I don't read a lot of blogs, but my favorite ones are linked on the right, especially Cleggy's. After Cleggy mentioned it, I noticed that everyone does seem to have a "Best of 2005" list. Even Cleggy did his version of the same. So I thought I would too, but with a twist.
As Cleggy mentioned in a previous post (In Your Dreams), fortune cookies become something quite humorous when you know the secret of interpretation. So for those of us in the know, here are my favorite fortunes of 2005 in no particular order. (As you can see, I REALLY like Chinese food.)
Someone admires your beauty.
The world is a grand comedy to your sense of humor.
He who has not tasted the bitter does not understand the sweet.
Nothing is impossible to a willing heart.
You have an ability to sense and know a higher truth.
Honesty and integrity are just some of your best attributes.
You will discover a new area of interest.
You have a strong desire for a home and your family interest come first.
Now is a lucky time for you to take a chance.
You will be showered with good luck.
You will make a change for the better.
Your dearest wish will come true.
With a little more hard work, your creativity takes you to great heights.
Explore your own world by working together with your friends.
Your winsome smile will be your sure protection.
A well-directed imagination is the source of great deeds.
A diversity of friends is a credit to your flexible nature.
So there you have it. Hope you all laughed as hard as I did while posting this. And anyone who would like to know the secret of interpretation, leave a comment and I'll share. :)
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
bashful
hair twisted around my finger
i bite my lip
i’m at a loss as to what to say
usually gregarious and loud
i find i’m quite timid
eyes downcast
eyelashes fluttering
i giggle like a schoolgirl
blushing like a child
i wonder who is this woman
suddenly living in my body
will he mistake shyness
for indifference
or just grow bored
and walk away
i bite my lip
i’m at a loss as to what to say
usually gregarious and loud
i find i’m quite timid
eyes downcast
eyelashes fluttering
i giggle like a schoolgirl
blushing like a child
i wonder who is this woman
suddenly living in my body
will he mistake shyness
for indifference
or just grow bored
and walk away
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Five Things... (Stolen from Cleggy)
5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Golden Delicious apples
2. Cinnamon popcorn
3. Slim Jims
4. Bananas
5. Sugar free chocolate covered almonds
5 artists that I know the lyrics of most of their songs:
1. Barenaked Ladies
2. Collective Soul
3. Matchbox 20
4. Maroon 5
5. Robbie Williams
5 things I’d do with $100 million:
1. Pay off the debts of myself, my family, Cleggy & his family, and Margo
2. Move closer to Cleggy
3. Buy Cleggy a home theatre/entertainment room with a really bitchin' stereo system
4. Buy Cleggy a home recording studio (anticipating all the really cool CD's I get out of that deal)
5. Donate money to libraries and many other charities, especially American Diabetes Association
5 locations I’d like to run away to:
1. England
2. Ireland
3. Scotland
4. Italy
5. A vacation cabin anywhere Cleggy & I can get away to
5 things I like doing:
1. Reading
2. Watching movies
3. Listening to music
4. Talking to/spending time with Cleggy & his family
5. Writing
5 things I would never wear:
1. Daisy Dukes
2. Tube top
3. Bikini
4. Micro-mini skirt
5. A piercing anywhere other than my ears
5 TV shows I like:
1. All the CSI shows
2. BritComs
3. House
4. NCIS
5. Ghost Whisperer
5 movies I like:
1. A Very Long Engagement
2. Amelie
3. Pride & Prejudice (A&E version with Colin Firth)
4. The Emperor's New Groove
5. The Librarian
5 famous people I’d like to meet:
1. Kevin Smith
2. Andy Partridge
3. George Lucas
4. Barenaked Ladies (it's my list and they count as one person)
5. Alton Brown
5 favorite toys:
1. My computer
2. Books
3. My new CD player (Thanks Cleggy!)
4. Board games (particularly trivia games & Scrabble)
5. Sudoku games
5 People I want to do this:
1. I'll repeat Cleggy's repeat of Jessi's offer: "Whoever's bored, send it to me."
1. Golden Delicious apples
2. Cinnamon popcorn
3. Slim Jims
4. Bananas
5. Sugar free chocolate covered almonds
5 artists that I know the lyrics of most of their songs:
1. Barenaked Ladies
2. Collective Soul
3. Matchbox 20
4. Maroon 5
5. Robbie Williams
5 things I’d do with $100 million:
1. Pay off the debts of myself, my family, Cleggy & his family, and Margo
2. Move closer to Cleggy
3. Buy Cleggy a home theatre/entertainment room with a really bitchin' stereo system
4. Buy Cleggy a home recording studio (anticipating all the really cool CD's I get out of that deal)
5. Donate money to libraries and many other charities, especially American Diabetes Association
5 locations I’d like to run away to:
1. England
2. Ireland
3. Scotland
4. Italy
5. A vacation cabin anywhere Cleggy & I can get away to
5 things I like doing:
1. Reading
2. Watching movies
3. Listening to music
4. Talking to/spending time with Cleggy & his family
5. Writing
5 things I would never wear:
1. Daisy Dukes
2. Tube top
3. Bikini
4. Micro-mini skirt
5. A piercing anywhere other than my ears
5 TV shows I like:
1. All the CSI shows
2. BritComs
3. House
4. NCIS
5. Ghost Whisperer
5 movies I like:
1. A Very Long Engagement
2. Amelie
3. Pride & Prejudice (A&E version with Colin Firth)
4. The Emperor's New Groove
5. The Librarian
5 famous people I’d like to meet:
1. Kevin Smith
2. Andy Partridge
3. George Lucas
4. Barenaked Ladies (it's my list and they count as one person)
5. Alton Brown
5 favorite toys:
1. My computer
2. Books
3. My new CD player (Thanks Cleggy!)
4. Board games (particularly trivia games & Scrabble)
5. Sudoku games
5 People I want to do this:
1. I'll repeat Cleggy's repeat of Jessi's offer: "Whoever's bored, send it to me."
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Sound of Music...
