Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of thirty......

I wonder what Robert Frost would have said about a woman of thirty-nine. Hopefully something equally as kind.

Last week I turned thirty-nine and I was astounded by the fact that it feels absolutely no different than thirty-eight. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't this. However, I was quite grateful that this year's birthday found me in much better health and far less pain that last year's birthday.

It's been a rather crazy week at work. I got a new boss on Monday. She seems very nice, but after having the same boss for nearly three years it feels very strange. We have a big event coming up in less than two weeks and one of our team members is leaving after the event is over. It's a lot all at once.

On Friday the new boss decided that she would take us all out to lunch to celebrate my birthday, her new job, our team member leaving to go back to school, and the fourth member of our team surviving all the change. :) Our event coming up will be held at the new and fabulous Hotel ZaZa. So that is where we went to lunch.

The food was wonderful and the darling man that manages the place treated us to Strawberries Romanov and Champagne for dessert. Thanks again, Kleibert! Then we took a tour of the hotel. And I was taking pictures like a tourist. Keep in mind these are taken with my camera phone. It makes a MUCH better phone than it does a camera. :P

In the back of the very funky lobby, there is a fountain. On one side is the wooden sculpture on the left complete with stuffed peacocks.










On the other side is the woman on the right. The fountain itself is full of blue lights, river rocks in blues and grays, and white pillar candles that seem to just float on the water. The only movement of in the water is a constant rippling effect. It's strange, but quite interesting.

The entire hotel is decorated in an almost surrealist style. Most of the furniture is over-sized and just downright funky. These two pictures are the front and back of the same chair. Most of the art in place has a similar theme.












A human's body with an animal's head. There was a very large painting of a little girl with a lamb's head walking a lion on a leash. Very odd, but also beautiful.














In the basement there is a room call the Conspiracy Room. It's decorated in a cross between The Sopranos & Goth. The coffin on the left was actually the coffee table in front of the biggest red, tufted Victorian sofa I have ever seen.











The sign on the right hangs nearby. Sometimes the rules are just no fun at all. Do you think there was a lot of coffin dancing before they hung this sign?






It was definitely the most interesting lunch I've ever been treated to. I can't wait to go back. Although next time I'm there I'll be working. But I do hope to get better pictures. :)

If you'd like a better look at the pictures I did take they are posted on My Flickr Page.

And if you're ever in town, be sure to check out the Hotel Zaza. It's definitely worth a look around.

Well it's not Saturday but...

Here's a new poem.


prey

unable to harden her heart
she became his prey
with kindness and care
he had his way
ruthlessly he took over
ruling even her heart
showering her with love
until they couldn’t be apart
filling every corner
her life became his
just for the taking
for only a kiss
forever to be linked
one body, mind, and soul
no longer individuals
mere pieces of a whole
her innocence lingers
on his tongue like wine
her sweet, southern voice
still haunts his mind
he started as hunter
but became her prey
he just didn’t know it
until she walked away




Now don't be shy. Tell me what you think. I'm tough. I can take it. :)

For Those About To Rock......

Better late than never...

Ladies & Gentlemen, welcome to another edition of "My Best Friend Makes the World's Best Travel CD's and I'm the Lucky Girl That Gets to Keep Them!". It's good to be the Princess and get to make the rules. :)

That's right. My best friend, Dave (Cleggy), came down to visit and as per our usual arrangement he worked his butt off making Travel & Mix CD's and all I had to do was listen to them and keep them. Right now you're thinking, "Dude! That's a sweet deal. How can I get in on it?" You can't so just back off buddy! He's my best friend. :P

Anyway, I drove up on Thursday morning before Memorial Day and spent a few hours with Wendy Darling & their Mom. After he got off work and we ran a few errands, Dave & I headed towards Houston. And so began the festivities. More than four days full of music, movies, laughter, and random trips to Big Lots.

We saw some good movies (GODSPELL, PAN'S LABYRINTH) and we saw some bad movies (AEON FLUX, DAWN). We listened to a lot of great music thanks to Dave. And we got caught out in the rain more than once.

There was no real schedule, but we had planned to do all of our running around on Friday to get it over with. We'd also decided on no random trips to save on gas since it's nearly $3 a gallon. Having said that I probably shouldn't mention that we made more than one trip to Big Lots, went to Pasadena & Humble just to go to a bookstore, and enjoyed every minute of it.

Hopefully we squeezed enough fun in to last us a while because we don't get to see each other all that often. Although I did just get back from a weekend trip up there. But that's another blog. :P



Anyway, thanks again Dave! Not just for the CD's, but for a GREAT visit. Ya'll come back now, ya hear! :P

Close Encounters of the Prepubescent Kind…

I’ll admit it. I should have listened to my sister when I went out for food yesterday. She told me to go to Sonic. Her reasoning was that she was craving it. This reasoning only becomes funny when you know that we live four hours apart. Never let it be said I’m not a good sister, so it was to Sonic I was headed.

I'm going up the road towards Sonic and I see Jack in the Box across the street and suddenly Jack is calling my name. They have this new burger that I just love. I’ll spend a couple dollars more, but don't you always with Jack? So I change my destination and three lanes. What? I used a blinker.

This burger is mega customized so they always make me pull around front. Gotta keep those drive thru numbers low so the district manager who has never set foot in the store can keep his monthly bonus. But I digress.

So I'm sitting in the front and these two teenagers come out to smoke. I am pretty sure they aren't even old enough to have bought the cigarettes they are smoking. Then the chick's phone rings and it's her mom. She's telling her where she is and why. The usual check in kind of conversation so I know my age assessment is correct.

I knew for sure she was just a kid and the guy with her couldn’t be any older. I mean he looked like he didn't know what a razor was let alone have ever used one. Anyway, to kill time I whip out my book because a good geek always has a book. And I’m a damn good geek.

I’m reading a “Buffy The Vampire Slayer” book from the library and I’m really into it. I AM the slayer, you know? When this kid starts sliding over towards my car. I can see him out the corner of my eye and I’m thinking to myself that he either needs burping or wants to borrow five bucks for candy. The chick with him isn’t looking happy and she's trying to get her mom to let her go because she's got some SERIOUS puppy love crush thing going on this guy.

