Auld Lang Syne

Returning to Salt Lake after 15 years, I was often curious if I would run into anyone from my youth. Would I recognize them? Would they recognize me? I guess when you grow up and become an adult, the people you once new as a child stay forever frozen in time as they were the last time you saw them.
Many years ago I attended a High School reunion. Some people were easily recognizable, others had changed so much physically you had no idea who they were, and then there were those people that you recognized, but couldn't recall their name or how you knew them.
After a few hours of conversing with people, one particular individual came up to me and just started talking to me as if we had been best buddies in high school. He was familiar, and I knew that he had been in some of my classes, but for the life of me I could not remember his name (his name tag was hidden underneath the lapel of his jacket). I just stood there listening to him, trying to recall his name, but nothing. Then finally after about 10 minutes of casual chit-chat, he looked at me point blank and said, "you don't remember me, do you?" I was floored. He called me on it! Damn! With up most sincerity I told him that in fact I did remember him, but I couldn't remember his name. Fortunately, he laughed and then showed me his name tag, and after a few minutes of weirdness, we continued on with our conversation as two adults. I found out what a neat person he had become, and I hope afterwards he thought the same of me.

As a young girl, I found it easy to "fit in" to a certain extent. I suppose I was outgoing, adventurous and extremely social. I was also a little bit of a rebel, which in conservative Utah was attractive to some that saw me as an "acceptable" person to have fun with. In the world of cliche's I was in what is known as the so called "popular clique." For some that probably draws up visions of a holier-than-thou group that drove sports cars, treated everyone else in school like a turd on the bottom of their over-priced shoe, and had no individual personality to speak of. I can say that for me this was not the case. I worked hard for everything I had, earning money flipping burgers, doing chores, and mowing lawns. I purchased my uncle's old 1982 Mazda that I saved up for at $65 a month, and I absolutely detested people that treated others poorly just because of some imposed hierarchy.
So yes, I was popular by the people that I had as friends, but I never saw myself as anything more that just an average high school girl who was friends with everybody.
After graduation, I had my own dreams and desires that I wanted to live. I struggled to pursue them and still try today. I did not end up spending my days shopping at the mall, getting my hair and nails done, living in some trailer park, putting on 100 lbs pushing out kids every 9 months, and married to some former high school football star that spends his nights drinking and slapping me around. In fact, I think I live a pretty "average" life, being a pretty "average" person. I am generally happy and only get bruised up by my own clumsiness.

So why am I writing about this you might be thinking? As I have moved home (not in the literal sense), I have passed by the old High School a couple of times, and I found myself curious about those that I once knew. How did everyone turn out? Was high school painful or enjoyable? Do people reflect on this time with fondness or with anger and sadness? I remember that time in my life being very confusing. I struggled to find my own identity, and it was always easy to blame another person, group, or organization for my struggles. I suppose it would be still be easy today to blame that time in my life, of being classified and grouped, as a reason behind uphill battles in my life today, but I know that won't help me become the person I dreamed of being. Occasionally, I do come across people that still harbor resentment for that time in their life. I guess that is where the "revenge" post high school stories come from: The Homecoming Queen ends up with 6 kids from 5 different fathers and on food stamps, the Brain becomes the next multi-billionaire, the Jock ends up in prison for spousal abuse, and the Goth ends up getting a Pulitzer for literature. Are these possibilities? Sure, but they are for everyone no matter the clique you were in back in high school.

Fortunately for most of us, we leave high school behind and occasionally get to reminisce and wax nostalgia. I was grateful to go to my reunion and find that I spent more time getting to know the people that I didn't hang out with in high school, then with those that I did. I loved the fact that I got to spend time with all these amazing people, getting to know them all over again, meeting their families, and having good laughs about the ol' times. One of the great things about leaving high school is that everyone gets a fresh start, a level playing field. We all get to prove ourselves as individuals and then come to accept each other a just plain old people trying to make it in the world. I guess to say it best is to quote a movie that defined my generation...

"Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain... and an athlete... and a basket case... a princess... and a criminal...
Does that answer your question?... Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club."

I reflect on that quote now as an adult, and I have to say it couldn't be more true.

Its HOT HOT HOT!!

I think I am melting. High pressure has set up house over our fair state. Looks like we will be averaging 100 degrees for next week and possibly longer. These temperatures are not unusual for Utah, just not for June. 100 degrees is expected late July and August, but we should be in the high 80s for this time of year. That, and I can't remember the last time we had a drop of water fall from the sky.
This morning I went to the nursery to buy some plants for my herb garden, came home to find a sunburn on my forehead (yes I did have spf on) and arms. It felt like being on Mars, with the heat radiating from the ground into my body. The poor plants are just shriveling in their pots.

