Blogging Is A Team Sport

It was a gray, dreary day . . . until I opened my blog and saw a message to me from gossip_girl awarding me the Liebster Blog Award!   The skies opened and the sun shone, music started playing, angels were singing, and the day suddenly became glorious!  Okay, that's a "little" dramatic, but it WAS a nice surprise.  I discovered gossip_girl a while back.   Her "recipe" for her blog intrigued me - 1 cup of "oh hell no," 1/2 c of controversy, 1 T of humor, and 1 t of Entertainment Pinch of My Opinion, stirred all together.   She is funny and provides a unique perspective on everything she writes about!   Check her out at http://myworldaccordingtomeii.blogspot.com/.

It is now my pleasure to award the Liebster to five of my favorites (I have lots of favorites, but the rules state I must choose five - - and I am nothing if not obedient).   So, here goes  - -

What can I say about Mark at http://markyswrite.blogspot.com/ ??   You can tell that he is a product of the hippie days, and it is awesome to look into his heart as he writes about things so dear to him.  And I learn new words every single time I read Mark's blog.   Definitely worthy of this and many more awards.   (Although I have a sneaking suspicion that he doesn't need an award to measure his own worth).

Larissa is adorable.   She is young, and smart and has a fresh, optimistic approach to her writing - - and I imagine how she writes is just how she lives her life.   She is beautiful!  http://papaisapreacher.blogspot.com/

If you want some great, creative ideas on decorating your home, on a shoestring budget, no less, you have got to check out Jennifer!   She is in "the process" and I am totally going to steal some of her ideas!   Plus, she is a hot shot shopper, and I totally want to shop with her!!  http://shabbywhitesandmuddyboots.blogspot.com/

I liked noisyquiet from the moment I first read her "stuff."   She is random, like me, and has a great sense of humor.   She always makes me laugh, which is one of my favorite things to do!  http://noisyquiet.blogspot.com/

Sebtown always makes me think.  I think what I like most about her is that I always end up thinking new thoughts, and I like that . . . a lot.   I always tend to open my mind and broaden my views.  http://sebtown294.blogspot.com/

If I had known that I would "meet" so many awesome people, I would have started blogging years ago!   Thank you to all my fellow bloggers who make life a little bit more interesting! 

So Long Davy

I just heard the sad news - -  Davy Jones of the Monkees died of a heart attack.  I loved the Monkees.   I grew up watching them on TV.   I remember once telling my dad, in my innocent, youthful way, "Dad, you've got to watch this show, it is sooooooo funny!!"   And to my dad's credit, he sat down and watched it with me.  I kept looking over at him to see his expression, knowing that he would just be cracking up at everything that Davy, Mike, Peter and Mickey said.  I couldn't understand why he wasn't laughing.  It was sooooo funny.  I realize today in my adulthood that the Monkees wasn't funny to my dad in the same way that The Simpsons isn't funny to me the way it was to my children.   I'm old.   Not to mention that the humor of the Simpsons is kind of . . . oh, what's the word?   Stupid.

Here's to Davy Jones, taking the last train to Clarksville, on his way to the big stage in the sky.  And I'll be daydream believing about him all day long.

The Milkman Cometh!

I was watching the news last night and there was a segment about the high gas prices.  Ugh.  I almost turned the channel  The thought of paying $4 a gallon almost makes me sick to my stomach.   The thought of paying $5 per gallon DOES make me sick to my stomach.   But then I saw a truck on the news . . . a truck I recognized.  The news segment was filmed in Orange County, California, where I grew up.  It was following a milkman and his truck to see how the high gas prices impacted him and his business.   And on the side of the truck was a sign - "Rockview."  And I excitedly yelled to my son, "Look!!  Look!!  That's the dairy we used to get our milk from!"  "Mom, I'm sitting right next to you, you don't have to yell."    I was so excited, and seeing that truck, and the milkman with his white uniform and hat, brought back so many memories!  The Rockview milkman was part of my childhood and, thus, part of my life!  

