This past weekend was one of the most awesomely relaxing weekends in a long time. Did I mention it was a three-dayer? It started Thursday night (I had taken Friday off for the Royal Wedding). Keith had to drag my a** out of bed at 4am to see it – honestly I would’ve missed it if he hadn’t. It was my first attempt at a ‘live-tweet’ for an event such as this… I realize this is very minute to most people, but I can reflect back on it myself and smile. That’s the big thing for me – the memories.
Watched a couple movies recommended by a friend this weekend, both older but awesome.Red Dawn with Patrick Swayze and Charlie Sheen, and Double Jeopardy with Ashley Judd and Tommy Lee Jones. I can’t say I was blown away by Red Dawn, primarily because it was compared to Shawshank Redemption, which I thought it not even close. Shawshank is EPIC and an all-time fave of mine. But Double Jeopardy – just wow. I could definitely watch that one again.
Saturday we bought some flowers and such for the yard, and spent a good bit of time arranging and planting them. We have a couple of ferns hanging from the porch now and a gorgeous Calibrachoa hanging basket (the flowers look like vibrant mini-petunias). My bright idea was to make a little flower bed surrounding the mailbox at the end of the yard, and we decided on begonias for this. It’s sparse right now, but it’ll grow… Keith’s sister even joked that it must look like a girl is living here now. 🙂
Today there was finally a televised NYY game on – they’re very rare. After a couple of hours of sun, we both opted for a late-afternoon nappiepoo game-front. I love afternoon naps. If the opportunity would present itself a little more often, trust me I would partake. There’s just nothing better – well, almost nothing better.
Finally, today K and I opened a forgotten carton of strawberries we’d gotten at the store Friday… and noticed a label that read “Limited Edition – Fresh California Strawberries”. Being that I’m very attentive to labels, it caught my attention. Limited Edition, seriously? Strawberries? Upon washing, slicing, sprinkling with sugar and sampling, we were looking at each other with owl eyes and saying WTF? Those were the best strawberries I’ve ever had the pleasure of having in my mouth. (Taking note that I never even ate a strawberry until 2.75 years ago when my friend Lori and her son Matt fed me one at a farmers market.) Still… earthshatteringly delectable; blogworthy for sure.
This back and forth stuff between my place and Keith’s is taking it’s toll on me. There’s so much to be done before I move! K suggested this weekend just going ahead and bringing my bed over (going in a middle room) this way I can’t go back there to sleep during the week. My reasoning for not doing this is I’ll never get packed if I’m not there at night to do it. Now – my mind is recalculating. I pass right by my place anyway to and from work, it might actually work better. I made the decision a week ago for Camille to reside with him instead of toting her back and forth – she’s had a year and a half of that and that’s enough. Hmmm. If I said the word, that gorgeous man would be right over with a truck to load up my bed sporting a big smile. So is it really that hard of a decision for me?
Oh yeah, and bin laden is dead. Supposedly. I’ll save all that for another time, another place… another blog.
Amidst the daily life struggles, including controversy, drama and in-general mean and miserable people – there is a bright spot I have looked forward to for some time now. An event in which I’ve taken the entire day off from work to enjoy watching.
I’ve always enjoyed reading other people’s comments when it comes to a subject of interest. Over the past few days, a good many comments astound me. The British Monarchy’s facebook page created an event for the Royal Wedding. How about such negative comments on that as “I’ll bet 79% couldn’t give a toss about the wedding” or “So sick of hearing about this, move on to something else already.”
Seriously? You’re sick of hearing about it but you’re going to take initiative to write about how sick of it you are? That takes precious time, my friend! Newsflash – you liked the British Monarchy’s facebook page to begin with… what do you expect to read about?? The news channels are the absolute worst. Every time something is posted about the Royal Wedding, negative comments come flooding in. Have the majority of these les miserables really become so curmudgeoned to the daily routine of life that they are unable to appreciate a good love story anymore?