I can see it. He’s not bad. Spiked two-tone hair, tie dyed shirt, and that "I’m the playa" confidence. So he gets close to my car and I lower my book to smile at him. He gives me the "sup" nod and says, "Hey baby, what's your name?"

I’m so shocked that my mind goes blank. All I can think is, “My name is 'I’m old enough to have given birth to your still in puberty ass'.” I give him the slow blink and I’m trying to figure out where Ashton and the cameras are because I just KNOW I’m getting punked.

It has to be that because I’m sweaty and dirty from cleaning all day. My hair needs washing in a serious way. I’ve got the old white 'show a movie on my fat ass' shorts on and a t-shirt with a stain. I am not styling here.

So I’m still blinking at him and the geek girl in me is thinking, "Dude I am soooo blogging about this shit!". Puppy love chick is fuming and trying like hell to ditch her mom. With the smoothness that can only come from age I say, "Huh?"

Baby Mac-daddy kneels down and says, "You have a pretty smile. What’s your name?" and I blushed. Yup, I said blushed. Go ahead and laugh. My sister did when I told her this story after I got home. Laughed and begged me to blog about it. Now you know who to blame for this. And, T, thanks for the title! :)

Anyway, I look up and he's got these AMAZING blue eyes and I’m thinking, "Wow! God has a demented sense of humor!" When I finally remember how to speak, I say, "My name is Cheri and you're sweet but I’m old enough to be your mother." Then I add, "And I think your girlfriend is getting quite angry”

He says, "My name's Damon, she's not my girlfriend, and you couldn't possibly be old enough to be my mother." (Insert suave smile beyond his years here.) "You can't be older than 25."

It took ALL my strength to not laugh in his cute little face. I smile back at him and say, "That's also very sweet of you to say, but the truth is that I’ll be 39 in just over a month."

Here’s the quick slide show of emotions that cross his face – disbelief, horror, sadness, then elation. And I’m confused. That last one got me.

So he says, "Well I always wanted to go out with an older woman. I just hadn't decided how much older until now."

I’m freaking because I was expecting him to say he just decided that 39 was just too damn old, but then he leans just a bit further in the window, licks his lips, pulls out that suave smile again, and says, "So can I have your digits?"

My first thought was to say, “I was just about to give him my phone number when he called it digits. Who says shit like that?!” I haven’t heard that in years, but apparently it's making a comeback with our mislead youth. Frankly I was just happy that his pants were around his waist and not below his ass.

My brain is working overtime to think of a graceful way to tell him no when the Jack in the Box employee saved me by bring my food. I told him I had to go and watched as puppy love chick all but leapt into his arms as she hung up her phone.

He says, "Maybe I’ll see you around, gorgeous." And in true Fat Girl fashion, all I can think is that I can never go to Jack in the Box again. Well at least not that one. As I was pulling out I heard puppy love chick say, "But you're not even 18 yet!"

I’m still in shock. :P

Spring Has Sprung...

Several years ago, my Mom & Pops moved from Texas to West Virginia. My Pops' family is from Maryland, near the West Virginia border. They've been together for nearly 24 years and for most of that time they have lived down here in Texas near my Mommy's family. So it was Pops turn.

I haven't seen either of them since they moved because I never seem to have enough money for airfare. I miss them very much and I know that they miss me too. Especially my Mommy. This is the farthest apart we've ever been. I know she also misses her home state. Her body might reside in West Virginia, but her heart will always be in Texas.

So this post is for my Mommy.

Texas misses you too, Mommy. But not nearly as much as I do. I love you guys!








Indian Painbrushes outside the library. I looked for Bluebonnets, Mommy, but I haven't seen them yet.



My Mommy loves Wal-Mart and flowers. So you know she's happy when Wal-Mart puts out their "babies" as she calls them. They've been very busy for the last couple of weeks in the garden department.
























Come visit soon, Mommy. The whole state misses you! :) I love you bunches!!!

What I Do On Sunday...

Last night a new blog-friend of mine and I were talking about the purpose of a blog. I confess that my blog has no actual purpose. A bit like the lavender bunny that hangs from my rearview mirror in my car. It’s cute and I like it, but it has no discernible purpose. Frank (my new friend) suggested that I should use my blog to tell people about my day-to-day life.

While struggling not to laugh, I explained to him that my life was really not interesting enough for that. On a good day, tales of my ultra-boring life could be substituted for Ambien, Lunesta, or any other prescription sleep medication. On a slow day, it could be used as anesthesia for major surgery. Trust me on this because I have certainly bored myself into unconsciousness on more than one occasion.

Not being one to militantly defend a position without first testing the validity of it, I agreed to give it a try as often as I could find time. Actually, if the truth were known, Frank tricked me into it. The force is strong with him and his logic-fu verbally decimated mine. :P

So without further ado, but with many apologies to Steve Burns for the thinly veiled, yet skewed reference to his great music, I present What I Do On Sunday.




I briefly open my eyes about 7am and curse the fact that it is still dark outside then realize it is Sunday and curse the fact that I'm awake when I could be sleeping in. With determination I roll over and attempt to return to dreamland on an express ticket. Two hours later, I wake for the second time today, squint at the clock, do the daylight savings math since I forgot to change the clock the night before, and crawl out of bed.

Knowing I need to do laundry, I slip into “Woman with a Mission” mode and begin gathering dirty clothes before I’ve even gotten dressed. In record time I have clean clothes on my body, dirty clothes in the hamper, and all of them loaded into my car. With a quick stop for breakfast, I head to the laundry mat.

Once my clothes are sloshing in their chosen machine, I make myself as comfortable as possible on the plastic chairs that could double as implements of torture and pull out the book I’m currently reading. While reading I begin getting more supporting evidence for a recently devised hypothesis. Apparently I am like crack to the Pre-K set. During my two plus hours there, I am the focus of no less than three little ones. Lots of sweet smiles, gibberish ramblings that I couldn’t even begin to decipher, and shy, young mothers apologizing as they retrieve their offspring for the tenth time.

