Category Archives: Emotions
Disposable diapers are like remote controls and video games. They are slowing us down and making us fat. Giving us heart attacks and diabetes and forcing us into gastric by-pass surgeries. Things like cloth diapers and clothes lines are actually the norm or at least the normal-norm instead of the lazy-norm that we have all grown to accept, in this disposable lifestyle that we live in. Where everything gets thrown away, wherever away is…. I believe that plastics are killing us, make ups are murdering us and hormone replacements are robbing us of our loved ones. read more
How would we be different if we spent our days running for our lives? I’ve been watching the wildlife, and it’s an interesting frame of mind to consider, especially knowing that every other species but us, and maybe our pets, does that very same thing. Life can and does change drastically for them in an instant. I saw a squirrel attacked by a very small and very far away cat the other day. It was freaky. This cat stealthed by me like nobody’s business, and next thing I know I heard the squirrel screaming(?) and saw a glimmer of it in kitty’s mouth. Almost instantly the squirrel was wounded, head bleeding, in my yard. I watched as she desperately tried to get away from a second curious cat but didn’t have enough to stay on the tree she climbed. Kitty number two lacked the interest, and I watch miss squirrel licking herself and stumbling around while flies gathered on her head. As I left for my walk, she was quite entangled in some bramble, and I wondered whether she’d make it or die suffering, no hospital destination to feel protected by. Just her, in the middle of the day, in some leaves, doing all she knew to do. When I left my driveway, stealth cat was headed her way. She wasn’t there when I got back.
This isn’t the first time I’ve wondered how different I would be, how life would be, if that was my reality. Would it be better? Would I live in the moment and not worry, savoring every nut? Or just react quickly to dire realities? Is the life I live better than that, or worse? People still die unexpectedly, people still die violently, and we still die from illness. It’s the in between, the LIVING, that’s so different. On which end of the spectrum have put ourselves? I do wonder.
true beauty to me is not being afraid of who you are. and not being afraid of who you aren’t, either. it’s hard sometimes to not wallow in that new varicose vein, or lump of cellulite, or cleavage wrinkle, but the fact of the matter is, it’s part of life. and true beauty dictates that we won’t be judged as people by our inconsequential details. that said, finding these things sucks! i literally lost my breath upon the discovery of my outward-popping leg vein. as my friend laughed hysterically, i remember thinking that i’d finally reached the point where things were happening in my body i naively thought i’d never have to deal with, but felt sorry for others when they had to. well ladies, here we are! but you know what? at the end of the day, seriously, i’m still walking, i’m still breathing, and my neighborhood isn’t getting bombed. a bit cliche, perhaps, but true. and i know i’m still truly beautiful because i go on trying to be brave and good, and lots of people love me, and i love lots of people. that’s true beauty to me. and i dig it the most.
ahh, the joys of special glasses. i love to collect them. you know the ones: your friend is moving and she has that wierd glass she kind of likes but doesn’t want anymore, your mom no longer has a complete set so you get one or two, the cool cup you find at a thrift store or garage sale. these make my day that much more lovely. i have a belief that if a drink is drunk out of a special glass it becomes more tasty and more of an event. i think we need as many of these small pleasures in our day as possible. make it count, i say, even if it’s just a glass of chocolate soymilk.
a few drinks i love out of my special glasses:
coconut juice and chocolate soymilk ( i prefer mostly coconut juice) cool, creamy, and delish!
tomato juice with a little tony chacheres seasoning salt (although i’ve discovered this has a lot of sodium)
port wine or sherry
water with a bit o’ pomegranate juice
champagne, always champagne!
Ahh, the joys of cooking. There’s nothing for me quite like getting a craving, buying all the fresh ingredients, putting on some great music, and cooking up my very own flavor creation. As long as I’m at home, whatever my heart desires that day is what I end up eating. So healthy! So good! So fun! Honestly, my days off are taken up mostly by cooking and eating. And I can’t bring myself to feel bad about it. In fact, I feel really good about it. So here’s to cooking what you love to eat! Now onward to some Japanese-style green beans and Sade. I hope you’re doing something just as nice.
Several times now I have awoken to large patches of splotchy red on my legs. At first I thought it was a spider bite, and it went away quickly so I didn’t worry about it. Yesterday morning it happened again, and this was the worse looking yet. Then last night I’d fallen asleep in my chair and woke up with the blotchiness on my other leg, and a red, painful area with some large bubbles on my other thigh. It hurt pretty bad, and definitely freaked me out because I don’t know what’s causing this. As I lay in bed, I decided maybe I should take an antihistamine just to be safe. I turn my light on. Two seconds later a giant spider drops down onto my leg. Great. Now I really feel like sleeping. I knocked him off, went and got the pills, and looked under my bed for him. There he was, all long-legged and creepy. Using a glass I scooped him up and threw him outside. I felt better knowing mister big was gone and fell asleep surprisingly fast.
I also woke up surprisingly fast to what sounded like a tree falling on my house. Turns out it was just a very large limb of a tree that fell on my house. Reeling about that, I look up to see another giant spider on my window. Shaking-uncharacteristically- I got him in my bug catcher with great difficulty and threw him outside, wondering if I should look up those pictures of brown recluses again. Guess what? There was another one on that same window! At this point, I had to use the bathroom. Looking up constantly to make sure no spiders were descending upon me, I walk into the restroom and there’s another one on my shower curtain. I sprayed hair spray on that one (sorry). A minute later, I’m standing in the middle of my cabin looking around,and it suddenly looks like a dark, scary haven for giant spiders. I just stood there, with the chills, and was afraid to start doing anything I would normally do in the morning for fear I’d run into a bunch more.
Now, I’m normally very brave when it comes to these things. I’ve had a roach in my mouth, a mouse crawl across my face, and beetles dive-bombing me while I sleep. I take it all in stride. I know I am a strong, capable woman who can clearly take care of herself. But last night something hit me: I don’t want to do it all alone. I want someone to have my back. I don’t want to have to write down on a pad of paper next to my bed what’s happened to my legs in case something bad happens to me and I’m not able to explain it to the paramedics who come to take me away. I even left them pictures of the spider next to the paper so they had all the info to figure out how I’d died or gotten really sick. Sad, huh?
I don’t know how to go about finding that fabulous man I’d love to be with, and right now there is no one here to tell me it’s all ok, or make sure I don’t rot away from poison in the middle of the night. All I do know is that my leg still hurts, these spiders are not brown recluses, and I’m going to have to sleep alone again tonight, wondering if there will be another mister big crawling around me as I sleep. Oh well. Be brave and go forward, right? I’m working on it.
My oldest, Mia, just recently celebrated her fifth birthday, and while it means she is at a beautiful, creative, fantastic age to most people, to me it has “get your act together now” written all over it. The truth, is I’m scared of what goes through her beautiful little mind and I’m desperate to convince her of her beauty. There are some girls in her preschool class that because of her eagerness to make friends, somehow make her feel like she’s not cool. Of course these girls parents drive nicer, newer cars than us and wear a different outfit everyday. Neither of which we will ever do. keep reading!