Maybe it’s just me, but that’s how I see it – and such is life. As for me, this old romantic shall remain upbeat and continue to appreciate a monumentally happy event. After all, who couldn’t use a little happiness?
K was supposed to get his daughter over the weekend. In talking to her last night, she told him she really wanted to spend time with her boyfriend. Although he was disappointed, he told her sure. He understands what comes first in a 14-yr old girls life – friends and boys. It’s not been so long ago that my own daughter was that age, and once upon a time I was that teenager, too.
I understand that K and his ex had a difficult divorce. I’m also well aware of how she kept his daughter from him for almost 2 years of her life, and how much he missed her. When all is said and done, a 2-year wedge is hard to remove. What I don’t understand is this. WHY can’t parents share a common ground when it comes to the child they supposedly love so much? To me, it’s selfish – plain and simple. I’ll say it again because it very much bears repeating – SELFISH. It accomplishes nothing but hurting your child. An example, you ask? Well, here ya go.
Last year, Keith, his daughter, my daughter and I went to the local theme park. That same day he was sweet enough to buy all four of us season passes for the following (2011) year. Since we live so close, he figured it a great investment for an entire summer of fun. While on the phone with his daughter last night, she mentioned that her mother was getting her a season pass. K asked why, that she already had one and didn’t need it. She replied that her mother wasn’t going to let her bring her pass to his house when it was ‘his weekend’. He said, ‘but you won’t have to, because you’ll have the one I bought you – why would you need two passes?’ She never could really answer why. You see, he has no problem with her using her pass whenever she wants… that includes when she’s at home with mom. It’s hers. He bought it for her unconditional use. Apparently, mom’s rules are a bit skewed.
I can only go by past antics, but when ‘his weekend’ rolls around his daughter might show up with no pass (the one he bought) because mom won’t allow her to bring it.
Rule #253… no fun allowed at dad’s, ever.
So now what? Will K be forced to keep the pass at his house, so she’ll have one when he gets her for the weekend? Seriously… what benefit could this whole thing possibly have for their daughter? More importantly, what lesson could it be teaching her?
Aside from the obvious… how about ‘how to waste money the most economical way possible’? Yeah. Hats off to ya there.
Recently I came across a video that made quite an impression on me, and I’d like to share it with you this morning. Most of you already know that I’m one of the world’s biggest romantics. In fact, I thought I might be the biggest – up until now.
If you haven’t seen this… please take a few quiet minutes and check it out. It’s filled my heart with such joy. The story of Danny and Annie Perasa — how they met, and how they stayed in love for twenty-seven years — continues to inspire those who hear it. You can read more about them here.
And yes, this kind of love is still out there. Amazing.
I’m looking so forward to my move, I really am. The emotions that come with this move are high, though – higher than those who would be making that ‘generic’ move from one place to another. To me, the home I currently reside in represents the beginning of a brand new life following a failed marriage of 21 years. This home I’m in – it’s a staple in my life. It might seem weird to most of you, but I actually knew shortly after I moved here that if and when the time came to ever leave, it would be more than emotionally challenging. Of course back then, I couldn’t even imagine there would come a time when I would leave.
But the time is coming. It’s all so surreal. Slowly but surely, I’m gathering everything together.
I ran out of paper towels last night, so I went to fetch an extra roll. I realized it would probably be the last roll of paper towels that I would ever replenish here. The forest beyond me has morphed into my very favorite look… it’s like an artist has taken their tiny brush and dab dab dabbed little hints of green on the ends of all the branches.
All of the forest is flourishing. Each new spring, this continues to represent promise and hope to me. It’s so very beautiful. The deer will make their nightly trek through the woods, on time nearly every night. Soon I’ll hear the nightly hum of boats cruising the lake again, for a short while…
I have to accept the fact these are the last times that I’ll be gazing at this beautiful forest I’ve called my own for 3 years. Honestly, just opening an empty cupboard in the kitchen can make my eyes well up.