Leaving my diminutive entourage behind, I head out to my next errand. On my way there I am convinced that I am no longer going to hell in a hand basket as I previously thought, but I am in fact on the express train to that terminally tropical destination. Standing on the corner at a stoplight is a man wearing a bright yellow sandwich board. You know the kind that would normally say something like “Eat at Joe’s”. This one had an entirely different message to impart. In big blue letters on the above-mentioned bright yellow sign are these words. “Believe on Jesus. Read the King James Bible. Repent or Burn.” My first reaction is to pull over and correct the man’s grammar. Luckily I read further and recognize him for the zealot that he is.

Thus convinced that my afterlife plan includes a fiery location, I pull into Wal-Mart’s parking lot and head to their automotive entrance. I round the corner and am confronted with proof that I somehow missed the announcement that today is "National Have Your Oil Changed at Wal-Mart Day". I quickly do the math and realize that waiting for nearly three hours inside Wal-Mart will either drive me to bankruptcy or the brink of insanity. I consult my list of errands and head to the next place.

Office Depot is also a dangerous place for me. It’s like giving a drug addict the keys to the pharmacy. Office supplies are my crack. But I have a mission and a determination to stick my list. I enter ready to do battle like Captain Kirk stepping onto the bridge of the Enterprise. Except I am pretty sure I will not be having sex with blue alien at the end of the show nor will I lose the sixth man on my beam down crew.

With the quickness of a shopping ninja, I gather up my spoils of war and head to the register. Feeling victorious, I survey the contents of my basket while I wait my turn. I’ve scored 100 CD’s for $12.99 and I’m so stoked that I may break into a happy dance at any moment. Hey, life is short and you have to find joy where you can. In fact the joy inspired me to buy three spindles of CD’s. One for me, one for Dave (a.k.a. Cleggy), and one for Dave’s sisters & Mom. I considered buying one for my sister, but realized that shipping them would completely suck the joy out of the bargain price.

With a spring in my step, I practically skip out to my car and head over to a local restaurant that is selling shamrocks for the Muscular Dystrophy Association. So this stop is work related. With my new camera phone (Thank you again, Laslo & Queen B!), I take pictures of all the shamrocks they have sold so far and plan to put it in next week’s newsletter. I spend a few minutes chatting with servers, doing the general rah-rah thing, then return to my car and drive down three stores to my next destination. Yup, three whole stores. Deal with it. I’m a fat girl and I don’t walk if I don’t have to. Besides I’m paying for this vehicle, I need to get my money’s worth. At least that’s the rationalization I’m using today.

Cue light streaming from above and Handel’s “Messiah”. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are talking nirvana (not the grunge band, although I am a fan). Shoes that is, girlie gold, all for me. God bless the person who started Payless Shoes. They deserve to be canonized, immortalized, bronzed, and even laid. Nothing is too good for them. For the first time in nearly a year, I bought myself some shoes. And I went wild. I bought two pair and spent about $40. That’s right, folks, she’s living on the edge. Yeah right.

With my prized new shoes in their shiny bag, I return to my car, consult my errand list, and discover that I am done. With a small car dance of joy, I head home. Halfway there I realize that I am too tired to cook dinner so I gleefully turn into my favorite Chinese take out restaurant. After doing time in the drive through, I pull out of the parking lot and immediately turn into another one. This one belonging to Sonic. My goal is a soda.

You see I don’t like the sodas at the Chinese take out restaurant. They taste fishy to me. I don’t mean “fishy” as in suspicious. I mean “fishy” as in their soda dispenser & coy pond share a filter. On second thought, maybe that is suspicious. Especially since they really don’t have a coy pond. The drive through had to go somewhere, right?

So anyway, I get a large diet coke at Sonic and head for home again. What do you mean is that all I got? What else would I need after I just bought Chinese take out? I have NO idea how that banana pudding shake got into my car. Really.

To be honest, I needed that shake after dragging everything inside my apartment. It’s not often that I dislike being single. This is definitely one of those times. It would be nice to have someone else around to carry all my stuff. My own personal Sherpa. Not really a good reason for marriage, which is why I’m still single. At least that’s what I tell myself.

So that was my Sunday. I warned you it was boring. That should cure your insomnia, Frank. :P

Happy Valentine's Day

Okay, so I'm a little late, but cut me some slack. I've been sick. My lungs have become convinced that they would work better if they were on the outside of my body. But I digress.

Last year for Valentine's Day, a good friend sent me tulips and signed the card from "The Band". It was a very sweet gesture with a naughty little spin to make me laugh. This year, Violet Mistress didn't forget me. No sexy message this year. Just a heartfelt "All my love" and the most beautiful tulips I have ever seen. Even more lovely than last year's. See for yourself....




I've already thanked her several times, but I will say it again. Thank you, Betty, from the bottom of my very grateful heart for the tulips. For thinking of me. For loving me.



And until next year....

Happy VD, Everybody!!

:P

Do you think they meant to be this funny?

I just wanted to share the sign I saw a few weeks ago when I stopped for gas. I laughed so hard that I hurt. No wonder our electric bills are so high down here. :P

New Poetry Sunday?

I meant to post this yesterday, but actually forgot. :P

While I was out last year recovering from my surgery my boss was out bringing a new life into this world. On September 7, 2007 the newest and cutest member of our team was born. Avery has his daddy's blue eyes, his mommy's smile, and red hair that no one can explain. As a child I was a redhead, but as I got older my hair became more blonde. For years I've missed my red hair and wished for it back. So I told his parents to blame it on me. :)

Avery is one of the happiest babies I have ever met. He is always smiling and laughing. Even when he is sick. When I described him to my own mother she said that he sounded a lot like me. I can only hope to be that good-natured.

Thinking about him inspired this short poem. I hope he grows up to be an even happier man.



avery’s smile

his eyes sparkle
like liquid laughter
his face shines
brighter than the sun
his happy laughter
can give you joy
his gentle touch
will lift your heart
so much love inside
such a tiny package
but he only has to smile
to share it with the world

Good News At Last...

I saw my surgeon on Thursday for the wound from my surgery in June. Yes, I'm still under his care AND having a nurse coming out twice a week to change the dressing. At least I was. I am now officially...

FREE!!!

