Well, THIS sucks …

A post from the archives.

We didn’t win the lottery AGAIN, which is crushing because PLANS — I was on a quest to revolutionize my wardrobe by way of that venerated institution, the Sundance catalog. Please don’t sue me, Robert Redford, for naming names — I obviously can’t afford that since we STILL DIDN’T WIN THE LOTTERY.

It’s all so disappointing because my first new outfit as a gazillionaire was going to be killer, starting with the jeans, which are $108 and still have PIECES OF ACTUAL DENIM clinging to each other! There’s a sweet top, a twee rumpled creation weighing less than an ounce and going for a very reasonable $198. There’s a distressed-leather peacoat that looks fab with the little top — it’s only $548. The shortie boots in the same shade as the jacket, complete with fringe and studs, are a must — they retail for $575. To nail the look I’ll need the slouch bag for $368 and a cool nubbly belt at $120. Then we get to the fun stuff — the jewelry. Three necklaces, layered, at $1190, $3400, and $1300 respectively; eight stacked wrist cuffs totaling $4800; seven rings for $1603; and the earrings, $285. And a perfectly darling may-or-may-not-keep-time watch for chump change of $98. The surgery to add 10″ to my height is probably going to run into actual money.

So for just the debut ensemble, not counting height-enhancement because who knows, I’m looking at approximately $15,000 with shipping. And realistically I couldn’t wear the outfit every day because it isn’t wedding and funeral appropriate, so it’s imperative that I buy out the catalog in its entirety, including the furniture. My dreams are all-encompassing.

Way to ruin my life, Powerball — Bob and I were going to be besties.

Plan B: Snag this $98 vintage bandanna scarf and accessorize my overalls.

bandanna scarf

Image

I don’t remember dancing …

Did we dance on Tuesday?  I don’t think we danced on Tuesday …

It isn’t an insignificant omission, is the thing.  Because life really IS a dance and if we let the silliness fall off our cracker even once, we could be setting ourselves up for a lifetime of resting bitch face.  Yeah, see, we meant to have fun but we forgot.  And then our faces got bored with smiling and now we feel powerless to, you know, like, fix any of that.

Seriously.  Okay, the rules have changed then — we’ll just dance ANY old day and preferably EVERY day, and even if we happen to forget once in a while, RBF won’t have time to set in!  It’s important, and I’m thinking this could be a breakthrough.  Register your opinion in comments!

 

beautiful story

Image

Still thinking about the year ahead …

Journeys

Image

A story for the new year …

Dandelion_wine

 

 

Μaybe old people were never children, like we claim with Mrs. Bentley, but, big or little, some of them were standing around at Appomattox the summer of 1865. They got Indian vision and can sight back further than you and me will ever sight ahead.”

“That sounds swell, Doug; what does it mean?”

Douglas went on writing. “It means you and me ain’t got half the chance to be far-travelers they have. If we’re lucky we’ll hit forty, forty-five, fifty. That’s just a jog around the block to them. It’s when you hit ninety, ninety-five, a hundred, that you’re far-traveling like heck.”

The flashlight went out.

They lay there in the moonlight.

“Tom,” whispered Douglas, “I got to travel all those ways. See what I can see. But most of all I got to visit Colonel Freeghleigh once, twice, three times a week. He’s better than all the other machines. He talks, you listen. And the more he talks he gets you to peering around and noticing things. He tells you you’re riding on a very special train, by gosh, and sure enough it’s true. He’s been down the track, and knows. And now here we come, you and me, along the same track, but further on, and so much looking and snuffling and handling things to do, you need old Colonel Freeleigh to shove and say look alive so you remember every second! Every darn thing there is to remember! So when kids come around when you’re real old, you can do for them what the colonel once did for you. That’s the way it is, Tom, I got to spend a lot of time visiting him and listening so I can go far-traveling with him as often as he can.”

Tom was silent a moment. Then he looked over at Douglas there in the dark.
“Far-traveling, you make that up?”

“Maybe yes and maybe no.”

“Far-traveling,” whispered Tom.

“Only one thing I’m sure of,” said Douglas, closing his eyes, “it sure sounds lonely.”

(Ray Bradbury, “Dandelion Wine”, 1946)

… grateful to my friend Angela Petraline for sharing

Image

Not going down without a rant …

My tolerance for whining is minimal, so I try not to do it.

Just the facts then.

