Wanting More

Today it dawned on me that when we get what we sought the tables turn and its no longer what we want. Is that because the rules of the game change? Because we change? Or because when we got what we wanted, the "got" changed? I've always said everything worth having is worth the fight regardless of how hard or how lengthy. Isn't that how races are won and championships are gained by fighting and some strategy? Do we become discontented because of temptation? Because we have so many choices? Just when we are on the brink of happiness we fall off and the fall sometimes good, sometimes bad, puts us right back at the beginning of a long road. All I can say is thank goodness for memories good or bad because they can truly drive us right to where we need to be.

You Push, I'll Pull, No Wait...

A friend and I were discussing relationship highs, lows, fits of craziness and the throes of passion. As our talk continued we began to make light of the craziness. We then discovered how interesting it would be for two bi polar people to be involved in an intimate relationship. The scenario was something like this...

"Get off of me, get under me. Leave, no, stay. *Slap, you deserved that, no you didn't. You're stupid, no your wonderful. I hate you, I love you. Let me drown, save me. You're insane, no, you're level headed. I like black, you are black. *Kick, I didn't mean that, come here. Call me, don't call me. I hope you leave and never come back, please don't leave me. I want to wear your skin like a birthday suit, I hate suits. I want you, who are you? I hate sushi, I love fish. You don't need to drink, who drank all my vodka? Kiss me, keep your tongue out of my mouth. Lets take a vacation, I'm not going anwhere with you."

Without some mania in the world, it would be flat and boring. Crazy people need love too.

Happy Birthday!

On this day 50 years ago your sweet little cries entered the world. Now, 50 years later, we are still listening to your cries. May today bring you all the peace you have sought and may the next 50 years be even better.

Happy Birthday Nikki Sixx!

This Post Will Self Destruct....

How much faith do we put in the finding of our inner peace? Or do we find inner peace putting all our cards on the table for faith?

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if we could just put on a little lipstick on the inside just as we do outside to show the world we are completely pulled together? The thing about our inner conflicts is that it is only our self that can see and feel them. No one will ever know of the struggle until we confess it. I guess the journey of finding inner peace would begin with learning how to forgive. The process of forgiving to me hinders on one thing: how do you forgive when you can’t forget? Call me an elephant, a grudge holder or any other label that has to do with not forgetting. When someone has wronged me I will remember and relive the situation in question over and over. Aren’t we supposed to harness the good and let go of the bad? Don’t get me wrong, not all of my innards are a ticker tape of the bad stuff. Every now and then a reflection of good and right will show up.

The self help section of any book store will offer one thousand titles per one conflict to gain your inner peace. One book suggested writing a letter telling of the hurt and hate you might have and sending it to a random address. Um, that little exercise had no positive response for any closure I was seeking. Purging (out with the old, in with the new) hasn’t necessarily worked for me either. So what will it take? Sitting in the foothills of the Himalayans, praying to a little fat man? Watching Benny Hinn heal everyone in the audience with far greater physical afflictions but me who chose to stay seated for fear of being embarrassed?

Whatever it may take, I will gladly accept the mission.

Misery Loves Company

I've noticed I only blog when something isn't right. Only a few posts have positive content. To few in too many if you ask me. Even posts involving the secret love of my life -- Nikki Sixx -- offers negative tokens. I understand the need to celebrate and share milestone events such as job retirement, decade passing or arriving of birthdays, marital anniversaries but what about the small things? A small thing might be sucessfully making it one full week with no alcohol use, not checking your email in-box 52 times a day or breaking the nasty habit of biting your nails. Those little happenings are rarely celebrated. I am not saying that we celebrate the negative either. What I'm saying is we tend to open the flood gates when something isn't going our way and we like for the world to know it. Irritating co-workers, dogs who chew everything in their path, gas prices, heartache or a bad haircut. We'll talk about it and talk about it to any one who will turn an open ear. There is just something about beating a dead horse.

So, does it go without saying that we only shout from the roof tops when our lives are on the verge of something awful?

Depressing, yes? Reality, absolutely.