No more visits to the surgeon and no more visits from the nurses. The wound appears to finally be closed. Although there is a centimeter deep indentation where the last of the wound was. Tonight I showered for the first time since June 8, 2006 without a bandage of any kind over the wound. And I have no plans to put a bandage over it at all.

The only drawback at the moment is the sheer ugliness of the wound. Something I'm reminded of frequently since I can't seem to keep from pulling up my nightgown to look. The joke was that I was wounded in a sword fight. The scar is not evidence to the contrary. It really does look like a sword wound.

Oh well. I'm just happy to be alive. And bandage-free!

YaY me!!!

Still Drifting...

The chaos filled her head with white noise, trying to block out all other thoughts. If she couldn't think straight then the chaos could seduce her into doing what it wanted. If it couldn't have Mr. Destructive then maybe it could find someone even more unsuitable. Someone new to feed off of.

The best candidate lived next door to her. He was dark, mysterious, good looking, and had a steady stream of women in and out of his apartment daily. Best of all, she was already attracted to him. The chaos had caught her looking at the way his tight leather pants clung to his firm butt as he leaned across his motorcycle. Her thoughts that day had been delicious and the chaos had fed well.

So far she had held to her resolve to keep Mr. Destructive firmly in the friend catagory. The chaos had begun to despair that she would never feed it again. Then a random thought had slipped past her defenses. It was hardly even a thought to begin with, but the chaos had been waiting for just such a moment.

The white noise was just the first step. With seemingly innocent thoughts, the chaos could begin to move her in the direction it wanted. And if he stayed out of her bed long enough this time, maybe it could get a firmer hold on her life. He had hurt her worse this time and the chaos was benefitting from that pain. Her relatively calm exterior was masking a deep chasm full of pain. The chaos was nearly giddy with excitement over the possibilities that chasm would provide.

Drifting...

She put on the headphones, slipped the CD into the player, and turned the sound up as loud as she could stand. She didn't want to think so she chose the music with care. Something loud, driven, and mind-scrubbing. With a bit of luck the aggressive attack of music on her eardrums would keep the thoughts at bay.

The last time he had drifted from her bed she'd been devastated at first and then she'd been angry. It had been too easy for the chaos to take over her life. With almost no convincing she'd gone out and found the single most unsuitable man she could find. Mr. Destructive had been too young, too crude, and the owner of a huge mean streak. Love's polar opposite in every way.

Mr. Destructive showed her little to no respect, had a violent temper, and was more self-centered than a black hole. The chaos couldn't get enough of him. Their fights were legendary and the sex was exciting. But it wasn't love. She had tried to pretend it was. The chaos had tried to convince her it was. But her heart hadn't been fooled.

She had come to her senses just over a year later. Mr. Destructive had been firmly moved into the friend category and she'd worked hard to push the chaos back out of her life. Shortly after that he had drifted back into her bed.

This time she was working hard to ignore the siren call of the chaos. Mr. Destructive was still in her life and the chaos thought he was a good candidate, but luckily her head was still in charge. She wondered how long that would remain true. She wondered how long it would be before he drifted back into her bed this time. Mostly she wondered if he suspected where she drifted to when he was gone.

Relationship Guide?

I have friends and family that are in just about every stage of a relationship possible. Although I am single, I seem to be the one that my friends and family talk to about their relationships. Sometimes they ask me for advice or need to vent, but sometimes it's just to share. Sometimes it's girlfriends, but there are also guy friends that seek me out. I am by no means a relationship expert. Some would say the fact that I'm not in one now and haven't been in one for years proves that I don't know anything about relationships. That may be true. But it doesn't change the fact that people come to me often.

I've been thinking about this for a couple of days now and a few ideas have been swirling around in my head. No one ever really teaches us how to have a good relationship. Most of us try to learn by example or learn from trial and error. If you are a child of divorce like myself then learning by example can be difficult. Not that my mother doesn't know how to have a good relationship. It just took her three tries to get it right.

The impetus for those swirling ideas came from a young friend's request for a "guide" to relationships. I laughed at first. Who was I to give anyone advice about anything? Especially considering the mess that my life seems to constantly be in. Then that young friend reminded me that of all the people he knew, I was the happiest. I can't take complete credit for that. I'm genetically perky. Although I'm not sure how that is possible since neither of my parents are of the particularly perky variety. Nevertheless, I am decidedly perky. But I am also happy most of the time.

So in an effort to help some of my friends, I thought I could at least give it some thought. Maybe mention a few guidelines. The kind of things that you think everyone should already know and probably do, but maybe they don't give them the kind of thought they deserve.

1. Communication.
I wasn't going to number this list like it was some sort of school lesson, but I honestly do believe that communication is the number one rule/guideline/requirement for any relationship. And by "any" I do mean any, not just dating or marriage. While there are some people in this world that are blessed with the ability to read people's thoughts or emotions, chances are you are not in a relationship with one who is. Don't make them guess because this isn't a game. Your heart is not a prize on Jeopardy. If you feel strongly enough about something to talk to your girlfriends or you guy friends about it, then you need to share that with the one you love. Don't assume they know you well enough to know how you feel. Often that is not the case. Now that doesn't mean they don't love you. It just means they are not psychic or empathic. The reverse side of that is you should encourage them to come to you and do the same.

2. Honesty.
I know that one seems like a given, but you'd be surprised. Don't say things are all right if they aren't. Don't pretend you're fine if you're not. If something bothers you, speak up. If something inspires you, speak up. If something excites you, speak up. And if you don't know what is wrong then be honest about that too. Humans are very complex creatures. Our emotions/feelings/moods are often connected to our physical states. Sometimes just being hungry can put you in a bad mood. And almost any woman out there can tell you that sometimes being angry/upset/sad can make you think you're hungry. So be aware of what is going on in your mind, body, soul, and environment. It's all connected. Be honest with yourself. Be honest with your loved ones. Heck, be honest with everyone you know. It just makes like easier.