When we started this blogging thing I figured I'd leave the musical posts to Cleggy. He is the expert after all. I am just a very willing student of his musical education.
This blog is a bit of homage. To Cleggy and the wonderful music he's enriched my life with. This is by no means a comprehensive list and they are listed in no particular order.
XTC
A very quirky band from Swindon, England. Not long after I met Cleggy this group was in heavy play rotation in his life. He made tapes of three of their albums for me to listen to. Each tape was listened to a couple of times, but eventually were put into a drawer. Over a year ago those tapes came out of the drawer and became the only thing I played in my car. I became so enamored of this group that I bought each of those CD's off of eBay. I even bought their first CD. While that CD doesn't get much play, the other CD's I bought still do.
World Party
Cleggy sent me one of their CD's just to share them with me. I liked them immediately. Flash forward a couple of years. I'm watching what has since become one of my favorite movies, THE MATCHMAKER. As the movie is coming to a close one of mine & Cleggy's favorite songs begins to play, "She's The One". Needless to say I was quite excited.
Kathleen Wilhoite
All I can say is that if you haven't heard her sing then you are missing out. Her songs strike cords (no pun intended) that haven't been struck since Joni Mitchell. It's not just about her voice. It's about the words she sings and how she sings them. So many singers these days put absolutely no emotion into their songs. Their goal is to impress you with their vocal range. Kathleen's goal seems to be making you feel how she's feeling. And believe me when I say she's damn good at it.
Within Temptation
I was no stranger to Goth Rock when Cleggy first introduced me to this group. After one song, I realized that Amy Lee is an amateur and she shouldn't have given up her day job. After one video, it was Amy who?
Minnie Driver
I've been a fan of her acting since I first saw her in CIRCLE OF FRIENDS (insert Cleggy groan here). One of my favorite movies despite Chris O'Donnell's hideous Irish accent. And I've been a fan of her music from the first moment Cleggy sent me to her website.
Emma Shapplin
My idea of ultimate relaxation is listening to Emma while soaking in a hot bubble bath with a good book. Try it and you'll see what I mean.
Gomez
What can I say? This band rocks in a very serious way.
Popup Boy
This group combines outstanding vocals with a very wicked sense of humor. They make bad sound very good.
Polyphonic Spree
This band is like sunshine mixed with sugar. Perfect for the life soundtrack of a very perky person.
So thank you Cleggy for all the wonderful music you introduce me to!
All I can say is, what's next?! :P
This blog is a bit of homage. To Cleggy and the wonderful music he's enriched my life with. This is by no means a comprehensive list and they are listed in no particular order.
XTC
A very quirky band from Swindon, England. Not long after I met Cleggy this group was in heavy play rotation in his life. He made tapes of three of their albums for me to listen to. Each tape was listened to a couple of times, but eventually were put into a drawer. Over a year ago those tapes came out of the drawer and became the only thing I played in my car. I became so enamored of this group that I bought each of those CD's off of eBay. I even bought their first CD. While that CD doesn't get much play, the other CD's I bought still do.
World Party
Cleggy sent me one of their CD's just to share them with me. I liked them immediately. Flash forward a couple of years. I'm watching what has since become one of my favorite movies, THE MATCHMAKER. As the movie is coming to a close one of mine & Cleggy's favorite songs begins to play, "She's The One". Needless to say I was quite excited.
Kathleen Wilhoite
All I can say is that if you haven't heard her sing then you are missing out. Her songs strike cords (no pun intended) that haven't been struck since Joni Mitchell. It's not just about her voice. It's about the words she sings and how she sings them. So many singers these days put absolutely no emotion into their songs. Their goal is to impress you with their vocal range. Kathleen's goal seems to be making you feel how she's feeling. And believe me when I say she's damn good at it.
Within Temptation
I was no stranger to Goth Rock when Cleggy first introduced me to this group. After one song, I realized that Amy Lee is an amateur and she shouldn't have given up her day job. After one video, it was Amy who?
Minnie Driver
I've been a fan of her acting since I first saw her in CIRCLE OF FRIENDS (insert Cleggy groan here). One of my favorite movies despite Chris O'Donnell's hideous Irish accent. And I've been a fan of her music from the first moment Cleggy sent me to her website.
Emma Shapplin
My idea of ultimate relaxation is listening to Emma while soaking in a hot bubble bath with a good book. Try it and you'll see what I mean.
Gomez
What can I say? This band rocks in a very serious way.
Popup Boy
This group combines outstanding vocals with a very wicked sense of humor. They make bad sound very good.
Polyphonic Spree
This band is like sunshine mixed with sugar. Perfect for the life soundtrack of a very perky person.
So thank you Cleggy for all the wonderful music you introduce me to!
All I can say is, what's next?! :P
Train of Thought
So I don’t have a kingdom,
But I still need that pen,
Or a pencil,
Or even a crayon.
And some paper, of any sort.
Give me that
I have this thought,
Just the merest of ideas,
I need to get it down before,
It drifts back into the mist
Of my fuddled brain.
Oh, and just a moment
Of quiet solitude.
No phone,
No demands,
No one.
If I’m quick enough,
I can get this down before
This train of thought derails.
Just one more second......
TOO LATE!!!!!!
This train of thought derailed
And crashed into a mountain.
Details on the evening news,
Film at 11.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Work in Progress......
Her:
I drop the quarters in the dryer and hear that satisfying clink as my clothes started to spin. I sit down and am immediately engrossed in my book. Despite the draw of the words in my hands, after a few minutes I get the strange feeling that I’m being watched. I shrug it off and continue reading.
When the feeling won’t go away, I look up and scan the room around me. My eyes move from the young man chasing down a toddler as his very pregnant wife takes clothes from a dryer to the obviously single man staring at the back of a laundry detergent bottle in confusion. Everyone is living their lives and definitely not paying attention to me.
I shake my head and go back to my book. The feeling grows stronger and I look up just in time to see a man in his mid-thirties putting wet clothes in the dryer next to mine. I watch him long enough to see him cast a surreptitious glance in my direction. When he realizes I’ve noticed, he smiles at me shyly.
