Cards Against Humanity...Irreverant but Funny

Apple to Apples it isn't......it's similar.....but if you are expecting a PG rated evening of silly answers and mildly provocative topics.......this is not your game. 

Cards against Humanity is the 20 something generations version of Apples to Apples on Steroids and a fifth of vodka with a xanax and a 151 shooter.

It is irreverent and crosses the censorship ratings of what today could be considered M/A for mature audiences only. However, most of those playing may not necessarily be considered or meet the definition of "mature" during gameplay.

Cards against humanity is a topical card game which allows the players to delve into their dark side and complete the phrases with the cynical and sometimes depraved answers they would never dare to speak aloud in normal conversation.  And yet, at a table filled with diverse players and friends from all walks, no offenses are taken. Laughter  roars and the game rolls on.

I admit I was at first shocked at the nature of the questions and answers. But after a short period of observation, I too began to laugh.  I know....I know.....Most of those from my generation simply would NEVER understand......but I did. Maybe its having children at a a later age and understanding the generation. But, I even found myself willing to join in. 

Its not for the sensitive or easily offended.  It can be dark, racist, sexually explicit, and irreverent in a million and one ways....but....if you take it with a grain of salt and realize it is meant to be humorous like a raunchy comedic act, it can be just as fun as all the other games in your arsenal.

Caution...this is an adults only game. It is not a family friendly game for all ages.  Not recommended for children under the age of 18 (they should not even be in listening distance). But if you want to spice things up and shake off the boredom....this will do it.

Picken, Picken, and more Picken.....

Everywhere I turn this week someone is picking. Nose pickers at every stop and every turn.  There are the pickers who flick it , the pickers who carefully inspect it, and the pickers who wipe it on their britches. There are the pickers who ever so slyly eat it, that's right...Eat it, and the dainty ones who pick it from beneath their nails and eventually wipe it on a tissue, which...by the way..should have been used to begin with. They are at stop lights, on the freeway, in crosswalks, grocery store checkout lines. Even in their office cubicles.  Pickers!

Pickers of Seats.  No not picking a seat to sit in...the other kind,  picking their pants and undies and whatever else ails them out of their butt cracks. They are picking, pulling and tugging. Subtly and not so subtly lifting their skirts and dresses to free the wedgie, or stuffing their sausage fingers down their greased stained jeans to itch and pick the not so comfortable behind. Could it be an atomic wedgie, a poorly fitted thong, a remnant piece of toilet paper? Whatever the cause, take it into the stall people. There is nothing subtle about picking your ass in public.

And of course...we can never overlook the ever wonderful and oh so appetizing scab pickers.  Sit on a Max line for more than 5 minutes and your bound to see one.  Someone picking at their scabs. Scratching, peeling, pick..pick...Pick. Aha, got it, and now the ooze and blood.  They either flick the scab, like the afore mentioned booger picker, or they eat it. And as for the blood, well much akin to a vampire, most chose to lick the blood or suck on  the wound until it stops.  Ever so appealing and appetizing to observe. Scab pickers are fascinating because, unlike other pickers, they will share how "gnarly" that was with their friends and those around them. Subtlety is not a requirement.

I think I might have discovered a new diet craze.  Its called the Picker Diet. Look for pickers in their various forms and observe them in their native habitats and.....**poof**....instant weight loss. Loss of appetite is guaranteed. Side effects may include vomiting, queasiness, and nightmares.

One Mile At a Time

When I suddenly and without warning found myself critically ill last fall, my life changed forever. In many ways life became more than I ever expected but so did my limitations. Life became bigger and brighter, fuller and more challenging, but darker and smaller and more confining and in the same moment. A battle of contradictions and the need for me to learn to find my walls and know when I hit them and when to climb over them or just sit this one out.

For a while,as critical recovery took place, the concept of ALL travel had vanished from from future.  But as I get better, as I build my new norms and learn to construct my new road map, I get to establish my own idea of limitations.

I am only limited by that which I allow myself to be constrained.  All limitations have solutions and boundaries which can be surmounted with enough effort and forethought.