The Rockview milkman used to deliver our milk, twice a week, in glass bottles, and leave it on the front porch.  Who does that anymore?!  Well, apparently Rockview still does!   How cool is that?   Sometimes there would be orange juice or chocolate milk waiting on the porch for us as well.  And sometimes, when we would run out, we would drive to the Rockview Dairy and go through their drive-through, and they would bring out what we needed and sometimes my mom and dad would buy us ice cream.   And that sweet memory brought back another, and then another and another, that I will share in a subsequent blog.   There used to be a dairy on the corner across from our junior high school.  It really stunk, but to me it was a good kind of stink.   And there was an orange grove next to our elementary school.   That dairy and that orange grove have been gone for many, many years, but the memory of them is a part of me.

Simple times, or so it seemed to me as a child.  Magical times, as seen through my child eyes.   Thank goodness for my parents and parents around the world who provide those sweet, simple, magical times for their children.    

Too Many Letters in the Alphabet

Okay, I'm getting a little nervous about this A to Z blogging challenge I've committed to for April.   You know, one day write about something that begins with A, and write everyday thereafter going down through the alphabet, all the way to Z.  Crap!  I'm starting to feel panicky.  I'm not very good under pressure.   Why did I commit to this?   What was I thinking??!    But, I DID sign up for it, and I will follow through, even though I haven't the slightest idea about topics.   I was thinking about it this morning - - whether or not I should plan ahead of time and list out what I would write about each day.  I'm kind of a shoot-from-the-hip kind of blogger, but maybe it would be easier to have it all figured out before.   

So, for the letter A, all I could come up with is "Alligators."   Not the kind that will play and romp and roll with you . . . and then eat you with their gigantic sharp teeth.   No, not that kind.   The kind in one of our local bakeries.   It's kind of a creme puff, but heartier.   It's shaped in a long triangle, and I guess if you use your imagination it kind of looks like an alligator's head.   It's filled with lots of whipped cream, and has about three pounds of chocolate frosting on top - - with two M & Ms to look like eyes.  I'm sure some of you are ready to reach for your insulin, but I like that kind of thing.  That's not the problem.  My problem is this - - with all the "A" things in the world, my cream filled, enough-sugar-to-slip-you-into-a-coma baked good is the only "A" thing I could think of - - how pathetic is that?   And if I start down that path, does that mean I write about bagels, and then cinnamon toast crunch, and then donuts . . . and on and on?   (You'll notice I stopped at "E" because "E" is a hard letter.  I don't like hard.)    Sigh.

What's a girl to do?
  

Anywhere, I Don't Care . . .

I realize I just came back from a five-day trip.  And I hate to be greedy.  But . . . I think I need a vacation.  A real vacation.  One where you don't have to make your bed.  Okay fine.  Sometimes I don't make my bed when I'm not on vacation, but I feel bad when that happens.   Or a vacation where you don't have to worry about making dinner.   Yeah, yeah - I know - there are a lot of days when I don't make dinner either, but I feel guilty about it.     Or a vacation when you don't have to pick up after yourself (or others) if you don't want to.   Don't say a word.   I need guilt-free time - - time where you don't have to think of anyone but yourself and about having fun with the people you are with.     I don't really have a dream vacation in mind.  You know, a place you've fantasized all your life about going someday - posters on the wall, an empty passport waiting to be stamped.   Some people dream of visiting the Eiffel Tower, or the Coliseum in Italy, or seeing the changing of the guards in London.   And those are all great destination places.   But I don't have my mind set on any one thing or any one place in particular.  There ARE things I'd like to do and places I'd like to see that would really make me smile, though.

First of all, I don't want or need to leave the country.  I think the United States has plenty of wonderful vacation spots and fantastic things to see right here on our own soil.   And there are so many crazy, wonderful, weird things to see off the beaten path.   Once in a while, when we map out our vacation from point A to point Z, we need to put the map aside and not be afraid to take a detour (unless you're in the heart of West Virginia - then be afraid.  Very afraid - I saw "Deliverance.").  Instead of going from A directly to Z, go to points B and F and M and Q and THEN to point Z.   And you don't even have to have a known destination - just head off in any direction until you find something fun and interesting.  You never know what wonders you will see!   The other day my sister was talking about taking a "sisters trip" to the 100 mile swap meet - - I think it starts in Kentucky.  That would be a blast.  

