Life in the Sidebar (Part 3)

One of the sidebar items I think most people overlook is the Blog Archive listing. That's a shame because that's like a blogger's personal Wayback Machine. Every now and then, I look over some of my own older posts and I realize that the archive is a timeline of my life changes.

In prep for doing this series of posts, I glanced through some of my earlier ones. What I realize is that I was a better blogger when I wasn't trying so hard. Starting out, I wasn't really thinking about writing for anyone but myself. I need to get back to that. My older posts were funnier and more 'real'.

For people who do read my blog on a regular basis now, I think they would like the 'old' me. After I finish this Sidebar series, I'm going to literally copy/paste some of my favorite posts from the past.

If any of you do go back and check through the Archives, I'd love to know what you think about the way I used to write compared to now. For myself, the main thing I noticed is that (like everybody does), I've gone through stages that affect my attitude, outlook, and joy.

When I first started blogging - 11 years ago! -  I talked more about relationships and family. I guess that's because I was more interested in having a relationship back then. WAY back then (when I was ~gasp~ 45!), and I hadn't lost so many members of my family.

I did a lazy search and found out (on another blog, of course) that the average lifespan of a blog is around 100 days. I don't know how true that is. I told you I did a lazy search! But I know that most of the bloggers I started out following have since gone away. That's sad. I really, really loved a lot of blogs that are defunct now. I always wonder what happened to the blogger. Maybe they moved on to bigger projects? Only some of them still have Blogger profiles up. (When I looked up an old fave called The Brutha Code, all I could find was a page all in Japanese...??? So, WHERE are you, Brutha?)

I guess I should feel like a blogosphere survivor.

Anyway, if you get a chance, click back through the Archives. Like I said, I'll be re-posting some favorites soon.

Peace
Free

Life in the Sidebar (Part 2)

The sidebar items I personally like the most are the ones showing what I've been reading and watching. When I checked the other day, I realized that my Read & Loved List makes me appear more intelligent that my Watchlist.

My Reading list is varied and thoughtful My Watch list is that of a teenager...

Why it is that I tend to read like a more mature adult and yet, more often than not, watch some of the shallowest things on television?

I only remember right off the last thing I read (well, listened to) because the book had the most unusual narrator ever. It was Nutshell by Ian McEwan, By the way, I want to hate McEwan because he made me feel like such a hack as a writer. "Nutshell" really is a brilliant work. Damnit. Seriously, if you want to read something that kind of breaks the mold, read (or listen to) Nutshell.

Now the last thing I watched was the whole first season of "Riverdale". I binged every night for a week until I was done, Now I can't wait for the next season. I'm caught up somewhere between criticizing portrayals of most characters and delighting in the others. I'm undecided about Archie, but I love the way Jughead is played - all moody and dark. The actors playing the teens (except for Jughead) look way too old! Veronica and Cheryl wear so much makeup that I want to wipe the screen when they are on. But how cute is it that teen stars of ago (Luke Perry and Molly Ringwald) are playing the parents of the kids? 

I'm curious to know what kinds of things my readers are checking out in books and film. Are any of you watching Riverdale? If you are, you're probably either older (like me) and remember the Archie comics, or you're younger (like my 20- and 30-something nieces) who always liked teen operas.

So, what is everybody else watching and reading? Did anything on my list make your list? I hope you'll let me know. And, no, you don't have to identify yourself in the emails.

Peace

--Free

Life in the Sidebar (Part 1)

One of my blog readers emailed me recently to ask about the items in my sidebar.

Wow.

First of all, I was shocked that someone actually paid attention to the sidebar. Amazing. When I read someones blog, the sidebar is the first (or second) thing I check out. That's where I usually learn more about the blogger.

One of the very first bloggers I followed on a regular basis was a very talented poet/philosopher/empath who called herself Supa Sister. I adored her online persona and she was an inspiration to me as a new blogger. (Sadly, I have lost track of her and most of her sites seem to be dormant. I hope that, wherever she is, she is okay and that her talent continues to thrive.)

I've had many favorite bloggers and online "pals" over the years. My memory is crap for details, but I checked the Wayback Machine (cos nothing is ever lost on the internet) and was able to take a look at the past.

Of course, now that I'm reminded of all those good links, I'll be putting some back on the sidebar. (Thank you, Wayback Machine!)


When that one reader emailed me, I started wondering how many other readers bother to even look at the sidebar. The answer: probably not many.

The thing is, I want the my readers to pay attention to the sidebar. It's not there just for decoration. Not exactly. The top maybe 6 or 7 items are mostly for tracking, advertising, or some other non-fun reason. But the rest, well, that's where the good stuff is. At least, it's good stuff if you have any interest in this blog's author.

Anyway, I decided that for the next few (or more) posts, I was going to highlight parts of my sidebar. Maybe that's a little pushy of me, but... No, okay. It is definitely more than a little pushy. You can always ignore the posts, but I really hope you won't because they will be as much about you all as they are about me. My sidebar highlights things I'm interested in and I want to know what my readers are interested in as well.

So, thanks to the reader who emailed. Unfortunately (or maybe not), they chose not to include a return address. That's fine. At least they are reading the blog - and the sidebar.

Peace
--Free

Sad (In Real Life)

I feel so sad at this moment, that I am almost physically ill, but I have to write this post. All I have at a time like this are my words. I don't even know if I can get through this post without making myself feel worse, but I'm going to try. This is my memorial to my friend.

I've lost the best friend that I never met in person, but who has been such a big part of my life since just before I got sick. If I had never gotten to know Perry,  I don't think I would ever have gotten as well or have ever been as (mostly) happy as I learned to be. And all I got was a mass email notification of his passing. I keep asking myself if I would feel better right now if he had just disappeared from my life? Then, at least, I could imagine him still here on earth and okay and just on one of his crazy bike trips. Or somewhere doing all the other brave and amazing things he liked to do - things I would never do: snorkeling, skiing, camping in some weird and strange place...