If you’ve never experienced an auto-immune disorder there’s no way to explain it to you, but I’m willing to try because at least a dozen people on my Facebook feed, including me, deal with fibromyalgia and/or other auto-immune malfunctions on a daily basis.  If you’ve somehow formed the opinion that we’re lazy, unmotivated, hopeless weenies, at least scan the information below.  Most of us, like you, have dreams and plans, if only our bodies would get in the game.

Part of the frustration that comes with fibro is its unpredictability — one day you’re flying high, the next you can’t get out of bed.  More often, the transition takes place between one hour and the next.  A second frustration is that, plan as you might, there will be social opportunities missed and projects that never really get off the ground.  A third, if you can call it a frustration, is that when flares hit they’re fairly relentless and the prolonged pain and hypersensitivity in bones, joints, muscles, tendons and other soft tissues let you know that everything is on hold for a while.  A fourth is that while researchers are on the brink of several breakthroughs, the root causes of fibromyalgia remain elusive, ergo no effective treatment yet.

I’m blessed that my husband gets it and doesn’t see me as dead weight to haul around, but not all are so fortunate.  It can be a lonely walk, so for friends and family who have to carry the burden of all we DON’T know about the auto-immune spectrum in general and fibromyalgia in particular, here are the fruits of my highly-personal, mostly-unscientific research into the disorder known among the ranks as “the invisible beating.”  (Click pics to enlarge.)

 

common fibro conditions

FibroFrame2

FibroFrame1

FibroFrame3

FibroFrame4

FibroFrame5

FibroFrame6

Omigosh, you’re still here?  You are either a really caring soul or you have a vested interest in the subject, or both.  We can all help make things better for each other — that’s the truth.  I’m glad you’re a part of that …

Image

Winter Solstice

WinterWelcomeCoffee

Ready for snowy days, fireplaces, and nesting.  

 

Image

Monday AGAIN!

And on this one I’m without adult supervision until late in the day because Kim is down the block supervising the set-strike for LAC’s last production.  Madison has been asleep all morning and I’ve been right here on my blog and Facebook.  This evening Kim and I get to be extras in a movie that’s being filmed locally, and tomorrow we’ll be vacating our loft while they do a 10-hour shoot here.

TOLD you last week I was going to take over Mondays and rule the world!!

 

film-flagship

Image

Well, THIS sucks …

We didn’t win the lottery AGAIN, which is crushing because PLANS — I was on a quest to revolutionize my wardrobe by way of that venerated institution, the Sundance catalog.   Please don’t sue me, Robert Redford, for naming names — I obviously can’t afford that since we STILL DIDN’T WIN THE LOTTERY.

It’s all so disappointing because my first new outfit as a gazillionaire was going to be killer, starting with the jeans, which are $108 and still have PIECES OF ACTUAL DENIM clinging to each other!  There’s a sweet top, a twee rumpled creation weighing less than an ounce and going for a very reasonable $198.  There’s a distressed-leather peacoat that looks fab with the little top — it’s only $548.  The shortie boots in the same shade as the jacket, complete with fringe and studs, are a must — they retail for $575.  To nail the look I’ll need the slouch bag for $368 and a cool nubbly belt at $120.  Then we get to the fun stuff — the jewelry.  Three necklaces, layered, at $1190, $3400, and $1300 respectively; eight stacked wrist cuffs totaling $4800; seven rings for $1603; and the earrings, $285.  And a perfectly darling may-or-may-not-keep-time watch for chump change of $98.  The surgery to add 10″ to my height is probably going to run into actual money.

So for just the debut ensemble, not counting height-enhancement because who knows, I’m looking at approximately $15,000 with shipping.  And realistically I couldn’t wear the outfit every day because it isn’t wedding and funeral appropriate, so it’s imperative that I buy out the catalog in its entirety, including the furniture.  My dreams are all-encompassing.

Way to ruin my life, Powerball.  Mr. Redford and I were going to be besties.

Plan B:  Snag this $98 vintage bandanna scarf and accessorize my overalls.

 

bandanna scarf

Image

Progress in the new year …

Today brings a quick overnight trip to get a trailer-load of items from our condo — more of the little things that make a house (loft) a home, plus our washer & dryer and Kim’s music equipment.  And then by next week at the latest I’ll be hoping to start turning over a few “new leaves.”  A daily post here on my blog, quality time spent at the piano, more walking, less eating … and there will be others.  I’m sure you noticed that I’m not calling these things “resolutions” — for me it would be the kiss of death and they would barely see daylight before shriveling up and crumbling in a big mess on the floor.