Easy Schmeasy

I’ve touched briefly in recent words how the easy things in life don’t come easy. Whether it is leaving a toxic relationship, beginning a new one or trying to find the PSI for your tires. Just when you think you couldn't ever want more you do. You get a little bit more and the need for something bigger and better is almost insatiable. The more we have the more we feel like we lack. Why is this? Why does contentment have to feel like a four letter word? And better yet, does satisfaction exist at all?

This isn’t necessarily regarding the luck of having Target or Wal-Mart within a 2 mile radius of your home. It is more about not wanting what we have emotionally, spiritually, mentally and vice versa. Everything, relationship oriented, tends to be a struggle in its entirety. We have disappointed parents because their expectations, ever how small or large, were not met, disgruntled employees because promotions or bonuses were not given and lovelorn couples expecting the unobtainable from their mate. It is no secret we have to fight, scratch and claw to get just to catch a glimmer of happiness or fulfillment in our lives. Reaching and rising might just equal stretching and falling. I wonder if the need for understanding, perfect companionship and light hearts is the same for drug abusers? We try it, we like it and the need for the like increases until enough is never enough but sometimes too much?

Everything carries a price. I wonder what the final cost of true happiness could be?

Overheard

In Wal-Mart this evening I overheard a woman say this after reading the headline "Pregancy Joy for Angelina Jolie" on the front of a gossip magazine --- "She's pregnant again"? "She needs to get a TV". I tried to hold a straight face but I failed.

Things That Make Me Happy

Someone recently asked me what made me happy, as I scribbled the list in my mind, for a moment I realized I was a simple person and decided to add my list here...


1. Champagne
2. Snow
3. Puppies' breath
4. Bubbles
5. Smell of fresh cut grass
6. Handwritten lettters
7. Extremely random phone calls from friends or family
8. Kisses on my forehead
9. Fireplaces
10. A long dinner
11. Cool breezes
12. The entire Christmas season

Election Day

Early at the polls this morning, I quickly became #50 in line. Waiting for nearly one hour for the polls to open, I was very glad to be #50 and not #1491. As I made my way into the gymnasium to show my ID and get my ballot and secrecy folder, I felt I was completing a very important civic duty. As I watched the crowd, I noticed a very elderly man with his elderly escort cast their ballots. The gentleman was in very poor condition, barely able to walk without help of his escort and walker. I felt so patriotic at that moment that I almost began to cry. This was the first election that I have ever taken part it in and right now at this moment, I feel very good about my choice. As I cast my ballot I realized that today, November 4, 2008, I became a part of history.

Again

I was minding my own business when the word again popped into my mind. I sounded it out just as you learn to in first grade, "uh-gain". I have never thought of the use of this word as a positive but always used it negatively. Examples:

The toliet is clogged, again.
The dog ate her bed, again.
My car needs gas, again.

You can see where I am going with this. As I thought about the word and kept repeating it, I turned it around, a-gain. For example:

I received a Christmas bonus, it was a-gain.
I made a new friend, A true GAIN.
I saw my dad today for the first time in a year, is a-gain

See how just saying the word differently brings to light an entirely different situation?

Sequel to 3

After two weeks of pondering I've thought of three things that come in 3's that aren't always tragic:

1. Neapolitan Ice Cream

2. 3 Outs in Baseball

3. 3 Strikes in Baseball

Is 3 An Unlucky Number?

Maybe you've heard things come in 3's. For example - accidents, deaths or just bad news. In the past month, 3 friends or acquaintances have told me they were getting a divorce. All choices in the matter were made by the ladies. Is there something in the water? The air? I'm afraid to drink or breath but clearly I need to do a little of both to survive. I tried to think of good things that come in 3's. Nothing came to mind immediately so I pondered for a few moments. A few moments later I was still pondering. I thought of packs of candy, nope. A box of Swiffers, nope. Then it hit me, we have 3 local news affiliates and sets of triplets and my hitting ended there. Maybe because I was trying so hard to focus on what goodness comes in 3's is why nothing came to my mind quickly. When I find the good 3 - I'll let you know.