Stress is a big conveyor of blood disorders.  It causes high blood pressure for those prone to it, it causes heart issues, headaches, depression, digestive and sleep issues. Stress is clearly something to avoid. So step #1 when planning a vacation or trip......choose something you will enjoy, something relaxing and that you look forward to.  If the idea of your trip causes you great anxiety and the destination brings with it a feeling of dread, then its not a vacation.  Don't do it.  Step #2 ...Plan, but don't plan. Have a plan in place, but be flexible. Be willing to adjust.  You don't have to have all your hotels booked ahead of time (This is so hard for the OCD personality like mine).  Your ultimate destination hotel is wise, but the little stops along the way can change, so wait.  Sometimes you can get really great deals on short notice.  There will always be a room to be found. And you never know exactly where your journey might take you. Have a little faith. Step #3...take your time.  Stop frequently, stretch, relax, take detours, and just breath. Enjoy the journey (thus the reason for #2).  For me, road trips, especially to areas of high elevation can be dangerous to my ongoing health.  Therefore frequent stops, lots of water, and movement are critical. But after this trip, I think that practice should be the norm for everyone.  It makes the journey so much better. Cramming a 12 hour drive into a single move with only gas and restroom breaks is torture on everyone.  Take the time to relax, stop every 2-3 hours and really stretch, relax, and appreciate where you are (15-30 minutes minimum). Stop if you need to stop. Drive if you want to drive. And get a good solid nights rest each and every day.

I believed the idea of a road trip was forever out of my reach, but with the proper planning and time frame, we made it work. And it was AWESOME! There was no stress, no pressure, no dread, just time and appreciation and marvel.  We drove one mile at a time, and it was the best journey I've ever taken. The American Road trip can be a dream if done the right way. From Portland to Yellowstone and back in 7 days.  It ain't bad.

I'm Just a Simple Girl

I'm just a simple girl. I like things simple and clean. I'm not big on clutter and over indulgence. KISS.....is more my style....Keep It Simple Silly.

I can be powerfully independent if need be, but I like having a man to fix things for me. It's not that I can't fix them myself, but it's nice having someone to take the burden for me. I don't like bugs or anything creepy crawly.  I can go soldier brutal on their tiny little army all on my own, but if I can step back and let someone else take the creep factor out of my day......I'm not above playing the girl card.

I don't like slimy, greasy, or smelly things.  I prefer not to partake in hard manual labor. I'm not opposed to heavy lifting or cleaning, within ladylike limits (10-15 lbs.)  I am more of an organizer and detail girl not the nitty gritty down in the grind guy.

I like wearing sandals and fashion boots and pretty dresses. I wear delicate scents, clean and fresh. The skin on my knees and hands are delicate and thats because I dont get down on the ground and wear callouses on them.

It's a matter of choice. Am I capable of doing some of the things I ask of my man? Well.......of course I am. I am an intelligent grown woman perfectly capable of a great number of things and able to resolve any problem I face or encounter.  I am logical yet intuitive, I am creative yet methodical. However....I enjoy being a woman and allowing myself to be cared for. Taking as step back and being feminine and gentle enough to say thank you and please.  Its a fine line but one I walk with grace.  I appreciate having a man who is willing to take on the things I less prefer and cares enough to want to.

I don't like facing that giant spider on the wall, or shoveling the poop out of the yard. But I do enjoy the comfort of relaxing in the spider free room or enjoying the cool summer night while watching the stars in a poop free zone.

The perks of being a simple girl, wearing dresses, being feminine......He gets pretty and sweet, helpful and kind, and I get manicured lawns, spider free corners, and and someone to cuddle with at night.

Glenda - Soul Sister

Today I'm going to write about my dear friend Glenda. I feel compelled to explain why I feel convinced, once again that family is not about blood, it is about heart and soul.

We all know, whatever doctrine we subscribe too, that before we enter this realm we existed in a spirit realm waiting to be born.  That's where we all take a different fork in the road. I believe we communed with our friends and we were family bound by love and kindness. We were genuine and selfless and we awaited our turns for a vessel in which we would pass through this realm, a blink in time on our learning path through eternal time. One existence informing another.

Part of our challenge here, is that many of the friends we called family in that spirit realm are waiting for us to find them as they to are trying to find us. Its like going to the DMV and taking a number ticket from the machine and waiting in line. Sometimes you might end up at the same ticket window (or in the same family if the vessel is available), but more often that not, you end up somewhere else and the journey begins to find your way back.  Passing through mortality is not like signing up for match dot com where they found the siblings that had the most interests and traits in common with you and were the perfect fit, it was luck of the draw. 99% of us find we have little in common with our birth families besides a small amount of genetic material.  It's true, most of us grow up then grow apart and go our separate ways.

Family is where are heart takes us. Our souls are like divining rods continually pulling us towards something or someone. A compass to guide us home. We often feel obligated to fulfill the neo-traditional familial roles. To try to maintain those links and those bonds even when they don't feel natural. But there is no shame in the realization that the real bond lies elsewhere.  You can appreciate where you've been and the people who were a part of that, but at the same time, its OK to admit that your joy is found more fully somewhere else. Sometimes life begins by letting go. Changing your expectations of yourself and others and simply following your heart. It may lead to family, it may lead to friends, but it will always lead soul to soul.