He walks over and sits one chair away from me. I give him points for respecting my personal space. He smiles again and says, “Do you come here often?” My eyes meet his a moment before we both groan and then laugh.
After we’ve caught our breath, he says, “Let me try that again. Hi, my name is Stephen.” I shake his offered hand and reply with a smile, “I’m Molly. And to answer your question, yes I’m here every week.”
He blushes again and I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a man blush. Men my age just don’t blush. Apparently they are all to cool for that. Or at least they think they are too cool.
“This is my first time here.” Stephen’s voice pulls me out of my not so nice thoughts about men in general. “I just moved into the neighborhood.”
“Oh? Where from?” I ask and the small talk begins. Nothing too heavy and with some light flirting thrown in for interest. I’m tempted to tell him that flirting in a laudromat is passé but realize just in time that I’m really not the type of person that uses the word passé. Besides, he’s cute and I realize that I like it.
A shout of “Hey lady, are you done with this dryer or what?” makes me realize I’ve lost all track of time. I blush and go grab my clothes from their round holding cell.
Him:
Did she just blush? Most women my age think they are too sophisticated for that. My pleasure at knowing she’s not like that is only slightly diminished by my lingering embarrassment at inadvertently saying what sounded like a horrible pickup line. I’m amazed she’s still talking to me.
Not that I was trying to pick her up. Was I? No of course not. Just trying to make new friends. Yeah right. You don’t pick your friends because they have gorgeous, long strawberry-blonde hair or laughing blue eyes. Well, you’re not supposed to.
More to come? You tell me if it's worth the effort.
I drop the quarters in the dryer and hear that satisfying clink as my clothes started to spin. I sit down and am immediately engrossed in my book. Despite the draw of the words in my hands, after a few minutes I get the strange feeling that I’m being watched. I shrug it off and continue reading.
When the feeling won’t go away, I look up and scan the room around me. My eyes move from the young man chasing down a toddler as his very pregnant wife takes clothes from a dryer to the obviously single man staring at the back of a laundry detergent bottle in confusion. Everyone is living their lives and definitely not paying attention to me.
I shake my head and go back to my book. The feeling grows stronger and I look up just in time to see a man in his mid-thirties putting wet clothes in the dryer next to mine. I watch him long enough to see him cast a surreptitious glance in my direction. When he realizes I’ve noticed, he smiles at me shyly.
He walks over and sits one chair away from me. I give him points for respecting my personal space. He smiles again and says, “Do you come here often?” My eyes meet his a moment before we both groan and then laugh.
After we’ve caught our breath, he says, “Let me try that again. Hi, my name is Stephen.” I shake his offered hand and reply with a smile, “I’m Molly. And to answer your question, yes I’m here every week.”
He blushes again and I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a man blush. Men my age just don’t blush. Apparently they are all to cool for that. Or at least they think they are too cool.
“This is my first time here.” Stephen’s voice pulls me out of my not so nice thoughts about men in general. “I just moved into the neighborhood.”
“Oh? Where from?” I ask and the small talk begins. Nothing too heavy and with some light flirting thrown in for interest. I’m tempted to tell him that flirting in a laudromat is passé but realize just in time that I’m really not the type of person that uses the word passé. Besides, he’s cute and I realize that I like it.
A shout of “Hey lady, are you done with this dryer or what?” makes me realize I’ve lost all track of time. I blush and go grab my clothes from their round holding cell.
Him:
Did she just blush? Most women my age think they are too sophisticated for that. My pleasure at knowing she’s not like that is only slightly diminished by my lingering embarrassment at inadvertently saying what sounded like a horrible pickup line. I’m amazed she’s still talking to me.
Not that I was trying to pick her up. Was I? No of course not. Just trying to make new friends. Yeah right. You don’t pick your friends because they have gorgeous, long strawberry-blonde hair or laughing blue eyes. Well, you’re not supposed to.
More to come? You tell me if it's worth the effort.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
No Rhyme or Reason...
Yesterday I decided to write a poem to post. So I opened up a blank Word document and typed the words as they came to me. The following is the result.
At first I decided not to post it. Be warned the language is a bit strong in a couple of places. Be assured it is a work of fiction and not a reflection of myself or anyone I know.
Sometimes my poetry is as much a surprise to me as it is to others. Sometimes I'm merely the scribe to an unknown author and their origins a mystery even to me.
Without further ado here is my latest poem......
random
it’s not love or even lust
he’s just a random fuck
that forgot to leave
when the one night stand ended
you’ve been drifting
from bed to bed
since the very first time
searching
for fun
for yourself
for love
but only finding
loneliness
bitterness
forgetfulness
the pain never eases
it just slips farther
into the abyss
threatening
to take you with it
over the edge
of eternal blackness
soul blinding
love stealing
nothingness
no one can hear you scream
inside that black hole
you’re digging for yourself
deeper and deeper
with each random lover
faces without names
strangers passing through
the wheel of chance
stops on him
and you convince yourself
this is the real thing
the only thing
but it’s just
the lonely thing
it’s not love or even lust
you’re just a random fuck
that forgot to leave
when the one night stand ended
At first I decided not to post it. Be warned the language is a bit strong in a couple of places. Be assured it is a work of fiction and not a reflection of myself or anyone I know.
Sometimes my poetry is as much a surprise to me as it is to others. Sometimes I'm merely the scribe to an unknown author and their origins a mystery even to me.
Without further ado here is my latest poem......
random
it’s not love or even lust
he’s just a random fuck
that forgot to leave
when the one night stand ended
you’ve been drifting
from bed to bed
since the very first time
searching
for fun
for yourself
for love
but only finding
loneliness
bitterness
forgetfulness
the pain never eases
it just slips farther
into the abyss
threatening
to take you with it
over the edge
of eternal blackness
soul blinding
love stealing
nothingness
no one can hear you scream
inside that black hole
you’re digging for yourself
deeper and deeper
with each random lover
faces without names
strangers passing through
the wheel of chance
stops on him
and you convince yourself
this is the real thing
the only thing
but it’s just
the lonely thing
it’s not love or even lust
you’re just a random fuck
that forgot to leave
when the one night stand ended
Thursday, December 08, 2005
I Would Be The Happiest Girl In The World If......