Perry, what will I do without your phone calls and emails and little encouragements? What will I do without knowing that you are somewhere out there in the world, rooting for me and just being there?

Because I never met you "in real life," I don't know what to do with this pain I feel at losing you. You were here and now you're just gone away. I feel cheated.

I have, vaguely, wondered before what happens when people who connect online lose touch. At least I am lucky enough that someone thought to contact me. I don't know. I might have preferred just not knowing.

All day today, when I felt like I was so lost and alone in this world, I kept reaching for my phone to check for a message. From Perry. Every time I thought of something funny, or amazing, or scary - I wanted to tell Perry about it.

A couple of weeks ago, I felt so brave, coming here to a strange place. I felt like I was on an adventure because that's how Perry encouraged me to look at it all. This morning, I felt a big whole tear right into the bottom of my world. I'm not feeling so brave now. I'm not feeling like I can hear Perry's voice telling me that I can do this.

There is no more Perry on the other end of a phone call or email. There won't be anymore little bits of crazy humor from him to make me laugh. You aren't here to remind me that I am smart (when I feel dumb), or pretty (when I feel horrible), or tell me to get off my pity pot and just be thankful. You aren't here anymore to just help me keep trying to be a better person.

How can you just be so gone away from me?

I now have one friend left that I don't know "in real life" and I'm going to tell her right now and right here how much she means to me. For +Sandy Sandmeyer:

"I love you, Sandy girl! No matter where in this world you are,  and no matter what might happen to either one of us. you must know that."

Because Perry always ended our calls by saying something about taking care of myself or being good to myself, I didn't miss the chance to let him know how much he meant to me. He also liked to end conversations with, "In my heart, Tru." I hope he can still know that, wherever in Heaven he is, he is always in my heart too.

There are a lot of little memories that are going to one day make me smile when I think of Perry but, right now, I can't think of anything except that he's not here. One day, I will write about you but, for now, just rest in peace.

And, for any of you who knew Perry - or who have lost a friend - I'm going to encourage you with what is encouraging me. From 1 Thessalonians 4:13,

But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.

And, because this is my blog and my memorial, I'm going to go ahead and include one of Perry's secretly favorite songs.

Peace
--Free

Shaking the Shooks (randomness)

Not exactly sure what was hitting my system the other day. I thought it was a simple cold, but it went and turn up on me. I was so sore that I thought I was tearing ligaments every time I tried to get out of bed. Taking my weekly dose of methotrexate was like pouring holy water on a demon.

Ugh.

I'm not running marathons yet, but I am feeling so much better this morning. I had solid food (in the form of this delicious thing called a "breakfast pizza") and I am managing to get some laundry done. Laundry has to be done because I drowned some of my clothing in upchuck...

Anyway, I am trying to get back into moving around and getting things done. I was even able to taste-test a product that I will be reviewing here shortly. In the meantime, thanks to all of you - especially Bonnie and Sandy and Nicky and Merry, and all the others who checked in.

This is what I was blessed to open my eyes to this morning:

Morning's glory

 I literally took that from bed in my family's home this morning. Not a bad sight to wake up too, right? It was/is raining off and on and the sky really did look that gorgeous.

This guy here... This is Hooch. Hooch is Bonnie and Darrell's doggie, but he was all mine while I was sick. They left him in charge of me! He did good. Wouldn't leave my side until I felt better.

He's protecting his yard from squirrels and rabbits

And these are the fresh-from-the-tree apples I nibbled on after breakfast.

So. I'm going to finish laundry and work on getting caught up on reviews. Thanks for sticking around, folks!

Peace
--Free

Sunday Refreshment (Midwest Style)

Lord knows, my spirit needed refreshing and I sure got it this morning. If those plane rides (which scared the crap out of me) and that layover that almost required my applying for residency at DFW - well, if all that didn't wear on me, my previous weeks of chaos has. I've been under so much stress the past few months that, since I landed here in this amazing place, I feel as if my body is in detox. Church this morning is just what I needed to feel replenished.

Before church...

 Let me go ahead and admit now that I haven't been to church in so long that it's a wonder I didn't knock on the front door. Luckily, I didn't have to; the folks at the church I attended seriously welcomed me with such open arms and hearts that I found myself tearing up during the praise and worship part of the service. (I tend to weep with joy whenever I am in church. Too bad I haven't shed enough of those tears lately!)

...After church

The folks here are just... I don't even know how to describe their kindness. It's not a phony-rote-cue-card kind of "Hi, how are'ya." This is sincere, look-you-in-the-eye consideration, compassion and concern. I almost didn't know how to take it all in. How sad is that?

They were. Seriously nice.

Anyway, I feel better than I did when I went to bed and woke up. I went to bed with the start of a cold and woke up with those germs playing golf with my bones. I told my brother that I remembered something our Mom used to say about that's like the Devil whispering for you to turn on over and go on back to sleep.

The drive home was nice. We drove slowly so that I could play the bumpkin outsider and take pictures of every other stalk of corn, barn and cute little house. Seriously. My finger is getting a callous from working the camera on my phone. (By the way, I will be posting some of the pics when I get them organized. Or get them off my brother's phone. Did you know that the Galaxy 4 camera really, really sucks snot? It does.)

Now that I am home and have done this post for the day, I am about to crawl into (or under) the bed and throw Robitussin at this nasty cold. It was pretty lame that the chick from Alaska was sitting in church wrapped up in a coat all morning... Just. So. Um... No words.

I'll be back to regular posting and reviews in the next few days. I have a couple of skin-care products on the way from Tomoson, and my sister-in-law and I have to pick up our free Silk Almond Coconut Blend to try. For this moment, though, I can't even type straight, so...

Peace
--Free

Live Blogging the Trip (first leg)

It's been a rough night.

Leaving for the airport is never easy when you are leaving loved ones, even if you are headed toward more loved ones. Leaving "Boo Boo" (DJ) hurt so bad that it knocked all the breath right out of me. I was doing a decent job of holding it together until he had a meltdown in the driveway.

Not  DJ
But I'm just saying

OH! Damnit, that kid broke my heart.

I won't go into how badly I cried off all my makeup once I made it past saying goodbye to my niece and nephew who brought me to the airport. It took both of them, yes: one to drive and onee to keep me from leaping out of the car and running back to Boo Boo.

Not me
But I'm just saying

Now a word about the American Airline phone app my niece had me download beforehand: This was a mixed experience. Trying to use the app to view my flights was tricky (and never actually worked), but once I did get it to show my "mobile boarding pass," things got good. For one thing, it was nice not to have to worry about keeping track of another piece of paper (even though I had a moment of wondering where that piece of paper was). The best part? Using the mobile pass to sail right through the TSA checkpoint.

Let me stop and tell you the worst part (for me) of going through airport security (I mean, other than the possibility of having to throw out makeup, lotions and potions that go over the allowed amount). For me, the very worst part is the shoe drop. Taking off my shoes around people who don't know me, love me, and won't run screaming from the callus on my right heel... Well, this is stressful.

Not only did I not have to take my shoes off but, because I am too lazy and absent-minded to carry and keep track of more than my backpack as a carry-on, I didn't have to submit to any kind of hassle. I just waltzed right through that scanner and went on my way. Nice. Saved me so much time.

Not my feet
But I'm just saying

With all the time I did save, I was able to get started early on my phobic fantasies of wings falling off the plane midair.

Another good part of the mobile boarding pass is that it's easy to keep track of. Also, it updates with gate changes and such. Super cool. Just super.

The flight was (thank my God in heaven!) uneventful. The worst thing I can say about actually flying that first leg is that the attendants were forgettable. I think I saw one of them crack a smile before she realized she had broken the rules by doing so... Also, I have to say that the airplane was one of the dirtiest I've been on. Dingy, grimy and raggedy seatbacks and dust that just seem to float in the air and stick in my throat.

I had a window seat so I got to cry some more as I watched Alaska disappear from sight. The ladies sitting on row with me were cool and I was embarrassed when they remarked that the plane seemed like one from the early 20th century. ~sigh~ They were a couple of either best best best friends or lovers. They are on their way from a visit to Alaska to a visit to New York. They had Polish (I think) accents and they were very funny when we all noticed the food prices on the on-board menu. There was a decent looking picture of an expensive pastrami sandwich. For what it cost, I'd do better to fly out and have lunch with Guy Fieri. (What is with me and all the Guy references lately?)

At any rate, I've had bad experiences with the way real food actually looks like no matter how good the photos are. For the price of airline food, I'm not letting my wallet take any chances.

Not the airline food.
But I'm just saying

The food was out of the question so I opted for a cup of coffee. I needed something to counteract the crying, wine and Valium. Too bad the coffee was only a poor imitation of anything that should legally being labeled and sold as coffee. It was brown, I'll say that much. Mostly, it was a lukewarm tea-like concoction. And I am insulting tea by even making the comparison. Like I said, it was brown.

I had a moment of panic when we started making the descent into DFW. There was some floaty-tippy-rocky kind of movement that lasted long enough to make that awful coffee bounce around in my gut. I calmed down long enough to say a lot of prayers and compose dramatic goodbye letters in my head to my family. Then we just landed.

Right now, I am in the Admiral's Club, drinking real coffee and using up all the wi-fi I can to play Farmville 2. (I knew Facebook would come in handy somehow, someday.)

Seven and half more hours to kill. I'll blog the next leg of the flight when it comes around...

Peace
--Free

Friendships, Conversations and Laughter

In my anxiety (good and bad) about everything happening in my life right now, I saw something hilarious on Facebook:

Thanks Sandy!

Best idea ever for a t-shirt! Of course, I had to call one of my best friends. This friend can always make me laugh, no matter how much I don't want to laugh. While we chatted, I scrolled through some cute images online. Here are highlights from the scrolling and our phone conversation:

I used to be this way

Me:  "How can I have such blazing indifference about a person I once cared about?"
Friend: "When that person is such a blazing mess that I wondered why you cared in the first place."
Me: "Who were we talking about?"
Friend: "That's my girl."

Pray for people to win their battles

Me: "What if I hate Iowa? Do I come back to Alaska for the WINTER? Will I survive that?"
Friend: "If you hate Iowa, just think about spending another winter in Alaska. I bet Iowa is going to win that fight."

Friend: (teasing, I think) "Make sure you pack enough hair products. Iowa sounds wonderful, but I'm not sure if they are going to have a big supply of Afro-Stretch in the stores."
Me: "Thanks for giving me something else to worry about."
Friend: "On the other hand, Iowa is close to Minnesota. Doesn't Prince live in Minnesota? He's wearing an afro again."
Me (after my brain comes out of a tailspin of confusion): "So, what? I'm supposed to drive over and borrow products from Prince?"
Friend: "Or just order your nap control items online. STOP STRESSING YOURSELF OUT!"
Me: (Realizes she was just teasing about packing my hair products.)

I've been hugger & hugged

Me: "If I move there, I should have less stress. Did I tell you I plan to start a garden?"
Friend: "Do you remember that you once killed a cactus?"

Me: "I love you, girl. Promise that I'll never be blazingly insignificant to you."
Friend: "As long as you matter to yourself, you matter to me."

My glass if full of good people

Before my friend and I hung up, she told me something I needed to hear: that we should pray not just for the people we love, but for the people we can't love. That's deep.

Peace
--Free

P.S.: I see you over there, back on G+, Miz +Marla Hughes & I like that you're back!

Life's Too Short...

On About.me, I saw a bio that had the greatest profile line ever: "Life's too short to drink bad wine."

How perfectly true is that?

Of course, it gets you thinking about other things. My first thought was, "Life's too short to spend so much of it frowning." Then I had about a zillion other thoughts pinging around in my head.

Here's my quicklist of "Life's Too Short...:

• To worry about the day your outfit was horrible
• For spending time on the wrong people
• To think about what you can't do instead of doing what you can
• For having bad relationships, friendships, unsatisfying jobs
• To put off being happy

quotebites.com

When I feel afraid of change or challenges, I have a way of putting things into perspective. It's a little morbid, but very effective. What I do is think of all the people who lived long, full, go-for-it lives. You know they type: people who laughed the loudest, cried the hardest, and loved with deep passion. If that doesn't work, I think of the people who died before they had the chance to realize just how short life really is. Basically, I read the obituaries that are clipped and saved in our family scrapbook.

The other day, my aunt was telling me about our 97-year old grandmother, *Sadie. "Miss Sadie" had just returned from a trip to Disneyland. Now that's the way to live a long life! She she still cooks and cleans and does all her own errands around town. (I just hope she's not still driving!) About five years ago, Sadie had a boyfriend 20 years her junior. Never mind his age, let's just think "boyfriend".

What does it means to have a boyfriend of any age when you yourself are 90-plus? I'm in my 50's and if I had to come up with an escort, I'd be calling 1-800-Rent-A-Date. (Maybe because I am sitting around reading family obits?)

After my sister was diagnosed with cancer, she didn't sit around crying about the worst that could happen. In her mind, she's so blessed every day that Death doesn't scare her the way it intends to. She's raised wonderful kids, she's been an amazing sister and daughter. She's been in love and she has friends who adore her. She hasn't yet done everything in life that she might want to, but she's enjoyed most of what she has done. 

That's what I want in life. If I die after my next breath, I will be glad that I have loved and been loved. I'm thankful that I will be missed and remembered with a lot of laughter. In my human vanity, I am sure that years from now, friends and family will be telling stories of things I've done (and I'm glad that some of the stories won't be repeated until after I'm dead!)

Lots of people have done more - and had more, seen more, tasted more, traveled more - than you and I. Some people have been known and loved by millions. Some have changed lives of millions. That doesn't make any other life mean less. All that really matters for each of us is that we meant something by being here. If that "something" was special to only one person - a child or a friend or a lover - it's enough. It's enough even if it's only special to us.

Life. What else is it good for other than for living? 

Peace

--Free

*Name changed to protect myself from having my ear pinched!

Mayberry of the Midwest

Still here in Alaska, but rushing to get prepped for life in Iowa.  A lot of people who know of my impending move are still a little curious about my reasons. All I can say is that no one can understand why I'm going unless they know where I've been for so many years.

My new town? I'll call it Mayberry of the Midwest. Mayberry. Not because it's small, quaint and country, but because it's everything I'm hoping it will be: small, quaint and country.

I'm looking to Mayberry for some physical, spiritual, social and financial healing. The last several years of living in Arizona, Texas and, back here, in Alaska have broken me in way that only God can fix. Living in a more affordable place is my first step to recovery.

Arizona ruined me financially; Texas broke my heart; and Alaska is too cold and expensive to give me anything I need in my life right now.  I want to be in a new place in my body and in my heart. I want the promises that sometimes a place can only offer a specific type of person at a certain time in their life.

What I've heard about "Mayberry" is that there is plenty of fresh air, a friendly (and sparse) population of church-going people. I've heard of old trees in the yards, unlocked doors on the residences. I envision being welcomed should I approach a neighbor for a borrowed cup of sugar. Okay, that might be pushing the technicolor dreams too hard. Still, I need a break from the harsh glare of the life I've been living.

I am looking forward to making a home for myself. A place to put my few belonging and enjoy them in peace. I want a home that makes me feel safe and calm and ready to go out and re-insert myself in the land of the working. I can't wait to put up family photographs and surround myself with cheap and precious furnishings. I am craving a a space to cook and dine in that is clean, cozy and functional. I want to sleep in comfort and quiet. Waking up in the morning to appreciation of simple blessings is another goal. I can't wait to plant a small garden, nurture potted plants and, maybe, have herbs and spices on my windowsill. This home that I dream of is full of fresh air and light, smelling of flowers (grown or sprayed from a can) and hope.

I suppose I am dreaming of a home and life that can be had anywhere, as long as one can afford it.

When I look back on the past seven to ten years of my life, I have memories of drudgery and resentment and a lack of cooperation from the people I aimed to please. Until I gained the dreams of Mayberry, my future was a dark cloud of being crowded and forced to go along to get along. I haven't been so much living a life to enjoy than just moving from day to day in survival  mode. Survival is like breathing: an automatic urge. Living is something only those with true hope and contentment can fully enjoy.

I don't wish on stars in the sky or rely on man-made promises. Stars burn out and men are only flawed and human. God, though, is a steady presence. He comes through every time. At the end of every road, in the darkest and loneliest of moods, He comes with hope and strength.  I've walked myself toward many bridges in this life of mine, but I have never been able to cross a single one of them without the Lord holding my hand.

So now, I begin this walk towards Mayberry. The bridge is a little rickety and, despite what I've heard, I'm not really sure what's on the other side. I'm just walking in faith.

Watch this space for stories of what I find on the other side. For now, goodnight.

Peace

--Free

Every Time I Need an Answer

Out of all my storms, I am beginning to see glimpses of sun.

In the past several days, I think I've lost a few pounds just from the stress. I haven't been able to eat or sleep or settle my thoughts. I did manage to pray.

Today, our family got a couple pieces of cautious good news. We're not flying banners yet, but we are feeling more hopeful. As for my personal situation, I got a big dose of hope too.

All the songs tell us that all we need is love. Love is nice and I try to never turn down the right kind, but it's hope that keeps me going from day to day.

I can't go into detail yet, but I am thinking of making some huge changes in my life. Huge. Major. Good and hopeful changes. Lord knows, I've made big changes before, but they were never just for me. I've made job changes, location changes and relationship changes - always for the benefit of others. This time, I'm only having to think of myself. It's scary as hell!

We'll see what the coming days bring. For now, I am just enjoying the weightlessness of peace.

If you've read even a fourth of my blog posts, you know that one of my favorite writers is Zora Neale Hurston. After I finished thanking God for this peace I am feeling, one of my best-loved Hurston quotes came to mind:

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” ( from "Their Eyes Were Watching God")

Perfectly true. Every time my life asks questions, God provides an answer. This time He gave an answer I was happy to hear.

More later, when I have things firmed up.

Peace
--Free

I Have a Cold So I'm Sharing It

Ugh.

I'm starting an apartment hunt, continuing a job hunt, dealing with a family crisis, and .... now I have a cold. If my situation gets any better, I'm going to tie a balloon to my butt and do the Happy Dance the next time I sneeze.

What is it about something as common as the "common" cold that zaps your will to even get out of bed and brush your teeth in the morning (or just get out of the bed)? Well, since I have to be running around the rest of the day, and since I am sitting up just to breathe without strangling myself with congestion, I thought I'd look into this.

So, if I also had a fever, this would be the flu? Huh. I don't get fevers. Ever. I can be under attact from some strange and oddly-named  disease and not get a fever. I have been under attack from such a disease. No fever. I get the chills and sweats and hacking and sensation of creeping towards the gates of Death, but, nope, no fever for me. I'm not complaining, mind you, I'm just saying.

As far as my cold being caused by the rhinovirus, I say, "Hah! That's what 'they' say." I say my cold was caused by the rhino-baby of terror that is called D.J. That little brat nephew of mine gave me this misery when he was slopping kisses on me the other day. If I just have to be sick, I'd rather think of his slobbery little face-kisses causing it than some prehistoric-sounding something-virus.

It's not being sick that I mind so much - because I know there are worse things to be sick with - it's just that this comes when I have too much else going on in my life. I don't have time to be sick.

I don't want to be that person who doesn't stay away from others while ill, keeping their germs private, but I don't have the luxury of hibernating right now. I have jobs to seek out, apartments to find, appointments to meet, and errands to run. Dangit, I envy people with a less complicated life! Guess I will just have to keep my purse-sized bottle of Purell full and on the ready.

At any rate, that first video was informative (and took my mind off my misery for 3 minutes) and a bit reassuring. Except for the whole "lasts about 7 to 10 days for a person with normal health. There's always a kicker, isn't there?

By the way, as much as I learned from the two videos, I could just sum up my cold situation with pictures:

My personal little virus

Always trying to drive!

 Hahaha

Peace
--Free

I'm a Survivor

My latest Netflix marathon was one of watching "I Shouldn't Be Alive". It reminds me a lot of another favorite: "I Survived".

Since the show is about people who came out of situations that should have broken them, body and soul, I kept relating to each episode on a personal level. Every time someone said something like "Help was so close, yet so far away" or "It was just within my reach, but I just couldn't catch hold", I found myself thinking about my own life and trials.

I know the Master of the wind

After I watched half a season worth of shows, I wanted to be depressed. Then I thought of something: all those people, in all those precarious situations, had come out alive. They had survived, mainly because they had just refused to give up.

With everything going crazy in my life right now, I've decided that I'm going to come out a survivor. When I look back on this past few months (and maybe a future month or two) of my life, I'm going to remind myself that I survived. Anything and anyone trying to break me is going to fail.

I'm thinking now of a Bible verse. I'm going to write it on a piece of paper to keep on my person. On the days when I feel myself getting tired, I'm going to pull out that paper and read it.

No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their righteousness is of me, saith the LORD. (Isaiah 54:17)

Peace
--Free

More & Less (of what we need)

I'm supposed to be doing something else right now - something unpleasant and tiresome. Before I get to that, I will blow off some steam with a little (big) rant about people. There are just certain things more people need to be doing more of and other things many of us need to be doing less of. . Of course, all this is just from my opinionated point of view, but here's today's rant:

More people need to spend more time...

• Getting up and moving around. I'm not talking about just getting up and going to work every day (although that's always good). I'm talking about physically moving your body just to be moving. Take a walk, dance around the house, visit a museum or bookstore. Just do something to keep life interesting. I know people who don't work and still don't use all that free time to live some kind of a life. That's a lot like mental suicide. If nothing else, you are spitting in the face of an ability that some people would give anything for.
• Learning something. I love the Gandhi quote: "Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." You can read tons of studies talking about how lifelong learning is important for staying mentally spry. I'm not elderly (yet), but I'm not very mentally spry. I'm going to do everything I can to work the brain muscles I have left. With the technology we have today, there's no excuse not to take advantage of the opportunities to learn. If you don't have a computer, libraries do, friends do - somebody can hook you up. If you don't have access to a library or friends with a computer, then ask around for help with that or other resources. I bet if you didn't have food, you'd know how to apply for assistance. I'm just saying.
• Helping each other. Someone you know needs something from you. Maybe some words of encouragement. Maybe they need to borrow your computer! (heh heh) You might be really good at something (cooking or cleaning or math or balancing a budget) that someone else could benefit from learning. 
• Accepting help and advice. If someone has criticized you, think about the criticism before you get mad and shut down. Sometimes people are just hating, but, sometimes, there's a little truth in a comment - insensitive or not. Don't complain about being sick and tired or depressed if you don't even want to make an effort to get better. Everyone has problems. Not everyone wants to do what it takes to solve their problems.
• Improving their situation. Unless you are perfect, there is room for improvement. That could go along with any of the previous points. 
• Being kinder to each other. It is not going to hurt society for all of us to start being a bit more pleasant. When your parents taught you as a child not to talk to strangers, I don't think they meant to turn you into a rude adult. It won't kill any of us to nod, say "hello" or make friendly eye contact with one another. Sometimes I walk through a public place wondering what the hell has everyone so mad or sad. 

If more of us need to be doing more of certain things, lots of us sure do need to stop doing some things. 

• Stop trying to be "gangsta" or a "hottie" or whatever ignorant, unoriginal thing that happens to be going around. Ever notice that when gangster rap went mainstream, a lot of folks started dressing, talking, walking and having the gansta attitude? You can go into a grocery store and feel crowded out by all the suburban kids trying to be Ice Cube. You want to roll your eyes and shrug it off, but you can never be sure just how far the wanna-bes are willing to go with their role-playing. And don't get me started on the kids running around trying to be the local version of some fake-a-lebrity or reality show idiot. I look at these people talking and acting like whoever is the latest trendy embarrassment with a TV show and think to myself, "What a horrible world." I think to myself, "What. A. Hor-ruh-bull world. Ohhhhhh, yeahhhh!"
• Stop supporting things that are bad for us, the world, arts and entertainment. If I could wave a wand and do one thing, it would be to stop another semi-talented singer from taking over the world of music, fashion and (in some cases) politics. Just because we live in a time when almost any one of us can do and be anything, that doesn't mean we should want to do or be just anything. Why not be someone promoting positive and worthwhile issues? If I see another influential singer, rapper, actor or whoever promoting a brand of liquor or rip-off debit card, I'm going to puke. The one thing I hate about some entertainment biggies is that once they get above their former life circumstances, they send nothing positive back down the ladder for others. People, stop validating celebrities who have such disdain for the rest of us. 
• Stop being victims of the latest thing. I remember way back when somebody scalded themselves with coffee from a fast-food place. Everybody fell on the bandwagon. Now, we can't buy gum without warning labels on the wrapper not to get a paper cut. The latest thing is bullying. I wonder sometimes if we don't live under a herd mentality. The first time I heard  of a person feeling damaged from being bullied, I remembered how I was picked on because of my scrawny size in my early school years. Later on, I got teased for being so dark-complected. Eventually, I learned to fight the kids that physically picked on me, then I grew a thicker skin and a stronger self-esteem against the problems. It was maybe a couple years ago that I first read about someone being driven to suicide by bullying. What? Maybe I am not fully aware of the type of problems going on in schools these days, but... There are kids who have to go to school (or just live day to day) in the middle or war zones and famines. When I hear about first-world problems like bullying, I kind of expect people to be just a little bit tougher.  (Please understand that I am not blowing off the fact that people have been hurt by bullying to the point of suicide. If kids in our schools are being subjected to bullying of such an extreme extent, something extreme should be done by authorities or parents before it gets that out of hand. Maybe what's happening today isn't the type of bullying I grew up with.)

There are a lot more things I could rant about, but now that I have this off my chest, I feel better.

Peace

--Free

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle." (Plato)

"For Attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.

People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others." (Sam Levenson)

(both quotes from Good Reads.)

Randomly Thought

A random thing went through my mind today. There are 5 things that can make someone feel either silly, scared, or brave:

Being with a child
Being in love
Being intoxicated
Being threatened
Being dared

Like I said, just a random thought.


Peace
--Free

Hibernatintg and Healing

Some sweet folks over at G+ made me smile hard with a video the other day. (Thank you, Mr & Mrs H.) I guess I have dropped out of site in a way.

Every now and then, I need to stop, drop and roll. Roll into myself, that is.

I tend to be a bit manic. My thoughts run at warp speed and my emotions cycle even faster. When I was in my early twenties, my mother would worry about me. At the end of a bad day at work, she'd ask, "Does you body hum when you lay it down at night?"

Yes, sometimes it does. For the past couple of weeks, it has. When I get like this, I live up to my birth sign and go all crab-like. In the past, I've totally withdrawn from people and situations. That strategy has caused me a lot of heartache, so I had to learn to be wiser with it.

In my maturity, I withdraw, but I do it with a lot of thought and a purpose - and, most important, I don't succumb to it. I think of it as hibernating to heal. When I need healing, I turn to either family or God. Family is all right for surface wounds, but for the hurting that goes all through me, I need God.

This time I need God.

I am listening to * and reading one of my favorite Psalms. I'm staying very still and quiet, trying not to break into a useless mess of tears and despair. God is the only One who is going to hold me together.

Thanks to +J.D. Hughes +Marla Hughes and +Sandy Sandmeyer  +Julia Hawkins for their love.

Peace
--Free

* I don't know if the Christian Post knows what a blessing that entire resource is.

Don't Call It a Comeback

What the hell. Call it what you want. I just feel way good with internet access restored.

It's been 3 weeks since I was able to post here. What a long time. So much happened that today is the first day my head isn't spinning just trying to keep up with things. Here are some of the thoughts I've had in the past few weeks:

• Moving is a bitch. Doesn't matter if you're moving three miles or thousands of miles. You are forced into a sort of "spring-cleaning" frenzy.
• I am a procrastinator. I have moved whole houses of stuff in less than 2 weeks for job moves. This time, it took me damn near a month to move stuff from one bedroom, one bathroom and a small storage space.
• Somewhere along the way in the past 5 years, I became a pack-rat of the first order. I found stuff I'd forgotten I owned. I kept most of the found stuff.
• Life never gives you one major change at a time; shit happens in piles (forgive that one).
• Once I finally got most of my stuff moved, I was notified of the death of a former co-worker/cousin-in-law. Damn.
• Death always catches you off guard - whether you expect it or not.
• I am more of a neat-freak than I thought. I can be kind of a bitch about keeping things clean and in order.
• With my Sarc condition, I need order. Without order, I can't find anything I need when I need it. Messiness depresses me.
• Living in an apartment is way different than living in a house. There are people you don't know and love making noises you don't want to hear and doing things you don't want to think about.
• Pro to apartment living: no shoveling, paying the handyman, worrying about anything but your own stuff. Another Pro: renters' insurance is probably the cheapest necessity I'm paying for.
• Con to apartment living: it's not a house.
• I miss my family even though they are just down the street. I really, really miss that little snotty, messy, loud-ass creature called D.J.:

• I dig my BFF as a roomie, except when she gets into one of her deep-blue moods. I have trouble enough trying to keep myself from sinking into the deep. Plus Side: we just avoid each other during those times.
• My cousin-in-law's death brought me to my knees in sadness and prayer and then more sadness, but it produced a gift. In contacting people to notify them of the tragedy, I strengthened ties with a "bestie" of almost 20 years. We had a girls'-only weekend during which I learned some important things.
• I never was much of a drinker and can count the times I got deeply wasted. 
• Friday night, I got so "deeply" wasted that the depth of the deepest ocean pales in comparison.
• There is a reason I don't never drank much and I remembered why on Saturday afternoon.
• My bestie and I have been great about not smoking - her for over three months and my last smoke over two months ago. Friday night we jumped off the wagon and stomped two fermented bottles of grapes. Oh, boy. I have to see both my docs within a couple weeks. ("CHANTIX, where are you???")
• I love the Tempur-Pedic adjustable bed. I hate my own bed now. Really, I do.
• When I do see the fam now, it gives me a very sweet and grateful feel way down in my soul. And when I walk in the door and yell, "Where's my Stinks?!" I get a big smile because of this:

I'm more blessed than I have a right to be.

