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Friday, November 01, 2013

**REVIEW**: Insta Bulb

The Insta Bulb.

I should be called an  Insta Idiot for buying this since it was a complete Insta Waste of Money. And why did I even buy this thing in the first place? Well, my roommate has an adorable dog. Paddy is a Lhasa Apso. Our perfect little sentinel pup (who happens to be afraid of the dark). We love the little critter so we leave the stovehood light on for him at night. I can see the light seep in underneath my bedroom door. I hate that. I like to sleep in complete darkness and, well, with the Insta Bulb, I get my wish, but the dog is gonna need therapy.

Usually, when I make a dud purchase, I can soothe myself with at least a few "Pros" about the product. Not this time. I can only think of a single good thing to say about Insta Bulb: it's not horrible-looking. That's it. Matter of fact, let me clear my throat and lay out the whole truth of my experience:
  • It provides less light than an just blown out match.
  • It doesn't adhere well to anything. (Okay, it did stick to a wood surface - until I pulled on the string to turn on the "light." I have to hold the mounting while pulling the string so I don't get clunked in the face by the fallout*.)
  • It should not be allowed to call itself "light" or any word that indicates eliminating darkness.
Oh! Wait, wait - I found another Pro: Since it doesn't stick well to anything, I can snatch that bitch down and toss it! I was hesitant to even write this review because I'm ashamed to admit I bought the product.

I'm going to return this thing to the store - if they will take it. If I was them, I wouldn't.

If you think I'm kidding, here are the photos:

Kitchen overhead & Stovehood lights on. Insta Bulb on.

Overhead & Stovehood lights on. Insta Bulb off.

Overhead off. Stovehood light on. Insta Bulb on.
Notice that I left the stovehood light on. That's because I didn't want to be in this kind of darkness to take the photo:

THIS is with only the Insta Bulb on. Paddy almost lost his mind.

* The mounting  did hold a little bit better when I stood and mashed against it for a good full minute after mounting. (I don't have time for that & it's not what I expected to have to do.)


Peace
--Free

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

My Mama's Music

When I was watching "Only the Strong Survive" on Netflix the other night, something disturbed me a little. (No. It disturbed me a lot.) My mother and father loved so much of the music the film featured. When I actually paid attention to the lyrics of "The Night Time is the Right Time" and "Midnight Hour," I wanted to wash my brain.

Parts of "Right Time" made me smile with the memories of the good, sweet love my parents had for each other (only it was Mama who cried when my Daddy passed away). I can remember my parents sharing a smile or glance while listening to their favorites songs. But there were parts of the song that was just too much for me.
When I come home, baby, now
I wanna be with the one I love, now
You know what I'm thinking of.
Yeah. I know, and I wish I didn't.

 ~washing my brain, washing my brain~

It gets worse with "Midnight Hour":
I'm gonna wait til the midnight hour
That's when my love comes tumbling down
I'm gonna wait til the midnight hour
When there's no one else around
I'm gonna take you girl and hold you
And do all the things I told you in the midnight hour
Yes I am, yes I am
One more thing I just wanna say right here
You've said quite enough, Mister Pickett.

Yeah. So. I'm going to lay off the old love songs for a while. I just can't take thinking of my parents in that way. Grown ass woman that I am, I want to think that I was the product of something very mysterious and platonic. That's kind of hard to do when I have 5 siblings.

Oh, mommy...

#I'mNEVERGoingToGrowUp

Peace
--Free

Monday, October 28, 2013

When Life Hacks Get it Twisted

I love those "Life Hacks," but, sometimes, the best thing I get from them is a good laugh. Some things (in my life anyway) are just un-hackable. Maybe certain areas of my life are just not to be tamed. Here are a few hacks that I've run across that don't work so well for me:

Hack: Beating your phone addiction. My Life: Too late. I need a serious intervention.

I'm advised that instead of checking my phone first thing in the morning, I should spend my time "organizing my thoughts." Yeah. Okay. That would be great - if I didn't need my phone to wake up in the first place. I not only use my phone as a morning alarm, I sometimes use it as a noise machine for getting to sleep in the first place. (I love my phone so much that, if it had warm toes, I'd snuggle with it.) Once I do get up and think I might be able to function, I need my phone to outline my day. I even use this app (sometimes) so that I have something talking to me. (My phone is the only thing that wants to have a conversation with me before I've had coffee.) A few more years of becoming any more dependent on our phones, I imagine some of us will forget to breathe without Siri or her boyfriend reminding us. (By the way, is it sad that I've been thinking of naming my phone? Some days, I think of her as "Lou." Some days, I just call her "unresponsive bitch.")

Hack: Having "organizing stations" around our home. My Life: If I was that organized, I wouldn't need this.

This hack made me actually stop reading to roll my eyes. First off, there are 11 of these suggested stations. Eleven! Come on now. With my illness, I have the attention span of a toddler. I read the first one and started skimming the rest. Here are the listed stations: Mail/Correspondence, Wardrobe, Fix-it, Cleaning House, Gift Wrap, Charging, Bag Drop, Child's School, Recycling, Car Travel, Health/Wellness.

Well, damn. I had to rest after just going through the list. Talk about needing a Health/Wellness station... Actually, I have every one of those so-called "stations." They just aren't exactly organized. I even have a Child's School station (and no kids). That's for all the coloring books and pieces of crafts I collected when I was recuperating and learning to talk again in complete sentences. Some of the stations are just crazy. (A sister-in-law of mine did once have a Gift Wrap room, but she had a 20,000 square foot house. I guess she needed to do something with a good hunk of it to keep me from moving in.) I didn't even check to see what a Bag Drop station is. Unless it's where I keep my big Bed, Bath & Beyond bag of Walmart and Target bags... ~shrug~ What the hell ever.

Hack: Motivation to show up at workMy Life: I owe, I owe, so off to work I go.

Right now, there are days I dream of getting back to work. This whole idle lifestyle is the pits when you are too broke to turn idle time into fun. When I was working, I had all the motivation I needed: house note, car payment, $200 a month shopping habit and, oh yeah - mouths to feed. When I first saw this hack, I instantly remembered my mother and what she would say when I'd complain about my job: "You better get your happy ass up and get to that office. Hungry trumps tired any day." (I laughed so hard, I got a cramp. I really miss my mother!)

By the way, I actually did get a great tip from this hack. I will now be using the "Hemingway Technique" when it comes to writing.

Since I get a daily email feed of hacks, I could go on and on, but you get my point. You can hack some things, but life is, after all, life. Part of the adventure is to live it raw. Of course, I will take help where it helps.

Peace
--Free

Friday, October 25, 2013

***COMING SOON*** Review of Lancome Dream Tone!

Heads up, ladies.

The other day, I was moaning about the lack of program invites from She Speaks. Well, a big one has come up.

Lancome has this product that I am now SO anxious to try out & tell you about. It's their brand new "DreamTone Customized Skin Tone Correcting Serum." The product comes is available for "Fair," "Medium," and "Dark" tones. Guess which one HRD (Her Royal Dark-n-Lovely) will be trying. (Let's just hope that "Dark" means more Naomi Campbell and less Queen Latifah!)

In the past, I've tried (and reviewed) BB creams, but this sounds like a different type of product and it might be reaching a little higher as far as "correcting" serums. I am pretty happy with my skin, but, like almost any other woman, I can relate to the areas this product is supposed to work on: dark spots, uneven skin tone and color imperfections.

I will be blogging about the product once I've received it. I was really intrigued by the photos of the women on the product website. I've decided that, when I go get the product, I am going to take more than one "Before" pic to post here, then I will try to get a photo every week or so. That way, you will be able to get a good idea of the effects. (And you guys know how I hate having my photograph taken, so I'm going all out this time!)