So many things can complete that phrase. Some I can post here and some I can't, but there are many.
Not because there are a lot of things I want. I'm not really very materialistic. If I have enough money to pay all my bills with some left over to visit Cleggy once a month or so, rent a few movies, buy a book every now and then, and put a bit in savings for a trip to England then I'm a very happy princess.
Actually, my family is pretty sure that my happiness is genetic. Some would go so far as to call me perky. I've even been asked if I could tone it down a bit in the mornings by a boss who didn't function until after her third cup of coffee.
Sometimes I get a bit down on myself. Not so much questioning my worth, as questioning my worthiness. People tend to want to protect me or make a fuss over me. Much to the dismay of my stubborn loved ones, I wonder if I am worthy of that much trouble. But I'm never down for long.
I quoted John Lennon earlier and the phrase has stuck with me all day. Nearly a year to the day before I was born, the Beatles recorded the philosophy of my life. "All You Need Is Love"
Truer words were never spoken. Or sung.
Not because there are a lot of things I want. I'm not really very materialistic. If I have enough money to pay all my bills with some left over to visit Cleggy once a month or so, rent a few movies, buy a book every now and then, and put a bit in savings for a trip to England then I'm a very happy princess.
Actually, my family is pretty sure that my happiness is genetic. Some would go so far as to call me perky. I've even been asked if I could tone it down a bit in the mornings by a boss who didn't function until after her third cup of coffee.
Sometimes I get a bit down on myself. Not so much questioning my worth, as questioning my worthiness. People tend to want to protect me or make a fuss over me. Much to the dismay of my stubborn loved ones, I wonder if I am worthy of that much trouble. But I'm never down for long.
I quoted John Lennon earlier and the phrase has stuck with me all day. Nearly a year to the day before I was born, the Beatles recorded the philosophy of my life. "All You Need Is Love"
Truer words were never spoken. Or sung.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
On Blogging...
Well, I sort of got into this blogging thing to get Cleggy blogging. Let's face it. The man is an uber talented writer, as anyone who has read his blog will agree. And he needs to be writing. Heck he needs to be getting paid for writing. The guy reads a ton of blogs so you'd think that talking him into blogging would be easy, right? Not so much.
In true Cleggy style after months of me mentioning it whenever I could work it into the conversation and then finally giving up, he says, "Hey let's start blogging." Cut to me getting up off the floor after fainting. I'm so excited that I immediately sign up. I get into it. I pick out a template & layout. List some links. Cleggy comes up with the name of my blog and I'm all set.
Dagnabit! Now I have to write! If this were a video blog, this is where you'd see me in full panic mode. Thankfully it is not since at that moment I was in my nightgown. Not a pretty site.
Okay, the first blog was easy. Sheer fluff. Short and sweet.
Now here we are over two weeks later and all my good intentions have been shot. I have not blogged every day. No world-stopping revelations revealed. No witty insights or pithy comments.
So why are you still reading this?! Probably because you know and love me. Not an audience to complain about for sure. And why am I still struggling to keep blogging? Probably because I know that without a writing outlet I feel stifled, even smothered.
I might not be good at it, but I need it. If I don't express myself through the written word I feel as if my mind is collapsing in on itself. As if everything that makes me who I am is falling into an internal black hole. Devoured by a vast nothingness where not even the light of ten suns has the power to exist. Let alone shine.
So I started blogging for Cleggy, but I keep blogging for me. Hoping in all of this that one or two thoughts won't get lost in the translation from my alien brain to the electronic pulses that make up the internet. Praying for the moment every writer longs for. The all too brief moment when for an instant another human being reads the words you wrote and truly understands them as you meant them to be. The fleeting connection of mind and soul that makes a writer's heart beat faster and gives them a rush like no other.
That's been the draw for me since I was five and I first put on paper the bedtime stories I made up for my little brother. From the first word I was hooked and it's a habit I have no intention of breaking.
In true Cleggy style after months of me mentioning it whenever I could work it into the conversation and then finally giving up, he says, "Hey let's start blogging." Cut to me getting up off the floor after fainting. I'm so excited that I immediately sign up. I get into it. I pick out a template & layout. List some links. Cleggy comes up with the name of my blog and I'm all set.
Dagnabit! Now I have to write! If this were a video blog, this is where you'd see me in full panic mode. Thankfully it is not since at that moment I was in my nightgown. Not a pretty site.
Okay, the first blog was easy. Sheer fluff. Short and sweet.
Now here we are over two weeks later and all my good intentions have been shot. I have not blogged every day. No world-stopping revelations revealed. No witty insights or pithy comments.
So why are you still reading this?! Probably because you know and love me. Not an audience to complain about for sure. And why am I still struggling to keep blogging? Probably because I know that without a writing outlet I feel stifled, even smothered.
I might not be good at it, but I need it. If I don't express myself through the written word I feel as if my mind is collapsing in on itself. As if everything that makes me who I am is falling into an internal black hole. Devoured by a vast nothingness where not even the light of ten suns has the power to exist. Let alone shine.
So I started blogging for Cleggy, but I keep blogging for me. Hoping in all of this that one or two thoughts won't get lost in the translation from my alien brain to the electronic pulses that make up the internet. Praying for the moment every writer longs for. The all too brief moment when for an instant another human being reads the words you wrote and truly understands them as you meant them to be. The fleeting connection of mind and soul that makes a writer's heart beat faster and gives them a rush like no other.
That's been the draw for me since I was five and I first put on paper the bedtime stories I made up for my little brother. From the first word I was hooked and it's a habit I have no intention of breaking.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Dirty Laundry...