Second of all, I don't really want to go on a cruise.  The thought of being on a big humongous ship out in the middle of the ocean kind of leaves me feeling claustrophobic.   What if I didn't like it and wanted to leave??!  I'm not a very good swimmer.  And - I also saw "Jaws".  I think I could live without ever stepping foot on a cruise ship.

I would love to go to Disneyland . . . again.  Yes, I grew up there and went to Disney dozens of times.   And I have so many good memories of the happiest place on earth.  But now that I live in a non-Disneyland zone, I long to be a tourist, spend marathon days at the park and stay at the Disneyland Hotel (before we were married, my husband and I used to sneak into the hotel swimming pool - they have a GREAT pool - we were such rebels!).     

My husband has always wanted to go crabbing on the Oregon coast.   And, it's been a long time since I've been to San Francisco.  That might be fun.  Lombard Street.   Alcatraz - it's haunted, you know.    A ghost hunt has definitely got to be in my future at some point.   There are a ton of places in Pennsylvania that are purported to be haunted.   And, Pennsylvania is on the other side of the country, where my husband has never been.   So, we could couple the ghost hunting with a lot of other fun sight seeing ventures on the east coast.  And connect with an old friend.

See, I'm easy.  It's not going to take the Louvre or the romantic gondolas in Venice to make me happy.  Just a week or two away when we can just have fun, be together, and forget about "real" life for a while.  

Or, in other words, a vacation :) 

  

Workaholic . . . Not

I'm not at the table because I left work early.

Yea!  It's the weekend!   This two-day work week has been soooo long.   I don't understand the workaholic's mindset.   And I'm sure they don't understand my "workaslittleasyoucan" mindset.  I basically work because I must.   If I want to have a life, I must collect that paycheck every two weeks.   I don't consider my work my "career."   It's almost as if I put my "real" life aside every morning when I come into work.   When I leave at the end of the work day, I reclaim my "real" life.  I go home to my husband, and my home, and my dog, and my children when they are there . . . I go home to my life.    I think the workaholic must get something very satisfying from their work.   Maybe their work IS their life.   I don't know.   I'm just glad I'm not married to a workaholic.   He works very hard and is very good at his job.   And, even though he doesn't mean to, he sometimes brings his work home with him - - worrying about the kids and wondering why they have such crappy parents.   But he knows that home and family is where it's at, and that's why I know he is NOT a workaholic!  (Perfectionist, yes.   Workaholic, no.)

So, anyway, to all you workaholics and homeaholics and playaholics - - have a wonderful weekend!!

Routine

Back to the routine.   There is something very comforting about routine.   My routine now happens to be work, home, eat, errands, sleep.   If I didn't work, my routine would obviously be different.   But whatever the routine is, it is grounding.   It's always fun to go away for a few days or even a few weeks.   But coming home always feels so good - - or should feel so good.   It's coming home to safety and . . . comfort.   There are a bunch of things that can make you feel safe and comfortable.   Deadbolts on your front door, for instance, so no uninvited "guests" can enter.   Some people think that owning guns brings security to their lives (I don't happen to be one of them, but . . .).   Sometimes certain foods can make you feel comforted.   Thus, the term "comfort food."   Macaroni and cheese, meatloaf, grilled cheese . . . whatever it may be.   Some food can make you feel safe and comforted.   Whether it is just the good memories that those foods bring to the forefront, or if there really is something in certain foods that brings the feeling of comfort, I don't know.   But comfort foods are real.

Sometimes being with certain people can bring the feeling of safety and comfort.  Like a spouse, for instance.  Or mom and dad.  Even as a grown up, I always feel that comforting feeling visiting with my mom.   I feel that way with my husband, of course, and with my sister as well.    

What about the comfort of a regular paycheck, or having a little money in the bank?   Or having a roof over your head?   

One of the biggest comforts to me is prayer.   Knowing I have a Heavenly Father who knows me and loves me and listens to me brings such comfort and makes me feel so safe.   Safe knowing that as long as I am trying every day to be a good person, then no matter what happens, all will be well.  Now THAT is comforting! 

Yes, everyone needs something that brings them comfort and a feeling of safety.  Whether it is routine or deadbolts or mac & cheese . . . there's no better feeling! 

You Bought A What??!