3. Respect.
The Golden Rule DOES apply to life after kindergarten or Sunday school. Be aware of what you say and how you treat others. Ask yourself how you would feel is someone said or did that to you. If you would have a negative response then chances are they would too. This should apply to everyone that you encounter in your life, but especially to those you love. If you love them enough to want to protect them then make sure you protect them from yourself as well. And if they love you then they should do the same for you. If you're not sure how you and your loved one are doing in that area, your friends might be able to give you a clue. If they think he/she is the best thing that ever happened to you and that you're lucky then chances are it's true. You should treat them as if that is true. If your friends think that your loved one doesn't treat you well then you might need to take a closer look at how much respect they are giving you. You should never allow someone to give you less respect than you deserve. No one is put on this Earth to be subservient to anyone. Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you are.

4. Love and affection.
I cannot stress enough how important it is to share how you feel about someone as often as you can. Say it often. Show it often. This is the area that my guy friends ask me for advice in the most. I hear from friends of both sexes that the opposite sex is either too simple or too hard to figure out. Here's the thing people, everyone is different. I know some guys that are extremely easy to please and I know some that you couldn't please with every resource in the world open to you. And I know just as many women in both categories. But most of us are somewhere in the middle. Knowing the person you love is the key to pleasing them. Don't do things with or for them that will make you happy. Do things with or for them that will make them happy. If she prefers roses, white wine, and moonlit beaches, don't buy her edible underwear, a six pack of cheap beer, and take her to a wrestling match. If he prefers steak, brew pubs, and action movies, don't drag him to a poetry reading and a vegetarian tea party. Guys, open doors for her. Girls, let him open door for you without a fuss. Girls, don't pretend you only eat salad and watch emotional, foreign films. Guys, don't assume we only eat salad and watch emotional, foreign films. It comes back to being honest. Girls, if you want to go see a "chick flick" then tell him. Guys, if you want to go have a big steak and cold beer then tell her. Do both and then the next night eat where she wants to and go check out that action flick with 18 car chases. You're both in this relationship so you both should participate in it. Compromise and you'll both be happy. Just keep in mind that no one is happy all the time. You're both going to have good days and bad days. But will a little tender loving care you'll have far more good ones than bad ones.



"Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins." I Peter 4:8

New Poetry...

I know it's not Saturday, but it's my blog and my poetry and I'll post it when I want to. :P


flame

one says that some of my love
is better than none at all
that it is just far too late
to try and break his fall
one begs me every day
for another second chance
but my heart isn’t in
that same old song and dance
every beat of my heart
whispers someone else’s name
like a spark to an ember
re-igniting an old flame
my thoughts drifting back
to when he was near
how i wanted to speak
but didn’t out of fear
frightened that my feelings
would rush out of me
driving him far away
making us never to be
the feel of his arms
the colour of his eyes
the tenderness of his touch
the happiness in his sighs
he fills my thoughts
he warms my heart
he stirs my soul
he has from the start
no one else exists for me
my world contains only two
it will forever be this way
because love is always true

Gratitude Sundays - Part IV...

I am continually thankful for...

WendyDarling, Cleggy, & their family for treating me like family and letting me share their holiday and home.

Surviving my first weeks back at work.

Spending some quiet time with my best friend, Cleggy.  Thanks to him I was able to relax and vent enough to begin dealing with having survived my year from hell.

All my online friends.

Gratitude Sundays - Part III...

By now hopefully there are no explanations needed so here is my third entry for "Gratitude Sundays"...




I am continually thankful for...

God, my family, & friends - you know, the usual suspects. :)

To finally have gone back to work last Monday and that the wonderful people I work with are excited to have me back.

The internet that provides a place for me to share my thoughts, emotions, and writing with the world through my blog. And that so many of my family and friends read it.

A doctor that is so passionate about my health that he calls me personally to give me important test results. Perceptive enough to know why it will be months before I can even think about another surgery. And patient enough to answer all of my questions even when the waiting room is full and the office is running two doctors short.

An "adopted" family (Thank you again, Cleggy & WendyDarling!) to visit for the holidays so that I don't have to be alone.

Gratitude Sundays - Part II...

Again I urge everyone out there to take part in this. It truly is uplifting. So much so that I don't think I will stop after Thanksgiving. What can I say? I have a lot to be thankful for.

So without further ado here is my second entry for "Gratitude Sundays"...




I am continually thankful for...

God, my family, & friends.

Medical technology that allows doctors to look inside our bodies without need to use invasive methods like surgery.

My God-given talents that allow me to express myself in ways that can relieve my stress and share my feelings.

For the internet that allows me to keep in touch and even grow closer to loved ones both nearby and far away.

Public Libraries. Not only for giving us access to books, videos, & DVD's that we wouldn't otherwise have access to but also for their continuing contributions to the community through reading programs, knowledge building classes, information, and dedication.

Gratitude Sundays...

For about six years now I've belonged to an online group for plus-sized women. These women are like family to me and have greatly enriched my life. Our moderator started "Gratitude Sundays" for the month of November last year. This year I am so excited by this weekly chance to examine all the wonderful parts of my life that I wanted to extend it to my blog. I encourage everyone that reads this to participate. It truly is uplifting.

So without further ado here is my first entry for "Gratitude Sundays"...



I am continually thankful for...

God's presence in my life that keeps me safe, healthy, happy, sane, & inspired.

My loving family & friends especially those who touch my life on a daily basis - Cleggy, WendyDarling (& their family), Margo, KwizGiver, Violet Mistress, Maria, my brother, my sister (& her gorgeous children), & all FOUR of my parents - Mommy, Pops, Dad, & Joan.

All the well-trained, talented, & caring medical personnel that are helping me on my road to healing my battered, but unbowed body especially my nurse and new friend, Liz, who comes to my house & cares not only for my physical wounds but my emotional ones as well, my dilligent & determined surgeon, Dr. Fairweather, whose sense of humor & sweet staff have made a nightmare into something I can bear, and my celebrated & famous liver specialist, Dr. Le Sage, whose bedside manner & passion makes me hopeful & confident of a long, full life.

The unknown person who made that unselfish decision to give the blood that saved my life in June. There are no words that can express how grateful I truly am.

The wonderful people of the Muscular Dystrophy Association who are very patiently waiting for my return to work & have never once complained when the planned one week off for my surgery turned into five months.