You guys know that I'm pretty outspoken when it comes to reviewing products, so...

Keep watching for the product arrival. In the meantime, visit the SheSpeaks site and on Twitter. Here's Lancome on Twitter and on (ugh!) Facebook.

You can also check Twitter for folks who've tried the product by checking Twitter for the bareselfie movement for #DreamTone (or go here)

Fellow bloggers - SheSpeaks wants to hear from you. Join up (and be sure to tell them who sent you!) to start giving your opinion.

Peace
--Free

Thursday, October 24, 2013

If the Shoe Fits, Get It!

I mentioned in the last post that I had a shoe story coming. Yep.

For a gift a couple weeks ago I got some of the cutest  boots ever. Just too cute. See?

Bad pic. The boots are not gold, but dark tan.

Problem is, the heels are about 4 1/2 inches high and I felt like I was drunk and on stilts. I could walk in them but only if I kept shooting my arms out for balance and wasn't required to move in anything like a straight line. On the plus side, my sister had the best laugh she's had since our recent family tragedy. She laughed so hard I thought she was going to vomit. I admit I was a little comical, but didn't think I was all that funny.

Those gorgeous boots went back to Burlington. Since I felt bad having to return a gift, I decided to do an exchange. I mean, it is winter now and I do need boots, right? This way, I was spending no money of my own. Thing is, I can no longer get away with wearing just any kind of footwear. Back in the day, I could cram my feet into any kind of shoe or boot and strut my butt off. I hit 45 and my feet got all snobby about what's comfortable. Then, at 50, Sarc hit me and my whole body got an attitude. Until a few months ago, I got nervous if the soles on my tennis shoes were too thick. Currently, I need something made well and most likely not of man-made materials.  I can finally do heels again - if they aren't outrageous.

Just like the man I want: warm, cute, safe.
I have no idea why classic looks don't stay in fashion for the average consumer. So many of the shoes and boots I saw at the stores around my town looked like they belonged in specialty catalogs for someone dancing off a pole or just trying to spice up their sex life - or maybe just for folks with really awful tastes. And with no fear of heights. This is Anchorage. In Alaska.  We have a lot of ice and snow for most of the year. I'm not really out to impress anyone but myself. I saw too many styles that made no sense at this point in my life.
Cute, cute, cute. But insane!



"You better work, girl."

Where's the rest of it???

"Then I'm going to tie you up..."


I look at some of those shoes and wish I'd lived a little faster when I was younger! Hah.

Guess what? Most shoes, cheap, mid- or high-priced, are made of materials labeled as "man-made," plastic/pvc or "faux-" something. I went through both Burlington stores before I found 3 pairs of boots that qualified as leather, well-made, and (in my book) cute. I even had to put back a super-sweet pair of designer-named boots because I saw that, despite the steep price, the man-made label kicked them off my list. Damn.

I ended up with... Vera Wang, baby. On sale for less than the shoes I got as a gift. Score. And, seriously, it matters not too much to me that the boots are by V.W.; I just love that they are leather, cute and comfy. Triple score. The label does indicate good quality. I like that. The ones I got are called "Emmanuel" and very similar to these, except the top buckle is higher up on mine. Sturdy, cute and very durable.

No matter who's on the label, these are Alaska-worthy.
Anyway, since I came out a little ahead of the game (and I had a little PFD left from bills), I went ahead and gifted myself with this pair of Fergie boots. I'm now officially a fan of the footwear line. So damn cute that when I'm strutting around in them, I forget I still have over 20 pounds to lose! Except for one thing, I actually like them better than the V.W.s


"Giddy-up" +J.D. Hughes & Marla would be proud!


Freaking cute!











Of course, that's not the end of this story. (This is me we're talking about.) Girl met boots and they fell in love, but didn't exactly live happily ever after.

My Fergies and I needed a little post-purchase adjustment period. Literally. I fell instantly in love with these boots, but the store only had one pair left. In size 7 1/2. I used to fit that size. Back before my freaking "growth spurt." I'm not sure if I am a full size 8 or not, but I had to shoe-horn the hell out of the Fergies until I could walk without pimping, crimping and making all kinds of crazy faces. It's all good now.

By the way, just in case you didn't know, there are ways to get a tight pair of (leather) shoes/boots to fit better:

  • With a couple pairs of socks on each foot, cram into the footwear and run warm dryer over the tight area while wriggling your foot around. (I could barely get my bare foot in my boots, so I crammed in some old towels instead.)
  • Stuff the footwear with damp towels or paper and let sit overnight. (I didn't want to use this method because I was afraid of my lighter-colored leather being affected. I suppose you can just work with dry materials and let sit for a couple days.)
  • Use a shoe-horn to gradually stretch out the footwear. When you can wear the shoes or boots without being in too much pain, walk around the house in them until you break them in.
Such a pain in the butt, huh? I don't care. I kept the other couple pairs of shoes and boots I own and just pretty much tossed out my other old  dressier type footwear. I'm going to be wearing the soles off the few pairs of shoes and boots I still own. Quality is still preferable to quantity.

Peace
--Free

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Help Yourself (to Exercise)

If I have to find something positive in being disabled and temporarily unemployed, I can say that I have time to learn things and improve myself. (Actually, I keep busy just so I don't lose what's left of my mind.)

The focus of my latest self-help project has to do with regaining my balance. The effects of the steroids I was on for so long were easy to combat. Eating right and staying really active is helping get me back to my "usual" shape and size. What the neuro-sarc has done to my balance and flexibility is a whole other battle I have to get through.

The exercise I do for my figure is helping a little with flexibility but not as much as I'd like and it's done nothing for my balance issues. I'm not sliding down stairs or walking face-first into walls like when I first got sick, but I've become chronically clumsy. I had to return a gift of a super-cute pair of boots because the heels were too high and thin. (I did manage to get an equally cute pair with heels not as high and a little thicker. There's a story that'll make you smile.) For now, though, I wanted to share some pages I ran across online - whether you want to lose weight, tone up or have better balance or whatever.

I came across a video teaching basic Yoga moves for "beginners." Couple problems there. For one thing, I'm wary of messing with Yoga because of my religious beliefs*. Even if the religious aspect didn't bother me, one thing did: the woman showing the poses obviously had bones made of some alien substance. There is no way on this planet I'd ever get my body to move like hers. "Beginner." My ass. For those of you with gristle in place of solid bone, knock yourselves out. Really, go right ahead.

Yoga, Pilates, Zumba. It all seems so intense. I'm looking for something I can do without hurting myself or someone else. So... I decided to check out something more specifically designed for someone with my problems.

These stretches seem good for helping to increase my flexibility. Nothing too complicated for me even though I got a cramp looking at that first slide. "Stretching safely," is what it says, but I almost knocked over my dresser when I fell over trying to get my leg in that position. Guess that's why the dude in the pic is leaning on the treadmill for support. Pro: slides are courtesy the Mayo Clinic. Con: no way to view all slides on one page. Hate that. (Be sure to check out the other links on the page for more exercises.)

I really like the idea of the balance exercises. That is just what my klutzy butt needs. (Not too harp on it, but I'm so awkward that my not-yet-2-year-old nephew is steadier on his feet.) My goal is to work my way up to running on a treadmill at the gym without hanging on for dear life. It's really embarrassing. Pro: once again - Mayo Clinic! Con: I couldn't stop giggling at the slides. In #1, the dude looks like he's seducing a crowd of gullible followers. In #2, old boy looks like he's learning or teaching the Electric Slide.