I went to the laundromat today just like I do about every other Sunday. I go to the same one each time because it's clean and the lady that runs it is very nice. It's just me so I can wash & dry all my clothes in an hour. I always bring a book and pretty much keep to myself. I'm shy and don't usually start conversations with strangers. Not so shy that I won't speak if spoken to, but shy enough that more often than not I don't say a single word while I'm there.
Although I always bring my book, I'm a multi-tasker so I'm people watching while I'm reading. I'm told I have a sweet smile and maybe that's the reason why it never fails that my reading will be interrupted by a tiny hand on my arm, my knee, or even in the middle of my book. Mostly curious toddlers with angelic faces. No conversation needed. Just a shared smile before the toddle off. The bolder ones will peek around the corner at me later or even come back.
Usually their caretaker is not far behind them, but occasionally I never see anyone coming to fetch them back to safety. When I do see a caretaker, they often don't see me as a threat at all even though I am a stranger. It's a frightening thought. I am harmless, but what if I were not? Several times I could have had the unprotesting child into my car and miles away before they would have been missed. And I could have done it without the lure of candy or treats. Okay, maybe the children sense that I'm a good person and that I mean them no harm. But should we be trusting the instincts of a two year old?
My best friend has a nephew who is much older than a toddler, but not quite a pre-teen. We don't often get to go do things alone, but when we do I can honestly tell you that he doesn't leave my sight except to go into the bathroom. He's too old to go into the ladies' room with me, but you can bet my eyes never leave the men's room door until he comes out and I can tell you exactly how long he's been in there. He's not my child, but when we are out together he is in my charge and I would never take that responsibility lightly.
So why are there so many parents out there that just let their kids roam free? And not just laundromats either. I see it in stores and malls. Crowded places just made for stealing or harming someone's child. Do they think that just because everyone is there to do their laundry or to shop that they'll be too busy to harm a child? This isn't the movies. The bad guys don't wear black hats. Creepy music doesn't suddenly play when they enter the scene. And more importantly, Bruce Willis isn't going to suddenly come storming in and save their child BEFORE they are irreparably harmed.
You have to get a license to hunt or fish, but just anyone can have a kid. Even if they aren't prepared, capable, or even willing to keep them safe.
Although I always bring my book, I'm a multi-tasker so I'm people watching while I'm reading. I'm told I have a sweet smile and maybe that's the reason why it never fails that my reading will be interrupted by a tiny hand on my arm, my knee, or even in the middle of my book. Mostly curious toddlers with angelic faces. No conversation needed. Just a shared smile before the toddle off. The bolder ones will peek around the corner at me later or even come back.
Usually their caretaker is not far behind them, but occasionally I never see anyone coming to fetch them back to safety. When I do see a caretaker, they often don't see me as a threat at all even though I am a stranger. It's a frightening thought. I am harmless, but what if I were not? Several times I could have had the unprotesting child into my car and miles away before they would have been missed. And I could have done it without the lure of candy or treats. Okay, maybe the children sense that I'm a good person and that I mean them no harm. But should we be trusting the instincts of a two year old?
My best friend has a nephew who is much older than a toddler, but not quite a pre-teen. We don't often get to go do things alone, but when we do I can honestly tell you that he doesn't leave my sight except to go into the bathroom. He's too old to go into the ladies' room with me, but you can bet my eyes never leave the men's room door until he comes out and I can tell you exactly how long he's been in there. He's not my child, but when we are out together he is in my charge and I would never take that responsibility lightly.
So why are there so many parents out there that just let their kids roam free? And not just laundromats either. I see it in stores and malls. Crowded places just made for stealing or harming someone's child. Do they think that just because everyone is there to do their laundry or to shop that they'll be too busy to harm a child? This isn't the movies. The bad guys don't wear black hats. Creepy music doesn't suddenly play when they enter the scene. And more importantly, Bruce Willis isn't going to suddenly come storming in and save their child BEFORE they are irreparably harmed.
You have to get a license to hunt or fish, but just anyone can have a kid. Even if they aren't prepared, capable, or even willing to keep them safe.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Variation on a Theme...
The drive to Cleggy's flies by and seems to take an eternity at the same time. We haven't seen each other for months and I fight to keep the car from going far faster than the posted limit. But I finally make it and go straight to pick him up from his second job.
I call to let him know I am there and before I can get out of the car, he has the building locked and is crawling into the passenger seat. One look at him and I want to hug him tightly, launch myself into his arms, and smother him with kisses all at once. Cleggy hugs me across the center consol of my car and I breathe the familiar scent of him, taking it in as deep as I can. I often find myself gathering as many sensory perceptions as I can and hoarding them for later when we're not together. For those moments when he feels a million miles away. They help to keep the loneliness at bay.
On the way to his house we stop at his main job so he can secure the place for the long holiday weekend. I sneak in with him because my bladder has just reminded me that it was a long drive with no stops. By the time I'm out, he's all done. As we are walking to the door he stops me. Demanding what he calls a proper hug, he turns me towards him and wraps his arms around me tightly. I sigh and relax deeper into his embrace. That one hug is worth the drive. When his lips meet mine I know that I would have driven much farther.
Reluctantly we separate and head to his house. As always, his family is waiting for us. House ablaze and ready to welcome us. It's as if everyone has been waiting for this very moment to arrive. As if their entire day has been leading up to the moment when we'd walk in. Or maybe it's me that's been longing for this moment.
Even though it has gotten him into trouble, Cleggy's nephew has stayed up past his bedtime to see me. I sternly tell him I'm glad to see him but he must go to bed. Before he walks down the hall to his bedroom, we share the secret smile of co-conspirators. He's my best buddy and he knows that I'd have stayed up past my bedtime to see him too.
It's a nice evening of talking and a bit of television while I try not to act like I'm ready to grab Cleggy and head back to my house. I love his family very much but I have been looking forward to some quiet time with Cleggy for weeks. Time seems to crawl slower than a snail on quaaludes. Finally after lunch we say our goodbyes and get into the car. A quick stop for gas and we are headed back towards my house.