Glenda is like a big sister to me. She has wisdom and kindness I cherish, and yet she values my wisdom as well. We are equals and yet we are both individuals with lives fully lived and experiences to guide us. Glenda is one stop on my way,... a  point on my compass which tells me I'm heading the right direction. I'm gathering my spirit family one by one and it grows all the time. She is an important part of it.  I know this for certain.... I count her amongst my most cherished, and my search never ends. My heart is always open.

Water Ballon - Waiting to Pop

Yep...That's my bladder. As I sit writing this I need to pee. Truth be told I've need to pee for about an hour now, but I've been occupied and holding it. Now its at a critical stage, and its not good.  If I stand up to walk to the bathroom which is at least the length of a football field away from my desk, the water balloon may burst or at least spring a leak, but if I don't get up and go in the next 5 minutes, it will undoubtedly spring a leak without any movement or pressures of gravity whatsoever.

Here goes.......Ahhh

I made it. The balloon held, no leaks sprung.  I scampered with teeny tiny tiny strides quick like a bunny and made it. It was an Austin Powers moment (for those who understand that reference  - kudos).

Here is the problem, as children, we face the dilemma of wetting our britches from birth. It becomes a stigma around age 4 and we learn to hold it and build our endurance.  Either that or hide it until we grow out of it.

But somewhere, somehow as we get older things change again.  I can usually hold it really well for a long time. Unless............I cough, sneeze, or laugh. then like a leaky faucet....so does the bladder go.

I drink a lot of water because its good for me, but then I have to pee that much more. Sometimes I don't drink my water when I'm at work, just so I wont have to go pee.  Have I mentioned how much I hate public pottys. I can drink and pee all I want at home, I feel safe and secure there. But public bathrooms just seem......well just so......public.  Honey Buckets are retchtastic (yes that is a word in my vocabulary) and those bathrooms they have in campground that are just gigantic hols into the abyss, ummmm no thanks. I would have loved to live in the old world renaissance days for all their clothes and style, but the plumbing and piss pots would have done me in. 

Time Bending

I woke up this morning and realized I am magical. I must be a wizard or a fairy, or some other wonderful creature.  Its true, because I can do amazing things with just the power of my mind.

I age, but I never feel older. Its like I've found the eternal fountain of youth. Old people are still old to me, I'm not catching up.  I'm NOT! No Really......I'm NOT!  Young people, well...its not that I can't relate....it's just that they are getting younger than they used to be when I was their age. It's like they drank from the fountain too and even though they are 20 something they really aren't......you see?  It all makes perfect sense in my mind. 

When I sleep at night, I go places and I am active and energetic and full of fit and vigor. I get all my exercise in between the hours of midnight and 5:30 a.m........no, no, no,  get your mind out of the gutter....not THAT kind of exercise. I go hiking, and climbing, biking, and running, I am 30 and fabulous always. It's refreshing...but it also explains why I wake up so tired.  I need a nap from all that exercise.

When I sleep, I become the ideal me, but the truth is, even when I'm awake she's still here.  I may not have the energy of dream scape Lisa, but I have the heart and soul. I love my life.  I embrace my friends all generations, and yes these days they span the gamut. I love the quirky and the simple. I am fortunate in so many ways to have people who surround me with love and kindness and always, always, hope and good cheer. We all have good days and we all have tough ones, but I see them all as a gift and each is full of magic fairy dust waiting to show me the wonders of tomorrow.

To appreciate the true majestic of a mountain you have to have a valley to look back on, to see where you have come from. The highs and lows are both beautiful in their own way and each are a part of the journey.

Cast and Release....It's time to Trust

I am realizing more and more every day, as I watch my boys lives take shape and the lives of their friends who I have watched grow up with them, that my role as mom has truly changed.  Its no longer coming or somewhere off in the distance, its here and now.  Its happening with every breath I take and every tick of second hand on the clock.

Being Mom has been the greatest challenge and the greatest gift of my life.  It is the accomplishment I am most proud of.  There are no rules or guidelines, no templates, or standard operating procedures for being a parent. We each have our own ideas, our own paths, and though we share our successes and failures with each other, no two children are alike and and each experience is unique.

I have been mom (and for the last ten years dad) on a daily basis for 22 years. It is ingrained into to core of my being at this point. Even as they set out on their paths, creating their own lives and families, I will remain mom as long as I exist.