My favorite form of exercise is something anyone can do. Some of us do it badly, but, hey. I'm talking about dancing. You don't have to follow any special moves or rules or anything (except maybe not doing it in the nude in public).

I think one of the reasons I was able to get back into most of my (almost) skinny clothes is because I dance all the time. Am I a great dancer? Yep. In my head, I make Beyonce look like Jerry Lewis. Actually, I'm not a bad dancer, but I am too shy to really let loose in public. But around the house... Boy, let me tell you, I can move. I can't help it. If I hear music, I have to move to it. So, if you don't get any other kind of exercise, turn off the TV (a benefit right there) and get the music going. While you're cooking, cleaning, washing clothes or just wasting time on the internet.

Whatever you do, just move. Move while you can move, dance while you can dance. There are so many people who can't walk, move or dance at all. Celebrate your ability.

Peace
--Free

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Word of (Sour) Mouth

A looong while back, I told you all about some of the word of mouth marketing programs I like(d). Two of them were my favorites: She Speaks and Vocalpoint. (It only took me a short time to not like Influenster.) As of now, I have to revoke my endorsement of She Speaks and Vocalpoint. I am doing this with regrets, but I try to be honest about what I do and do not like when I share things here.

She Speaks used to rely on their own site for trying out products and getting feedback. Things have changed. These days, every She Speaks notice I get requires me to use Twitter and/or Facebook to get involved. That might not bother some folks, but I don't want to be forced to use my other social networks. Since I refuse to use Facebook, I resent that so many online sites (from news to android apps and on) almost try forcing users to tie themselves to FB. I do use Twitter, but I didn't join Twitter to use She Speaks. I joined She Speaks for one reason and Twitter for another. Occasional use of Twitter to tout She Speaks is fine, but do I really have to always go to Twitter in order to benefit from my She Speaks membership? Maybe She Speaks ought to change their sign-up info.

My boredom with Vocalpoint probably comes out of their laziness. There aren't many exciting products to try and the site has become sort of ho-hum.

Since I am on this rant, I can tell you that I wasn't ever super-crazy about Influenster. Okay, that's a lie. I really liked the idea of Influenster. They presented themselves wonderfully. Then I joined and worked hard at getting involved with everything on the site. And... nothing. I got nowhere with getting any offers or additional invitations to be involved. It was all kind of a dud.

Maybe all of this is a sign that I should give up on any word-of-mouth sites. You all know how I love trying and reviewing products, but I can do that on my own. I refuse to give these dud sites my contact information so they can re-sell it. Okay, that is another lie. I don't mind giving up some of my information in return for the chance to get a discount on or try a product. I just don't like not getting anything out of the deal.

Lately, I've been considering doing promotions for samples on this blog. Of course, I don't know how Google feels about that, so I have to do some checking first. Until then, if any of you know of some good product try-and-review sites, let me know.

By the by: Bzz Agent is still standing (IMO) as a worthy site. It requires participation, but doesn't hold you hostage to Facebook or Twitter.

Peace
--Free

(Notice that, other than Bzz Agent, I didn't link to any of the sites mentioned in the post? They don't deserve the promotion.)

UPDATE: She Speaks emailed me about their Lancome program just minutes after my post today. When I tried to go and sign up - surprise, surprise, I had problems logging in. Go figure. Of course, they will contact me to say they fixed the problem, but it will be too late to join the campaign. This is the first campaign invite in months. Whatever.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Winterizing Skin & Hair

This isn't just for the ladies. These days, a lot of guys care about their skin and hair as much (more?) than we do. I'm not judging. Just going to pass along tips my friends and I use.

For winters, it's cold here in Alaska, stays fairly warm and dry in most of Arizona, and the weather is all over the place in Texas. You may be able to use some or all of these suggestions.

Moisturize the body:
This is for all year round, but especially if you live anywhere cold, dry or dusty. (My sister-in-law who grew up in moist weather of the Seattle area has the best skin and hair in our whole family.) I use coconut oil in the summers, and still use it (or olive oil) to wipe my face first thing in the morning and just before bedtime. As a body moisturizer, I'm learning that it's just not enough during the colder months. I personally love Jergens and Dove. Jergens Ultra Healing & Overnight Repair lotions are great for after hot baths or showers. (One of my friends says that Jergens has a "scent" she doesn't like. I don't notice.) The "Overnight" is great for all day. As for Dove, when you especially want your skin to have a sexy-soft feel (no judgement), their Cream Oil lotion is amazing. (While it makes my skin feel sexy as hell, I don't find the Cream Oil is enough for a long day in cold or dry weather, but that's just me. My girlfriend J thinks it's just enough for her less-dry skin.) I'm not a fan of Nivea because it seems to only coat my skin, but I have friends who swear by it. ~shrug~

Moisturize the face:
Like I said, I still use oil (coconut or olive) to remove eye makeup and to prep my face morning and night or my Olay or Anew Ultimate. I run a humidifier which helps, but the oil is not enough to keep the dryness away, especially overnight. I prefer Avon's Anew in the winter and Olay's Regenerist. For some reason, the other Avon and Olay products don't work well for my skin. (BTW: you can join Club Olay here.) My sister prefers using Pond's Dry Skin Cream. It's way too heavy for my face, but my sister just found out how well it works for her. For lips (and I have dry lips), my routine is to use an oil/sugar or oil/baking soda mix to to slough with a Wet-One, then I put on a coating of petroleum jelly, rub that in until it's mostly wiped off. If I'm wearing a matte lipstick, I'll use whatever type of lip balm I have on hand or just prep my lips with some face cream. It kind of works, but I'd love to hear anybody's suggestions for a good lip balm.

Moisturize the hair:
Dove, Dove, Dove. Since I got sick, I wear my hair "natural" (no relaxers or perms), but I still dye it. Natural hair for most black people equals dry. Mine tends to be super-duper dry! If I don't want to use heavy leave-in products (and I don't), I can use Dove's Daily Oil Care Shampoo and Conditioner. After I wash and blot, I rub through some Organix Moroccan Argan Oil for extra dry & coarse hair. (They have lighter versions for different hair types.) My hair comes out soft, natural and not dry without being oily or greasy-feeling. I do use some heavier oil on my scalp about once a week before bed. One of my Caucasian friends likes hair treatment by Ion. Her hair always looks like it's clean, soft and well-conditioned.

For the feet, elbows, knees and other really dry areas (like the back of the thighs and butt), you just have to put in a little more effort. I have feet that I hate to whip out even in front of professionals.They are pretty dry! I try to stay in the habit of coating them at night with Vaseline and putting on a pair or warm socks. For those other areas, try putting on a thick coating of whatever lotion you like then blotting it instead of rubbing it into your skin.

Moisturize from the inside:
I have a major crush on my doctors, but I'm pretty pissed (wait for it...) that I'm on a medicine that makes me pee if I even see a glass of water. Still, they are right about one thing: it's important to drink a lot of water. Not soda, not tea, not booze - just plain old water. I've been better about drinking a lot of water for about two months now. I've noticed a couple of things: my mouth is less dry (duh) and my perfumes tend to wear better. It's still not easy to drink a lot of water if you aren't sprinting distance from a restroom at all times. I find myself walking into places, checking for the "Ladies" sign. Just in case.

If you have suggestions for winterizing (or summer-izing) the body, hit me up on G+

Peace
--Free

Monday, October 14, 2013

Speaking of Talent

When I spoke before about certain people being smarter than others, I mentioned  some folks with unique talents. I looked up a few other articles about people with pretty amazing artistic skills:

  • This lady makes cakes that look like anything but. How cool is this? I told family members that I'd love to have that looks like a bottle of Shalimar.
  • As someone who could only draw simple butterflies before I got sick (and couldn't draw a glass of water now), I love these works. That she drew these by hand with anything, let alone a pencil, just blows my mind. Oddity Central has quite done articles on similarly talented people. Some are weird, disturbing or silly, but Ms. Olga and this fellow are my favorites.
  • I love "paper art", especially the work of Peter Callesen. Check this page for his and other paper art artists. (Love, love, love Brian Dettmer's book sculptures!)
  • The same source site from the previous gave my first glimpse of Cecelia Webber's work. She takes the idea of "human body art" to the next level past fabulous. How beautiful are her designs?
Nice work, huh? I only wish I could afford any of it. By the way, if there is a point to this post (other than highlighting some cool talent), it's that we should all concentrate on what we are good at instead of worrying about our limitations. 

Hey, +maria antonia Trajano I see how you love art. Hope you find something you enjoy via th links posted here! :-)

Peace
--Free

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Sense and Intelligence

In light of the beating that my self-esteem took a few weeks ago(yes, I still think about it), I found this article very interesting. I don't really care that this guy can clap his hands thirteen times per second. Really, I don't. Reading the article did trigger another thought for me:

There are some people who are considered to be very intelligent because of their academic or professional achievements or abilities. There are doctors and lawyers and physicists who've made it to the top of their fields. Can all of them clap thirteen times per second? (And does it matter?)

How many people can paint like Cheryl Kelley? Draw like Olga Larionova?  Speak as many languages as Timothy Doner? How many people can be taught to do any of those things?

Maybe I just felt so awful and battered when the recent testing I underwent highlighted my lost scholastic abilities. Maybe I'm just feeling defensive.  In one of my meaner moments of the past few weeks, I came up with a response for anyone who might ever try to make me feel I'm not as intelligent as they are: "If you are so smart, why aren't you smarter?"

I don't like being mean. I'd rather be brave and honest enough to just say that I'm no good at math. Never have been. I can, as people like to say,"own" that. Being worse at math since Sarc doesn't bother me as much as being worse at spelling or speaking. I hate that. (I also hate not always being able to remember my phone number - or where I put my purse, what time I was supposed to be at an appointment or why the hell I hid my extra house key wherever the hell I did.)

This is the frustration of my daily life. I don't need the additional stress of feeling shame because I need a calculator for doing more than adding simple numbers. And I really hate that someone has labelled my lack of mathematical prowess as "Dyscalculia." Seriously, people. Naming the crap just gives me an excuse. I don't want to make excuses. I want to be honest.

So, this is sort of a pep-talk to myself. (I said, sort of.)

I am a good person. I have plenty of common sense, tenacity and character. Pre-Sarc, I was a fairly sharp and intelligent person. With this illness (or peri-Sarc for the smart-asses), I find it a struggle sometimes to do things I used to be good at (and want to give up on things I was never good at). Still, I'm the good and decent person I've always been.

If I wanted to make excuses or be defensive about all this, I'm sure I could find ways. I don't need or want to do that. I am finally learning to be okay with who I am as I am. I'll always strive to be better, but I'm not going to run myself crazy in the process.

There is an awesome harmony in math. There is soul-stirring beauty in literature. There is something glorious in any scholastic pursuit. I aim to be the next Zora Neale Hurston. I'll leave it to someone else to be the Leonhard Euler of our times.

Peace
--Free

"Mathematicians are born, not made." (Henri Poincare)

 "Do not worry about your difficulties in Mathematics. I can assure you mine are still greater." (Albert Einstein)

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Music That Creeps, Music That Soars

I love music. Jazz, Rock, Rhythm and Blues, Rhythm, Blues, Orchestral, Gospel, Techno, Funk, Rap. The only kind of music I don't like is any that leaves me not feeling moved in a good way.

If I'm sad, I want to hear something that will make me want to dance (or that gives me release to cry). When I'm happy, I want to hear something loud with a thumping bass or something that I can sing to. Sometimes, I just need to cool out. I like Etta, Smokey or Otis for moods like that. And, though my body is well past making babies, I still love baby-making music. Marvin, INXS, Sade, Mint Condition.

When I was younger, I discovered music via my parents' record collections or from being that idolizing little sister who always hung out with the older kids. As I got older, I laughed, cried, made love and danced to the same music my friends lived their lives to. When I got wiser, I started listening to whatever made me feel like living my own life. That's when I went back in time for Big Band, Swing, Classical and Gospel music. A couple of years ago, I got way into Reggae.

These days, I try to surprise my ears. That's hard to do because only the crappiest, trendiest sounds get big play - on the radio and in the lounges and clubs. Okay, it's not all crappy, but so little of "popular" music deserves its popularity. Like fashion and attitudes, music has gone trendy and clone-ish. Anybody singing or playing outside the twerk-and-jerk box is being ignored.

I'm so glad for YouTube. Sometimes, I just scroll through the offerings, just randomly listening to music (because I'm not really into the visuals). That's how I lucked up on Nneka and rediscovered Nina Simone and Steely Dan. I'm glad for the folks in my online social circles who post links to good music. This is how I discovered (years late) Jeff Buckley and The Waterboys. From paying attention to music from TV shows, I fell in love with Eva Cassidy, Band of Horses and M83.

Music has a deep effect on people.I think this is why there are groupies who will get in line to sleep with someone like Mick Jagger even though he seems like a horrible, arrogant toad of a person. I know that I fell for the worst man in the world (for me) partly because he is a talented musician. A person I know well married a woman simply because she can sing. When someone once asked why he, being such a ladies man, had married such a plain woman, his response was crude but true: "Whenever I think about the other women I could have married, I just close my eyes and tell her to sing for me." Jackass.

One song I recently discovered gives me the creeps every time I hear it. It's from the show "Damages."



Ewww.... Makes me want to take a shower in holy water.

On the other hand, there's this song. I feel I need to listen to it after hearing that creepy song. It puts me in such a mood of worship even though I have no idea what the lyrics are.



Music. It's strong stuff.

Peace
--Free

Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Cootie Catchers and Life

Do we ever really grow up? I'm not sure that we do.

The other day, people here in Alaska received a $900 check, courtesy of the Permanent Fund Dividend. One woman I know (who is not wealthy or bill-free) spent the entire amount on a designer bag. A tote. Seriously. She went out and bought a Louis Vuitton Neverfull. And, If you ever read this post, you might not think I'd have room to criticize, but I was young and stupid. The person I'm talking about is old enough to know better.

The thing is, I'm not surprised that people spent their money on things like designer purses and big TVs because, while we all grow older, we don't all grow up. I believe that all of us, in some way, retain a schoolyard mentality.

When I was a kid, my friends and I wanted the latest or the coolest or the best-est of everything. As adults, we still want the latest phone or coolest car or best whatever. If we get a cellphone today and a new one comes out tomorrow, we are impatient for our upgrade. If we ladies get a Coach bag and our friends start carrying Pradas, we just have to have a Chanel or Fendi. It's like when I was in my thirties, had a great job and just had to have Edwin jeans for casual Fridays because Levi's were so damn common. A co-worker of mine (who probably thought Edwin was a boyfriend's name I'd sewn on a label) almost hurt herself going out to buy a pair.

If it sounds like I'm just picking on women, I'm not. Men are almost as bad. No - they're worse.

One of  my brothers is a car freak. He loves cars the way I love perfumes (and I love perfumes enough to marry my bottle of Shalimar). This is a man who makes good money and is smart with his finances. He doesn't give a flip what other people think so he's not into impressing others - except when it comes to his rides. The only time I've heard this particular brother of mine use urban slang is when he calls his cars his "whips." Lord.