Ok, so we got home safely from Oklahoma after a nice visit with my parents and seeing my father "paroled" from the nursing home and being safely and ecstatically ensconced back at his real home. So, back at our home I asked my oldest how it had gone. He said, "I bought a rifle.". "Why would you do that?" I asked him. "Well," he said, "it's because of what happened Thursday night.". Hmmmmm. "What happened Thursday night?", I questioned him - kind of nervous to hear what he would say. This is what he told me. Thursday night my son and his wife were sound asleep when they were awakened by someone pounding on our front door (it was past midnight). He went upstairs to see what was going on. Izzy was barking like mad. And some guy was indeed pounding on our front door yelling "let me in. This is my house.". Well, duh, it WASN'T his house. He was drunk (sounds like a Marine we crossed paths with many years ago), my son opened the door a crack and told him this wasn't his house. Well, the drunk was sure it WAS his house so felt it was okay to kick the door open. Which he did. And he walked in. My son couldnt get him out, so he called 911. In the meantime, the drunk walked to our kitchen and proceeded to check out the contents of our fridge. Guess we didn't have what he was craving :) The cops came, convinced the guy that this wasn't his house and watched him go on his merry way. More than anything, I think I was more ticked at the cop who didn't even ask the guy for his id, and then watched him for a minute while he walked down the street. He obviously was way drunk, was at least 12 blocks from his home - what would keep this guy from walking up to some other home and kick his way in, thinking it was his? He seemed harmless. But still - what if he wasn't? Anyway, that's what made my son think he needed a rifle :)

A Longing To Be Noticed

To love and to be loved is life. Love, respect - basic human needs. As I walked down the halls of a nursing home yesterday, I looked into the open doors of the residents' rooms and I was sad. Some with bare walls and bare stares. Others with family pictures on the walls and on dressers, and drawings from great grandchildren who loved them. And with hope in their eyes. Some were being wheeled down the hall to the lunch room - shoulders hunched, faces down. All with most of their lives behind them. And I visited my dad. And he was frail, sitting in his wheelchair, but with a bright mind and smile in his eyes, and a longing to be home. And I knew then - all these people had families - all were sons and daughters, most were fathers and mothers. And they had lives and stories and a longing to be loved and noticed - and not forgotten. And they each deserved to be treated with respect and dignity for a long life lived. And I was very thankful for caregivers who actually cared.

Quickie

People!   My husband and I are going to Oklahoma today - - - flying, which I don't like.  With my luck, the inflight movie will be "Snakes on a Plane" or "Die Hard 2" !   No, actually, we are flying on small planes which don't show movies and the seats are so close together that you become very well acquainted with your neighbor.   Did I mention I don't like flying?  I have my Kindle so will be reading the whole time so hopefully I won't notice how rickety the plane sounds and how far up in the sky we are, and what a long ways it would be to fall.   Think me weird, but I texted my children a picture of our life insurance card with all pertinent info on it - - I know.  I know.  Flying is much safer than driving.   Blah Blah Blah.   I still hate it.

So, hopefully I'll be around to check in with you tomorrow :)

Stoic? I Think Not

Woke up this morning feeling a little sad.  Don't know why when there is so much to be happy about.   So, I will just will myself to feel happy.   Because I think happy is a choice.   And I think anybody who's not crazy or evil would choose happy.   And although I'm a little weird, I am not crazy, nor am I evil.   So, happy it is.   Which triggers a memory from years ago.  

I worked with a woman many many years ago.  I was single and not very experienced in life, but I think I can say that my life was good.   She was single also and her life wasn't always the easiest, nor was it always filled with goodness.   But she always came to work with a smile, and it was planted on her face all day long.  Always.  No matter what.   Smiling.   To tell the truth, it kind of annoyed me.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe I was a little envious.   (Someone called me stoic once, which I had to look up.  I'm sure Mark could have told me what it meant.   Somebody impassive.    Patient/uncomplaining in the face of adversity.    I didn't like the first definition.  It's not a good interpretation of me.) 