Earlier this week, I decided to go for a hike in Red Butte Canyon above the University. Although beautiful, this canyon lacks shade trees. It has a lot of scrub oak, but they don't do much for you at 95 degrees and full sun. I only made it up halfway and had to turn around. The heat was just too much.
This weekend my husband is working, so I will have to be creative in finding things to do that keep me cool. I guess I could turn on a sprinkler on my front lawn and do cartwheels through it. Not sure the neighbors would like that idea too much.

Voice of a Woman

It is here
It bubbles to the surface
Singing of love and desire
It is strong with memories of old
The cobwebs filling my head with the voices of the dead
are swept away,
revealing a voice shining with clarity.

It has arrived
Life and love scream from within me
It speaks of places unknown and alive
Listen.
I am here.
I have arrived.

The Weekend

My weekend was a rather calm one. I, in typical "Bindy" fashion, had a slew of things lined up for the few days off: movie in the park Friday night (this week was the Neverending Story), afternoon hike Saturday followed by a nice dinner out, Sunday would be the Park Silly Farmers Market and Utah Arts Festival that evening. Sounds pretty good right? Well, none of it happened. First of all, the hubby was well.....pooped to say the least. He had worked a 14 hour day Friday and wanted to cuddle up on couch and be entertained. Unfortunately for him the movies I had rented were both in foreign languages; Motorcycle Diaries in Spanish, or Letters from Iwo Jima in Japanese, take your pick.
We ended up picking Motorcycle Diaries. I have to say this was a great movie in my opinion. I loved the story. A few years ago when it first came out there was a whole lot of hubbub about it and the result was a bunch of yuppie-types heading down to South America for a little reenactment of the story. After seeing the movie, I can see why people fell in love with this idea, however, I can't imagine that one could "recreate" such an adventure. This movie is one of those rare movies that really spoke to me. It's about finding out who you are, what your made of, and life defining moments that begin to draw the picture of the person you are going to become. It is also about friendship and the adventures that life offers when risks are taken.

Saturday brought warm temps and we decided to work on our fence and garden. Larry was building and I was mulching. After a few hours we were spent and hot. We passed on the hike, and went for a late afternoon movie at the Gateway Mall with a side trip to the Apple store for some updated software. We decided on the film 1408. One of my favorite genres, this little Twilight zone/Hitchcockian film was really entertaining. John Cusack did an amazing job. He is one of those actors that I have literally grown up with. I had/have a huge crush on the man ever since he played Lane Meyer in Better off Dead, really capturing my heart as Llyod Dobler in Say Anything. Give me the choice between Brad Pitt and John Cusack, and its John all the way! Back to the movie......it was mostly filmed in one room (room 1408) with only John Cusack's character. It was scary, but in a good way. Just enough to make you a little uncomfortable, making you jump occasionally (in my case, bury my head in my husbands arm). No gore or any of that crap to distract the from the story, just a good old fashioned fright!

After the movie, we were full of salty popcorn and decided to pass on the dinner out choosing instead to get some meat for hamburgers. It ended up being a nice evening b-b-q at home.
Sunday was again very warm, and I can't say why, but we just didn't leave the house. It was just one of those lazy days that included some housework, more yard work, and more b-b-q. We just didn't leave.
So my plans didn't work out, but ya know what they say....Life is what happens when your busy making plans.

A few pics

If there is one thing I love to do, it's to take pictures (can ya tell?). I don't care if I'm good or not, I just take them. Occasionally, I misplace rolls of film that I have taken. A few weeks ago I was cleaning out the office and ran across some of these long lost rolls. I had them developed, and was anxiously waiting in anticipation of what would be revealed. I got them back today and found out that they were pictures of our trip to Fez, Morocco, San Gimignano, Italy, and a couple of Germany. They most likely got lost because we were still in the middle of moving in when we left for Europe. I will eventually put them on Flickr, but for the time being, I thought I would add some to my blog.


Fez






















San Gimignano, Italy

A little blonde'll do ya

I have never really thought much about hair color. I, myself, have the capacity to be either very blonde (with the help of the summer sun and a swimming pool) or a light brown. As I get older, I spend less time exposing my head and face to the sun due to the fact that my mom has had skin cancer and I want to avoid premature aging if possible. Trying to care for my skin means that I don't get the normal "blonding" action that I used to. No big deal really, after all it's just hair color right? That is what I thought until yesterday.

Every 6 weeks I go to see my hair "girl." My "girl" is the women who does my hair to my exact specifications whilst listening to me rant and rave about my life. Okay, so I'm not that bad. I'm not that high maintenance, but hair it is one of those things that has to be done right. I need someone who can listen to my desires rather than just go to town chopping away at what they think my hair should look like. This women does this for me, thus she is my hair "girl."

Yesterday, during my normal appointment, she recommended adding some new summer highlights. I agreed and we went for it. After an hour of having my hair wrapped in tin foil and picking up the local radio station, I was put under a dryer. Call me crazy, but I thought these things went out of circulation in the 50's. You know what I mean, those old chair dryers with the big helmet that blows hot air on your head for hours at a time, and you only see in old movies where the women are getting their hair "set" while smoking cigarettes (oh so glam). So I am sitting in this contraption reading my annual installment of People magazine, drinking my Diet Coke and thinking to myself "this is it, I have become one of those women that spends hours in a salon getting 'done.' " After about 45 minutes of reading about the latest Red Carpet best and worst dressed (by the way, who gives a rat's you know what), my dryer dinged letting me know my hair was done baking.

After a wash and conditioner with some amazing smelling stuff, we went back to her station where she unveiled my new Do. After some light blow drying, I looked in the mirror and I can't be sure, but I think I turned 16 again. I was shocked to find how young being blonde makes you look. I thought it turned out nice, so I paid my money (which was another shock) and left. Although I like my summer blondness, by the time I made it out to my car, I had already forgotten about it. It is just hair after all, and I have been blonde many times before. On my way home, I decided to stop off at a shopping center to grab a few items. This is when I started to notice a difference in my hair color.

Something strange happens when men see a blonde women. I've seen it before with other blonde women. I can't quite understand it, except that it must be a cultural thing. One guy in a car whipped his head around while driving, another guy tripped over the curb as I was walking towards him (yes, it does help to look where you are going), and the guy at the butcher shop asked me how I was doing with one raised eyebrow, ya know the "how ya doinnn." Gross. I am no Marilyn Monroe here. This isn't platinum blonde, its just a few highlights of gold and blonde. I am not doing some goofy giggle with my legs spread over an air vent, I am wearing shorts and a T-shirt on a mission to buy cat litter.

I got home and showed my husband. "Wow. I like it. You look so cute." Cute! Hummmm. Later that evening I started to think, "do blondes really have more fun?" I'm not sure, I guess that depends on the blonde. I will say that it appears they get more attention. I'm just not sure if it's the type of attention that I am looking for.

The Lunch Date

Samantha looked down at her watch as she walked into Millie's Diner. It was 12:20. She always liked to arrive a little early, especially when she was nervous. She asked the hostess for a table for two in a quiet corner of the patio. As she walked behind the hostess, she looked around the 50s style diner. Kitschy artwork hung on the wall next to large Coke signs glowing neon red. In the corner, a jukebox was playing Elvis's "Don't be Cruel." Didn't really seem to be a place that James would pick. As she remembered him, this place would be...well....a little too cheerful for him. Of course, he did have children now. "This would be a good family restaurant," she thought to herself. The hostess swung open the French doors that led out to the patio. "Now this is more like it," she inadvertently said out loud. The hostess gave her a smile and sat her down at the far side table underneath a large maple tree. The patio was dotted with bistro style tables and chairs, and pots filled with petunias and large grasses. In the center was a beautiful arbor with roses climbing up the sides. "This is beautiful. I'll have to remember this place," she thought.

She looked down again at her watch. It read 12:27. Her anxiety shot up. She didn't know why she was so nervous to see him. "It's just two old friends getting together for lunch, nothing more." She said that to herself knowing it was a lie. She was hoping that it could be two friends getting together for lunch, but she had no idea what they were anymore. Friends, former friends, former lovers? There didn't seem to be a classification for them that seemed to fit. All she knew was that she missed him, no matter what their past was.

Her right knee started bouncing up and down. "Stop it. Take a deep breath." Just then the waiter showed up. "Are you eating alone?" he stated. "No, I am waiting for someone." "Okay, well I leave some menus for you to look over, and I will check on you in a few minutes." He tossed two menu at the table and was off to the next set of people waiting. She breezed through the menu. Standard fare; sandwiches, burgers, salads, etc... . She sat back in her seat looking around at the trees and buildings that surrounded her. "God, I hope I'm not making a mistake," she said under her breath, almost as a prayer. Just then she heard footsteps heading towards her, she turned her head and looked up. "James!" she said with an enthusiasm that surprised even her. He stood there, smiling, staring down at her, "It's so good to see you Sam."

Father's Day

First, Happy Father's Day to my Father-in-law (I hope he might be reading this)! And yes, my husband did get a card from the animals. In our house, kids come with fur.