Yeah, so we women might be little girls when it comes to our purses and shoes, but you men go all Peter Pan about cars and electronics. Hell, maybe even about perfumes.

This playground crap isn't just about material things. When we like someone, we want to fall into the old game of "I like you, do you like me? Say Yes or No." (Remember those little paper origami things called Cootie Catchers?) Within our close adult circles, it's the game of "She's no longer my friend, so why are you still talking to her?"

If we are a "football captain" or "cheerleader," we want to be the "brains." If we are the "Nerd" we want to be the "Hunk." And on and on it goes, where it stops, nobody knows.

Games, games, games. They're the same whether we're 15 or 50. The stakes are just higher. From schoolyard to nursing home. It's because we all have insecurities, we all want to be liked, to be loved and to be cherished.

So, maybe none of us ever really do grow up. I guess that just makes us what we are: human.

Peace
--Free

Post Script of two things:

1. I'm getting that freaking Vuitton bag. (As soon as Walmart starts racking them!)
2. I want to play Cootie Catcher with someone so I'm going to make one for the next time I see them.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

The Ideal Man & Woman

Sitting around on a week-day night, drinking alchol and eating hot wings with celery sticks and ranch dressing is not conducive to intelligent conversation between single and platonic friends. Nevertheless, this is what happened to me, a gay guy, two straight guys and a recently-dumped female. (Sounds like I'm about to tell a dirty joke, doesn't it? Maybe.)

We actually came up with (okay, mostly they, because I can't hold my liquor) a list of conclusions.

The ideal man:

  • (If really unattractive) has a fat wallet, and/or high-salary profession, and/or high profile and exciting life, and/or great bedroom skills. Or maybe he's just over-paid and overly generous to a fault.
  • (If moderately attractive) has a great job, and/or looks cute holding a kid, and/or has a personal charisma, and/or talks a great "game," and/or has great bedroom skills.
  • (If really attractive) doesn't wet himself in public.
The ideal woman:
  • (If really unattractive) has the same things as an unattractive man and/or is really smart, and/or is really cunning, and/or lacks any morals whatsoever, and/or can treat men like crap and make them want her just because they will never be sure they can keep her, and/or makes a man feel like he has the best bedroom skills ever.
  • (If moderately attractive) could do better but settled for the one she got, and/or has a great job and is generous out of stupidity or neediness, and/or has either great bedroom skills or great faking-it-in-the-bedroom skills.
  • (If really attractive) doesn't wet herself in public (unless it turns a guy on).
You'll think I'm kidding, but this is what came out of the conversation my friends and I had. (I might not want to be friends with a one of them anymore.)

Does it matter that we were all a little bit bitter and lonely, on our way to being pissy-drunk, and feeling completely safe with each other? Maybe. But, if you look at North America as a general snapshot of life, isn't there a little bit of truth in there? Don't you (even if secretly) agree with the observations? And, yes, I know that they are about as deep as wrinkles on a teenager.

My personal input about men didn't get past my declaration of "They need what they don't want and want what they don't need." My whole take on what I think men think of as the ideal women was completely bitter:

"She has the breasts of a nursing mother, the hips of a teenage boy and the ass of perfection. Must look good in heels." (I won't get into the whole big ass vs little ass debate.)

So - were my friends and I really lopsided and sexist and ignorant in our general observations, or did we actually see through the Jack and Coke to make some sense? (I don't care how you feel about the other stuff, I stand by my theory on the ideal woman.)

Peace
--Free

Monday, September 23, 2013

When Life Hands You Lemons...

When life hands you lemons, make...

Blah, blah, blah-ba-de-blah. Just another cute saying. Unless you put it into action.

After I read about this family - who turned an unfortunate happening into a beautiful event, I had to ask myself when was the last time I did something for anyone.

To be truthful, as generous as I would like to think that I am, I'm really more apt to break out into a rendition of "What Have You Done for Me Lately" than I am to be a quiet blessing to someone in need. And, you know what? Shame on me. My mother raised me better than this.

I can only count one decent thing I've done in weeks and weeks, and -  still being honest for the moment - it wasn't totally without selfish motive. (Loussac Library has set out places for food to be donated to hungry children. I dumped in a couple bagfuls a week ago. Generous of me if you don't count that I had just cleaned out every pantry in our apartment. Cleaned out of all the can goods and box-stuffs that the roommate and I never use. Don't even know why we had them in the first place, so... Yeah. Hold that applause for us two greedy, over-fed bitches.)

My parents taught me that generosity isn't giving a dollar when you have ten, but giving ten when you have eleven. In the case of my sorry-assed donation to those hungry children, I had ten dollars and gave ten cents. To children!

While there are young ones out there, in need of basic nutrition, I'm hoarding boxes of cereal (when I eat cereal once about every other Saturday) and 3 bags of brown sugar because, heaven help me if I ever run out of brown sugar for me coffee. Isn't that kind of pathetic? Even worse: my roommate has, at this very moment, a Costco-sized box of breakfast sausage in our freezer. That heifer don't cook! How big of us to give away three-month old food that we were never going to eat... Basically, we gave those children our throw-away food. We gave them our garbage.

(Right now, If I believed in ghosts, I'd be looking for my mother's hand smacking me upside my head.)

Since I read about the Fowlers, I've been telling myself that I really want to be better about sharing. I want to be a better person. The next time I have a chance to do something for someone - with time or money, or whatever - I want to give ten of my eleven.

I hope we all take the Fowler family up on their challenge to start a trend in giving.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Still Yakking About Hacking

(I know that my post title is lame, but it gave me a moment of joy.)

Since I discovered hacks for cooking, cleaning, writing and exercising, I'm just all about the hack. Here are some more of my favorite (mostly) food hacks or sorta-hacks and hack sources. The hacks are sometimes hacky and sometimes just cool ideas. Use, enjoy and pass along.


That's enough for today. I'm going over to check out that Rapportive add-on...

Peace
--Free

The Happy Dread of the PFD

Well, it's about to be that time of year again. The time when it's advisable to avoid Walmart, Target, Costco, Sams, Best Buy, Toys R Us - and any other place that sells anything.

For those who don't know about the Alaska PFDs, they are not personal flotation devices (and, yet, for some people, I guess they kind of are - of a economic type). They are the Permanent Fund Dividends.

The PFDs are about to be deposited into bank accounts all over Alaska on October 3rd. People who receive the money generally lose their minds. The impulse shopping will commence. Or maybe I can't call it 'impulse shopping' if people have been sorta, kinda planning it from the second the amount was announced.

I was at the library two days ago when it hit the news that eligible Alaskans will be getting $900. People reacted in various ways. Some of them shrugged because they know what they have to do with theirs and it doesn't include the luxuries of saving or taking a vacation. (Mine, for instance, is going straight for medical bills and car repairs.) Some folks got on my nerves with their complaints about the "small" amount. Other people went right into shopping mode. I swear I saw the Amazon and Best Buy websites popping up on computers all over the library.

I use my dividend the way my sister and mother and I always did before. Needs come first, saving comes next, whoo-hoo last. (There was usually very little to whoo-hoo about.)

When the kids were still at home, my mother, sister and I would pool everyone's PFDs and use part for the house (paying extra on the mortgage or replacing a dying appliance). Part would go for stocking up the freezer with enough stuff to keep the kids in school lunches for months. The year that two of the kids decided they wanted to be the Dizzy Gillespie and Robert Mapplethorpe of their high school, we sprung for an band and photo supplies. (And the fees - you never count on the fees that come with any extracurricular school activity.) For our kids that were teenagers, we'd give them fifty bucks of their dividend to hold. If they were younger, they got a hotdog with everything the next time we were out somewhere. The rest of the money went in the bank.