Cleggy's musical odyssey begins and I'm a willing captive. He drives so I'm free to concentrate on the music. And free to give him the excited reactions he hopes for as he plans our travel CD's. As always it's an interesting ride. Cleggy's musical universe is an eclectic one and his sense of humor never fails to make me laugh until I cry or beg for mercy.
The next three days and nights are filled with more music, numerous movies, and copious amounts of sensory perceptions for me to hoard. We visit several bookstores and video stores. Both of us go home with several more things than we left home with. I take him to one of my favorite restaurants and through it all we talk and laugh. A lot.
All too soon Sunday arrives and it's time for me to return him to his family. After all they've only let me borrow him. The drive takes a bit longer than usual because I find the closer to his house we get, the slower I drive. What can I say? I don't want it to end. But reality intrudes and we both have jobs and responsibilities to go back to.
Two things get me by as I plod through my days. I will be spending Christmas with Cleggy and his family. Highlighted by an overnight trip together to see my brother. And best of all Cleggy will be here again on New Year's.
Last year we started a new tradition that I am quite looking forward to this year. More excited that I could ever be about a party or some traditional New Year's activity. All I need is DEAD MAN'S WALK in the DVD player, sparkling grape juice for toasting, and Cleggy beside me as the New Year rolls in.
Life truly is good.
I call to let him know I am there and before I can get out of the car, he has the building locked and is crawling into the passenger seat. One look at him and I want to hug him tightly, launch myself into his arms, and smother him with kisses all at once. Cleggy hugs me across the center consol of my car and I breathe the familiar scent of him, taking it in as deep as I can. I often find myself gathering as many sensory perceptions as I can and hoarding them for later when we're not together. For those moments when he feels a million miles away. They help to keep the loneliness at bay.
On the way to his house we stop at his main job so he can secure the place for the long holiday weekend. I sneak in with him because my bladder has just reminded me that it was a long drive with no stops. By the time I'm out, he's all done. As we are walking to the door he stops me. Demanding what he calls a proper hug, he turns me towards him and wraps his arms around me tightly. I sigh and relax deeper into his embrace. That one hug is worth the drive. When his lips meet mine I know that I would have driven much farther.
Reluctantly we separate and head to his house. As always, his family is waiting for us. House ablaze and ready to welcome us. It's as if everyone has been waiting for this very moment to arrive. As if their entire day has been leading up to the moment when we'd walk in. Or maybe it's me that's been longing for this moment.
Even though it has gotten him into trouble, Cleggy's nephew has stayed up past his bedtime to see me. I sternly tell him I'm glad to see him but he must go to bed. Before he walks down the hall to his bedroom, we share the secret smile of co-conspirators. He's my best buddy and he knows that I'd have stayed up past my bedtime to see him too.
It's a nice evening of talking and a bit of television while I try not to act like I'm ready to grab Cleggy and head back to my house. I love his family very much but I have been looking forward to some quiet time with Cleggy for weeks. Time seems to crawl slower than a snail on quaaludes. Finally after lunch we say our goodbyes and get into the car. A quick stop for gas and we are headed back towards my house.
Cleggy's musical odyssey begins and I'm a willing captive. He drives so I'm free to concentrate on the music. And free to give him the excited reactions he hopes for as he plans our travel CD's. As always it's an interesting ride. Cleggy's musical universe is an eclectic one and his sense of humor never fails to make me laugh until I cry or beg for mercy.
The next three days and nights are filled with more music, numerous movies, and copious amounts of sensory perceptions for me to hoard. We visit several bookstores and video stores. Both of us go home with several more things than we left home with. I take him to one of my favorite restaurants and through it all we talk and laugh. A lot.
All too soon Sunday arrives and it's time for me to return him to his family. After all they've only let me borrow him. The drive takes a bit longer than usual because I find the closer to his house we get, the slower I drive. What can I say? I don't want it to end. But reality intrudes and we both have jobs and responsibilities to go back to.
Two things get me by as I plod through my days. I will be spending Christmas with Cleggy and his family. Highlighted by an overnight trip together to see my brother. And best of all Cleggy will be here again on New Year's.
Last year we started a new tradition that I am quite looking forward to this year. More excited that I could ever be about a party or some traditional New Year's activity. All I need is DEAD MAN'S WALK in the DVD player, sparkling grape juice for toasting, and Cleggy beside me as the New Year rolls in.
Life truly is good.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Confessions of a Best Friend...
I spent my Thanksgiving holiday with my best friend and his family. I was very grateful for the invitation. Since my parents moved a little over a year ago, this city has felt less and less like home. And the thought of spending the holiday alone was too depressing for words. So Cleggy to the rescue as usual. Thanks, Cleg!
So on to the confessions...
A friend at work asked me if spending time with Cleggy was really worth all the effort. Leaving work on Wednesday for a more than three-hour drive to Cleggy's house. Eat Thanksgiving dinner with him and his family. Cleggy and I making the three-hour drive back to my house right after eating. Spending Friday & Saturday at my house then doing the same three-hour drive back to his house on Sunday. Monday finding me retracing that three-hour drive back to my house alone. So, my answer to the friend from work? I would do more for less time with him.
And that was BEFORE the weekend in question. :)
As Cleggy says we watched way too many movies and listened to way too much music. We relaxed, talked, visited several bookstores, went out to eat a couple of times, rescued a computer from a friend that we are planning to repair, and Cleggy bought me a new friend, Puddin'. All in all it was a GREAT weekend. But then it always is.
Now don't think I've forgotten about those confessions. I haven't. Just giving a bit of back story.
Cleggy is the master of all travel CD's. Knowing he is going to be making one is a definite highlight to any trip with him. Knowing that I get to keep them is more than a highlight, it's the rule. Knowing he was making 7 CD's caused excitement and anticipation usually reserved for small children the night before Christmas.
Of course, Cleggy didn't let me down. Each and every CD was a musical journey I wouldn't have wanted to take with anyone but him. Every CD was different and as eclectic as Cleggy. When he asked me later on which one was my favorite, I couldn't answer. They each had something extraordinary about them. It was nothing short of blissful.