Although I already mentioned him, he deserves to be mentioned twice - Cleggy, for allowing me to lean on him more heavily than ever as I struggle to come to terms with all the changes & stress in my life. His twisted sense of humor never fails to make me smile or laugh even through the tears.

Happy Belated Birthday, Tammy!

A while ago I was out and heard the song "My Sister" by Reba McEntire and it made me think of you. Then I raced to the car to write down the poem that started rushing through my head. Need I mention that I was actually in the bathroom when I heard it? Or that by "raced" I mean waddled? Of course not. :P

So my goal was to work the kinks out of the poem and have it ready by your birthday. Yeah right. So here we are six days after your birthday and I've finally beat it into submission and posted it. And I even learned how to post the song that went with it. Somehow I think maybe I'm getting more out of this gift than you are. Hope you enjoy it anyway. :P



a sisters story

staying up talking until three
jokes between just you and me
so much laughter and so many tears
we wouldn’t trade even one of our years
making wishes and sharing secrets
easing sorrows and lightening regrets
fought and made up like siblings should
grew up together long past childhood
but that’s not where our story ends
we started as sisters and became friends



My Sister by Reba McEnitre

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered...

He could tell the moment she entered the room, but he refused to look up. He was too busy trying to convince himself that he was too old to be this affected by a total stranger. Every night for over a week she'd come in with an alternating group of people. And every night for over a week his eyes were constantly drawn to her.

He had memorized the way the light glinted off of her golden hair. The way her deep blue eyes flashed when the the discussion became heated. The brightness of her smile and the quickness of her laughter. The richness of her voice as she warmed to the conversation. The passion on her face as she leaned forward to make a point.

Too late he realized that he was staring at her yet again. His hungry eyes roaming over the vast whiteness of her skin and laying claim to all he could see as if he had a right to it. Like a drowning man trying to stay above water he tore his eyes away from the soft hint of the hollow between her breasts only to find her looking right at him.

His embarrassment nearly made him miss the challenge in her eyes as she slid her hair off her shoulder and leaned further forward. When she slowly wet her soft pink lips he thought his heart was going to stop beating. Before he could stop himself he licked his own lips and watched her deep blue eyes follow the movement with interest. He swallowed so hard he was sure she could hear it. Now that she had noticed him he couldn't think clearly.

He felt himself falling into her electric blue eyes. The world around him shifted into nothingness and the din of the room became white noise. The only sound to make itself heard above the beating of his heart was the beating of hers. Then he heard her inhale deeply. Was it his imagination or did she just breathe his name?

Suddenly the world around him clicked back into place. Of course she hadn't said his name. She didn't even know his name and he didn't know hers. She was talking to her friends again as if nothing had happened and he began to doubt his sanity. She wasn't even aware he existed.

Disgusted with himself he gathered his things and headed to the door. Mentally shaking himself he decided that tomorrow night he would go somewhere else after work to unwind. He reached the door then turned to hold it open for the group of women behind him. Preoccupied with his own thoughts, he smiled vacantly as each woman thanked him as she passed.

"Thank you, William." Her sweet voice brought him back to the present. "See you tomorrow," she said with a smile. Before he could think of a reply, she had already disappeared around the corner. Her warm, liquid laughter floated back towards him and wiped all thoughts of going somewhere else from his mind. Of course he'd be back tomorrow. He smiled with anticipation and followed her into the night.

Trick or Treat?

I miss the Halloweens of my childhood. As I drove this evening I kept looking for any signs of it, but alas all I saw were stressed, impatient adults trying to get home or to a party. I kept waiting to see groups of children dressed up with bags in hand only to be disappointed. Still I long to see...

Yoda walking hand in hand with a ghost while Wonder Woman gleefully lists the contents of her bag. Knowing they were safe because Superman, Spiderman, and Batman were following close behind them. A ninja happily dragging at tiny angel behind him steadily reminding her to hold tight to her plastic pumpkin quickly filling with treats. Han Solo joins a witch with a green face, striped stockings, and a shy laugh. They both wave to Glenda the Good Witch crossing the street with a curly-headed pumpkin waddling slowly next to her. She bends to reassure him that black cats that are at least three feet tall and answering to the name of Melissa don't eat baby pumpkins. Sweet hobgoblins with the musical voices of elves haunting the streets of my memory.

Oh to be a child again and feel the warm trusting hand of my baby brother held lovingly in mine. To see his bright, freckled face smiling up at me as he begs me to take him to "just one more house, Sissy". To sit cross-legged and red-faced in the middle of the floor and pile our candy up together because it never occurred to us not to share. Dividing it into piles so we could share it with Mommy, Grammy, & Papa. A non-stop commentary of who we saw and who scared us delighting them as they waiting patiently for our sugar highs to gradually fade.

To be safely tucked into bed as Mommy kisses our foreheads. The taste of hot cocoa with marshmallows still on our tongues. Slowly drifting off to sleep while my baby brother asks if we can do it all again tomorrow. Knowing we'll have to wait a whole year but glad to have the memories that will last at least that long.


Happy All Hallow's Eve! May all your bags be filled with life's sweetest treats!

Dear George...

Please ignore the crazy rantings of that woman from Maine. While she's trying to warm up, I'll show you a hot time like only a southern belle can. Trust me, baby, you'll never look back.

XXXOOO



P.S. Don't worry. Maine is very far away from Texas so you'll be safe with me.

There are millions of people in worlds of their own...

Today was laundry day. I gathered up my dirty clothes, a book/crochet project, and my quarters. I loaded it all in to my car and headed out before 11 this morning, hoping to beat the crowd that always starts building around noon. Of course I had my light jacket on because since the surgery I tend to be colder than I am normally. I didn't pay attention to the weather at all. I just wanted to get it over with and home again.

Flash forward about two hours and I'm loading my now clean clothes back into my car. Suddenly the weather catches my attention and I realize the rarity of it in Houston. It's about 68 degrees (Fahrenheit of course), only 40% humidity (I say "only" because frequently it's 100% humidity here and NOT raining), there is a cool breeze blowing, AND the sun is shining. Can you say beautiful weather?