My sons make me laugh with all their boy humor. They exasperate me at times, again with all their boy humor, but also with their independence and strong will. They have challenged me with their intelligence and need to be heard. But they have loved me, and supported me, and made me proud. They have the courage to stand for what they believe in and to make the tough decisions that set them apart from the crowd when necessary.  They follow their hearts, but they also follow their instincts and their ethics.  They know right from wrong and they embrace it.  They reach for the stars and the moon and the whole damn universe, and they push themselves to the utmost. They have their lazy moments, but they have those times when energy and determination is limitless.

Being a parent is never easy, its blood, sweat, and tears ....lots and lots of tears.  Sleepless nights, miles of taxi driving, compromise, and endless love, and worth every nano second.  And they each go by so quickly that once gone, it feels as if it was merely a blink.

I have made many mistakes in my life, learned many lessons, started and stopped and restarted again, but the one thing I know I got right, was being a mom. No doubt about it. 

Folklore - Fairytale - Fables

This week was the end of another semester in college for my oldest son.  His writing class required an essay in which he either had to write and analytical about a specific form of folklore, or a creative rewrite of a popular folklore with a modern day twist.  He chose the analytical because the paper was shorter.

His topic was was Religious Folklore, and it admittedly sparked a great deal of thought.  It was provoking and controversial but well argued.  Let me just say up front for those staunch and dedicated believers, that it was only meant to provoke discussion and inspire active thinking.

What I did discover through the process was that folklore is in most every lesson we learned as children and that we in turn taught our children and they will teach theirs.  Unless the lessons learned are based of factual experiences, most are anecdotal. They are symbolic or mythological in measure and they carry an underlying message. Be kind and you will receive kindness in return.  Love thy neighbor as thy self. Patience is a virtue. To err is human, to forgive divine. There are biblical lessons are about enduring through trials and tribulations, and resisting temptation. More obvious fables tell us that slow and steady wins the race, be careful who you trust, the grass in not always greener, be careful what you wish for.

Folklore, fable, and fairytale, are all made up stories. They may have been inspired by something real, but the fact were blurred and stretched made fantastic or terrifying to convey the message better and deliver the lesson with maximum impact.  Then...over the centuries, through telling and retelling, translations, and re-translations, even more twists and changes occurred until the stories we know today rarely if ever resemble the true manuscript and meaning.

I enjoy reading. I enjoy the escape of being transported to another place and time. I enjoy garnering lessons and wisdom from some of the text I read, while others are pure entertainment.  But I do recognize that many of the stories we were raised on, both biblical and literary, are simply that stories. Did a man who was 500 years old REALLY build a giant wooden boat in a time before tools and and then gather two of every single creature on the planet inside while it rained torrential downpours for 40 days and nights until the world was nothing but water.  Was his family then responsible for the entire re-population of the world after the rains receded?   Did the world really get made in 7 days and were Adam and Eve and their two sons really responsible for the entire population the the planet until the flood of Noah destroyed and killed everyone? Was everyone in Sodom and Gomorrah really so wicked that they turned to salt?  Did moses really part the red sea with his staff as he people walked through with walls of the sea on either side of them. Did he talk to a burning bush? These stories are more likely metaphorical for the lessons they are meant to convey. Made fantastic to keep the attention of the masses. Lazarus, Samson & Delilah, The Fish and Loaves of Bread, The Wedding Feast Water into Wine, Jonah and the Whale, David and Goliath, Daniel and the Lion's Den.  Jacob's Ladder, The March of Jericho.  Wonderful stories.

Folklore, Fables, and Fairytale's, like Cinderella and Snow White, each story has a meaning, some more prophetic than others, but they are stories written by men.

It was an analytical essay, well thought out and thought provoking, and it helped to point out that religion requires a great deal of faith, because the logical mind will find clear flaws in the feasibility of the tale.  Religion, regardless of your doctrination, requires blind faith and trust, an ability to see beyond the veil of realities limitations. Its all about Miracles.

Signposts in the Pebbles - Searching for Agates

The state of Oregon has a Beach called Agate beach on which the shore is covered with stones instead of sand. Not all of the stones are true Agates, you have to search for the treasure, but the beach is stunning none the less and unique to stand on.  The sound of the waves as they roll in over the stones is melodic at times while gentle, and rises to a thunderous roar during a storm surge like a thousand thousand hooves approaching across a cobblestone drawbridge.

I mention the Agates because friends are like those agates, gemstones hidden amongst the masses, each beautiful, but that special and unique one, takes time and care to find and once you do, you treasure it.