So in an effort to repay him I make the following confessions to amuse and please him.
1. Yes, I really do like all that chivalrous, gentlemanly stuff.
2. I will spend weeks looking up the groups on these CD's at your fav site - www.allmusic.com
And for his ultimate enjoyment...
3. I REALLY liked the song by Tiffany from her latest album. (Yup, the former pop princess from the 80's.)
Go easy on me Cleggy. Remember I'm your best friend. :P
So on to the confessions...
A friend at work asked me if spending time with Cleggy was really worth all the effort. Leaving work on Wednesday for a more than three-hour drive to Cleggy's house. Eat Thanksgiving dinner with him and his family. Cleggy and I making the three-hour drive back to my house right after eating. Spending Friday & Saturday at my house then doing the same three-hour drive back to his house on Sunday. Monday finding me retracing that three-hour drive back to my house alone. So, my answer to the friend from work? I would do more for less time with him.
And that was BEFORE the weekend in question. :)
As Cleggy says we watched way too many movies and listened to way too much music. We relaxed, talked, visited several bookstores, went out to eat a couple of times, rescued a computer from a friend that we are planning to repair, and Cleggy bought me a new friend, Puddin'. All in all it was a GREAT weekend. But then it always is.
Now don't think I've forgotten about those confessions. I haven't. Just giving a bit of back story.
Cleggy is the master of all travel CD's. Knowing he is going to be making one is a definite highlight to any trip with him. Knowing that I get to keep them is more than a highlight, it's the rule. Knowing he was making 7 CD's caused excitement and anticipation usually reserved for small children the night before Christmas.
Of course, Cleggy didn't let me down. Each and every CD was a musical journey I wouldn't have wanted to take with anyone but him. Every CD was different and as eclectic as Cleggy. When he asked me later on which one was my favorite, I couldn't answer. They each had something extraordinary about them. It was nothing short of blissful.
So in an effort to repay him I make the following confessions to amuse and please him.
1. Yes, I really do like all that chivalrous, gentlemanly stuff.
2. I will spend weeks looking up the groups on these CD's at your fav site - www.allmusic.com
And for his ultimate enjoyment...
3. I REALLY liked the song by Tiffany from her latest album. (Yup, the former pop princess from the 80's.)
Go easy on me Cleggy. Remember I'm your best friend. :P
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Chrysalis emerging...
I've got a young friend (early 20's) who has a new job. It's not his first job and it's not his dream job, but it's becoming a great job.
Tonight he was telling me how proud of him I would be because he's working hard. Instead of going in, doing the minimum expected, and going home, he's doing his best and taking the initiative as often as he can. When he sees something that needs doing, he doesn't complain that it's someone else's job. He jumps in and gets it done. He's showing respect for his superiors. And best of all, he's enjoying the job.
He's come quite a long way from the angry 17 year old I first met years ago. He was probably days away from either quitting school or getting kicked out. He hated the world and everyone in it. I don't think I'll ever understand how we became friends, but I'm glad it happened.
He tells me that I'm the reason he graduated from high school and is now in college. I can't agree. He's done all the hard work. And it's exciting not only to see him setting goals for himself but also achieving them. Especially remembering all the times he told me he would never amount to anything. How wrong he was.
He might only be unloading packages on the horrendous 4am to 10am shift at a local shipping warehouse, but he's making his way to his dreams. Slowly breaking the trail that leads to a college education and that computer job he's been longing for. Or maybe that military career. Or any number of things he knows he can do.
And if he wasn't making enough progress he's lost about 60 lbs. over the last year. Is it just me or is this kid amazing? So I guess what I've been working up to is, yeah I'm proud of him. I've always known he would amount to something. I am overjoyed that he's finally seeing that too.
Tonight he was telling me how proud of him I would be because he's working hard. Instead of going in, doing the minimum expected, and going home, he's doing his best and taking the initiative as often as he can. When he sees something that needs doing, he doesn't complain that it's someone else's job. He jumps in and gets it done. He's showing respect for his superiors. And best of all, he's enjoying the job.
He's come quite a long way from the angry 17 year old I first met years ago. He was probably days away from either quitting school or getting kicked out. He hated the world and everyone in it. I don't think I'll ever understand how we became friends, but I'm glad it happened.
He tells me that I'm the reason he graduated from high school and is now in college. I can't agree. He's done all the hard work. And it's exciting not only to see him setting goals for himself but also achieving them. Especially remembering all the times he told me he would never amount to anything. How wrong he was.
He might only be unloading packages on the horrendous 4am to 10am shift at a local shipping warehouse, but he's making his way to his dreams. Slowly breaking the trail that leads to a college education and that computer job he's been longing for. Or maybe that military career. Or any number of things he knows he can do.
And if he wasn't making enough progress he's lost about 60 lbs. over the last year. Is it just me or is this kid amazing? So I guess what I've been working up to is, yeah I'm proud of him. I've always known he would amount to something. I am overjoyed that he's finally seeing that too.
Monday, November 21, 2005
A tough realization...
Well Tori is all fixed up, home safely, and has pretty new brake lights to show for it. They tell me she was a good girl too. Mommy is so proud. :P
In other news……
After talking to a friend tonight I was struck by the thought that everyone has their own version of the truth. We truly do hear what we want to hear and see what we want to see. It’s more than just how we interpret someone’s tone of voice or facial expression. It’s also about how our brains or maybe our hearts fool us.
I think we usually only get one of two kinds of filters. Most of us hear only bad things or only good things. Or maybe we have different filters for different things.
I tend to see the good in people. I think everyone has a good motive and that they don’t mean anyone any harm. I don’t have the same view of myself. I only hear the bad things about myself.
I’m fat. Ugly. Lazy. Stupid. Untalented. Unlovable. Irresponsible. Unworthy. Too much trouble. And did I mention fat?