Father's Day has always been one of those holidays that I struggle with. My own father was non existent in my life, and as far as my memory will go back, I cannot remember celebrating Father's Day with my Dad. I guess when I was planning on moving back to Utah, I had thoughts about spending a real Father's Day with him. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. My step-father and I don't have a relationship, but to be honest, we never have. I am not the type of person that likes to pretend that a relationship exists just because I am suppose to, so I have opted to move on and leave him in my past.

So those of you out there that have really great Dad's, give them a big hug and let them know you love them. Surprisingly, you can consider yourself really lucky if you have a loving, caring Dad. I am fortunate to have a really great Dad-in-law. He has been more of a Father to me than any of my other Dad's (that sounds strange). Big Hugs and Kisses Charlie! Love you!

Saturday morning at the Farmers Market

One of my favorite summer events is to attend the weekly summer Farmer's Market in downtown Salt Lake City. I have been an attendee for 3 summers now, and have seen it grow into a great event. This summer they have added more artisans to the market, which is like attending a small arts festival every Saturday. I love to people watch, dog watch, kid watch, eat food, drink lemonade, and listen to the musicians around the park.

In the middle of my pictures is a boy of about 13 playing his violin. We stood next to him while eating our sticky buns and listened to him play. Not only is he talented, but he is smart as well. In the 10 minutes we listened to him play, he made more than $10!

Articles like this one make my day!

SOFIA, Bulgaria - After a lifetime of brutal treatment, including walking on burning embers, Bulgaria's last three dancing bears will get to rest their paws at a mountain sanctuary, in an apparent end to the centuries-old performance tradition in the Balkans. Activists on Friday bought the freedom of Mima, 8, Misho, 19, and Svetla, 17. Bulgaria is believed to have been the last country in the Balkans where dancing bears still performed, even though the practice was outlawed in 1993, when there were 20 to 30 such bears in the country.The three bears will join another 20 brown bears on Mount Rila at a 30-acre sanctuary for former dancing bears 110 miles south of Sofia."Our aim is to make their life more bearable in their remaining years," Ioana Tomescu of the Austria-based Four Paws Foundation, which created the sanctuary, told The Associated Press.Throughout the Balkans, families — mostly among the Gypsy or Roma community — have long earned a living through performing bears. But the techniques to train them led the practice to be banned, and animal rights activists have moved to find the bears new homes.The bears are captured while still young. Their nose or lips are pierced, and a metal ring attached to a chain is inserted; the pain ensures instant submission.The cubs are forced to walk on burning embers or a hot sheet of metal, and hop from one hind leg to the other in order to escape the burning, while their trainer beats a drum. The process is repeated until the bear learns to connect the drum to the pain.Because dancing bears are illegal, authorities could simply have taken Mima, Misho and Svetla away from their owners in the eastern village of Getsovo.Instead, the Four Paws Foundation decided to pay for their freedom by giving their owners small grants to set up new businesses. It did not reveal how much was paid. In return, the owners signed declarations pledging never to take up the bear dancing business again. - By VESELIN TOSHKOV, Associated Press Writer

Awesome!!

I can't seem to get enough of these little quizzes. How very cheesy of me.

Your Kissing Technique Is: Perfect

Your kissing technique is amazing - and you know it. You have the confidence to make the first move. And you always seem to know what kissing style is going to work best. Sometimes you're passionate, sometimes you're a tease. And you're always amazing!

Are You a Good Kisser?

my short story

A few months ago I started a shortish story. I haven't written it in while because I have been writing about other things. I have decided to finish it rather than leave it half written.

To continue:

James combed his hands through his hair rubbing his scalp and forehead which was followed by a sigh of resignation. He took off his glasses and began rubbing his eyes. With the corner of his sleeve he wiped the lenses of his glasses, and put them back on his face. He looked at his watch, "4:57," he said under his breath. He clicked off his computer screen and began to stand up when the phone rang. "This is James," he answered. "Hi hon,"said the voice on the other end. It was Linda, his wife of 8 years. "Can you stop by Sam's and pick up some milk and bread? We are almost out, and since it's on your way home....". "Sure," he said with an attempt at enthusiasm. "Okay then. I'll see you soon." She hung up. He was slightly annoyed. She rarely if ever asked how is day was, or what was going on at work. She was a great mother and wife, but sometimes it bothered him that that was all her interests were.