I was told yesterday by someone that I was "dead" to them. Without cause or provocation, this individual saw fit to accuse me of withholding items belonging to my father, left when he passed away 19 years ago, of which I was never in possession of. When I tried kindly to explain that I did not have the items, the anger surged and like the stormy sea, the thunderous hatred spewed. I attempted to show compassion for whatever troubles were causing the distress elsewhere in this persons life to trigger such an extreme and illogical reaction, but my attempts only fueled the fire.
In the end, I remained "dead", one amongst many I was informed, and I simply wished the individual peace and happiness.

As I thought about it throughout my day I realized that this too was just another signpost in the pebbles, reminding me of the path I walk and why. I have chosen my path carefully with much consideration and my heart is filled with family each one carefully hand picked. My family are precious Agate stones, some are blood of my blood, like my sons and a handful of others, but the majority are not.  They are unique and special stones found each one uncovered by a different wave washing over and rolling out to sea. The reflection of the sun hitting this one just right, the gleam of the moon catching that one just so, each one found and cherished and loved with great care.

The family I have chosen, the family I have, would never name me "dead" but would help me fight to live. Even when I am gone some day, I will live on through them and in their hearts, they will not see me "dead" as someone else so carelessly labeled me yesterday.

I Grow Weary.....

Do you ever just grow tired of the people in your life who are on perpetual roller coasters and can't seem to find footing enough to stand still long enough to take measure of the life they have and how lucky and blessed they are? 

I grow weary of those who wash in and out like ocean waves on the shore. Willing to touch my life tangentially for a brief moment and then vanish again. Repeating the cycle in unpredictable sequences with or without cause created in their own minds and justified through phantom actions which no amount of defense can surmount.

I grow weary of letting people in who I know will inevitably turn away as they have done time and again, simply because I don't want to be cruel or unkind and make the first cut.

I grow weary of unfounded accusations and unstable people who throw them around foolishly blaming others for offenses unfounded and baseless.

I grow weary of the emotional toll it takes to placate the irrational, and the elevator ride from the penthouse to basement that never ends on broken cables.

I grow weary of caring enough to worry rather or not there will be a next time. I've done all I can, I am who I am. I live my life honest and truthful, loyal and open hearted. I don't know that there is room for pettiness and and unbridled anger and bitterness.

I grow weary of trying only to fail in spite of my best efforts and owing to nothing I have control over. And I grow weary of facing the emotional guillotine and having my head placed on a figurative spike every few months because of imagined offenses which never occur.

I am committed to ending my weariness, curtailing the allowance of these individuals in my life, and focusing on those who lift me up, and make me smile.  I don't expect perfection from my friends, but an open and even exchange of kindness and hope, laughter and tears, absent of accusation and petty grievances and intolerable vengeful behaviors.

Silly Childhood Lessons...We Still Live By

We all grew up with rules and etiquette's seared into our brains and conditioned into our actions and behaviors so deeply that to extract them would be like removing a vital organ.

As logical thinking adults we can observe and reflect on some of these rules and traditions and realize the absurdity in them, the flaws in the very premise of their purpose, and yet......we foster them further and pay them forward, nurturing another generation to carry them onward.  Some of the inane can be broken with us, and some leaps ahead despite our best effort not to propagate the insanity of our parents and their parents before them. But some rules are made to be broken, and some are not.  What if.....what if....what if there is the slightest chance that some truth and basis can be found for that construct that really is important.  Is it worth the risk, just to prove I'm right, better not chance it....hide the thumbs.

So the thumbs you ask....well I heard about a girl whose gigi (grandmother) told her to hide her thumbs if she ever passed by a Hearst or they would fall off...to this day as a grown woman,  whenever the funeral procession goes by and Hearst approaches she instinctively tucks her thumbs inside her palms and holds tightly until it has passed. There is also the belief that one should hold their breath while passing a cemetery to prevent unsettled and evil spirits from sucking your soul and possessing your body. Absurd, but what if.....

Don't swim for an hour after you eat or you might die....REALLY? There is absolutely NO medical proof of this to be found anywhere. Toss it out as complete malarkey. Clean your plate, there are children in china who are starving. Again, where is the logic in this? How is a child in America stuffing their belly going to help or hurt a child somewhere else in the world struggling from hunger? If your child can't clean their plate, give them smaller portions. If your worried about waste, make smaller yields. If your worried about world hunger, donate to a charity. But force feeding a your own child only exacerbates issues related to eating disorders including: obesity, body dismorphia, anorexia, bulimia, and long term mental and physical health issues that can result from the primary eating disorder itself. The results can be lifelong and catastrophic.

Don't make that face it will freeze that way, UNLIKELY! Lice, bugs, and rodents are only found in dirty, unclean peoples homes....UNTRUE!  Money makes the world go around, the more you have the happier you will be.....I've seen the wealthiest of people who are more miserable that the poorest I have ever known. Happiness is a choice that comes from within. 