Anyway, back to my co-worker.  One day her smileyness must have really been bothering me because I KNEW she wasn't happy.  So, and maybe this was really rude of me, but I asked her this:  "How can you act so happy all the time?!?!"    Her answer has always stayed with me:  "I'm not happy all the time.  But I figure if I smile and act happy, then eventually I will become happy."   I looked at her differently every day since then, and l smiled.  I learned a great lesson from her that day.  Happiness IS a choice. 

Choose happiness.  The alternative will make you stoic.

Freak out

These double word verifications are freaking me out.

Three Things

I just want to mention three things this morning that are on my mind - -

First, my husband and I went to see Woman in Black last night.  All the other couples were going to see "The Vow."   But, being a scary movie lover, I had been looking forward to seeing it for a long time.   The only thing that was keeping me from being full-blown excited about it was Harry Potter . . . or, Daniel Radcliffe, as I'm sure he would rather be known (since that IS his name).    Like a zillion other people (probably mostly kids), I have lived Harry Potter for a decade.  And so I was apprehensive that Woman in Black would be a let down.   Well . . .I was kind of wrong about that.  It was scary and did make me jump - - a few times.   That's the good part.   The not so good part - -  every time I saw "him" (which was the entire movie because - duh - he's the star), I thought of Harry.   There was even a scene in the beginning of the movie with "him" on a train - - and it looked just like the Hogwarts Express!  Seriously!  The only thing missing was the sign "Hogwarts Express" on the front of the train.  So . . . I have decided that I need to see Woman in Black again - - and this time I am going to force myself (somehow) NOT to think of HP . . . If that doesn't work, then I guess he will always be Harry to me :)

Second, it is my son's 21st birthday today!   Since he lives out of town, we are visiting him and celebrating tomorrow - - I won't bore you with how awesome he is, but he is!!

Third, the Big.Huge.Mirror.   This morning.   Ugh.  

Content

Everybody is talking about Valentines Day today.  And I sit here, at a loss for words.  Not because I'm not married to a wonderful man.   I am.  And he is.   Wonderful.   And kind.  And romantic.   And I look back over the last 25 years and am so . . . content.    The dictionary defines content as:  "happy with what one has or is; not desiring something more or different". 

I am content (thrilled, really) with my choice of companion.  I don't desire nor could I ask for something more or different.   And together we raised three most awesome children.  Yes, I am content.  

And, yes, I am (mostly) at a loss for words to describe my feelings about this day.  

So, I think what I will do today is just . . . smile. 

I hope you have something wonderful to smile about today also.

     

Real? Really?

I am back.   However, I feel like poop and wonder how a little cold can kick my butt so badly.

AND, having spent a lot of quality time with my television these past five days, I also wonder a couple of other things.  (Okay, fine - - maybe not "quality" time, but time nonetheless.)

I wonder - - what is so real about the Real Housewives of Orange County?  I know - not a question whose answer will benefit mankind, but still . . .  Having grown up in Orange County, I can tell you that I have never once run into a housewife like that before!  True, I didn't grow up in Newport, or in a gated community.    However, I DID grow up in the "real" OC.   Where "real" people live.   What is so real about a woman whose hair is blonde (not real), whose anatomy parts are huge (not real), and whose goals in life, so it seems, are to have more money and things than her "friends" and to use more swear words in a single conversation than the entire population of South Central L.A.   Really???  That's a "real" housewife of Orange County?  That's a SAD housewife.   I'll tell you what a REAL real housewife of Orange County is like . . .

She's the mother of four girls, and one boy, who adore her.   She lives in a modest three bedroom house in a neighborhood that borders a noisy, very busy freeway.  She takes a taxi to the grocery store for many years because she doesn't have her drivers license.   She takes her children to church every Sunday.   She gets up every morning, helps her kids get ready for school, and then heads off to work to help support her family.  She then comes home at night, dead tired.   She makes dinner for her children while her husband works his night shift.  She helps her children with their homework or listens to them talk about their day, when probably all she really wants to do is lay her head down or take a bubble bath.   She does the laundry, and cleans the house, and takes the kids school shopping.   She will lay down on the floor and watch movies with her girls, even though she usually falls asleep during the movie.  

Her children have never heard her say anything bad about anybody, let alone swear like a sailor (or most teens in the hallways of your average high school).   And her children know everyday that she loves them.  