Irritated

I was looking through a catalog of Christmas cards. Not one card in this catalog offered the greeting "Merry Christmas", "Happy Christmas", "Kiss My Christmas" or anything of the like. I could not find one picture of Santa and no mention of Christ or the Nativity. Are people so sensitive to the word Christmas or pictures of a man in a red suit? Santa has been flying over roof tops, squeezing down chimmney's for hundreds of years and Jesus has been around longer than that. I am not sensitive to people who eat gelfite fish or wear crocheted little beanies which means I don't ask for these items to be removed or changed while in my presence. Nor am I sensitive to religions that completely omit the word Christmas or any other holiday from their vocabulary. It is their choice. If I am not offended by others choices and aren't screaming for them to wear brown derby's, eat tuna from a can or write Christmas is Love a million times on a chalkboard then don't take away my option of a Christmas card boasting Santa giving Jesus a hi-5. You can just bet at a point in the offended's life - Santa did stop in to pay them a visit and lumps of coal were left.

M-O-N-D-A-Y

M - Moaning the blues (not making a joyful noise)
O - Overworked (and underpaid)
N - Nausea (wait - blehh)
D - Dreary (mood altering and not mushroom induced)
A - Abhor (loathe, hate, not looked foward to)
Y - Yowl (crying and still moaning the blues)

For Real?

What seems like seconds ago, a friend of mine told me that "they" were getting a divorce. While not shocked, my heart immediately ached. My lungs closed in tightly around my heart as to hug it and my stomach reached upward and placed a large band aid on it. I guess forever really isn't forever anymore, its just a short period of time. Divorce for most these days is just as easy as changing jobs and I can certainly vouch for that. In a former career, I was completely content in my held position but my co-worker and colleague clearly had higher aspirations for themselves moving up the corporate ladder, so I found myself quickly demoted. Years ago, a former roommate of mine was experiencing turbulent divorce waters as I was moving into her home. At that time in my very inexperienced life, I had no idea of how she felt or what she was dealing with but after walking a mile in her so called shoes, I found myself a couple of years later eating my own words and thoughts about what she had endured. No doubt, divorce is the worst roller coaster ride I have ever been on, which included but was not limited too bouts of nausea and vomiting. But, this is the land of plenty and we are free to choose and do as we will, all within certain legal boundaries and there is nothing more legal than divorce proceedings. After all, the chief cause of divorce is marriage and 100% of all divorces begin in marriage.

How Do You Say Opossum?

Last night my dogs began to do the distress call (that only mother would know) to warn of enemies in their territory. The territory was the backyard and the enemy at paw was a opossum. I grabbed a flash light, digital camera and began to patrol the area like Rambo. When I found the opossum , it was sitting on top of the chain link fence and not dangling from a tree much to my sadness. It was the ususal opossum type - grey spikey fur, beadie eyes, pink paws and a very handsome tail. As I scooted closer, and I say scooted because I was terrified at any moment this thing would yell "Banzai" and lurch toward me and crawl directly up my leg. But again, to my dismay, it just sat there. As I brought the camera up toward my eye some music began. The chosen song was I'm Too Sexy by Right Said Fred. The opossum began to speak in a French accent - do you like me like theese or like theese? How zabout theese? It contorted its body and gave its toothy grin while mentioning something about copyright laws. In shock, I dropped my camera and the music stopped. I picked up the camera and the music began again. This opossum was "cat walking" on the top of the fence rail and voguing if you will, for my camera! I kept clicking and the opossum kept posing. The dogs jowls had dropped to the ground and their eyes were the size of pancakes. They, too could not believe what they were seeing or hearing for that matter. Liddy began to stutter as she pointed toward the runway critter, "Puh, puh, puh, opossums are supposed to play dead not dance to Right Said Fred!", she said. Jack mentioned the bump he took on his head the week before must have knocked something lose. Lori said she'd bunked with one in juvie hall but it never said it was too sexy for a shirt and Gracie just wrapped her ears around her face. As the camera's battery began to dwindle the music dwindled along with it. Before we retreated back inside the opossum requested all photos be airbrushed where needed and would be availabe for work on an as needed basis.