We used to get criticized by some friends because we didn't give our kids their whole dividend. My mother shut them right up. She'd tell them that our kids got their dividend all year long - when we paid their medical bills and fed and clothed them. The love was free, but because we weren't their bio-parents, they weren't covered under insurance from our jobs. Let a kid break an arm and need the local E.R. You can go damn near bankrupt.

All our kids are grown now. The ones who live here and get a dividend are dealing with their own families to take care of. So far, they've remembered how we raised them and always use any extra money well. If we taught them nothing else about the PFDs, they know to avoid the stampedes going on outside every major retailer in town.

What do the rest of you plan to do with your dividend? Save, spend or split?

Peace
--Free

Friday, September 20, 2013

One Note vs Evernote

Okay, so it's been a few days since I started playing around with Evernote. I like it. I like it a lot.

Last night, +Gabrielle B and I were on the phone. I told her about my new-found love in desktop applications. The heffa suddenly reminds me about Microsoft's One Note. (I can call her that because we're family and I say it with love.)

I think it was when I was using Windows Vista that I first saw One Note. At the time, I just thought it was this annoying something (I didn't know or care what) that kept popping up whenever I tried to use Word or Excel. I silenced it. It was getting on my nerves. Never thought about it again.

When I got off the phone with my niece last night, I took at look at One Note. I wanted to compare it against Evernote. Is it nice? Looks like it. Does it have many of the same features as Evernote? Seems to.

Right off the bat, I have to say that I prefer Evernote. For one thing, it's easy to start using (and then learn as you go). It looks neater and more organized. Also, as far as I can tell, One Note doesn't have the "card view" feature that I love in Evernote.

I'm guessing that One Note is every bit as good as Evernote (and it's free, so that's a plus), but it's going to take me longer to learn its ways. Since I'm in the middle of a project that's going so well in Evernote, I'll finish it first. When I have time to jack around with One Note, I will give it a try. Gabrielle is using it already and we've decided to keep comparing our work. (Of course, she's working on things to do with obtaining her Masters degree while I'm just effing around with some fiction. ~smile~ Really.)

Peace
--Free

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Best Writing Software (so far)

When I recently posted on some of the aids I'd found for writers, I skipped one: Evernote. I'd used Evernote on my Android and just wasn't impressed. Of course, I hate typing anything more than a quick text on m phone.

I gave Evernote (for PC) a try just because. Guess what? I really do like it.

One of the things I want in writing software is a way to take an organize pieces of a story. Scrivener has a corkboard feature which is nice (so do a couple of other programs, like Celtx Plus) but I wasn't crazy about everything else it has. Also, I'm still trying out Scrivener and Celtx (not Plus) to see if they are worth paying for.

Evernote has two advantages that I could see right off the bat. First, it's very easy to get started with so I didn't need to spend hours and hours figuring out all the features. It will take some time for me to get completely comfortable with the entire package, but I can work with it as I learn. Second, it's free.

As far as the ability to visualize and organize a story, Evernote doesn't have a specific index card type feature. The way it's set up, though, it gives me the same benefit as a board. Kind of hard for me to untwist my brain enough this morning to explain, so:

The "Cards" are in the middle pane


This is the "Index" view. The "Cards" are now shown as lists at the top.


This is the "Snippet" view


You get the idea, right? You can piece together your outline (or chapter and sections) in the right-side panel and still see an overview in the center panel. The far left side is a navigator-type section for all the different Notebooks and such. Because I am using the "free" version, I have the ads and stuff, but that's not a big problem. I am thinking of buying the full version.  To be honest, I'm not really using the software to it's fullest, but it's working well for me as is.

Good luck with your projects.

Peace
--Free

Sunday, September 15, 2013

For Writers

It's time to pass along some links for the writers. Let's just do it.

Websites

Functional Helps
  • Grammar Girl
  • Grammarly
  • Using Google "define" search operator (ex: define sassafras)
(also search for these)
  • OpenOffice
  • Abisoft
  • Libre Office
  • Neo Office
  • K Office
  • SSuite Office
  • Kingsoft Office
  • SoftMaker Free Office
  • Zoho
  • Think Free Office
  • Live Documents
  • Google Apps
Misc. Tools
And, finally, Just Writing


  1. Storybook
  2. FocusWriter
  3. WriteMonkey
  4. Ommwriter
  5. Q10
Good luck and, remember, only do it if you love it. That goes for everything in life.

Peace
--Free

** Be warned: Unless you want to be annoyed with the Cnet downloader's offers for other software, try to use "direct" links. Cnet's "offers" have not always been easily noticed in the downloading process. If you use theirs, watch carefully for the "add-on" offers. I once nabbed some stuff I just did not want & had a hell of a time getting rid of. ("Direct download" links are usually shown just under the big green Cnet download icon.)

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Tell Me If I'm Wrong...

I promised to tell how my life instantly got better, right? Okay. Here we go.

Since I've complained on here so much about my roommate, I'm almost hesitant to bring up the situation, but - there's an ending (I hope).

Instead of just "discussing" things with Noni (fake name), this third and last time, I put consequences on the table: if she continued to use the living room as a bedroom, smoking up the place and turning it into Pigsty Central, I was going to let her. As long as she wanted to pay for the privilege. I don't see why I should pay half the rent when I don't get to use a fair share of the living space. I explained that unless things changed BY the 13th, I was taking $150 of my part of the rent. & I'd give her a last "heads up." (By the way, I'm pretty sure the library was getting ready to charge me rent for all the time spend there to get away from the four walls of my bedroom.) Oh - in just a minute, I will explain why the 13th was an important date.

That discussion we had went great. Noni agreed that she was hogging space by not using her bedroom. She agreed that she needs to help with the housekeeping. She agreed and agreed and agreed some more - in between the tears. (Of course, all that boo-hooing she did made me look and feel the like Bitch of the Northwest. I am not kidding even a little when I tell you that she spent over four hours the day after our talk just sitting and sobbing like a lost child! I went back to the library.)

Fine.

Part of our discussion was about how, if she didn't get moved into her bedroom (to at least sleep), that I would be going to Walmart to put a futon and coffee table for my bedroom on layaway the minute I could. Layaway started on the 13th, which is why I picked the date for a Noni's "heads up." Yesterday, I had a friend ready to go by Walmart to set my things aside. Noni woke up at around the crack of nightfall - as energetic as a puppy - got dressed and went out with friends. (She selects her moments of energy carefully. This is a woman who has turned sleeping into a marathon sport. I've never seen a person sit that long without moving who didn't get sores on their ass. But the minute she has club to cruise by or wants to go shopping, she turns into a cyclone of movement.)

Fine.

I didn't want to ruin her whole night out, so I waited up for a while then emailed Noni , before I went to bed, that I was not planning on paying a full half of the rent this coming month - just like I had told her when we talked.

Around one in the morning, I woke up to go to the bathroom and my phone's email icon was lit up. Noni was letting me know that she just could not pay a bigger portion of the rent so she would be sleeping in her bedroom from here on out.

Yeah.

She came in about a half hour later and flopped down on the chair, ready for the night as usual. I just had to do it: I asked her if I should plan on waking up to the glorious sight of her passed out in the living room, as usual.

Now, why is it that people act all butt-hurt when they actually have to do the right thing?

Bottom line: Noni spent the next couple of hours moving some stuff into her room (making as much noise as possible, as if I give a flipping eff-you-cee-kay), huffing and puffing to put a grounded and pissed off teenager to shame. (Again, I should care how much?)