Peace
--Free

I Hate Moving...

... so much!

Really, I do. I hate leaving the old place (packing, re-packing, loading up that crap to a truck); I hate getting to the new place (cleaning, painting, un-loading, un-packing); and I just flat out hate change of any kind - even the good kind, and this is the good kind.

Right now, I am one miserable bitch to be around.

My bedroom looks like a storage unit burped and blew up. I can't get packed because when I do get something into a box, I need it twenty seconds later. I'm having to throw out and give things away because I just refuse to move all this stuff. On top of it all, I'm a little depressed because I notice now that I have clothes in three sizes: 4, 6, 14. (Okay, four sizes, but I'm not telling anymore.)

Best part of all of this? I am only moving 2 miles down the road. I'm not ever going far from my family again.

~sigh~

You all know me by now: I can make a mountain out of a two grains of sand and a drop of procrastination...

The BFF I will be roomies with is all excited. Of course she is - she doesn't have to move all her stuff. She has offered to come over and help, but I am trying to have her save her energy for the painting we are going to do. Oh, and the moving of the bed and other pieces of furniture. heh heh. Besides, we'd end up looking at every piece of clothing and doing fashion critiques worthy of Ms. Wintour (or Mr. Blackwell!).

I do thank God (seriously) that I have The World's Best Family. My sister is motivating me ("You have 22 days. That's plenty of time." "You have 17 days." "You lazy heffa, you! You only have 12 days...") One nephew is going to help us paint, another one is going to do the moving (with the first nephew) and clean the carpets in the new place. My niece in North Carolina has been soothing me ("Just breathe, Auntie. I moved across country with 4 weeks notice. You got this.") The niece I live with is being so patient and sweet as I tear her house and garage and storage apart, looking for all my stuff. I locked her beloved (pain in my ass) dog in the garage the other day while I had the front door propped open so I could trot between storage and house for an hour. I also broke a shelf in her pantry while I was getting my pots and pans down... She's probably counting the hours til I'm out of here, but she gets all teary-eyed and says she's going to miss me! Her husband thought that pantry shit was funny, but he didn't laugh while she could hear him. (And, just for the record: no one here is going to miss me much because my ass will be right over here every day to see my sister and the baby!!!)

Am I dealing with this? Yes, but not very well. I get so overwhelmed  by the least little thing anymore. I  am calming myself with the following facts (here goes one of my lists):

• I'm about 5 minutes away (3 if the BFF is driving).
• I will be here to visit every other day or so.
• My darling little nephew, D.J., will be over to spend some nights with me. (Kidnap style!)
• My BFF is part of the fam so she is going to be sneaking over here as much as I will.
• As soon as all this pack/move b.s. is over, I'm going to invite Mr. Malibu Rum over so we can have a really long chat.

It's all good. Change is hard, but it happens. I am just now thinking of a really cute posting I saw on G+: "Life...Some Assembly Required." (I really need a t-shirt with the saying I came up with: "Life - this side UP.")

Whatever. Just think of me and know that this is what I look like when I am staring at this mess of unpacked stuff:

I wish I could snap my fingers or crack my toes and have this shit just all freaking done. Ain't gonna happen, so let me get my lazy ass up from this laptop and get back to packing. Please miss me while I am gone from the blog!

Peace
--Free

I Grew A Spine, But It Hurt

So... The local BFF talked me into going car shopping with her. She just wanted a little company while she scoped out deals and such. I gave her a little more than she asked for, but I think she is happy.

Understand that car salesmen work on commission. That's Number One. Number Two: salesmen are not the most up front people on the planet. Now, I am not saying that car salesmen lie, but they know how to hold back. No, fuck it, they lie.

My friend (after checking out about 6 cars) decided to be in love with a Ford Fusion. Funny thing is, we found nothing good at the Ford lot, but we found the Fusion over at Dodge. We also found salesmen on the hustle for every nickel they could get. That is where I grew a spine.

The BFF explained what her bank approved her for and admitted that she was willing to throw in her Permanent Fund Dividend. The salesman said that might not be enough. I called him on his bullshit. He went and got the Manager. As if I'd think shit smells better from a different ass.

"I'd like to let you have it for that, but I won't make any money that way." That was Lie One from the gorgeous Sales Manager.

Okay.

Understand that my BFF is one of the nicest people born into this world. She is sweet, funny, generous, open-hearted... And she has no freaking backbone. (I didn't walk in with one. Matter of fact, we'd mainly gone to that dealership because they are having a drawing for winning 3 extra Permanent Fund Dividends.)

Even though I was just tagging along, I couldn't stand it when the salesmen started holding that Fusion hostage over a measly $250. My friend had laid all her cards on the table - which is such a huge mistake when dealing with salesmen. They knew too much about her at this point. They knew that her current car was about to blow a head gasket (whatever the hell that is); they knew that she was very worried about going into winter without some kind of reliable vehicle; they knew what she had from her bank and maybe they thought she could come up with a little more. Ojh, and they knew that she had fallen in l.o.v.e. with the Fusion. (It's the right color, is known for good gas mileage - and it has a bang-ass stereo. This is all very important to the BFF, especially the stereo. Lord, help her. ~sigh~)

Oh, and let me talk about this car for a moment. It had just landed on the lot. There were at least 7 minor appearance flaws and a couple of safety issues I spotted right off. The car was filthy - as if the former owner had a bunch of kids or a couple of pet monkeys - and we had no idea what was going on under the hood. The test drive went great though, so my friend was happy.