It’s surreal. In fact to me, this is the epitome of surreal.
We’ve all been caught in an embarrassing position. A scene that, much to our chagrin, turns us red quicker than a freshly boiled lobster. Being caught in a sticky situation makes you wish you could just melt away from it… oh, if it were only that easy.
At this point, I find it very comical that the subject of my last post was about a wedding.
A week ago, my boyfriend’s dear aunt passed away. I never had the pleasure of meeting her, a real shame since I’ve heard many people speak so very highly of her. Realizing a funeral isn’t the optimal situation to meet your boyfriend’s family members, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to meeting a few that were coming in from out of state.
In the last few moments before we left, we were saying our final goodbyes. From the beginning, there’s been nothing but positive input and vibes from his family – always making me feel so welcomed. Then, here it comes. (Folks, it took me such by surprise that I can’t remember the exact words used… so I’ll do my best to paraphrase.) Something was asked about how long K and I had been together, to which I replied going on two years now. The conversation ensued from there…
Family member: Oh, you ought to just go ahead and get married.
Me: *red*red* **oh, hail, miss brightass-red** I look over at said family member, shaking my head ever so slightly left-to-right in attempt to avert the subject (wondering which direction my dear K’s sight was aimed as well). I also mouth a NO. Unfortunately, I now realize that this mega-defensive act was likely perceived as a sign that old Bon never again wishes to wed… which of course isn’t the case.
Family member: Oh c’mon… you know you want to!
Me: *screaming to myself on the inside, ‘WHAT DO I DO??’* So I stammer: ohhh… well – we ARE moving in together this summer… **another desperate attempt to thwart said subject matter** (Immediately I realize I could not have picked a more inappropriate time to mention our moving in together… a family funeral, of all things.)
Ugghh… another epic Bon FAIL.
The truth is, I have very strong feelings on the subject. A couple of my close friends feel the same as I do, for very valid reasons. In another lifetime many years ago, I was the first to ‘suggest’ marriage with my now ex-husband – I was two months with child at the time. As the years went along, many of our arguments would result in him ‘reminding’ me of this. Trust me when I say these instances never added any valuable building blocks to the relationship – instead it only allowed hurt and embarrassment to grow and fester within me. The backlash of a southern ‘shotgun wedding’ via the good old Justice of the Peace in York County, SC seemed to always be on the forefront of his mind.
Never again. This is something that can make you feel unworthy for a lifetime.
No, if it ever happens again, it won’t be coming from my mouth. I made a pact with myself a long time ago that I’d never utter words that even hint of it – no siree Bob. Besides, why would I need to when others do it for me?
I did it… I indulged myself. Call me crazy if you will, though I personally prefer the word romantic. This past Monday, I put in for a vacation day on April 29th. This is the date of the Royal Wedding.
Having had ancestors that hailed from Wales, as well as certain parts of Scotland and Ireland, the Royal Family has always held a special place in my heart. Truth be told, in my own lifetime, I believe it all started with Diana. Of course it started with Diana. Was there a person in existence who didn’t love her? She was the epitome of grace, dignity and beauty – with a kind and caring heart. Her tragic death was a blow to the world.
I’ll never forget where I was when I heard the news. My husband, daughter and I were at the beach celebrating our tenth anniversary. That dreaded news, which we’d stayed up late in apprehension of, came during the wee hours of Sunday morning. I had to wear shades to hide my hideously swollen eyes for the remainder of the trip. These memories are still as fresh as if they’d happened just yesterday.
On his eighteenth birthday, Prince William received from his grandmother a new coat of arms, or crest. He chose to commemorate his mother by including a red scallop shell (escallop gules) prominent in the Spencer ancestors’ coats of arms, four times on his – though one must have sharp eyes to catch it. I’ve always loved what we usually refer to as a ‘sea shell’, but never knew of the association with Princess Diana’s own crest or of the commemoration by her son. I find this so very special.