Since she actually moved and it wasn't to the beat of music, she'll probably sleep for the next three days. Good.

For the first time since - ever, I woke up and made coffee and started my day without having to look over at my roommate, feeling like this:



Peace
--Free

A Hacking Good Life

Life got instantly better for me tonight. I will explain that in a later post. The thing is, I'm in a good mood - a sharing mood.

If you haven't heard of Flipboard (for phone, in my case), I think you should check it out. It's basically reading, collecting and sharing articles: news, sports, life - whatever floats your boat. Any kind of "hacks" are currently floating my boat pretty high. Life hacks, DIY hacks, whatever.

Here are some of the hacks I've seen since subscribing to several "magazines" on via Flipboard:

  1. How to fold a fitted bedsheet. (It drove my military dad crazy that I'd just sort of roll them up. Neatly.)
  2. Repurpose an old fridge. (The term "repurpose" will start to get on my nerves soon.)
  3. Configure all cores of your processor for full use. (I can't wait to try that one, but on a clearer-headed day! Took three tries just to type out the link text.)
  4. Decorate with balloons for Halloween. (I don't do Halloween, but the balloon idea is cute.) Similar idea is here.
  5. Use YouTube as an alarm clock (How tight is that? I could wake up on gym days by jamming out to this. Or start off a Saturday morning relaxing to this.)
  6. Making these tea-light jars could be a nice bonding project for parents, aunties, siblings, whoever. (My sis-in-law Keva would have been all over this with my niece.)
  7. These freaking cute planters are something my niece Gabby will do. (If I call supermom Keva, Martha-mom & Gabby is Cathy Creative. I'm lacking. My planters would look like they had epilepsy.)
  8. I will be making the unpoppable bubbles for D.J., bet that. (Let me be honest: with or without D.J., I can't wait to try them!)
  9. If you're going to get one, make it a temporary tattoo. (Tip: You might want to get someone with passable artistic skills to do the markings, i.e.: not me.) Personally, I don't like tattoos on women. It seems un-fem, but, hey - that's just me. 
  10. Learn to say F.U. in different languages. Maybe if I say it in Latin, I'll sound like an educated sailor. (I see you looking back at #9. I'm not a hypocrite, I'm just complicated.)
  11. This hack is to simplify Wikipedia articles. (I checked this out. Meh. Not sure I could use articles that stripped down.)
  12. Use this site to remove your personal data from other sites. (Haven't checked out this one yet. What data do they collect?)
  13. Reading car dashboard lights. (I already know the main one for you-better-put-in-some-gas-before-you-have-to-walk-your-ass.)
  14. Guide to dressing well. (All Walmart shoppers - please, please, please take heed.) Just kidding. I'm generally okay, but I did wear a day-glo green watch with an electric pink jacket and "vibrant purple" nail polish with blazing blue sweats to the gym the other week. What the hell was wrong with me that day? Let's just file that one in a don't ask/don't tell file.
  15. Questions that an interviewee should ask (and that I'm going to send to all my nieces and nephews.)These questions are more than "impressive," they are vital.
  16. Educational websites for everyone. (I'm going to hurt my computer getting over to the ones on math. I found out the other day that if I was math-challenged before my sarc, I'm now math-illiterate.)
  17. A Google Maps mystery? (I actually did this and... I have no idea what is up with what I saw. Check it out for yourself.) Note: when instructions say to "go up" or "go left," it means to use the arrows of the compass at the top left of the map screen. 
Pretty cool stuff, right? Enjoy

Peace
--Free

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Where Did Manners Go?

I'm not sure what's wrong with people anymore. There seems to be such a climate of apathy*, a lack of common manners and personal pride. No wonder so many of the relationships I see are in trouble. People have forgotten how to treat each other. We don't care enough about strangers and we don't care much more about loved ones - not if you go by the way we behave.

I was at the store yesterday where a young woman with two  kids, one of them disabled, was struggling to deal with groceries and kids - in a rainstorm. She left her shopping cart near the trunk of her vehicle while she settled her kids in the back seat. One child was about three and, of course, she probably didn't want him taking off into the parking lot (like young ones will do). The other child, about seven, seemed to have a physical disability with controlling his movements. I had parked nose to nose with her and was getting out of my car when I noticed her cart starting to roll a little. Some impatient "gentleman" was trying to pull into the space next to her and the cart was in his way. He blared his horn over and over, for her to move the cart.  The poor woman was trying to finish seating the kids, but got flustered because this man would not stop. I went over and moved the cart out of his way so that he could lay off his freaking horn. And you know me: one day I'm going to get my ass beat from stepping to people who piss me off. I stood there long enough to give him a good shaming stare-down. When he was too chicken-shit to say anything, I called him a rude jackass. (I have angels flying around with their swords drawn to protect me from my own bravery, I swear.)

Why are people so damn rude and impatient? What was this man's problem? Did he think the woman had telepathic control of the cart? Was he in a hurry to get inside for his psych meds? What the hell? And I do know that I stooped to extreme rudeness in my reaction, but, damn.

I remember when it was almost everyone's natural reaction to hold a door for a person coming up behind. A few days ago, I damn near got taken out by a man shoving past me and throwing open a door to get into the library. People don't say "Please" and "Thank you." Kids are not being taught how to behave in restaurants (and, okay, baby D.J. is still learning), and no one seems to care about just being civil and courteous in public.

A friend of mine has a habit of belching like it's no big deal - no matter where she is. That's so ladylike, don't you think? Her excuse: "It's a natural bodily function. Everybody does it." As if "bodily" means "public" or "in your face."

In a conversation one time I said I thought it was rude for a man or woman to habitually (and loudly) pass gas around each other. I was told I was uptight.  One of the guys said, "It means you are comfortable around someone." (No - it means you don't give a damn. You certainly didn't make that first impression with a belch, did you?)

Maybe I am uptight, but I don't care how "comfortable" I feel with someone, I don't want to just blast out a belch (or whatever) around them. (Okay, wait - let me be totally honest: I will do it around my sister, just to mess with her!) I get it that "stuff" happens. Sometimes, it's cute and playful - like when my ex-husband would hold my head under the covers and threaten me with toxic fumes. Usually though, I try to maintain a level of respect for people. If I do burp, or - you know, do that other thing - I excuse myself (or try to play it off and hope it's' a windy day).

I'm sorry, but I think manners matter. You don't have to be a graduate of Emily Post to understand common politeness. With friends, lovers and family, I'm just not comfortable walking around, scratching my ass or blowing fumes all over them. (Obviously, I have no restraint when it comes to blogging about it all, but...)

My roommate is a chick who has no problem letting it all hang (or blow) out. We talk about it all the time. I harp on her the way my mother harped on me: "You'll slip up and do it in front of someone special."

We may be dysfunctional in a lot of ways, but my siblings and I are still courteous to one another. In public, my brothers treat me and my sister like the ladies we are. Of course, they will kill for us, but they also hold doors and walk on the outside of the sidewalk. (Then again, I have awesome brothers. Most of the time. Not that they don't give us a lot of sh*t.) My mother raised us to be this way. I don't know how I would feel if a man in my family didn't hold a door for me or treated me like I wasn't a lady.

I probably do sound like a throwback of some kind, but, oh well. I'm the woman who will not, for the first months of a relationship, let a man see me looking haggard in any way. (I'm still haunted by the nightmare I looked when I was in the hospital a few years ago: hair all jacked up, lips chapped and peeling... I don't even want to know what I smelled like after not being able to bathe for days. Ugh!) When I'm in a relationship, I keep two things on the bedside table: baby wipes for my face and a swig of orange juice for my morning dragon-breath. And men don't seem to have the same ideas, but I like being a woman. I think little things like that matter.