Blood is thicker that water, family is all you have in the end......I disagree...Blood is just blood, it flows just like water. In the end, you have those who care for you most, who have been loyal to you and you to them, family is what you make of it, who you chose it to be. It is not genetics and DNA, it is heart and soul and connection. Our souls find each other despite what bellies we came from, and family is as it was in the beginning before we entered this mortal test we call humanity. The truth is we were all family before the veil and will be again after we finish our paths here.

Don't look at the sun, it will blind you...Well I can still see. :)  Don't watch, read, or listen to profane or unclean content or subject matter, it will corrupt you....I think I'm still towing a pretty ethical and moral line.  You need to go to church weekly to ask forgiveness for your sins....I think I'll be o.k. without the manmade building and business of organized religion with its hypocrisy telling me the difference between right and wrong. I will spend my time enjoy the world and nature around me, appreciate the beauty and wonderment of all creation and atoning for my shortcomings through acknowledgment and the endeavor not to repeat my mistakes.  I am flawed, but I am learning with every misstep I take.

In summary, hide your thumbs if you must, but breath, those who have past are not going to steal your soul. Eat and swim, you won't die. Eat until your full then stop, a little waste isn't going to hurt anyone, compost it if you feel guilty. Your face will not freeze that way, creatures inhabit even the cleanest of homes, money does not buy happiness, family is who you chose it to be, all religion is flawed, follow your heart and your own path. And remember ....Whatever lessons your parents taught you were taught to them by the generation before, many came out of fear and ignorance. Its o.k. to break away.

Champagne Wishes and Cavier Dreams....

In my world they are more like Fiji Water wishes and Xanax induced dreamless sleep dreams. Ahhhh, the perfect end to a chaotic week.  I can even honestly say with the help of my CPAP that I don't even hear the the snelling (Snore Yelling induced by over tiredness and a 24oz superbeer) laying next to me....yanking covers, crumpling covers, twisting covers......Yes, I think I might be sleeping with the Tasmanian Devil.   I make through the night without even realizing Taz has made our bed look like the tornado from Wizard of Oz just ripped through our room in the middle of the night, while I slept right through it. Where are my ruby slippers?

This reminds me of the time I dozed off in the living room chair while watching TV with the boys and I was so tired that during my 20 minute catnap, I was so deep in sleep that although I could feel their presence and hear their laughter I had no idea they  were laughing because they were standing 6 inches from my face yelling fire as I slept on. Those boys..they do like to torture mom. I guess I'm good for laugh every now and then. :)

It's all new to me this sleep thing. I'm like a kid in candy shop. I can't get enough.  It might help if I kept normal hours like a real human being, going to bed before 2 a.m. when I know I have to wake up at 5:30 a.m. and rise and shine...feet firmly planted on the ground... o.k....o.k. at least stumbling ever so carefully up the hallway bracing myself on the walls by 6:00 to be at work by 7. Maybe if I tried to go to bed by midnight those 2 extra hours would make the firmly planted feet more feasible? Nahhhhh, that's just crazy talk.

As for the champagne.....Not a fan....bubbles in my booze give me a headache..I'll take it straight up please. Drink it like you mean it.  If it doesn't burn going down your doing something wrong.  Am I right?   O.k. seriously...I don't drink very much. I have a very low tolerance level and don't like things that taste bad or rancid. I'm a sweet wine girl, red wine gal, or vodka martini with two olives and a twist please.  No tequila, no bourbon, no rum, no whiskey.  When I do drink its conservative, I learned my lesson years ago, barfing booze and spinning rooms are simply not fun. They suck.

So to recap....Revamping Robin Leaches catch Pharase it now states Fiji Water Wishes and Xanax non-Dreams.  That clears things up and makes for a nice evening. Cheers!

Feeling Spicy......

So this week I'm on a roll.  Making changes, trying to focus on the positive side of transition and reminding myself that change is the only constant we can always count on so why not just let go and embrace it.

In honor of that spirit, I have chosen incremental and monumental changes myself. Simple and small, inexpensive, but impactful to my daily emotions and well being.  I started with a daily adoption of practiced meditation. I am not turning seeking any sort of religious guidance or instruction, but simply  a calming peace and force within myself. It's simple really; 10-15 minutes of breathing and inner monologue reminding myself to focus on the influx of positive energy and expelling any negative. I talk myself through  slow movements and stretches  using visualization techniques and continuous purifying breaths.  It's nice really. I've found it to be rejuvenating and strengthening. Some days are longer if I have time and the need, but I haven't missed yet and its been a little more than two weeks consistent.