Prince William and his beautiful bride Catherine Middleton (Kate) will have their own fairy-tale wedding on that last Friday in April. I like to think that Diana will somehow be granted a view of her first-born son and his Princess as they begin their life’s journey together as one.
On March 2nd, the website designed for the Royal Wedding was unveiled. Needless to say, I wasted no time popping that little address into my VIP bookmarklets.
So happy for the two of them…
I was talking to my mother last night, and the topic of worry came up. After some discussion as to some things that were bothering me, she asked ‘Where does it get you, really? And what does it accomplish?’ I had no answer.
I know prayer is the main key when you’re feeling overwhelmed, but I confess it doesn’t always quell the worry inside me. Of course all a person has to do when they feel the weight of the world on their shoulders is look around – for there’s always someone very near who has it a lot worse. It’s not that it makes you feel better – just lets you know that you’re not alone, and that perhaps what you have going on pales in comparison to theirs.
Worry can come from a variety of things. Too many bills, not enough money. A sick relative. Being unemployed. Health problems of your own. Drug or alcohol addiction of yourself or a loved one. Being bullied at school. Being bullied at work. A variety of these or other things can be a constant source of a knotting stomach and intense worry, as well as a variety of other emotions.
A long time ago, when I was just a kid, I found this religious tract somewhere that stated something along the lines of “Why Worry?? Don’t be a smudgepot!!” What was the meaning of this? I have no earthly idea other than saying not to worry, that we should let God handle things in His way. I remember my Mother and Grandmother seemed so impressed that I’d hit on such an integral subject at what appeared to be a much-needed time. I often think about that tract, and wish that I had it now so that I may fully absorb it’s contents. Something tells me the value within it’s pages was priceless.
I was browsing through bookmarks yesterday and was surprised to find my ‘Letter to my Sixteen-Year-Old Self’ was still on the front page of the Simon and Schuster site. I realize this is because nothing else has been posted since they posted mine, but gotta admit – I still like seeing it…
Me: so uh, I’ve been wondering… could I act all crazy like some Hollywood dude is doing right now and get my writing noticed?
Voice of reality: *clearing throat* uhhh, no Bon – see, you have to be famous beforehand for that to work.
sheer sheen entertainment purposes, I thought I’d share a copy of Charlie’s most recent tweet. I’ll have to say I’ve been enjoying the literary stance he’s taking…
Happy Friday, everyone!! 🙂
It seems like the days are few and far between now when we hear these words used.
Have you ever been present when someone actually takes offense to being called sir or ma’am? Sometimes a person reacts so strongly that they make you feel like you did something wrong. In my experience, most have been female. A while back I heard a woman react horribly to a young lad for simply being courteous. “I’ll have you know I am not old enough to be a ma’am, young man!” she retorted. The boy looked crushed and didn’t know what to say to her. I’ll never forget how hard it was to resist kicking her teeth in at that very moment. With one swipe of her sharp tongue, she successfully crapped on ten years of respectful upbringing. At the very least, she planted doubt in the method.
I call a female ma’am. I’ll call a gentleman sir. It’s not just a southern thing. Sometimes they’re older than me – sometimes they’re younger. I don’t and won’t ever consider it a slam. You see, to me it’s not about age at all – just plain old respect.
How about the kids today? Okay, not all, just most. At least the ones in my city, USA. GIMMIE!!!! NOW!!!! Hey kid… a please will likely get you that lollipop you’re screaming so loudly for in Cracker Barrel. And not if but when your parent gives in and buys you that thing you’re screaming for – how about a thank you? And whatever happened to excuse me? Excuse me’s come more in the form of an eye-roll nowadays. Yeah, you get my drift – all these words are grossly underused. Sadly enough, manners are simply becoming a thing of the past.
Come to think of it, I think we just might benefit from a Sir/Ma’am/Please/Thank You/Excuse Me University. Starting at Pre-K.