My first choice on how to celebrate this extremely rare and lovely day was a picnic. Alas, not only do I not have the money to buy what I'd need for a picnic lunch or a place to have a picnic, but I don't have anyone nearby to join me. So as an alternative I decide to take the scenic route home.

I roll down all the windows, open the sunroof, and crank the radio. My favorite Barenaked Ladies album is in the CD player ("Maybe You Should Drive" for anyone that is curious). I'm singing along loudly as I feel the fresh air rushing at me from all sides. People are staring at stoplights, but I don't care. It's not environmentally responsible of me to be driving around just for the hell of it, but again I don't care. I think the almost Zen state I'm achieving is more important than what little damage I might be doing to the environment.

All too soon my responsible side manages to finally be heard over the music and rushing air. With a sigh, I turn back towards home. What I would really like to do is head south towards the beach, spend a few hours soaking up some salt air, and read. But I know that I'm really not in good enough shape to make the nearly three-hour roundtrip drive and the walk to find a good spot to read. So it's back home for me.

Still it was a great drive filled with fresh air and fabulous music. Sometimes it's really good to live in Texas. :)

Someone Somewhere Has Unglued Our Epoxy...

The last 4+ months have been a test in patience and strength that I'm not sure I'm passing. This time five months ago I was independent, working a full-time job, paying my bills with relative ease, and looking forward to my upcoming birthday. Things look quite a bit different at this point in my life.

Don't get me wrong. I am so very grateful to everyone for all of their help. I wouldn't have made it through one single day of this ordeal without a very long list of loving family and friends. I don't know how I will ever repay them all or find a way to express just how grateful I am.

I'm still independent, more so now that I can actually take care of myself. My Dad and my Stepmom did most of the taking care of me for the first three months. I still have a full-time job, but I haven't put in even one hour of work since I had surgery at the beginning of June. I'm receiving short-term disability insurance, but since it amounts to about half of my regular pay financially I'm struggling. So much so that my Mom and Pops had to send me enough money to make my car note this month. As for my birthday, it passed in a pain-induced haze almost as if it was just another day.

Right now I'm overwhelmed, overwrought, overstressed, and overemotional. Not a real good combination for healing. I'm also eating Tylenol like it's Pez because my surgery wound is hurting and I don't want to take a pain pill. It's been a pretty rough weekend and I seem to be about five seconds away from crying all the time these days.

I've been trying to shake the feeling that I need to break down and fall apart so that I can try and put the pieces back together again. I'd like to curl up into a ball and cry until I don't have any tears left but I'm afraid if I start that I'll never stop. There are so many things I need to come to terms with but I don't have the time or the energy to do it.

Okay the drama queen is going to shut up now because I for one am sick to death of hearing me complain. Not really the update that was requested, but the best I could do at the moment. Thanks for reading!

Testing, Testing...

Over the last few days I've been posting some very short stories. I want to thank everyone that gave me feedback on them. It is always greatly appreciated.

I've been making up stories for as long as I can remember. I would tell them to my baby brother. I would tell them to my Grammy. I would tell them to my dolls. I'd even tell them to the family dog if he'd sit still long enough.

Then one day I began to write them down. And about that time I stopped sharing them too.

My family expected me to get married and have kids or to make a great career for myself. Being a writer wasn't considered a great career, so my writing got increasingly less of my time. Until it became nothing more than a hobby.

Flash forward to now. I'm not married and I have no children. I have a job that I love but it's not a career. And the one thing that I really want to be is a writer.

Here is where I run into trouble. I come up with lots of ideas and usually have no trouble starting them, but I have a LOT of trouble finishing anything longer than a poem. I have several unfinished projects that I've put large amounts of time into that remain unfinished. It's like being trapped onstage and not being able to find the exit.

Over the weekend I got to thinking about it and decided that I would take a few ideas and purposefully write something very short with them. No pressure and no chance of them getting so big they overpower me. And I used my blog for their unveiling.

I still struggled with the endings. The first one was difficult until I stopped fighting the symmetry that wanted to be there. The second one just didn't want to end. A fact that a close friend pointed out by saying, "I like it but I don't like the ending. I think, in part, because I didn't want it to end. It seemed like a very good beginning of something a lot bigger and I wanted it to be." Tell me that doesn't do something for the old ego. The third one gave me trouble because I hadn't really thought it through as much as the first two stories. The characters were still virtual strangers to me so I didn't know where they were headed. So basically I faked it. Hope it didn't show too much.

I think this battle with endings might help me in the long run. At least I hope so. You can expect more very short stories since this is an ongoing battle. Like I said, feedback is always appreciated. If you don't want to leave a comment then feel free to email me.

Thanks again for reading!

Responsibilities...

I stop packing long enough to blow my nose. The tears make me angry and I’m glad no one is here to see my moment of weakness. How could I be so upset about leaving when it is my own idea? After all it’s the best thing for everyone. Especially him.

It was my own stupidity that got me into this mess so leaving without involving him is the least I can do. I know it’s the right thing to do, but the thought of never seeing him again makes me sadder than I thought possible. It’s only fair that doing the right thing is so very hard.

I’m not sure where I’ll go, but I know if I don’t leave soon I never will and that just won’t do. He is too good a person to be dragged down with me. Not to mention that this town would ever let him live this down. Some things still aren’t done in small Southern towns and an illegitimate child is definitely one of them.

Of course he would want to marry me and help raise his child but I would always wonder if he would have done so if I hadn’t gotten pregnant. I know he loves me and I love him. Yet marriage is not something either of us has ever considered or even discussed. He doesn’t need any more responsibilities and I’ve always prided myself on my independence.

With renewed resolve, I go back to packing. I need to be packed and on my way as soon as I can. The longer I wait the harder it will be and it’s already hard enough.

Mentally I begin making a list of all the things I need to take with me. I can’t forget anything. Whatever I forget will get left behind. Sadness threatens to overtake me again when there’s a knock at my door.

Nervously I open the door and am surprised to see him standing on my doorstep. Instinctively my hand moves to my lower abdomen. His eyes follow the motion then meet mine with a defiantly possessive gleam. My heart flutters but I simply step back so he can come inside.