The only way to get through my filter is perseverance. Thankfully, I have several friends and loved ones with a LOT of perseverance. Or maybe they are just stubborn. No. Not MY friends. :P
But this realization isn’t really about me. It’s about my friend. It’s about trying to get through to someone who isn’t hearing the same thing that someone else is saying. It’s about how you can help them hear the real truth. And it’s about how that truth might hurt them, but still be better for them in the long run.
No two people’s definition of love is the same, but sometimes two people’s definitions can be so different that they aren’t even in the same universe. In those cases you have to hurt someone to help them. Even if it makes you feel like a bitch. Because if being a bitch can help someone move on and one day be happy then you have to do it, right?
So why is there an ache in my chest and tears in my eyes? I guess I’m not very good at being a bitch and tonight that’s not a good thing.
In other news……
After talking to a friend tonight I was struck by the thought that everyone has their own version of the truth. We truly do hear what we want to hear and see what we want to see. It’s more than just how we interpret someone’s tone of voice or facial expression. It’s also about how our brains or maybe our hearts fool us.
I think we usually only get one of two kinds of filters. Most of us hear only bad things or only good things. Or maybe we have different filters for different things.
I tend to see the good in people. I think everyone has a good motive and that they don’t mean anyone any harm. I don’t have the same view of myself. I only hear the bad things about myself.
I’m fat. Ugly. Lazy. Stupid. Untalented. Unlovable. Irresponsible. Unworthy. Too much trouble. And did I mention fat?
The only way to get through my filter is perseverance. Thankfully, I have several friends and loved ones with a LOT of perseverance. Or maybe they are just stubborn. No. Not MY friends. :P
But this realization isn’t really about me. It’s about my friend. It’s about trying to get through to someone who isn’t hearing the same thing that someone else is saying. It’s about how you can help them hear the real truth. And it’s about how that truth might hurt them, but still be better for them in the long run.
No two people’s definition of love is the same, but sometimes two people’s definitions can be so different that they aren’t even in the same universe. In those cases you have to hurt someone to help them. Even if it makes you feel like a bitch. Because if being a bitch can help someone move on and one day be happy then you have to do it, right?
So why is there an ache in my chest and tears in my eyes? I guess I’m not very good at being a bitch and tonight that’s not a good thing.
Modus Operandi
I've owned my car for nearly two and a half years now. She's not much, but she's mine. Her name is Tori and she's spiffy. Yup, I said spiffy.
She's a "future fuel vehicle" which means she can run on ethanol. Not that a city girl like me has a clue where you find that. I won't even stop at a gas pump without a debit/credit card reader.
The reason I mention Tori is that today I have to take her to a local dealership for some recall repairs. I'll have to drop her off and she'll stay all day. And I have to admit that I'm not entirely comfortable with that. She had a few major repairs months ago and was away from me for a week. And although that bothered me it was overshadowed by the stress of the whole ordeal.
So I'm feeling a bit like I'm dropping her off at her first day of school. I know it's silly and a car could never mean as much to me as a child. Yet here I am, worried. Silly, huh?
Well I'd better run. I've got to leave early to drop Tori off. I hope she doesn't pout. :P
She's a "future fuel vehicle" which means she can run on ethanol. Not that a city girl like me has a clue where you find that. I won't even stop at a gas pump without a debit/credit card reader.
The reason I mention Tori is that today I have to take her to a local dealership for some recall repairs. I'll have to drop her off and she'll stay all day. And I have to admit that I'm not entirely comfortable with that. She had a few major repairs months ago and was away from me for a week. And although that bothered me it was overshadowed by the stress of the whole ordeal.
So I'm feeling a bit like I'm dropping her off at her first day of school. I know it's silly and a car could never mean as much to me as a child. Yet here I am, worried. Silly, huh?
Well I'd better run. I've got to leave early to drop Tori off. I hope she doesn't pout. :P
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Um yeah...
It's only day two of blogging and already I'm falling behind. That doesn't bode well. :P
I'm more intimidated by the blankness of this little screen than I thought I would be. There is just something about the whiteness and the emptiness that chases the words right out of my head. I'm trying to work through it.
So here's what's going on with me...
I'm finding myself wishing for the next three days to pass quickly. Like a school girl waiting for a holiday or looking forward to vacation, I find myself unable to sleep. As if I'm waiting for Santa to come. But that's the wrong holiday, isn't it?
So who could I be awaiting the arrival of? My best friend.
Like any good girlie-girl I've cleaned the apartment and bought groceries. The cupboards, fridge, & linen closet are stocked. And I can't stop smiling.
You'd think it was Christmas. But no, it's Thanksgiving. And I have a LOT to be thankful for.
I'm more intimidated by the blankness of this little screen than I thought I would be. There is just something about the whiteness and the emptiness that chases the words right out of my head. I'm trying to work through it.
So here's what's going on with me...
I'm finding myself wishing for the next three days to pass quickly. Like a school girl waiting for a holiday or looking forward to vacation, I find myself unable to sleep. As if I'm waiting for Santa to come. But that's the wrong holiday, isn't it?
So who could I be awaiting the arrival of? My best friend.
Like any good girlie-girl I've cleaned the apartment and bought groceries. The cupboards, fridge, & linen closet are stocked. And I can't stop smiling.
You'd think it was Christmas. But no, it's Thanksgiving. And I have a LOT to be thankful for.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
A bit about me...
I'm not really a princess. I just play one on TV.
Truthfully I just play one in my fantasy of how my life SHOULD be. Reality is not so kind. :P
I will attempt to record daily updates of my entirely boring life. You can expect anything from random observations to new additions on the running soundtrack to my life.
Any comments are appreciated. Just go easy. LadyBugs are sensitive creatures. :)
Thanks for visiting!
Truthfully I just play one in my fantasy of how my life SHOULD be. Reality is not so kind. :P
I will attempt to record daily updates of my entirely boring life. You can expect anything from random observations to new additions on the running soundtrack to my life.
Any comments are appreciated. Just go easy. LadyBugs are sensitive creatures. :)
Thanks for visiting!
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