Yes sir. Errr, ma’am…
An end result can hit you in the face with the same impact as a thrown brick, even if it’s something that’s been coming on for a while. Especially if it’s been coming on for a while, since the inevitable seems to lay dormant even more so.
The emotions of a mirrored past are thick – but flow swiftly, and justly. Even so, they lie bare and open to the focus of others. We often feel the need to either avert, hide or thwart these emotions (thanks, human nature). Therefore, once we’re faced with the reality of finality, BAM!! there goes that brick to the cheek.
Where and when one door closes, another has usually already opened – or is waiting to. This ever-wise quote has provided comfort to many, myself included. I do hope it provides that same comfort to those who might read this.
The finalities in life aren’t always as we might perceive them. Just as a brook or waterfall continually recycles itself… finality may also serve as a means to better yourself as an individual. To protect and heighten your own standards. The chance now exists to persuade your own self of going that extra mile. To further yourself in a way you never thought possible… to perhaps exceed your own expectations.
The new season of Survivor is premiering on CBS tonight – I can’t wait!! The show simply never gets old to me. This season is set in Nicaragua and promises to be the most grueling season of earth, wind and fire that we’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing in any of the past eleven years.
Haters, be gone. Tonight I will have my undisturbed 60 minutes of unparalleled HD reality bliss… bring it!!
After about a years worth of failed attempts to reach me through texts, I received an innocent enough email from an old acquaintance. It’d been over two years since I’d even seen the guy, and it’s not like a real friendship or anything ever existed. I did what I thought was the right thing – I politely replied back, informed him I no longer had that phone number, and saw no point for further contact between us. I wished him the best, and gave my regards.
The next morning, he had sent an email apologizing twice for ‘bothering me’ – that he’d gotten married, and ‘was going to tell me so if the conversation arose’.
If the conversation arose? WTF does that mean?
Thing is, I found out after the few times I’d seen him years ago that he already had a girlfriend on the side. Recalling that memory got me thinking – if he’s married now… why on earth is he still contacting numbers that reside within his back pocket? I’m just asking…
I would so hate to find out my husband was contacting other women. I know sometimes there are extenuating circumstances, like maybe where a friendship is involved, etc. – but trust me when I say this is not one of those times.
Dude… do the right thing and throw away all those old numbers. You don’t need ’em anymore…
It’s not gonna be difficult for me to find a subject for me to hop on today…
It’s Groundhog Day, and for the first time in a long awaited while Punxsutawney Phil is not afraid… that’s right folks, NO SHADOW!! Know what that means?
Spring is near!! Spring is near!! Oh gosh… Spring is near!!
The story of Groundhog Day begins with Candlemas, an early Christian holiday where candles were blessed and distributed. Celebrators of the holiday eventually declared clear skies on Candlemas meant a longer winter. The Roman legions, during the conquest of the northern country, brought this tradition to the Germans, who concluded that if the sun made an appearance on Candlemas Day, a hedgehog would cast a shadow, thus predicting six more weeks of bad weather or “Second Winter.” German immigrants brought the tradition to Pennsylvania, but how did Punxsutawney Phil emerge?
In 1887, a spirited group of groundhog hunters from Punxsutawney dubbed themselves “The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club.” One member was an editor of Punxsutawney’s newspaper. Using his ink, he proclaimed Punxsutawney Phil, the local groundhog, to be the one and only weather prognosticating groundhog. He issued this proclamation on Candlemas, and yes, Groundhog Day. Phil’s fame spread, and newspapers from around the globe began to report his Gobbler’s Knob prediction. Info from http://www.visitpa.com/groundhog-day
In related news, February 2nd is exactly the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It is the winter midpoint or ‘cross-quarter’ day. The coldest, bleakest part of our winter season is now officially half over!
Spring is near!! Spring is near!! Oh gosh… Spring is near!