I hope 2014 has started out fresh and positive for everyone, and I hope above all to be here enough this year to get to know each of you a lot better!

newy

 

Image

I’m back, darlings …

I’ve neglected you but not rejected you.  This past summer set records for suckiness on the mood front, so not much writing happened.  Then we got the bug to move … and even less writing happened.  There was a trip to San Francisco in there, too — inspiring but busy.  And now I’m ready to write again.  I hope my friends who’ve wandered away in the face of silence will wander back — I’ve missed you!

The bedroom side of our new loft has a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, and my desk overlooks a busy street corner that serves up a microcosm of life ’round the clock.  There are houses on two corners, a business on one, and our parking lot on the fourth.  People in East Lawrence walk everywhere.  They walk their dogs.  They push their babies in strollers or wear them in slings, and daddies are every bit as prevalent as mamas.  They walk to lunch and come back carrying take-out containers.  They walk alone, in pairs, in groups.  They walk in every kind of weather — without wearing grim expressions on their faces.  They ride bicycles by the dozen.  I watch them and fall under the illusion that I, too, have been out enjoying the day and moving my limbs.  Instead I’m a voyeur, an observer.  My boo-boos from the move are nearly all healed, my spirit almost fully recharged.  My new bicycle waits patiently in the parking garage, and Mass St. is calling my name.

For now I sit at my desk.  Thinking, remembering, snacking, drinking (sometimes).  It’s so easy just to sit and watch the leaves fall off the trees and pretend other people are getting my exercise for me!  Stay tuned … I have a feeling it gets better.

Helloooooo ???

A note to all of my Word Press friends:

I MISS you!!  My summer started in Stress mode and is ending in Omigosh, Life is So Good mode.  I’ve hardly written a thing all summer and my spirit is drying up on the inside of me.  Must get back to solitude and expression SOON.  Bottom line, friends … we are in the process of moving.  Not only moving but downscaling by 2,000 sq. ft.  It’s something we want with all our hearts … but a bit challenging.  As long as you’re having fun everything’s fine, right?

The move will be completed soon and I’ll be back to tell you all about it.  Can’t wait!

Preaching to the choir …

Preaching to myself, actually.

382668_626937434000248_1994798345_n

Image

A note to my friends …

I’m woefully far behind on the important part of my blog — the part where I keep in touch with my WordPress friends.  I love “likes” — that makes perfect sense, right?  And your comments are wonderful — I do keep up with those.  But I have a long list of people in my email who have visited this blog and whom I want to visit in return.  And I will.  I’m far, far behind on my Reader — is there even such a thing as being “caught up?”  For now I just wanted to say a quick thank you for the wonderful things you write, the thoughtful ways you stay in touch with other WordPress bloggers, and for your patience.  Most definitely your patience!

ThankYou

Image

Daily Prompt: Evasive Action

What’s the most significant secret you’ve ever kept?  Did the truth ever come out?

A fabulous secret has been mine to keep for the past several years, and the truth will finally be known to all concerned very soon.  If you’re ever just bursting to share something, but don’t want it to be public knowledge yet — or ever — feel free to tell me — I can most definitely keep a secret.  I like good news secrets best, but I’ve also been the holder of sad secrets, scary secrets, slightly dangerous secrets, and run-of-the-mill secrets.  The real secret to a secret is that whatever it entails it’s the sole property of its owner and, therefore, sacred.  And one special perk of being a secret-holder is that when its owner says “Go,” you have the privilege of spilling the beans to everyone … or to a hand-picked few.  Watch this space …

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/06/daily-prompt-secrets/

There is no age limit on this …

164919_539526996110357_686729570_n

Image

Previous Older Entries

Winnowing the Chaff

rarasaur

frightfully wondrous things happen here.

FranklyWrite

Practice Writing

Social Justice For All

Working towards global equity and equality

Drinking Tips for Teens

Creative humour, satire and other bad ideas by Ross Murray, an author living in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, Canada. Is it truth or fiction? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.

john pavlovitz

Stuff That Needs To Be Said

Drifting Through

Welcome to the inner workings of my mind

KenRobert.com

beginnings, middles, and ends

Margaret and Helen

Best Friends for Sixty Years and Counting...

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

Musings of a Penpusher

A Taurean suffering from cacoethes scribendi - an incurable itch to write.

Ned's Blog

Humor at the Speed of Life

Miss Snarky Pants

A Humor Blog For Horrible People

mylenesmusings

Every other asshole shares their opinions, why shouldn’t I?

%d bloggers like this: