To each his own. To me my own.

Posts tagged “opinion

Back for seconds, Di¢# I mean Rick?

It’s one of my very favorite things in life. No beef please, my barbecue must be of pork status, thankyouverymuch. Although I have a few local favorites, my top pick would be The Woodlands located in the Blue Ridge mountains of Blowing Rock, NC.

If you’re ever in the area… hit ’em up. Be sure and tell ’em I sent ya. (Bonnie who?? Oh yeahhh… that girl who drains an entire bottle of sauce and empties a roll of paper towels each time – gotcha.)

Hailing from the Carolinas myself, I simply have to go there. Ya just gotta love that new method of earning votes. Hey, I’m sure there’s a master plan in there somewhere. (choke-snort-snicker)

Don’t listen to him, folks. Our barbecue will absolutely rock your world. As far as roadkill – it’s seems obvious that ole’ ®ick has had a helping or two in his lifetime, since he’s now expert enough to compare it to our pork.

Back for seconds, Rick? Here’s your warm southern welcome.


Questions, always

The subject always heats me up in a bad way. Each time I try to write about it I end up backspacing, deleting, rewriting – and guess what? I still end up all over the place. This is sure to be no exception.

A guy I know is going through a rough time. Upon recently learning of his wife’s affair with a co-worker, he confronted her on it. She pledged to ‘end’ it, but obviously didn’t. Long story short, he left her this past weekend.

My curse of thinking too much strikes again, as question after question invades my thoughts. Even if she had ‘ended it’ like she promised, could she really have continued working with the ex-lover? And if so, could my friend have slept well at night knowing the two were still ‘together’, albeit on the job?

Welcome to today’s world where the females are definitely giving the males a run for their money on this issue. At the risk of sounding crude… I’ve gotta go there. Why can’t these people keep their pants on? Can an hour of pleasure really be worth destroying the life of your spouse and/or children? Does your stomach not twist up in worry and angst over what you’ve done – or at least from fear of getting caught? And are ya really gonna trust someone you cheated with not to do the same to you later?

Don’t get me wrong – I absolutely do have great respect for those who’ve been able to get past an affair and ultimately save their marriage. I just can’t imagine many cases turning out like that.

I’ve heard the words reason or exception thrown around, I say SAVE IT. No reasons or exceptions matter to me in this most tender area. Yes I have an assload of sins myself, but infidelity isn’t in that huge pile and it never will be. I know some might call my views one-sided, and maybe they are – but they’re mine. Infidelity within a marriage is a certain removal of trust – the most personal betrayal – a definite stab in the heart. Who knows what goes on in a cheater’s head – I’m just unable to rationalize it in any way shape or form.


A Day of Remembrance

This ten-year mark of the September eleventh attacks will be a little different than the prior nine.

What’s sure to be an emotional unveiling of the 9/11 Memorial and Museum will happen this Sunday morning of September 11 2011. It has been a long-awaited and intricately planned project to say the least. Granted, these are my words. I realize there are no ‘appropriate’ words to use to describe the attack itself, it’s Memorial nor the intense emotions that run so deep when one thinks back to that fateful day ten years ago.

This past weekend I watched a 2-hour special on the years of work leading up to the completion of the 9/11 Memorial Site and Museum. All the time, effort and respect shown by everyone involved was nothing short of an amazing story. It had it all – love, grief, courage, oneness. Such an important word in the continued endeavor to heal – ONENESS. I believe the generations that went through these attacks will be working to heal for the rest of their lives.

To me, there could be no more appropriate memorial than this beautiful one that took so long to conceptualize and create. Two seemingly ‘endless’ pools sit on the area where the Twin Towers once stood. They are each nearly an acre in size and feature the largest man-made waterfalls in North America. The large pool of the initial waterfall spawns a second small one in the center which appears to cascade infinitely into the earth. The surrounding bronze panels edging the pools are carefully inscribed with the names of every person who perished in both the 2001 and 1993 attacks. I can’t imagine there being many dry eyes for those citizens witnessing the unveiling of this Memorial, whether in person or on television.

I’ve been told more than once that I ‘dwell’ too much on the most horrific terror attack in modern history. My answer to that is and always will be, so be it. One time when I brought it up to a close friend, I was dismissed with I never want to think about it again – it’s too horrible. It’s something that’s already happened and in the past now. As much as I still love this person, I’ll never forget the impact of hearing those words. Just mere days after the attack, when airplanes had yet to be given clearance to fly in our skies again – my ex husband told me I can’t watch any more of this, I’ve had it. From then on, just about everything else I watched had to be on my own time – adjusted around other shows which seemed to take precedence over 9/11. Again, so be it. I can report with much confidence that I did continue seeking information, and by the grace of God, I got it.

I’ve said this before but feel it bears repeating – I’d rather have nightmares about 9/11 every night for the rest of my life than to ever to forget about it. It’s true each of us are different, and we all have our own ways of dealing with tragedy. I realize this post is only one person’s views of the lasting effects from the largest loss of life from a foreign attack in the US so far. But let us not confuse the term ‘morbid dwelling’ with somber respect and remembrance. The act of remembering September 11th isn’t just black or white – equally as important are the shades of grey in between.

Official 9/11 Memorial Site     9/11 Memorial Webcam


FD Marathon

The movie Final Destination 5 is out and I’m dying to see it. Friday I found out that Keith not only hasn’t seen 3 or 4 (the usual average missed in a series of movies) but he has yet to see any of them. I can now report we officially have a Final Destination edumacation – that is, except for the new and improved #5. Full-screen trailer can be seen here.

For those who don’t know what the movies are about, each starts something like this. One person within a group has a vision of something catastrophic that’s about to happen. This ‘vision’ of impending doom shakes the person up, causing them to freak out and immediately abandon whatever it is they’re doing. A small group of people also follow his/her lead, thereby saving their own lives when that vision actually comes to life a few minutes later. Thing is, this whole new series of events screws up what they call ‘death’s design’ – so one by one, each person of that group meets their fate in some freak accident. And, they die in the same pecking order as they would have had they not exited their original… final destination.


I haven’t watched this much tube in like five years or more – my eyes hurt. FD1 Friday night, FD2 Saturday morning, FD3 Saturday night and the FD4 Sunday afternoon. Any Final Destination trivia can be thrown this way, please.

In an endeavor to keep my very own final destination at least an arm’s length distance or better, I’ve learned a few things not to do…

    • Never, under any circumstance, should you stand anywhere near a barbed wire fence.
    • When boarding your local roller coaster, think twice about actually belting yourself in.
    • Always look both ways before crossing the street. Twice. Three times, even better.
    • When entering a tanning bed, never pull it all the way closed.
    • If you ever go visit Paris, make sure you’re not on Flight 180. In fact, if you see those three numbers listed anywhere near you in that particular order – run, don’t walk.
    • When swimming in a public pool, it may actually benefit you to wear your swimmies.
    • Avoid nail guns at all costs. Hammers still do the job well, with a little more effort involved.
    • A fire escape may not serve as an actual escape.
    • If your car has had electrical problems in the past – you may want to avoid car washes.
    • Never ever enter an elevator with someone who is holding a box of prosthetic hooks.
    • Duct tape has an endless variety of uses – including safeguarding your house.
    • If a pigeon continually crashes into your dentist’s office window – leave immediately and find another dentist.
    • It’s not a bad thing to pay attention to to your visions and inner voices. Just don’t let it drive you crazy…


MY Bucket List

If any of you out there would like to do this – I’d love to read yours!!

‘Every man dies. Not every man really lives.’ ~William Ross

  1. Cage-diving with great white sharks. Though I prefer great whites off the coast of South Africaany shark over 12 ft. in any ocean will do. Second choice of sharks would be bulls or tigers.
  2. Swim in a clear blue sea. This could be anywhere from the Caribbean to the Keys. As long as it’s clear and blue.
  3. Experience what it’s like to be proposed to.
  4. Write a book. One that gets published – even better.
  5. Zip-line somewhere in or near a tropical setting.
  6. Witness a media shower.
  7. Wear a wedding dress.
  8. Swim with dolphins. Not just coexist in the water together – I want to touch them, let them pull me around, and give them kisses. 🙂
  9. Own my own boat. Not a yacht or anything – just one that could tote 8-10 people around comfortably.
  10. Learn to Salsa Dance… well.
  11. Learn to surf. Five full seconds atop a wave would make me uber-happy.
  12. Have Gary LeVox and the band of Rascal Flatts sing live to me.
  13. Get my passport. When I finally win that trip around the world I’d like to be able to actually go, after all.
  14. Go sailing. Real sailing. On a real moving sailboat.
  15. Get a tattoo of a butterfly. And I can stop at one. At least I think I can.
  16. Possess a concealed carry permit. Along with my piece.
  17. Revisit my birthplace, Muenchweiler, Germany.

(Footnote: I have no qualms about combo-packaging numbers 11, 8, 5, 2 and 1.)


Waterboarding

Aside from the occasional reality show, Discovery and History channels, about the only thing I watch on television is national news channels. I learned a few things about the Warren Jeff’s case in Utah yesterday that were so disturbing I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Unfortunately I’m not talking about one of my favorite water sports here.

I’m aware of the bigamy. The child marriages. The alleged ‘brainwashing’. The whole god-like persona this man has assumed in order to maintain control of his sect. I refuse to label any of this as religion – I will however label it as false religion. False religion as in hiding under the word of God to promote his and others own selfish and unspeakable acts. Hey, I realize it’s just my opinion – but it’s what I believe.

As if all of the above wasn’t bad enough…

I must admit, I had no earthly idea what waterboarding meant. Wiki describes this torture as ‘water being poured over the face of an immobilized captive, causing the individual to experience the sensation of drowning’. Apparently there are varying forms of the abuse, and the women of this compound in Utah have put an entirely different spin on it. They are taught to restrict their babies from crying from birth throughout toddlerhood. When the babies cry, they instinctively cup their hands over the babies mouths to ‘quiet’ them. This deprives them of air, thus halting the crying momentarily. As more crying ensues, they repeat this torture until the child is completely exhausted and just falls asleep passes out. By the time the child gets older, they will have been all but voided of their emotions – which was the plan all along. Transformed into a debilitative state of mind, the females become totally reliant on their male elders for literally everything.

This is an absolutely deplorable act. It’s illegal. It’s child abuse in one of the highest forms. It shouldn’t be labeled something as aesthetically or audibly pleasing as ‘waterboarding’. I’ll just call it what it is, thanks – smothering.

As of last night, officials are pondering whether to file formal charges on the adult women with child abuse. Of course they should!! Officials should do anything and everything to take charge of this situation and protect these poor children who have no voice. How could you hand over your 11-year old daughter to a 50+year old man in the hand of marriage rape? Sorry, no mother-of-the-year award for you this go-round. I say charge these women now, and get the children out now. Counseling for undue influence can come at a later date. Know that Warren Jeffs IS replaceable, and will be if convicted – no doubt about that little factoid.

It’s 2011, and these unspeakable acts are still being committed against our children. Simply unbelievable… or is it?


Another day in the life

I read an interesting post this morning written by someone dear. It has everything to do with assumption and its repercussions.

Nagging little mosquitos continue to swarm around, hoping for a good meal.

Assuming something that’s not been proven fact can get you into trouble. When coupled with unfounded accusations, even bigger trouble. Best to stay away from both.

In logic, an assumption is a proposition that is taken for granted, as if it were true based upon presupposition without preponderance of the facts. (Wikipedia)

Presume. Speculate. I was just a bit surprised to find (Dictionary.com) the word arrogance as an important integer in the definition of assumption… imagine that.

(Urban Dictionary) coins the phrase we’ve heard for just about our entire existence. Assume = to make an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’. For instance, it is sometimes spelled as ASSume, to emphasize the importance of the word “ass” in the equation.

We should also remember that assumption can foolishly lead a person astray from the ‘real’ path they should have been following to begin with.

Just another day in the life – here’s to better days ahead.


Der Geier

A vulture is described as: a large bird of prey, characteristically having dark plumage and a featherless head and neck, feeding chiefly on carrion (carcasses of dead animals). Ironically enough, a second definition is listed below the initial one: A person of a rapacious, predatory, or profiteering nature.

Why would someone not want to be around a person in life – but choose to circle overhead after they’re dead and gone?

A couple of days ago a dear relative of mine lost a courageous battle with a terminal illness. This person died alone, without their children. This person cried about their children and continually asked ‘what could I have done so horrible that they wouldn’t want to see me or even speak to me?’. I saw the tears.  I saw the hurt. I saw the raw pain.

I saw it. My mother saw it. They did not.

They were immediately made aware of the situation as it began last August, when the first surgery occurred. Since then there have been multiple hospital stays, tests, scans, and more tests. I relayed information to them as I had it. The unresponsiveness forced me to type an email to inform of the finality of the illness. I had to send a freaking email to say the word terminal.

But it was all in vain.

The very evening of this person’s death, we were told to get there quickly – the heart is failing. I called and left word with the children, who of course are grown. It’s bad, I said. If you want to see him, you’d better get there quick. I left the room number.

All in vain.

Keep your sorry excuses. Continue to justify abandoning your parent at a time when they needed you the most – as they lay there dying. I hope you sleep well at night. Instead of counting sheep, maybe you can count all those tears your father shed for both of you.


A Little Town Called Urbanna

Ever have a place you’ve visited just stick with you – certain sights and events bringing the place fresh back into focus? As I crossed the sunrise-laden bridge this morning, I was reminded again of a visit a couple of years ago to a little portside town in Virginia – to a little town called Urbanna.

I think about this place every time I see a sunrise. I think about it every time I pass over the river on the way to work. I think about it most every time I lay my eyes on a boat. Sometimes I consider this a burden and wish it to be lifted from me; to regain the ability of forming my own thoughts and memories from such sights. It doesn’t seem meant to be, though – and this morning was no exception.

Urbanna is located on Virginia’s middle peninsula on the Rappahannock River, which eventually spills into the beautiful and majestic Chesapeake Bay. This historic town was originally established as a port for the shipment of tobacco to England. The old tobacco warehouse built in 1766 is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and serves today as the Visitors Center. This warehouse is located on Virginia Street, which ironically enough is one of my favorite streets there.

The town itself is as friendly as the day is long, and the locals seem to go out of their way to please you. They are proud of their towns history and the fact that aside from the annual Oyster Festival which attracts 70,000 each November, Urbanna is still able to maintain that hometown feel. As you walk through town, it’s almost as though nothing at all has changed since the fifties. The in-town drugstore still has a fully-operational diner inside, complete with swivel-seat barstools. Even the streets seem to want to tell you their story as you stroll down them.

X marks my approximate anchor location on Urbanna Creek. ©Google Images

I learned being rocked to sleep by the waves is one of my most favorite things, as well as waking up the next morning to the sunrise over the water. I ended up adapting to that little sailboat so quickly it about made my own head spin. Within a day I’d perfected my way around atop and below the boat – finding out exactly what I could hang onto and what I couldn’t, and what I could swing from and what I couldn’t. 🙂

I was sad to learn of the vineyard I visited closing down in 2010, White Fences Winery and Vineyards. What a nice drive over the bridge where you can see the Rappahannock River merging with the Chesapeake Bay. Unlike some local wineries, White Fences had acres and acres of vineyards to walk. The massive greenery would hold your imagination captive for as long as you would allow it.

The town slogan, as it appears on main page of their very well-put-together website:
“Turn off the main road. Or cruise up the Rappahannock River from the Chesapeake Bay. To the slightly off the beaten track tidewater town of Urbanna,Virginia. Home of Virginia’s official oyster festival, more boats than folks and laid back innkeepers, shopkeepers, chefs and townspeople who’ll help you shuck your stress and slip into an island state of mind.”

Yep… in this case, I’d say the city slogan fits quite well.

In the distance where the sun is hitting, Rappahannock River dances with Chesapeake Bay

Official website of Urbanna, VA


The Word

Since my separation and divorce, the word has never passed my lips with regard to myself. I just don’t believe a woman should the first one to speak it, and I have my own personal reasons for feeling that way.

Marriage. 

A long long time ago, I did utter it and lived to regret it. I became a prisoner of the word; listening intently to expressions of regret for the next twenty-plus years. ‘The whole thing was your idea”, I was told. Other times, “Your mother might as well have held the shotgun”. Great – my own little shotgun marriage, standing in front of a judge in a courthouse on that hot August day. How lovely. How endearing. How very valued those words made me feel.

In some ways, I think being made aware of this bitter regret only served to make me stronger. I’ve come to the realization the path to real love and commitment will never be found on a one-way street. That the word compromise actually exists for non-selfish reasons. That the amazing feeling of total and complete trust creates an airtight bond that is impenetrable.

I won’t even go so far as to throw out a hint. As far as writing about it, I’m not really concerned with who reads this. I know K doesn’t read my blog – he reminded me of that little factoid just last week. Besides, as dear old Dr. Suess once said…

Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind. 


Those darn social networks…

My friend Kim over at What Now? It’s a Matter of Inflection… wrote a very nice post yesterday about how much positive energy she’s gotten out of facebook. Keeping up with friends and family updates on facebook does seem to be of the ‘norm’ nowadays. At the risk of looking like a copycat, I’ve got to run with a prime example that coincides closely with her own post.

I have a rut routine in the morning. First I go straight for my little 7-day container of medicine, pretty much consisting of bp meds and vitamins, scoring either a diet coke or diet Dr. Pepper to down them. Then I’ll grab my iPhone, where I’ll quickly graze facebook and twitter to get any up-to-date news and make sure nobody died (seriously, I’ve found this kind of stuff out on there before). I’ve found I don’t need any rss feed on other news channels, since anything newsworthy will appear on either of these two social networks.

C’mon Bon… what’s your point??

Soooo – I wake up this morning to a facebook post by my 23-year old daughter that reads, “I hate hospitals. Ewwww.” Posted at approximately 0327 hours.

Instant panic. Of course, none of the comments posted afterward allude to what actually happened, which is par for the course. My fingers couldn’t text her fast enough this morning.

Why are you texting her, Bon – why not just call her? This is important, after all!!

Today’s generation of children do not answer their cell phone. Additionally, do not bother leaving them a voicemail. If you do prefer to waste your precious time leaving a voicemail, know that it will sit all alone in it’s inbox for years until tumbleweeds begin to float past it. Our kids today only want a written (short) text which they may respond to AT. THEIR. LEISURE. If you know all this beforehand, it’ll save you a lot of time and trouble. Unfortunately since I’m a first-generation parent of the current generation of kids – I’ve had to learn it all the hard way.

I didn’t receive any reply from my daughter until just now, 1104 hours in the morning. The golden text just arrived telling me she is fine, and it was her friend who had cut his hand wide open. While cutting an apple. At three in the morning. Of course, her phone died while waiting 4 hours in the ER, and since she didn’t go to bed until this morning she couldn’t hear Mum’s text! At least now I can finally sigh very loudly breathe easier knowing that she’s okay. You never stop worrying about your kids. I guess it’ll be the same at any age, 23 or 53.

In closing, I guess Kim and I won’t be closing down our facebook accounts anytime soon! I hope everyone out there enjoys a wonderful weekend. 🙂


My Love Affair with Sweet Summer

Hot, sultry days – days that are so long, the sun seems to argue the point of going down. Sweet balmy nights when I find myself not wanting to go to bed, instead to remain in the warm fresh air and gaze up at the stars so very clear in the night sky. A dark starry sky free and clear of city lights – even sweeter.

How I adore a Summer wardrobe. I have so many pairs of flip-flops I could start my own store. They’re the most comfortable footwear in the world to me, and I’d love to wear them year-round. I’m equally as passionate about bathing suits, all color-coordinated and hanging up neatly! Can’t leave the shorts out – they go along with tank tops so well, don’t they? Ah, tank tops. Another radiant collection that spans one-third of my closet. Have you ever noticed that these summer pieces never go out of style? Ding-ding… I believe we have a winner!

I cherish the sweet coconut-like smells of summer. Seashells. The beach. Surfboards. Pools. Floats. Sunshine. Flowers. Drinks with little umbrellas in them. Sunglasses. Sailboats. Palm trees. Guess I need to venture a little further south to live, like Florida. I think I just gave myself another reason to look forward to retirement.

It’s not only my favorite time of year – it’s my favorite state of mind. Yes, I believe Sweet Summer is definitely a state of mind…


The Truth

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to have my Dad over. We cooked out Saturday night and watched a movie afterwards, and the next morning attended service at his church. With it being a 50-mile drive from my home to his church, Keith suggested that him spending the night might make things easier. I can’t express how grateful I was for the opportunity to do this.

I was able to meet Dad’s fellow church members, many of which are elders. Those of us who were early sat on the side pews and conversed amongst each other. I didn’t pay much mind to a kindly gentleman who got up and went back outside, until Dad turned around later and said, “That’s Mr. and Mrs. Q. They can’t take care of each other anymore, and live separately. Every Sunday morning he eagerly waits outside for her to arrive.”

I would estimate Mr. and Mrs. Q to be in their nineties. As I turned around and watched them come ever so slowly down the isle, arm in arm – my heart melted. What I saw wasn’t two elders. I saw a very beautiful couple, each wearing a wide smile. Love radiated outward from them, I mean they actually glowed. It seemed a real-life version of The Notebook, and I found myself wanting to know more about this couple I’d never met.

After church, we went to my great aunt and uncle’s house where they had prepared us a feast for lunch. They recently celebrated 62 years together – not only are they very dear, but very wise. I’d like to give you an example of just how wise.

While seated across the table from them, Uncle N said, “The secret of a long and happy marriage is always telling each other the Truth. No matter what, even if it’s something the other doesn’t want to hear. When you tell them the Truth, it gives them worth. It verifies they are valuable to you.” Aunt D listened intently while nodding her head in complete agreement. Anyone could see how deep in love they still are, even more so, after all these years.

None of us are perfect, for there is but One that is. The trivial things in life are really that – trivial. I see it as black and white, really; the things that actually matter in life are just plain common sense. I believe a couple should respect each other enough to abide by Truth together. I’ve never understood what could be so hard about that.

From the very beginning K and I each made Truth a requirement, not an option. Sure, sometimes it’s going to be something hard to say or hear. Some of these things can and will cause hurt. But if you repeatedly withhold that Truth, deprive a person of it – you’ll see what you have left in the end…


Sense and Sensibility

Once again I’ve let time get the best of me, and I miss writing something. Anything. At almost noon on a Saturday morning with housework and errands poking me on the shoulder, I’m reminded one again of that time thing. About two weeks or so ago, I wrote a quick post on my thoughts of crime and mental instability in the world – but never got around to posting it. I guess a day in which time is pressing hard on me is as good a day as any.

I’ve only read a little bit on the case of Jared Lee Loughner, the man who went on the mass killing spree in Toucson, AZ back in January. As of current, he has been declared mentally incompetent to stand trial for his crimes.

When I first heard of this ruling, I admit my initial reaction was that the world needed rid of this worthless piece of garbage – I was very angry. I had to stop for a minute, take a step back and look hard at the situation. If this man really is mentally incompetent, how could I hold any animosity towards him for that? If it’s truly something mental that dictated his actions, something he himself could not control – how on earth could I blame him?

There are so many psychological issues we have to deal with in the world now. Have these ultra-complex issues actually existed the entire time, of which our medical technology is just now scratching the surface? There’s so much out there in the world now that we don’t understand, things we’ll probably never understand. The human brain is the most intensely complex organ in our body. From mild, moderate to severe – mental instabilities weigh more in our society now than ever before.

During a routine visit to my MD recently, even he admitted there just wasn’t enough medical staff dedicated to the many branches of mental illness that we now know to exist. He said because of this, he and his other colleagues are continually having to ‘up their game’ on their education. This is where we are in the world today – not enough professional help, nor understanding of illnesses or imbalances.

When someone who does a wrong or injustice to another, the human in us wants that person to be held accountable. Unless you are specifically trained in the field, it’s difficult or impossible to recognize a mental illness. Simply said, there are many people committing crimes who are not capable of willfully controlling their actions. All you have to do is watch the world news, heck I’ll take a step back and say local news, to see all the senseless crimes being committed.

I must continually remind myself to tote an extra bit of compassion around just for this cause, and I’ll be the first to admit it’s a tough thing to do.


Ode to a Grown Man

I’d like to eventually have/make more time to spend on reading other’s blogs. It’s something I really enjoy, particularly the ones of those who take their own precious time to comment on mine. With all the stuff I’ve had going on with moving, work and the likes of everything else, my hope is to get settled in soon and do just that – consistently. I’m amazed at the talent that each of you have – whether it be through writing, arts, or a combination of both. It inspires my own desire to do better. I thank each of you for that.

In updating my blog roll tonight, once again I had heavy thoughts of a certain individual in our blogging world. This is someone that I miss very much – known as Grown Man (as self-referred, GM). It’s for this reason I chose to profile Grown Man in this post today. If you’ve never visited his blog, why not hop on over and read a few excerpts. Click the ‘list’ link for more options. I can guarantee you’ll have to break yourself away from it.

Grown Man has not posted since November of 2010. Prior to that, his fairly frequent posts were eloquent, vivacious and packed full of wisdom. Although geared mainly towards the male genre, his content inspired males and females alike. His own hilarity paired with common sense insight on the male psyche made for some darn good reading and entertainment… not to mention education. He remained ever-kind in his replies, to which he always gave. I’ve always been a sucker for that kindness trait. The love he had for his wife was evident, not exactly spelled out – rather something that was apparent between the lines. I deeply respect his writing style.

I do worry about what may have happened to him, at the risk of sounding silly. Did he meet a dreadful fate… or did he abandon it for a chance of a lifetime, moving on to a bigger and better thing? I’ve googled to no avail to find out what might have happened, having noticed his twitter feed has also been abandoned. He had the potential to be HUGE, and was already getting there fast. Over 188K hits with less than 80 entries – this thing grew pretty quick, my friends. It’s obvious by reading the comments on his last post that his readers really miss him.

I’ll continue to have Grown Man appear on my blogroll because I prefer his legacy to live on, even if not ongoing. I agree with one of the last commenters who stated, appropriately: We miss you, Grown Man. 

Grown Man’s Blog (or, just click the picture above)

Footnote: Even my Keith enjoyed reading GM’s posts, and he’s not usually into reading blogs unless he’s coerced into reading mine, cough-cough. 🙂


An Effective Search

I had the instance to google a word yesterday. I found my results lacking, so I went back and added a few more descriptive or supporting words to aid in my endeavor.

BAM.

There it was, like magic – website after website all neatly lined up in a row, most of them containing the pertinent information or knowledge I’d sought after.

This got me to thinking about something really quite simple. The more sharpened your search is, the more likely you are to have successful results. Such is life. The more positive input you add to something – be it a relationship, a friendship, a job, whatever the case – the more you should end up getting out of it.

Of course this is said while realizing things don’t always turn out to benefit you in the end. Circumstances might determine a final result. People can and will disappoint you. Sometimes the reason a person lets you down is no fault of their own. Things change… life happens. The bottom line is this – the more you give out, the more you put into something, the more you will generally get back as a result.

I have my good and bad days just like everybody else. I laugh, I cry, I hope, I try; I hurt, I need, I fear, I bleed. Truth is, I’d rather be considered an optimist than a pessimist any day of the week.

You get what you give… so give good. 


Mouseworks

How I’ve missed my little blog – both reading others and writing them. Things have been extremely busy my way with moving, and I can’t wait to reaccustom myself to a more permanent schedule once again. I thought it would make everything easier having 2+ months to pack, get everything out and clean… but it seems as though I’ve been going back and forth now for way longer than I should! I’m finally convinced doing it all in one day is the way to go.

All weekend we worked over at my place and now, thankfully I can say I’m pretty much done. I still have to get the washer/dryer out to store for my daughter and find a home for my couch. K has worked his rear off the entire time, and cleaning should now be a cinch since the place is now empty! I did happen across a most precious commodity (ahem) for my cat Camille, that made her very very happy.

Meet my mousse! (Mousse because Mademoiselle Camille has always pronounced the word in French.) The Little Girl has been reunited with her long-lost BFF who has been MIA for at least a year and a half. Maybe longer. How old is this thing, you ask? Oh, I realize it looks like it was resurrected from the caveman era. But to Cam… it’s a thing of sheer beauty. A huge basket full of toys is no match for this one item sent straight from Heaven. She’s carrying her baby around again while talking, then dropping it for daddy to play fetch. She is one Happy Girl.

A view of the front of Keith’s. Note: it now comes complete with it’s own set of nightlites located in bottom left window…

I actually went to type a blog out last night, and in addition to all the nerve-wracking hustle and bustle of moving noticed my mouse (MY mouse, one S) was all but operable. I had to go out and purchase another one after work today. I guess I’ve been behind-the-times until now, because I’ve always had a corded mouse. At last I made the ‘jump’ and opted (pardon the pun) for a ‘new improved one’. That is, one that is non-corded.

Left: old one… Right: new-improved (non-corded) one. My hand hardly knows what to do with something so very small in comparison – but I’m finding it ever-functional.

So who gets the points on the cat’s eyes being covered up??


Jigsaw

Recently, a friend of mine posed a question that captured my attention – so much so, that I decided to grab the question by it’s hand and take it for a little walk.

Have you ever worked a puzzle only to find that when the pieces start coming together you start seeing a picture you really don’t want to see?

Why yes B, I have. In my own life, there have been times where I spent much longer on a puzzle than I should have. Times where I tried hard to convince myself there were no missing pieces, or pieces that neither fit nor belonged. An imperfect puzzle, if you will. Admittedly, there were times where I would ‘cheat’, having shaved a bit off here and there in hopes I would make a piece fit. To make the puzzle whole.

Weird as it may sound, starting a brand new puzzle can be a difficult and trying thing. Here you have all these tiny little pieces with no real beginning. Just like anything that’s worth the effort – it requires effort. Slowly, intricately, you embark on a journey of building something whole from a thousand little scattered pieces. You set aside pieces that might match up later, or have a similar color/pattern. You take mental snapshots of different shapes. Slowly, methodically… it begins to form.

Upon completion of an intact puzzle, your patience and perseverance is hopefully rewarded with something pretty or at least pleasurable to look at – not something ugly. So what happens when you work halfway through a puzzle then begin to see something unspeakable taking form? Your first notion might be to push the thought of it away – it simply couldn’t be. You work through a few more pieces, and oh –

Couldn’t be. Hope it’s not…

Maybe the situation’s new to you and you’re shocked. Perhaps you’ve been there before and aren’t. Or, could be you’ve been there before, but you’re still shocked. You may ask yourself, how could something you’ve worked that hard on, invested that much time in – turn out to be a picture of something you don’t want to look at, for whatever reason.

Just a day in the life of a jigsaw.


Stormy nights

After more storms whisked through the south the night before last, the current estimated time of power restoration has been moved from 5pm last night to 5pm tonight. What’s up with the south and all these destructive storms this year? The thunder, lightning, wind and rain of this storm out-did all other storms so far. Even the hailstorm didn’t have these kind of damaging winds and lightning… it only pounded things into oblivion. We’re supposed to get more storms through Tuesday, so I guess it’s time to batten down the hatches.

Thank goodness I still have my apartment, albeit one with no bed. It does still have a/c (a must in the south in May) and cable tv (a must since it was Survivor night and I’ve never missed an episode). With these two amenities calling us, Keith packed up a few things and our spoiled kitty Camille, and met me over at my apartment. He even thought to bring my bp meds – whatta guy that man is. 🙂

I must admit that I was a little sad I’d unknowingly spend my last night in my apartment last Thursday night. We’d decided to carry my bed over on a whim last Sunday, meaning there was no ‘reflection time’ assigned to my last night spent there. This power outage was a hidden blessing. I found it only befitting that I got to spend just one more night there, with both my man and my little animal. So the palette on the floor did just fine.

My friend Shawn over at Happy Publishing posted this today. Although it’s been around a while, it’s a few great reminders of how to make the world a little more livable. I found it more than worthy of a repost.

  • Do not contradict people, even if you are sure you are right.
  • Do not be inquisitive about the affairs of even your most intimate friend.
  • Do not underrate anything because you do not possess it.
  • Do not believe all the evil you hear.
  • Do not repeat gossip, even if it does interest a crowd.
  • Do not jeer at anyone’s religious belief.
  • Learn to hide your aches and pains under a pleasant smile; few care whether you have an earache, headache, or rheumatism.
  • Learn to attend to your own business – a very important point.
  • Do not try to be anything else but a gentleman or a lady; and that means one who has consideration for the whole world, and all races.

~Unknown


Instant Karma (okay, maybe it wasn’t INSTANT…)

♫♪  Instant Karma’s gonna get you –
Gonna look you right in the face
Better get yourself together darlin’
and join the human race…

Greedy greedy greedy. My oh my – this world could use so much less of the word greed, couldn’t it? But such is the age we’re currently living in, and honestly I don’t see any improvement in store for the near future.

Once in a while, the good guy actually DOES win. Once in a very small while, we get to witness Karma come back around and bite hard a person in the ass who has so totally asked for it.

An example, you ask? I’m sure I can find one lying low around here somewhere… yes, I’ve got it. How about a lying cheat of an ex who for years tried so very hard to ruin a man’s life and everything good within it, up to and including keeping his daughter from him?

For this post – I shall refer to the individual as lowlife.

No truth can come from lowlife’s putrid mouth, for truth must first exist in order to pass through parted lips. History tells of lowlife’s many infidelities, to which the knob is still set on ‘repeat’. Concerning her own destructive self-destructive antics, lowlife reassigns any and all blame to her ex. I look at it this way… if you’re going to be conniving, at least be good at it. Her transparent lies were easily read by the most high of courts, who awarded lowlife with nothing.

TWICE.

Nada. Zilch. Zip. Zero. OH WAIT – it’s actually much less than nothing, seeing as how lowlife was grabbing for the entire universe. Can’t forget about those costly attorney fees that belong solely to her now, not to mention that expensive appeal. I have heard those things aren’t cheap nowadays! Is there such a thing as double-ought? If there wasn’t before, there is now. Well that’s just gotta plain suck…

The most insincere of congratulations go out to lowlife for all her non-valiant efforts on a job not well done. My advice to lowlife now would be to invest in a broom (no, not to ride) and dustpan with which to begin cleaning all the droppings she’s left behind, as well as many more she’s sure to excrete in the future. Because a respectable person always cleans up their mess.

Let us not forget the old but wise quote, ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’. Or woman’s, as the case may be. Hey, speaking of universe… I’m outta here to go see the shining sun of mine. 🙂

Well we all shine on…
Like the moon and the stars and the sun
Yeah we all shine on
On and on and on and on…