I turn from closing the door and find him staring at the growing pile of luggage and boxes. He turns towards me in disbelief. “You were really going to leave and not tell me?” he asks sadly. My idea suddenly doesn’t sound like such a great one.

“You already have so many responsibilities. I just didn’t want to add to your burden.” I find I can’t stand the pain in his eyes and drop my gaze to my feet. After a few minutes I see his feet join mine and raise my watery eyes to his. The first tear slowly rolls down my cheek when I see the tears in his eyes.

Softly he caresses my cheek and says, “You could never be a burden to me. Either of you.” As his arms go around me he begs, “Please give me a chance to prove to you that this can work. I love you. I don’t want to marry you because you’re carrying our child. I want to marry you because you can make me laugh, make me think, and make my heart race all at the same time. I want to marry you because I can’t bare the thought of you not being in my life. Please don’t make me spend even one day without you.”

After his speech I could never again doubt why he wants to marry me. Tears begin to flow in earnest as I search for the right words to tell him how I feel. “I love you,” is all I can manage before emotion puts a lump in my throat.

“Is that a yes?” he teases. All I can do is shake my head in affirmation. Laughing, he kisses me softly. I melt into his arms as my own arms go around him. “How soon will you marry me?” he asks and it’s my turn to laugh.

Restless Soul...

I’m restless and I start to worry. It’s too soon, far too soon. The pattern is all I’ve been able to rely on all of these years. It’s how I’ve gauged my life style.

Now I find myself thinking things that I shouldn’t be for at least another year. Wondering what I’m missing out in the world while I’m stuck in this tiny town. Yesterday I was blissfully happy, but today the restlessness began chipping away at the edges.

It all started in college so many years ago. After dating the same boy for nearly three years, I began yearning for some time alone. Weeks later, intending only to be gone a few days, I found myself already immersed in a new life. The boy I was so in love with was barely a fond memory.

Now many years and loves later I’m two years into a relationship with a newspaper reporter in a small Texas town. Up until today I’ve been happy in a town where everyone knows everyone else. I’ve enjoyed dating the “catch of the county”.

He’s handsome in a big, cuddly teddy bear way with a wicked sense of humor and sharp wit. He never fails to make me laugh and can make me weak in the knees with a single kiss. He’s not perfect but that’s what makes him so wonderful.

For the last few weeks I’ve been thinking that I’ve never been this happy. That maybe there was something different about him. About us. Yet here I am, wide awake at two in the morning and planning my escape.

I pull the blanket more tightly around me as I feel the chill creeping in through the ancient glass in the bay window. I think for the hundredth time that we should install storm windows before winter really hits but stop myself with a reminder that I won’t be here long enough for that. A tiny moment of regret surprises and saddens me.

I reach up to brush away the tears when I feel him walk up behind me. Silently he slips his arms around me from behind and softly kisses my neck. We stand quietly, both thinking our own thoughts.

“Let’s get away for a while,” he whispers. I turn in his arms to look at his face. “I mean it. I’ve got plenty of time off saved up that we could go away for months. Maybe even longer.” He pulls me closer to him. “We both need a change of scenery and this time you don’t have to leave alone.”

Surprised I look up into his eyes and realize he’s always known. That’s what made him different. He could look into my eyes and see into my soul. I’ve let him further into my life and heart than any of the others. Now I know why. My restless soul recognized another restless soul the moment I found him. I say, “Let’s leave tomorrow,” and he kisses me deeply.

Somewhere, Anywhere...

I close the door quietly behind me and walk out into the darkness. The cool night air goosebumps my overheated skin and I’m glad I grabbed my jacket on my way through the hall. I slip into my car, pausing to drink in the silent closeness of the night. I turn the key, roll down all the windows, and ease out onto the street.

I’m struck by the emptiness around me but resist the urge to check the time. This isn’t about watching the clock. This is about feeling free for just a little while. It’s about breathing some fresh air for a change.

My car moves swiftly out onto the highway and accelerates of its own accord. There’s no destination chosen just a need to be away. I’ve got the clothes on my back and a credit card. That should get me somewhere, anywhere. Just away from here.

I think about leaving and never going back. Disappearing would be so easy and they would only miss me for a while. Eventually, their memories of me would fade and their lives would go on. They’d be happier without me.

I concentrate on the dark strip of asphalt ahead of me. My headlights are the only source of light for miles. Not another living soul for miles and the car feels like it’s flying. I turn off the headlights and soar.

The wind whips the hair away from my face and carries my laughter up into the hills. My heart finally lifts and I inhale the feeling like it’s air. Breathing in excitement and breathing out fear. Racing into the night as fast as my car will go.

I can finally feel blood pounding into every part of my body. All my senses alive and awake, drinking in as many sensations as they can. I sigh with pleasure and reach down to turn the headlights back on.

My car is still safely between the lines on the highway but that doesn’t take away from the thrill. The air around me still feels electric. My heart is still racing. My whole body is tingling as I slow and leave the highway behind.

I retrace my still deserted path, slowly pull into the driveway, and get out of the car. I walk in from the darkness and close the door quietly behind me. I leave my jacket in the hall and move towards the bedroom. Slowly I remove all my clothes and the cool sheets goosebump my overheated skin as I crawl into bed. I slip into your arms and drink in the silent closeness of your body. Sighing, I ease into sleep.

I Never Dreamed...

that I would climb over the moon in ecstasy,
But nevertheless it's there that I'm shortly about to be
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden chance to make my way
And with the golden ticket it's a golden day.











No, I'm not going to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Where I'm going will be much more fun and far less fattening. :)

Cleggy & I are going to visit Laslo & Queen B. I simply CANNOT wait. After the last three & half months, I am ready for some fun. And this long weekend promises to be as much fun as I can handle. There are going to be lots of movies, some good food, and if that wasn't enough dear Cleggy is making me travel CD's for the trip from his house to theirs. Of course the usual rules apply. He makes them and I keep them. There's several of them so if we're a little late getting there, Laslo & Queen B, don't worry. We're probably riding around the block a couple hundred times so I can finish listening. :P

So I'm leaving Thursday and I'll be gone until Monday. No misbehaving while I'm gone. Save that until I get back and can participate. :P