Once they had my friend salivating, the salesmen stopped bargaining at a price just a tad out of her reach. ("And I'd just love to see you drive out of here in it, but...")

I got pissed. At the salesmen for the creepy attempt to get another $250 out of the deal, and at my BFF for sitting there with tears of desire in her eyes.

Thank GOD for my brother, J. That man is just stone cold, bad to the bone when it comes to negotiating. I've watched him work. I've seen him reduce other men to tears across bargaining table. I used to watch him working a deal and think, "What an asshole!" Now I am glad that I sat at the feet of a Master. Brother told me once that the best way to handle any negotiation is to keep the other person off balance. "Be what they don't expect, do what they aren't looking for, and hold your ground."

I looked like a wimp on this particular day. Hell, I felt like a wimp. I loathe car shopping and car salesmen. So I got an attitude and asked the salesman if he was seriously going to let a customer walk out the door over a stinking $250. He stared at me. I stared at him. He blinked. Then he left to get his Manager. (I took the chance to call my nephew because he knows about cars. Gave him the price and a rundown and got his advice: that's a great car and great deal so jump on it! Maybe ask for a year-long warranty.)

Back came our salesman with his manager. Oh, hot damn that Sales Manager is fine. Just pure deliciousness. He even has a sexy name, but I'm not telling.

I went into heat for about five seconds before I remembered that my friend really wanted this car.

The  Sales Manager repeated what the Salesman had said about not being able to go a penny lower. I repeated my line about letting a customer walk. The Sales Manager stared at me. I stared at him, but had to stop because my hormones were turning happy cartwheels. I looked at the Salesman and my hormones calmed down.

I asked the men how they felt about beating the hell out of my friend over $250 when they knew they were going to make SO much more money off someone coming in to buy that hot ass and brand new Durango sitting out there on the showroom floor. (Do you know what a fully loaded Durango goes for these days? Damn.)

Mr. Gorgeous tried to tell me that what one customer does makes no difference in the case of another customer. Next he tried telling me that he had no idea what it was going to cost him to bring the Fusion up to safety; he would know only after they ran it through their checks.

I did a lot of nodding (and kicking my friend under the table to get her to stop leaking tears) and pretended to be sympathetic to the plight of poor salesmen everywhere.

The Sales Manager tells me that he' stuck. He'd like to help my friend out, but...

I avoided looking directly at that gorgeous man (because he was really starting to piss me off), and I channeled my brother.

I called both salesmen liars and told them that they could keep their damn Fusion (okay, I said something worse than "damn"). I reminded them that this car was coming with a cheap ass 3-month warranty and no guarantee that it would be running by New Year's Eve. I said they were going to go to Hell for the lie about not making more money off other deals, and I think I cursed once or twice (okay, I cursed a lot), then I told my friend to get her coat because we were leaving. I started reminding her that we could always get my nephew to take us to the auctions.

Have you ever noticed that salesmen have this thing they do where they try to keep you on their turf? I mean, they can't bullshit you out of your money if you get up and leave, right?

The Manager stopped us before we got to the door. He nicely asked my friend to come back, come back, so they could maybe work something out. He also mumbled something about me being "a little aggressive." (As if I have eff to give about what he thinks of me.)

After about another thirty minutes of a game of Who's Gonna Blink First, we struck a deal. The guys agreed to let my friend put a refundable "Hold" deposit on the car until after the safety check. If the repairs weren't going to be outrageous, then she could have the car for the price she wanted; if not, she could walk away clean.

I wanted to kill my friend because she was sitting there just ready to go out and sell ass or something for the $250. The Manager mumbled something about my attitude, but the Salesman dropped me a wink.

When we'd put up the deposit and walked out of that place, I was ready for a drink, some crack and a big piece of anything chocolate. My friend was doing a little jig because she was sure she was going to get this car. I told her that the Manager really wasn't so fine after all; he mumbles too damn much. I also told her that she was going to get her Fusion. The only reason for the delay was so the Manager could save face.

My friend called me this morning. She got the car.

Peace
--Free

(P.S.: Hope this post is coherent. Had an infusion today & feel just a little bit crappy!)

Powered Down

We are recovering from windstorms that knocked out power for three days. No lights and no electronics. Three days. I have learned things about myself.

• I don't like camping - not outside, not in the house, not even at the best place in the world - if it doesn't involve all my comforts. 
• One of my comforts is hot coffee two seconds after I roll out of bed.
• Another of my comforts is turning on my laptop two seconds after my first sip of coffee.
• I hate messing with propane and "campstoves" to make my coffee. (Scratch that. I hate messing with propane and campstoves.)
• It takes about ten years to make a pot of coffee on a campstove. It's like trying to make lava with a match.
• Toddlers and new puppies are tough to entertain when you are cranky.
• Toddlers don't know their own strength.
• Puppies don't know to run like hell when they see Pebbles or Bam-Bam coming.
• This is the puppy 

• This is the puppy cornered by Bam-Bam

• Even when there is a power outage, I will hit a light switch every time I walk into a room. Every. Time.
• My family can only take about 3 hours and 22 minutes of me being cranky. 
• I have the most awesome best friend. She came over and picked me up for lunch just to get me out of the house. And because my sister called her and said, "Come get her before we kill her."
• The House of Bread is the best (and I mean the BEST) neighborhood hangout. Their fresh breads and sandwiches will substitute for Prozac any day. 
• Fox News had better news coverage of the storm than our local paper.
• I hate Fox News.
• Give men control over the generator during an outage and they make sure to hook up the freezer, fridge and TV. I'm not kidding. Because the Cowboys are playing. I'm really not kidding.
• Families grow closer during power outages in Alaska. We have to keep warm somehow. 

Peace

--Free