Yeah, so, let's get back to being nice people, folks.

Peace
--Free

(* Thanks, +Evelyn Blandino. My fingers were moving faster than my brain!)

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

G+ (2013) vs Facebook (2011)

I'm a big promoter of Google Plus. I'm as big on revealing my hatred for Facebook.

Google Plus is just a better fit for me. I like to talk to a variety of people about a variety of ideas. I don't want to simply sign in and check up on who has the coolest sayings or the day, the best motivational (or de-motivational) posters, or deepest proclamations of faith or love or- whatever.

While I love my interactions on G+, I've gotten a little bored with it lately. I'm starting to see a Facebook mentality creep in. A couple of years ago, I could be guaranteed to see serious discussions of news and culture. Lately, I see a lot of people just spouting off about meaningless crap. No offense to my circles (because you guys are awesome), but I'm not finding a whole lot more of your kind.

I've been offline a lot since I've had such chaos in my personal (offline) life. Hah! When I logged on earlier this morning, I scrolled through the list of people who've been adding me to their circles. I ended up spending about 20 minutes just "dismissing" all the folks with no image or tagline. I spent another chunk of time getting rid of the self-promoters, businesses, motivational speakers and avid self-photographers who want everyone to know just how hot & photogenic they are. (I won't even mention all the folks using G+ to hook up with someone - anyone.)

Guess what? I still haven't found but a handful of folks to circle back.

Where are all the people who are fun and interesting and conversational and knowledgeable about something they're not selling or talking-up?

One of the first people I ever added on The Plus was +Fraser Cain (publisher of Universe Today). I'm certainly no rocket scientist (or scientist of any kind), but I get turned on to some of the most interesting things from checking Cain's stream.

I've connected to people who I stay in touch with via email and their blogs. I have established online friendships with people who share interests with me (as bloggers, writers, fellow immune disease sufferers) and would be fun to hang out with if we ever met in "real" life.

There are some folks on G+ who have no clue who I am, but are generous enough to share their art and music with the rest of us.

Maybe I'm selfish (okay, that's been established), but I don't want to just "sit" on a network and watch it stream by. I like learning and connecting and getting something out of the experience.

So... I'm going back over to my "People" list again to see if there aren't at least a few I'll be excited about adding back. Else, I might as well have stayed on Facebook. I couldn't even type that without a shudder of repulsion going through my body. Speaking of being repulsed, did you know that there is still a MySpace. It wasn't bad before, if it was your kind of thing, but now... I don't even see what the point is. (Just my opinion, people. Please don't hate me for it.)

Peace
--Free

Monday, September 09, 2013

Kids. They Kill Me.

Thought about this after I posted some video of D.J. the other day: kids are way smarter than we adults might think.

D.J. is now old enough to concentrate for more than two or three minutes at a time, count (a little), tease people and do just the most embarrassing things at the worst possible moments in time. The one thing that bothers me is that he is just too smart about the wrong things.

If one of us adults starts to count, "One...," he says, "Tewwww." Kills me every time. (We haven't gotten him to say "Three" yet, but he will try to hold up that many fingers.) The other day, his mom wanted to dress him and he didn't want to be dressed. When she reached over to grab his arm, he snatched away and told her, very clearly, to "Go 'way!" This is a kid who can't say "Three"?

My sister gets upset whenever she sees him doing something like dancing along with Sid the Science Kid (or whoever that little purple guy is). She feels like, if he can dance and sing along with a TV show, he should be able to get out the first couple words of The Lord's Prayer. (She's working on teaching him the beginner's prayer of  "Now I lay me down to sleep". He's not co-operating.)

I may have already told how D.J. responds when I get to the house and stomp my feet on the floor (he stomps his, screams and comes flying to leap into my arms), but I'm kind of ashamed to say that his parents think I'm teaching him to be loud and unruly. Okay, so I am doing just that, but what the hell else are aunties for?

So far, my favorite thing about D.J. is that he is sweet. If he loves you, he can wrap his arms around you and make the sun shine on a cloudy day (and did I just steal a line from The Temptations???). Even though he can't yet say my name right, I don't really mind because I love the way he screws it up. "Tewwy." Yeah. Isn't that just the sweetest thing in the world?

I said that he's sweet because he is, but he has not one ounce of empathy in his little Saggitarian heart yet. I tried the old fake cry gimmick to see what he would do. What he did was just about fall over yawning.

No special reason for this post, except that I swore to myself that I would post something at least once a week. When there's nothing else interesting, I will always have D.J.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, September 07, 2013

The Sweetest Little Man in My Life

Whenever I go offline, some of the people in my different networks miss me. All of the people in my networks miss my little nephew, D.J.

So, especially for +Bill Brown and Miss Marla and +J.D. Hughes, here's a usual moment in the life of that kid of ours.

(Sure hopes one of these formats play for you guys.) This is D.J. helping his Auntie with her wheelchair:




He just adores my big sis, Auntie Mike (second to me, of course). I don't know where the kid gets so much strength, but he can actually push Mike around in her wheelchair. Notice how sweet and helpful he is! His next favorite thing is to help his mom put away groceries. He likes to carry the heavy shopping bags for her from the garage door entrance and into the kitchen so she can put things away.

Have I said before just how much I love this kid? We have a thing we do whenever I show up over there: I stop inside the front door and stomp my feet so that he knows it's me. He screams and stomps his feet and comes running to jump into my arms. I won't be able to catch that solid load of baby-body much longer!

So, just in case you wondered how I get through a bad day or mood... I just take a little dose of D.J. (Almost makes me wish I'd had kids when I could.)

Peace
--Free

Sunday, September 01, 2013

Saved by Ice Cream

Did I mention that I recently screwed up my 7 month smoke-free streak?

Yeah. When I eff up, I eff up with top marks.

So, now I am popping Chantix twice a day, which helps with the nicotine cravings but does not a damn thing for murder cravings. (I won't get on a rant about this, but my roommate makes me consider trading in the contents of my closet for a jumpsuit stamped "Property of County Jail.")

Anyway.

I'm such an oral person that if I'm stressed, I have to smoke a cigarette, chew a straw, drink anything fit for human consumption, or eat. Since I am finally getting my sexy back, I sure as hell don't want to go on an eating rampage. I don't even want to eat too many carrots or celery sticks because, eat enough of that negative-calorie stuff, a positive pound or two is going to slap itself onto my waist.

The thing is, when I stress, I don't crave salty the way I did when I was younger. Hormones or God's sense of humor has changed my body. Stress these days sends me running for the cookies, donuts or ice cream. The sight of a cookie turns me into a glutton. I don't do donuts in singles. Ice cream, though... Ice cream is a frenemy. I love it, but I have sensitive teeth so I can only do small amounts.

You don't know how happy I was to see this at Walmart a couple weeks ago:




This is the sh*t.  It's like Freezer-Aisle crack.

90 calories. It's just the right amount of heaven to keep me sane for a day. I swear, if I could, I'd marry one of these bars. Except that would make me one of those people who suffer from O.S. As if I don't have enough issues (that I told y'all about) to make someone resurrect Freud.

At any rate, I am trying to get my health act back together. Between the Chantix and the Snickers, I should be completely sane and mostly healthy within another month. So far, I'm still losing weight, and I'm hoping that my recent success with that doesn't slow down when the nicotine leaves my bloodstream. First-world problems, huh?

This is my life.

Peace
--Free