THIS is the real housewife of Orange County.    Vicky, Tamra, Gretchen and all the other fake "real" housewives of Orange County have nothing on this woman.  In fact, they could learn a great deal from her about what it means to be a woman, let alone a "real" housewife of OC.

Nyquil Rehab

So is there such a thing as Nyquil rehab?? I have had a steady dose of the stuff for about four days now. There is no guarantee that this will make sense :). During these last four days I have either watched or slept through ten episodes of Animal Cops Houston (and cried at every episode that I was aware of watching - I'm sure my emotions were on hyper alert due to my drug-induced state). And I found a new show: Street Dogs of South Central- so sad - why do I do this to myself???? I watched or slept through just about as many episodes of Police Women of Memphis and Police Women of Maricopa County - much preferring the Memphis copettes, because of the accent, I think. Those are really some tough chicks. I've seen or slept through way too many reruns of Ghost Adventures and Paranormal State and believe that I saw a few apparitions myself - NOTHING to do with the green stuff I was drinking, I'm sure. And have used a couple rolls of toilet paper (no Kleenex in the house). I am ready to return to the of the living, as soon as the Nyquil wears off :)

I Hate Being Sick

See you all in a couple of days after the NyQuil wears off :(

Word Association . . . of a sort



Melodies amongst the orange groves!

I started reading a new book last night.   It's called The Haunted.   (You know me and my ghosts - - gotta love 'em).   So far it's a pretty good book, although I'm only a few pages into it.   The "Haunted" place is a big plantation home in Virginia called "Melody House."   But, I'm not going to talk about the book.   However, this morning I was thinking about The Haunted and Melody House, and the word "melody" stuck in my brain for a moment.  And then the word association thing started happening.  And a memory was triggered.    Melodyland Theater in Anaheim, CA. (Melody House - Melodyland - - get it??!).  I grew up in Anaheim, and the Melodyland Theater was a theater in the round, and it's where I saw my first concert.   This will date me just a little (like the Melodyland Theater hasn't already dated me - duh!) - - it was the Association.  Ha!  Word "association" brings me to the Association!  Sorry, couldn't resist.   The Association - you know - - Along Comes Mary, Windy . . . .   What fun that was.  I think I wore a dress.  Those were the times!  (I also saw the Mamas & the Papas and Simon and Garfunkel at the Melodyland Theater - Dave Clark Five were there too but I didn't see them - - dang!!!) 

I decided to google Melodyland this morning, and found that it had been turned into a church, the Melodyland Christian Center (I don't know why but I thought of Footloose when I read that - my mind works in mysterious ways).   And then some years later the building was torn down and is now part of the Anaheim Gardenwalk.   (On a side note, some years back my husband and I took our children to Disneyland and I wanted to show them the house I grew up in - - it had been torn down to widen the 5 freeway! - - just another testament that nothing really stays the same.)

The Melodyland Theater was located across the street from Disneyland.   And as I thought of that, another memory was triggered.   Another group from way back whom I absolutely idolized - Hermans Hermits.   Peter Blair Dennis Bernard Noone.  I loved him.   That schoolgirl crush thing that I knew was the real thing.    I was his biggest fan and I was going to marry him.  And we would be so happy.   And then one night I was at Disneyland with my friends and I saw PBDBN and the rest of his Hermits!   Honest!   Oh man, it was so exciting!!  My friends and I followed them all over the park.   We giggled, and we hid so we wouldn't be seen, and we dared each other to ask for an autograph.   Of course, it wasn't really them, but we had the best time convincing ourselves it was!   And, of course, I didn't marry PBDBN.   I married someone better.   Far better.  But those were some of the good ol days. 

And this trip down memory lane all started with the Haunted and Melody House.

Civility Rocks

As I was driving to work this morning I got to thinking (I really need to start walking to work again).   Weird things happen when I start thinking.  And this was no exception.  I have had this thought before - -

What makes people stay within the lines of their own lane when they are driving?  Seriously.   What makes people obey traffic laws (besides the fear of getting caught)?   What makes people drive with the flow of traffic, instead of against it?   Or to stop when the light is red, or the sign says "Stop"???    Now, I realize that some people like to flirt with danger and actually speed up so as not to have to stop at a red light.   And I'm from California, so I know all about those California stops.     But, seriously - - unless you have some physical ailment (heart attack while driving, for example) or some mental handicap (craziness, for example) that might draw you to the other lane of traffic, or onto the sidewalk or off of a bridge, what keeps us on the straight and narrow path, so to speak?

And not just in our cars, but in our lives generally?    Everyday when we wake up, we have choices to make.  Our lives are a series of choices - - on the highway as well as in life, some choose to break laws and do harm to themselves and to others.  Most, however, choose to obey the laws and do good (thankfully).   Why?   Well, as I was thinking about it, I came to this partial conclusion - - civility.  And conscience.   I think we are all born with an innate sense of civility and conscience - - of what it takes to be a good person.   It's part of our DNA.    Some people lose that along the way for whatever reason, but most recognize it and nurture it and realize that we as human beings are much happier when we choose to do good and follow our consciences.

Anyway, those two "C" words were my thoughts this morning.  Maybe I shouldn't drive to work anymore.   By the time I got to work I was already so tired of thinking!   I think I should go home and take a nap.  

Listening Equals Caring

This subject came up a couple of times this weekend with different family members, so I thought it might be worth a mention. 

Has someone ever asked you a question, simple as it might have been, and then didn't really listen to your answer?   You could see in their eyes that they were not listening to you -- that they didn't care about what you were saying.  They were probably calculating what they were going to say as soon as you stopped talking.  Because, as we all know, what they have to say is so so much more interesting and important than what we have to say.    Or maybe someone asked you a question that was designed, maybe subconsciously (maybe not), to lead the conversation back to themselves?  

After thinking about it, I could think of a bunch of people that I know who are like that.   Feigning interest in your life, they cozy on up, all sweet like, ready to pounce and start talking about themselves.  If the conversation were really back-and-forth, with real interest on both sides about what the other was saying, that would be a different story.  I would glady sit and listen as so-and-so regaled me with stories about their trip to Mexico and so-and-so bragged about their children and their amazingness.  And I would be interested.  But it should go both ways.   The truth is, however, most people are very self-absorbed and don't care much what you've been up to and how you are feeling.   Most people have never learned to listen.  Most people don't realize that listening means loving and caring.  Or they do realize that, but they only love and care about themselves.  Listening is something we can all do.   Really listen.  Listening doesn't cost anything, except maybe an investment of time.  And a whole lot of sincerity.   

And on the other hand, we all need to be listened to once in a while . . . really listened to.   So, if you have a friend, or spouse, or whomever, who knows how to listen - - make sure you tell them how much you appreciate their gift.   

This topic sounded really familiar so I did some checking - - I wrote about this same thing back in October.   Guess it must still be bothering me :)   And maybe I need someone to listen to me - lol.

Anonymous

Someone help me out.   What is Anonymous?   I hear bits and pieces about it, but don't really know what or who they are.   I googled it to try to get an understanding of it.  This is part of what I found - -

Anonymous claims that they have gained access to the servers for the United Nations, PlayStation Network, Xbox Live, US Bank, Capital One, Chase Bank, Twitter, Facebook and YouTube. If their demands are not met, they will take down all of these servers.

For the banks, Anonymous claims that they have the account info of every client at these banks. They want to reassure citizens, however, that they are not going to compromise their information. They only want to make a statement to Congress.

As for Congress, they have a very special message – “To those who support PIPA and SOPA. To those congressmen who want to vote yes on these bills. We are not f'ing playing.”

This group of internet users communicates without consistent usernames on various chans. Between posting gore and porn threads, Anonymous stages largely unsuccessful raids on other websites.

They kind of sound like pathetic, not very good thugs to me - - ". . .if their demands are not met, they will take down all of these servers."   "We are not f'ing playing."   ???   Maybe the Bad News Bears of the internet, although not loveable. 

Maybe they're not even worth the mention here . . . I was just wondering . . .

Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain!