He stood up, grabbed his briefcase and jacket, turned towards the door and switched off the light. As he closed the door, the phone rang again. "Damn" he said to himself. He had locked the door and now needed to find the keys so he could open it again. He dropped his briefcase and jacket in the hallway, scrambling through his pant pockets, he found his key chain and located the key. His hands had begun to shake a little as the third ring sounded off. He slammed the door open and leapt for the phone, "Hello. Hello. This is James," he yelled somewhat out of breath. There was no reply. He repeated himself, "Hello." A quiet, female voice came over the phone, "James?". The sound of her voice took his breath away. "Sam?" he replied. "Hi, how are ya?". "I'm fine. Thanks. Sorry to call you so late. I wasn't sure if you would still be in the office." "Yes, well I was just about to leave, but I'm happy you called." he said with a cracked voice. "I won't keep you then, I just wanted to touch base and find out if lunch this week worked good for you?" He thought about it for a second, "Yes, I'm available. How about tomorrow?" "Oh...okay, sure... when and where?" she said a with surprised tone. "How about Millie's down on Main Street. They have a nice lunch out on their patio. Say around 12:30?" He surprised himself with his assertiveness. "Uh...okay. That sounds nice." she said. "See you then. Bye James." "Bye."

He hung up the phone with a smile on his face. He turned toward the door again, picked up his briefcase and jacket and shut the door. He made his way to his car and unlocked the door. Suddenly a shiver of fear ran through him. "Linda," he thought to himself. She was not going to be happy about this reunion. She despised Samantha. Not because she new her personally, but because she has known how James has felt about Sam ever since James and Linda were married. Linda has always felt that she was somehow second in his heart. No matter how she tried, she could never over come the fact that Samantha was his first, true love.

My pet peeves

I spent most of the day running around doing the "errand" thing. Obviously when this happens, one must encounter the plethora of folks going about doing the same thing. Most of the time everyone is very friendly, chatty, or they just mind their own business. Today though, a couple of my pet peeves surfaced.
Case #1: I entered the post office to find a line of people out the door. This was a slight annoyance, especially since I had specifically picked this post office due the general lack of bodies encountered during past visits, however it was somewhat expected with the upcoming Father's Day Holiday. Upon entering the lengthy line, I noticed that only 2 clerks were working the counter. Again, this is also rather annoying, but I haven't come to expect much from the post office (sorry Terry) in regards to customer service.
The kicker for me was that while we were waiting some 30 minutes in line, the lady in front of me still had not decided how she wanted to ship her items. As she went up to the counter, she stepped back to look at the board with all the prices and shipping information to try and find out what she wanted to do. It is the same board we have all been staring at for the last 30 minutes! She himed and hawed.....oh what to do. Give me a break! That just drives me nuts.

Case #2: I cannot stand the sound of babies crying in stores. Not that I find it annoying, it's more like it breaks my heart. I find it extremely disturbing and it brings out this bizarre protective mothery thing in me. My husband has had to restrain me from hunting down crying babies in stores.
While at the grocery store, I was walking down the bread isle when the crying began. I quickly noticed that it was a small baby too. Most of the time the baby is just cranky and the mother (or father) is trying to settle the baby down. I understand that grocery stores are not always happy places for babies or children, and it can become a bit of a pain in the butt, but what I don't like is when I see a baby crying, even wailing, and the mother is completely aloof to what her child is needing. That just burns me.
I realize that as a female that has no children, most people assume that I have no business in the motherhood/ parenthood department. I guess people can think what they want to think, but after working at a daycare, an after school program with 3-5 year olds, teaching middle school students (80+ a day), in addition to studying child psychology at the graduate level, I may know a thing or two about children. So when I see this mother that is spending way too much time sniffing shampoo bottles while her baby is screaming for her, I just want to scream at her, "Your ignoring your baby does not teach it not to cry, it teaches it that it cannot count on you for its needs! Continue this way and your child will learn not to trust or respect you!" I'm sure her response would be to mind my own business, but still..... I wish I could.

I don't know where parents have learned this whole ignoring your kid thing in order to eliminate behavior that isn't convenient or conducive, but it doesn't work. Kids are always needing something from their parents, whether it is being held and cooed, or the often times desperate need of boundaries. I could continue on, but I think I would be off point (if that hasn't already happened). After about 15 minutes, either the baby finally gave up, the mother actually took action, or they left. I was just happy to be able to settle down and continue on with my day.

Photo-licious

A family member, whom apparently visits my blog on occasion (Hi Kitty), recently complained at the lack of photos of moi. I guess I don't normally think to take pictures of myself, or add them to my blog. I think there are usually more important things to look at (ouch!), but I went ahead and added a few that I could find on my computer. I will hope to come across more in the future.

Finally......something worthy on T.V.

The last two weeks I have been enjoying a new show called Creature Comforts, a British spin off. I may have (but won't admit to) wet myself from laughing so hard.