It really is the little things in life that I appreciate the most and seem to please me to no end. Bear with me on this for just a minute.
When I find something I really like, I stick with it. No use fixing something that’s not broken, I always say – take for instance my anti-bac. For years now, I’ve been an avid user of the ‘waterless’ smell-good foaming pump anti-bac by Bath and Body Works. (Note empty bottle to right.) This little 3″ smell-good pump generally lasts me around six months, for which I generally have backups on-hand when the time comes to replace.
Except this time.
So off I go to hit the local Bath and Body Works store on the way home from work… with the addition of my custom BBW Bon-Blinders so I may leave the store with only the anti-bac and nothing else additional.
Now where oh where is my foaming anti-bac? I noticed the newfangled little pocket gel-pacs that require lots of shaking, squeezing and patience to get anything out of… but not my easy little one-squirt smell-good pump. To my dismay, the saleslady informed me they were discontinued, then even proceeded to knock the ‘old’ product by saying ‘they leaked’. I told her in all my years of using, one had never leaked on me. So go knock on my product with someone else, lady.
I went home, checked their website and ended up ordering a slew of them online. Gotta love that online ordering! Mind you, I will have more than several ‘backups’ on hand once they arrive… all lined up in a smell-good rainbow-colored array.
It’s the law of Bon, I swear… if I like something, it will be discontinued. My favorite brand of Clinique foundation fell victim just last month. Prior to that, my favorite Lean Cuisine meal.
Hey Bon, would you like some cheese with that whine??
Have you ever thought about the old saying ‘actions speak louder than words’? I’ve thought about it quite a bit lately. It points out the fact that while people may say one thing, their actions may be saying something quite different – and throughout time, a persons actions tend to give a better indication of their true nature.
Reflecting back on prior lessons learned, I know that we can usually relate this to relationships. Sometimes you feel so very certain about your future or how someone else feels about you, and then something crystal clear is presented. It may be something you’ve ignored for a while, perhaps even grown accustomed to throughout time. It could have been a question that was raised before, only to be brushed back under the rug.
Just like time itself.
I’ve had much rest this past holiday season. The joy has been tremendous and the stress very minimal. However, even a beautiful post-holiday beach vacation to bring in the New Year isn’t enough to keep the blood pressure level in check for ole’ Bon. Apparently the second med that was added a couple of weeks ago was an Epic Fail. In lieu of waiting for that one month follow-up visit, I called Doc up yesterday morning. After another failed attempt on acquiring correct triage information between 4-5 phone conversations throughout the day, the last of the conversations went something like this.
Medical Assistant: Dr. Yadada has faxed in a new prescription that’s waiting for you at Your-Pharmacy, USA – you are to immediately quit your current bp meds and replace with this new ‘combination’ prescription.
Bon: What, a combination? So he said to cease taking the blah-blah? Wait – does this new ‘combination’ rx contain a beta-blocker, like the blah-blah I’ve been on for thirteen years?
Medical Assistant: I’m not sure.
Bon: I don’t think Dr. Yadada would just pull me off a beta-blocker which I’ve been on for thirteen years that’s pertinent to my survival. Just the last visit, he told me I’ll be on this one for the rest of my life. Think you could double-check with him?
Medical Assistant: Hmm… from what he said I’m thinking he meant come off of all your prior bp meds and immediately replace with this new one that’s a combo.
Bon: *Shock* Well, what’s the name of it, I’ll see if I can look it up.
Medical Assistant: I don’t really (really??) have access to that, as I don’t work in clinical.
(NOTE: ‘I don’t work in clinical’ most likely translates to ‘I don’t know what the f**k I’m talking about medically’. The title Medical Assistant assigned to her by yours truly is more than likely a very generous title.)
Bon: Look lady. One day off the beta-blocker could literally mean a stroke or worse for me. This is my LIFE we’re talking about here. I don’t want to hear what ‘you’re thinking’. I want to know what HE’S thinking.