Scaredy Cat

Once upon a time in a life long ago, someone told me they admired me because I wasn't afraid of anything. Today, older but really none the wiser, I realize I am afraid. I am afraid of many things such as:

1. Spiders
2. Heights
3. Not being loved
4. Wearing white after Labor Day
5. Losing my teeth
6. Not getting into Heaven
7. Bad Chinese
8. Public speaking
9. My mother dying
10. Meeting Nikki Sixx and not knowing I have spinach in my teeth
11. Stone washed jeans returning to the world of fashion
12. Living my life without forgiveness for the people I have hurt or not being able to forgive the people who have hurt me

With age comes many things into our life and one of those things that is coming for me is the ability to be more careful and more insightful before I open my mouth, my heart or my hand.

First Grandchild

I am not political in any respect. Actually I have never even voted nor do I know the difference between the democratic and republican platforms. It is a right I exercise. Regardless if I vote or not, tomorrow I will still have to get up and go to work, pay taxes and start my diet all over again. However, I am interested in the world's take on Governor Palin's pregnant, unmarried seventeen year old daughter. Obviously not planned, but Bristol could have not have picked a worse time to become so "delicate". A teenage pregnancy surely isn't anything to roll out the red carpet about but you can just bet a mud laden carpet will surely show itself. Bristol was only doing what most of us are doing, have done or will do in our lives, she just simply got caught. I am not condoning teenage sex or teenage pregnancies but it is something I can't control much like people who abuse the system or hurricane season. Teenagers are curious by nature and today children and adolescents mature quicker than ever. What is a fourteen year old girl supposed to do with a body of a 26 year old woman? Again, I am not saying that sex at an early age should be overlooked or praised. Personally, I don't believe Governor Palin's daughter pregnant or not should have any bearing on the upcoming presidential elections. I would hope all emotions on Governor Palin's part and everyone else involved would be removed and she'll do what is right for America. Children of presidential front runners should be off limits regardless of grades, music choices, super hero preference, pregnant or not, and, I never take up for children.

Choice Chosen

Not too long ago I wrote a short essay on my choice of not having kids. This morning everything I wrote in that short essay came to fruition. As I was sitting in a restaurant ordering breakfast a couple next to me had not one, two or three kids but four. There should be some type of cap of the amount of children one should have especially if they choose to make them "door steps". The smallest child probably 3 years old, cotton top blonde, wore a white t-shirt with a red stain down the front and shoeless was sitting in between mom and dad. As their breakfast order arrived, the child stood up in his seat and exclaimed "pancake!". Then he proceeded to sit on the table while mom just watched. He also threw a fork to the other side of the restaurant. The he attempted to throw the salt shaker - the older sister took the shaker before he could make the double play. Mom nor dad did not get up and retrieve the fork or make an apology to the couple sitting at the table it landed under. The kid continued to shriek as he ate his pancake. The other smallest child was crying because his pancake didn't look right...

Behind me, sat another small child in a high chair. A two year old boy with a horrific "bowl" haircut, that in my opinion just screams "brat" in a overall "onesy" with his name, Ben, embroidered on the front. This particular child was making sounds like the mermaid, Madison, from the movie Splash as she tried to say her name in her native language, "eeeyyyyeeeeeeeek, eeeyyyeeeeeeeek". Maybe the windows didn't shatter but my eardrums burst. An older child at the table was instructed to take Ben outside because he needed to walk (like he was a puppy or something). So she does and in doing so she takes Ben from chair and he cries and flails around in her arms because he wants to be let down. Then outside, stands right in front of the window where I am sitting, holding Ben so he can waive at his mother. Ben's overalls should have read - Damien.

Need I say more?

Back In The Day

In my journey of blogging I still haven't quite decided what a blog is. Say it with me - blog, buh-log. I guess it is a way to express your ideals, passions, life and losses and not necessarily the sound you make after one two many martinis. My grandparents and your grandparents wrote in journals or maybe they didn't write at all. Should I have any grandchildren my story to them may go something like this "In my day we blogged. We blogged and we liked it".