Day Hike

This afternoon we went on a hike above City Creek Canyon utilizing part of the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. It was a great day, the weather was amazing, and although there were a lot of people out hiking and biking, everyone was in great spirits being both friendly and polite. An air of joy has settle into our little valley. In addition, the mountains were blooming with some fabulous color.

Hotdogs and Cracker Jacks

Last night we decided to go to a Baseball game. Here in Salt Lake we have a minor league team called the Bees. We won in the 10th inning, but I was more interested in the fireworks after the game.

Some pictures from the evening.

Summer Possibilites

Summer is nearly here. You wouldn't know it though. I did have to wear pants and a sweatshirt yesterday. I think the high temp was around 60. I am taking the summer off, and now find myself with a lot of time to fill. My husband is in training everyday, and I can't stand spending time plodding around the house, unless it is in my garden. I decided this morning to go about another one of my "famous" lists, otherwise known as "things I hope to accomplish, but will be happy if I get half of them completed." This list does not comprise of the house-completion tasks, because well.....it isn't that important to me anymore. I hope to come back periodically to this list and actually cross them off!

1. Volunteer at the Veterans Hospital Audiology Clinic (already in the works)
2. Volunteer for the Pratt Trail. I hope I can become a useful member for this project.
3. Pick up my guitar lessons again. I finally got it out of storage.
4. At least 2 more backpacking trips (probably in the Uintahs)
5. Take a real photography class.
6. Work on my resume ( I am hoping to get on with someone new in August).
7. Continue with my triathlon training (I am doing one in Florida with my mom next Spring). This is why I would rather have Angelina Jolie boobs rather than Carmen Electra boobs. If you are confused look at previous post.
8. A minimum of 1 day-hike a week.
9. Find and attend a church
10. Start my SLP classes in August (kind of a given)
11. Go to D.C. in July while the hubby is at National Defense school (I like to tag along). I am anxious to visit all the museums.
12. Go to Hawaii again the first part of August.
13. Prepare for the real possibility of temporarily relocating to Hawaii in October.
14. Conquer one of my fears and take dance classes again (the fear stems from my expectations of what I "should" be able to do).

Wow! When I put it all on paper (or on computer screen) it seems like I will barely have time to eat! I hope it is all doable.
There were a couple of other things I thought of adding, so I will leave open the option to add to the list.

Here's to Summer!

Sorry....I couldn't resist.....

Your Celebrity Boob Twin:

Carmen Electra

Who's Your Celebrity Boob Twin?

Used to be a Paris Hilton now I'm a Carmen Electra wanting to be a Angelina Jolie.
Is that too much information???

Ahhhhh. Isn't that nice.

You Are A Lily

You are a nurturer and all around natural therapist. People see you as their rock. And they are able to depend on you. You are a soothing influence. You can make people feel better with a few words. Your caring has more of an impact than even you realize.

What Flower Are You?

Things that go bang in the night

I was awakened at 4:13 this morning to an intermittent banging sound. At first I thought it might have been something getting tossed around outside due to the thunderstorm we were having. But as I lay in bed, trying to get my eyes to focus, I realized that it wasn't coming from outside, but from the hallway near the kitchen. I looked over to my husband, who was apparently unaware of any noises outside of his own. I grabbed my glasses and made my way to the stairs. I found my way to the kitchen and stood there, trying to hear the sound and where it was coming from. I looked out the dining room window, but could only see the neighborhood lights and the occasional flash of lightening. The light made the shadowed leaves from the trees bounce around the room, which looked a little eerie, but still no banging sound. What is going on here? I made my way back to the hallway, nothing. I went to a back bedroom, nothing. All I could hear was the wind. At this point I thought I was losing my mind. I also noticed that neither of my cats was around. This is highly unusual for them. If someone is up wondering around, then at least one of them is at your feet expecting to get fed. Strange. I gave up, and headed back towards the stairs.

As I passed through the hallway to go back to the stairway, I heard what can only be explained by saying a female voice called out my name from the living room. Shivers went up my spine. My first reaction was to run. Holy crap! Someone just said my name from my living room, and I know no one is there! I stopped in my fast paced tracks and decided to back up. It was my curiosity that won out over my fear. I went back to the living room and turned on a light. Nothing.

