be out done because you have zero competition. (sometimes I wish had a competitor)

No one in death since Princess Diana has created so much buzz and media coverage as Michael Jackson.

Happy 4th of July!