I colored my hair on Friday.  I had been using cooler tone blacks because they last longer and seem more permanent and able to fight those hairs that like to show my age......I won't spell out the color.
But this time, I went back to my natural highlights, I have auburn highlights natural so I chose a warmer tone color that picked up on the reds and really made them shine.  Some people have told me it makes me look younger.  I think they might be full of bull poopie, but it makes me smile, so I'll take the compliment and tell myself its true.

Yesterday was the biggest change of all, I decided meditation and hair color were all fine and dandy, and they were certainly helpful in setting me on path for change, but what I really needed was something drastic. Something BIG.  So I chopped it. in twenty seconds and to the sound of tearing paper and metal shears, I lost 8-10".....no turning back. It will be good for summer. cooler, easy to manage, lighter, but drastic.  The best part is....I didn't cry.  That's right I chopped off my hair, and I didn't cry.  Its only hair and if I don't like the cut, well it will always grow back....especially my hair. I don't have thin wispy hair like much of my family...., my hair is thick and heavy, naturally curly, with great texture and depth ....or at least that what Judy my hairdresser says. I have no worries of ever going bald or even thinning anytime soon. I actually think I might love this new look, at least for now, until I need another change. 

As it stands, new color, new cut, new attitude = Spicy Young Hip Mom. Well as hip and spicy as I can be and still be me.

Next up a new pedicure, and a soon a vacation.  It's time.  I haven't had a vacation in a few years. :)

This years adventure will be Yellowstone driven in 4 hour increments with frequent stops per doctors orders.  We will make a week of it. Should be fun. Six weeks and counting.

Leaky Eyes....

And there I go again....Another tear trickles down my cheek.  Seems I am feeling a bit emotional this week about the pending changes in my role as mom. I am overwhelmed with feelings of pride and joy at what an amazing young man I have raised, and how lucky I am to have managed to complete the process two fold (The first was 4 years ago).  How remarkable is that?  Not once but twice, I struck gold and had the honor of releasing to the world a young man capable of making great contributions and making a difference.

As I watched Wyatt's final track and field event at yesterdays districts finals, I realized that this was a pinnacle moment in time. and my heart swelled. When I reflect on the years gone by, I see my little boy growing into a young man and I realize his journey is just beginning.  Those starting blocks and that  pistol are symbolic of the path he is stepping onto.  He is poised and focused and now he needs to find where his finish line will be. 

As his mom, I am both proud and challenged by his independence and need to express himself. I know my job is nearly done, and yet I have so much left I want to share. Nuances of communication and temperament that may help soften the road before him.

I watch and read and hear stories, clips, and shows reflecting the parent child dynamic and get all choked up. Some stories evoke a simple smile, others bring a tear, while a minute sampling spark a full on emotional outburst of tears and quiet sobs.  Mom has been a part of my identity for 22 years! It's woven into the  routine and fabric of what I wear and do each day, and in a few weeks, my world changes.   It's a marvelous achievement, but it's the end of a lifetime as well.  A new journey begins, a turning point in the road, and a path I've never known. I'm  tentative in new places and unfamiliar surroundings. It may take me while to adjust to the new routines and rules of the game.

My eyes are a little leaky these days and I'm working to patch the holes, but its nice to know that some of the leaks are happy.

30 YEARS.......Really?

Anyone who knows me, knows that my philosophy in life is about living today and living for tomorrow.  I rarely look to the past, knowing that what's done can never be undone. All we can do is move forward.  Life is all about progression.

This morning I woke to an e-mail in my personal e-mail folder notifying me that my 30 year high school reunion is coming soon. I instantly disregarded it, as per the prior noted philosophical views, but as the day goes on I find myself perplexed realizing that 30 years have nearly passed since I was that High school senior.  My Son is graduating this year.  My youngest son.......and I was in his shoes nearly 30 years ago. How can that be?

There are days that it feels like such a short time ago, and others when it feels like another life entirely.  I know myself...and I know that I won't attend any reunion efforts held for my graduating class, but it does shine a spotlight on the years gone by.

I have no curiosity to fulfill about what people look like, or who married whom, or who became what. I have no bonds to build, or fences to mend with ghosts of my past. Life moves forward in its ever fluid journey and I have no rear view mirror.  I won't allow myself to miss a moment of now because I'm too busy looking back to then. I have everything I need from the past, every lesson learned..stored neatly in my mind, ready to serve when necessary.

I hear too often people say things like "remember when..those days were the best...." .  But for me, the best days are now, and yet to come. If the best is already behind me, then what have I got to look forward to?