Okay, I must be certifiable, or maybe I am just sleep walking....and sleep hearing. This is nuts! I turned out the light, and then the most bizarre thing happened. I saw someone, but not with my eyes, with my mind. An image of an elderly women with very light, whitish hair, very petite stature, wearing a rose colored polyester outfit came into my head. She moved not using her legs, but kind of shifting through the air toward me. She had a bright, white light all around her head, and a look of complete happiness and joy all over her face, but she didn't have any eyes. In addition, she was clutching a brown leather purse (weird). She is not someone I recognize as from my family, but who knows. I recently found out that a women passed away in this house some 30 years ago, but I can't imagine she would have any attachment to me? Maybe someone from my husbands family? Why wouldn't she wake him up instead?

I freaked out, and ran to my bedroom. I jumped into bed, which woke up my husband. "Where have you been?" "Just hold me" I said. "What is going on? Is everything okay?" he mumbled through his sleepy voice. "I think we have a ghost or spirit or something. She called out my name." He nonchalantly asked, "Did she talk to you?" Did she talk to me! Like this is somehow a normal event!
I just laid in bed trying to relax and shuffle through the information. Maybe I just thought I saw something, maybe I just thought I heard my name being said. The mind does crazy things, especially at 4:30 in the morning. But I couldn't explain the lady, and the specifics of her features. After about an hour, I got back to sleep. I still can't shake the whole thing. I have always known that spirits are around me. But I usually know they are there because of a certain smell I will get. After my Dad died, I began to get regular pockets of cigarette smells around my house. Not glamorous I know, but that would probably be the one thing that would remind me of him. I don't get them so much anymore. I figure he has moved on to the next phase in his life.

When I was three, I almost drowned in a swimming pool. I didn't know how to swim and got carried out to the deep end of a public pool. It was so busy with people that no one noticed that I had gone under the water. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the panic, the feeling of sinking under. I remember my small, little hands out in front of me trying to grab at the water to get myself up. Out of nowhere a women showed up, and told me to hold onto her back. I grabbed on as tightly as I could. She had a big, thick back. I was coughing and trying to get my breath. She took me to the side, told me to hang on, and then disappeared. That was it. She was gone. I looked for her everywhere, but since I hadn't seen her face, I didn't know what she looked like. At the time, I was just happy to be alive. I was also embarrassed, I didn't even tell my mom until many years later. As an adult, I think about this event often. How odd that a person who just pulled a drowning child out of the water would just leave and disappear. I always thought that maybe it was some sort of Angel. Although my rational mind says it was most likely a women who saw me drowning and jumped in to save me. This makes the most sense, and to me she is still an Angel for saving me. But every once in a while, I wonder to myself, "is it possible?"

I guess I have always had leanings toward the spiritual world, although I'm not what you would regard as religious. I have been "unofficially" diagnosed as being a "Highly Sensitive Person" or HSP, both by my clergy and by a counselor. I know it is a trait passed on through family lines. My Aunt has it, and there are many similarities between us. This probably sounds a bit crazy, and believe me, it is not something I really think about all that often, but it does explain why sometimes life can both be amazingly wonderful and extremely exhausting, due to all the "stuff" I pick up on around me. I guess last night was just another example of it. It makes me wonder if it will get more intense as I get older, or if this is just some sort of fluke, an oddity. Who knows. I guess I just have to stay open to it.

Forgive my lips, they find joy in the most unusal places...

That is a quote from a movie I saw last night. "A Good Year" is a great romantic movie set mostly in Provence, France. The scenery of the film oozes with romance and passion. The soundtrack was also lovely with a lot of French music which inevitably leads to dreams about walking in vineyards under the Mediterranean sun while thinking to yourself "ou la la, life is good."
Okay, so having Russell Crowe as the lead doesn't hurt in the romance department either. But it did make me remember my trip to the Chianti region of Italy 2 years ago. The beauty, the love, the smell, the fabulous wine, and the wonderful Cappuccinos while sitting at a Cafe (my heart is yearning while I right this). I immediately went all nostalgic on myself. I made a promise to myself back then that I would someday buy a small little villa, grow some grapes, and enjoy the love and romance of the area. This movie reminded me of that promise. Apparently the "critics" didn't much care for the film, but I didn't watch it expecting it to be anything more than it was, a romantic film, aka "chic flick." However, my husband enjoyed it as well. The hot French women probably helped.

E is for Envy

Do you have a "perfect" friend? You know, the type of friends that appear to have made all the right choices? They have impeccable timing, and seem to always be happy? I once had friends like that. They were one of our "couple" friends. He was one of Larry's Marine friends that eventually became one of my friends. After they married, she became one of my closest friends while I was living in California. When the guys were overseas, we would do everything together. When the guys were stateside, we would still do everything together. We were all great friends. My memories of those times are some that I cherish most. As time passed, I started thinking that they had some magic key to the land of "perfect bliss." It seemed like everything they touched turned to gold. I had continued to think of them that way... until last night.