Medical Assistant: Okay Ms. (cough-cough) Bitch, I’ll see if I can reach him again and verify if not all, which rx you are to replace with the new one.
You can probably guess the outcome. I was to remain on my beta-blocker and the new ‘combination’ one was once again an addition. It took the remainder of the day for me to calm down from this little ditty. With competent souls like this getting paid to look after your healthfare, will someone please tell me who the heck needs enemies?
2010… it’s hard to believe it’s already over! Once again, it’s time for me make my year-end picks. I must pick my word of the year, and a meaningful new banner picture – something that I can look at for an entire year without getting sick of it. For those of you who missed it last year, here’s the link to New Year, New Beginnings Part I.
Even after a full year of looking at my banner pic, I’m sad to see it go. The below collage was made from all things I love, and I think the visual description alone pretty much says it all. Five little things at a glance that describe me.
For every year since the start of my ‘new life’, I’ve donned a single word that seems to most closely correspond with what that year meant to me. This whole word thing started pretty innocently in 2008, when I reflected back and chose the word Monumental. 2008 was the year I grew a backbone, or I’d like to think part of one – and walked that plank in search of a new life. The word I chose for 2009 was Colorful. 2009 was the year of
mistakes growing for me. The chance to experience many, many firsts and new things, as well as learning truckloads about my own self.
On to my word of 2010. Drum Roll Please…
Serene. Isn’t that nice? I even like the way it looks. True, it doesn’t pack a punch like Monumental does. It doesn’t make the mind wonder what the hell I’ve been up to like Colorful does. It’s simple. The way my year was. Simple, easy… predictable. And, predictable can be a very good thing.
There’s also something else – something I honestly hadn’t contemplated until after I’d already chosen my word. As a young girl, I decided I didn’t like my name. My fix was, much to my Mother’s chagrin, ‘changing’ it to one of my own choosing. My choice was Serena. I was often asked ‘oh you mean Selena?’ ‘No’, I would say, ‘Serena.’ I could never explain exactly why I loved this name, and I even used it as my own signature until a teacher told me I couldn’t do it anymore. I was crushed! Such a beautiful name that was just slightly beyond my reach. Of course I grew out of this ‘phase’, but even in reflecting back, I remember how good the name made me feel when I used it as my own. (I also used to go around with a bright yellow turtleneck attached to my head, pretending I had long flowing blonde hair… but that’s another story. I blame all that on the Barbies.)
I like to think that after this year… I’ve finally found myself. Because, I actually feel ‘Serene’.
I believe I’ve finally found Serena.
I’d like to wish a Happy New Year to all of you. May it be a year of good health, prosperity, peace and unity for us all – God bless.
Well, actually it came by way of the 5 o’clock news this evening.
There’s a strangeness that no one can quite put their finger on. In a suburb right outside of my lovely town, a little girl was photographed. By a stranger. Playing in the snow. Zipped up tight to her nose in fluffy coatings and wintry garb. That’s right folks, a picture was taken.
Let me say first, I’m not trying to make light of any sort of potentially dangerous situation, particularly that which involves a child. But I’ve gotta say, there are some things with this ‘story’ that just don’t jive well with me.
The story as told by an 8-year old girl starts with her playing down the street from her house, and looking up to see a man taking a snapshot of ‘her’. She ran home to tell her mother. Mom is then broadcast all over the evening news rolling her eyes and saying “the thought of a sick, perverted man having a picture of my daughter infuriates me”. Every. Ten. Minutes. Well yeah lady, I have a daughter. That particular thought would infuriate me too.