I just made travel arrangements to go see my parents in Oklahoma.   Oklahoma would probably not be a travel destination were it not for my parents.   I do, however, have good childhood memories of visiting family in OK many years ago - riding horses and watching my uncles do their thing in the rodeo.  I loved their accents, and their seemingly easy way of life.   My parents were both born and raised in OK, then moved to California, where I was born and raised.  Weird, though, because even though my parents were born and raised in OK they don't have accents.  I wonder if they had accents when they were younger?   And don't accents follow people when they move?   Hmm, a question I will leave unanswered because, frankly, I don't really care about the answer.   What I do care about is when people say "Warshington" instead of "Washington."   There is no "R" in Washington, people!   Anyway, that is totally off the subject.

When my dad retired, they moved back to OK, mostly because their retirement dollars would go a lot farther in OK than in CA.  So, that is why we now are flying to OK and not some other place to visit my parents.   My dad has been in poor health and in the hospital/nursing home since October, and this will be the first time we've been able to see him and my mom in a while. 

I don't really like to fly.   I always think the worst and have to make sure that all our "papers" are in order and where our children can find them.   I know that airplane crashes are few and far between, but that doesn't stop me from silently freaking out.   And then when we land, we will have to drive our rental car an hour and a half to my parents' house.  It's not just planes, but cars as well . . . or trains . . . or busses . . . or horse and buggy . . . any kind of transportation.   Thinking about getting in any one of those modes of transpo kind of makes me anxious.   But, I'm sure it will be okay.   (Right???)

Anyway, this is not about me . . . it's about lightening my mom's load for a few days and hopefully cheering up my dad.   THAT is worth the silent freak.

LOL . . . Not

A while back I was on facebook and I innocently said "lol" on one of my comments to a friend.   Big deal, right?   That's just part of the "language" - - everybody uses it.   Well, my daughter, who is away at college, saw it and HAD. A. COW.   Royally.  I'm surprised she didn't disavow our relationship, or at the very least, unfriend me.  By her reaction, you would have thought that I had publically confessed to some horrid crime.  All I did was use "lol."  Well, apparently that IS a horrid crime.   She said:  "MOTHER, DON'T EVER SAY THAT AGAIN."   I'm sorry, never say what again?  "NEVER USE LOL . . . EVER . . . AGAIN."   Well, okay . . . I guess . . . why?   "Because it sounds creepy coming from you."   It sounds creepy coming from me??   Gee, thanks.  My daughter marches to the beat of her own drummer (for which I am very grateful and proud).   So I thought it must just be her. . . marching . . .  to some weird drummer thing or something.  I can live without saying lol if it will make her happy.

Well, I thought it was only her - that is, until I was on facebook a couple of days later and read something my grown niece had commented on, and in her comment she used "lol."   Again, no big deal.   Mmm, maybe not.   Her teenage daughter commented right after that and said, "Mom, ewww.  Don't use lol.  It's creepy."   

So, that got me thinking.   Are moms (and dads) just not supposed to use lol . . . ever??  And why is it creepy when we do use it?  And is it only creepy to our children, or is it creepy to everybody?   And if lol is taboo, what other little texting/facebook language rules are there for parents?  Is there a manual?    Can I use ROTFL?  How about WTS?   DWL?  EL?  GFETE?   And why is there a shortcut for "curly lips"  - - :3  ??  Who would ever use that??  And why??

So confusing.   Maybe I should stick to the telephone where I can actually laugh out loud and it's not creepy.   Ah, well.  The only thing I know for sure is that I will never ever use lol on facebook or texting again.   Out of respect for my daughter, the marching drummer.

TTFN

Creepy and Freaky

I haven't said much about the paranormal lately.   I've been a little disappointed in Ghost Hunters - - nothing creepy enough to make me jump.   I like to jump!  The movie "Insidious" made me jump.   "A Haunting In Connecticut" made me jump.   Very creepy, both of them.   And I'm looking forward to "A Woman In Black" in a couple of days.   Hopefully Harry Potter - - er, I mean, Daniel Radcliffe - - will make me jump.   

So, in lieu of Ghost Hunters, et al. making me freak, I found this picture.    Tell me what you think.

It took me a few tries, but I finally saw it and it made me jump.   Creepy.  Freaky. 

They're creepy and they're kooky,
Mysterious and spooky,
They're altogether ooky,
The Addams Family.

Sorry, that just popped into my head.  And now it's going to stay there all day long.

Anyway, as far as the picture goes - - maybe that explains how Izzy keeps getting on the dining table.