As I was making dinner, I received a phone call from the husband side of the perfect couple, who told me that the perfect couple was over. She had left him. I was floored. I couldn't believe that they, out of everyone else I have known, were splitting up. My ideal couple was no more.

He was always the good natured "fun" guy that loved to watch old westerns and read books. She was a perfect blonde California girl. Thin as a rail, but ate whatever she wanted. Ya know, the kind you would like to stuff full of brownies just to see if it really was genetic. She was a school teacher, and between the two of them they made a lot of money, especially for being in their mid twenties. In addition, they were the type that didn't spend money flagrantly. They stayed on a budget, and saved and saved and saved. They were the first to actually be able to buy a home, and them being them, bought a nice new home during the mid 90s recession, and now that home is worth 4 or 5 times what they paid for it. Her parents paid off any debts so they could buy their home. A friend of hers gave them nice furniture for the entire house. He always made the "right" choices when it came to his military career. They would take annual vacations to Hawaii where they would always take the perfect photo for their Christmas card. After a few years of marriage, they had a beautiful little girl. Oh, and did I mention that they were madly in love with each other? It didn't seem like life could get anymore wonderful or perfect, at least through my eyes.

I'll admit, I was dark green with envy. I struggled to keep my weight down, watching everything I ate, and exercising everyday. I had college loans and debt. We couldn't afford to buy a house and had to move from rental to rental, eventually ending up in base housing. We struggled to save money. My husband constantly fought with the "game" being played amongst his peers to succeed in the Corps. We ended up leaving California just to get away from all the crap he had to endure in his squadron. A move that ended up killing his career in the Marines.

Over time, our relationship with them became distant. We would get the annual Christmas card and occasional email update. It seemed like everything was was going just as it always had for them, perfectly.
I feel dreadfully sad for them, and especially their little girl (who is five now), but I was more shocked when I realized how much I had spent comparing myself to these other people. Now that the pedestal has crumbled, I feel off balance. How sad that I had handed so much power over to them (not that they asked for it, I just gave it) which only made me feel worse about myself. I spent so much time feeling second rate to them that I could never see how great my own life was, and how great my own marriage was without saying "ya but look at them, they have everything right." It is amazing when you see a sin for what it really is, and for the life it has taken. I know I let my envy of them come between our friendship. I know I let it hold me back. Hell, it may have even cost me some of my marriage. It was so wrong of me to place such insecurities onto them and to burden our friendship with it.

For them, it is truly tragic. I can only imagine how tough it must be, to lose each other for whatever reason. I am still shocked over it. I am hopeful that maybe they might work it out, that there maybe something still left to salvage.
No, they were not perfect. I realize that now. They were just like everyone else in the world. Going through life, making choices, and trying to live by their own set of values. It was my envy of them that was the poison. Our friendship paid the price for my insecurities. Now I can see that. I only wish that I could have seen it before.

Cleaning Up

I have been under the weather the last couple of days. Still uncertain if I might have picked up something while out in the wild frontier last weekend. I have taken the "at home" time to do a little Spring cleaning. I guess I still have a few weeks until the technical onset of summer, so "Spring" cleaning it is. I started with my bedroom drawers and closets. The amount of clothes that I have that I don't wear is ridiculous. I generally have a rule that if I haven't used something in 3 years, it is time to get rid of it. Well, I have some clothes going back 10 years that I haven't worn in a while, like suits and formal dresses. I always hesitate to give them away. What is really amazing is that I believe I have gotten rid of more stuff since moving here that I have bought, and it still feels like I can get rid of more. I abhor having "stuff" around. It literally drains me. Piles of crap = stress for me.

Funny then, that my husband is the consummate pack-rat. He would love to live in a little fortress of piles of "things" he just can't part with. Fortunate for me that when he is on the road I get to go through stuff and secretly take it to the Goodwill (wha ha ha ha). Sometimes I get off scott-free where he can't seem to recall what it is that he's missing. Other times it's, "honey, have you seen my such and such?" Oh, crap! Then I have to do my best impression of a dumb blonde, "gosh hon, no I haven't. When was the last time you saw it?" He will then wonder off, trying to remember where he had last seen the item in question.

One time I actually tried to find a phobia for not being able throw things away. I couldn't find anything specific regarding the action of discarding items, but did find a phobia relating to the garbage can itself. I asked my husband if he had such a fear. Let's just say he didn't find my humorous jab that funny. I have just come to accept that he and I are different in this regard and that I will always be the one de-cluttering our life, and he will be the one filling it back up. Such as it is in marriage.

Now...on to the garage! Do you think he'll notice if I get rid of some of his tools? Hummmm... better not.