Let’s say for the sake of argument – there was this man going down the road with his wife driving (the little girl reported he was in the passenger seat – with no description of the driver) who decided to take a few rare southern snow pics, like I had the urge to do my own self today. The little girl (or other children) just happened to be in the general vicinity of where the camera was faced. Hell, it’s happened to me many times – I’ve just never been ‘accused’ of anything. But then again… I’m female. Hey, somebody had to say it…
Through many years of photography, I of course have my own photo library. Rather than a subject who happens to be laced, zipped and velcroed all the way up to their nostrils in the dead of winter – I’m quite sure a few of mine are on a public beach (Gasp**) in bathing suits! Certainly they weren’t the intended subjects of the frame – but what if they had been? This is what it’s come to. Yes, this. Here and now.
I must give credit to my Dad and his eagle-eye on this subject, as it was he who called and brought me up to speed on the said situation-at-hand. Yes, it’s pretty bad when you can’t be your normal self anymore. To be forced to avoid situations we’ve not only been accustomed to all our lives but have been raised to admire, respect and enjoy. Now we have to worry about staring a little too long, if at all… whether anything we say might be perceived as a prelude to an abduction… not to mention the subjects that might happen to be in the general vicinity of our cameras… need I even go on? And if you don’t worry about it… well you’d better worry about it. I don’t wish to downplay the possibility of a legitimate threat on this particular story. What I wish to up-play is the fact that we can’t snapshot a timeless moment anymore, without the fear of consequences.
Because this is where we are.
But Bon, where on earth is this irony you speak of? You really mucked this title up – wayyy off!!
Here we go, folks. In between sessions of Mom rolling her eyes and speaking of Joe Pedophile staring at photos of her little girl – a lighter, more airy segment flashed up where us viewers got the chance to see submitted photos of the snow aired on tonight’s edition of the local news. How sweet and funny they were, too – most submitted anonymously. Anything from snowmen, to sledding, to children playing, to pets playing, to…. hey BACK UP just a minute. Did you just say children playing????
IMHO the persons behind each of these two segments had to be on two different wavelengths, in two different buildings. In two different cities. With no communication tools. Ahem, you get my drift. Speaking of drifts…
Just be careful where and what you point those cameras at.
It’s not often that I watch television. When I do, I can count the shows I watch all on one hand, which aside from Survivor, consist of a little Nat Geo, History and Discovery channel. Last night, I got a real treat – I mean this one was really off the charts for me.
I was finishing wrapping presents and happened to have the tube on in the background, volume low – when I heard the David Letterman show come on. If I’m not already in bed, this would normally cue bedtime. Then they announced who the guests were.
Robert DeNiro and Dustin Hoffman. I’m a huge fan of both.
You may have seen the set of movies that the pair star in together often referred to as ‘The Fockers movies”. Meet the Parents came out in 2000, Meet the Fockers debuted in 2004, and released at theaters just this month was The Little Fockers. If you haven’t seen any of the movies and are a fan of the two, the movies are a must-see, one of my favorites. Here’s a trailer to the 2004 Meet the Fockers, in which the two sets of parents meet and ‘come together’. It’s an awesome cast including Ben Stiller and Barbara Streisand.
In Letterman’s entire career, DeNiro has never been on his show which made it even more special. Much to my delight, the entire hour ended up being theirs. As they introduced the pair, they walked out together and the audience went wild. The applause went on for what seemed like several minutes, which Letterman respectfully allowed. It gave me chills! Hoffman seemed pleased the entire applause, DeNiro laid back being his normal cool self. Once they started talking, it took about ten minutes for DeNiro to ‘warm up’ to Dave’s questions, again, first time ever on the show. Hoffman made jovial of everything which really seemed to help things out in that area. They talked about movies like The Graduate, Tootsie, Rainman, Casino, Goodfellas, Raging Bull, Taxi Driver and Godfather. I’m a big fan of the mob movies, always have been since I was a girl in school. Needless to say, most actors in this genre of filmmaking far surpass A-okay in my book – there’s too many of them to list (DeNiro and Pacino being my all-time faves).
It was a monumental show last night. This video showcases a few moments of the broadcast, only five minutes or so, but enough to give you the gist. Yeah, I’m starstruck once again. These guys have just never gotten old to me… and never will.