Flashback Thursday seems to be a big thing amongst people on social networking sites these days, and nostalgia is nice, but a cautionary tale should be had.....Be forewarned not to get stuck in past, it can be like tar to a dinosaur and trap you....sucking you down until there is nothing left but regret and lost hopes.

30 years is a landmark, but it's not life altering, merely  a reminder that life is always moving on going forward and sweeping us along with the current. Put a your life vest on and ride the wave.

Polar Opposites - A Meltdown

Positive and negative are two opposite ends of polarity. They are polar opposites in the truest sense of the term. And when the negative gets to close to the positive it sparks a heat. On the Earth the North and South poles are far apart and help to keep the planet balanced on its axis.  Sometimes it gets a little wibbly wobbly and we have earthquakes and other crazy acts of nature. Weird weather anomalies, species metamorphosis, migratory behaviors that astound the most educated scholars. But for the most part the act of keeping the Polarity separate works well and protects us all.

At the same time, a 9 volt battery has both a positive and negative charge side by side and the design saves lives every day in billions of smoke detectors across the globe.

Sometimes a little negative and positive interaction brought close is good.

The key is balance.

Like the battery, our emotional well being is dependent on striking a healthy balance between both negative and positive influences, experiences, and reactions, in our lives.  None of us is immune to negativity.  We experience it in various ways and various depths every day. It can be the driver who impatiently tailgates us, the coworker who complains that they are overworked, the irritable spouse, the demanding boss....it can come in any size, from  any direction. Negativity can come from a perfect stranger or your closest confidant, but....it will come. The key is HOW you deal with it.

Do you let the negative charge create a polar meltdown? Does all your positive evaporate and wash away? Or do you strike a balance? 

There are many sayings that essentially imply that you are what and who you surround yourself with. If you selectively chose to surround yourself with an abundance of negative influences, then you will lose site of the positive in your life. This isn't to say you can't influence others who are struggling or having a negative moment.  Empathy and compassion are gifts and powerful weapons against negativity.  They can help break through the negative and help someone find their way through an otherwise difficult time.  But holding steadfast to the good things in your life, remembering always that you are blessed and fortunate is valuable to your emotional, mental, and physical well being.

I have friends who lift me up, and friends who I lift up. There are times we alternately hold each other up when needed.  Everyone has a negative moment. That's life.  But allowing life's negative to become the norm, is a great way to get lost in its' thorns.  I refuse to let a frown or a snipe set the temperature of my day. In my head it is always, blue skies, 70's, sunny, and dry. A perpetual Late Spring full of new life and new beginnings. 

Now now that's the place to be.

Mothers Day Reviews.......

If you are a mother, at any stage of life, Mother's Day is a special day no matter where you are.  But it is unique too. Some Moms celebrate it like a genuine family holiday with a large get together. Some have a quiet and calm day at home of pampering and relaxation.

Some get gifts, some get flowers, some get breakfast in bed, some get a day free from domestic duties and all the meals are prepared for them throughout the day. Rituals vary according to the age and location of the children. Are they still living at home? Have they moved out but still live nearby? Have they moved far away? Do you have a partner who helps you celebrate in the absence of your children, who appreciates all you do as well?

Mother's Day is a day of reflection and a chance to recall the gift and honor of the charge we have accepted by becoming moms. It is the single most complicated role we will ever assume, and equally as rewarding if we allow it to be. You get out of it what you put into it, not monetarily or materialistically, but emotionally and spiritually.

Being a mom is worth every sleepless night, every worried moment, every tear, every skipped heartbeat, held breath, every cold, every flu, every temper tantrum,  & every teachers conference. Because every smile, every giggle, every hug, every time you hear or read the words "I love you" your heart skips another beat and melts and squeezes and your life is full again...ever replenishing...ever hopeful.....ever proud. You have succeeded in raising (or are on your way) independent but smart and motivated children who will stand for what they believe in while at the same time showing empathy and kindness to those less fortunate.

Every Mothers Day for me ends with a tear, buts its always a good tear, as the last gesture of the day is always the perfectly chosen card with the hand written message that speaks to my heart at just the right moment in just the right way.  I spend my entire day at peace, knowing I am loved and appreciated, having been told so, and I end my day with this final gesture and hug that says your are my mom, now and always, and I love you.

I am blessed, and I am lucky.  I have two amazing sons, each who shows me in his own way how much I mean, and I am loved.

Until next Mothers Day.......Adieu

Strength is Beauty

Following Mothers Day I thought it might be appropriate to acknowledge a few simple truths as I have come to know and believe them.  Beauty is not found on the surface of who we are. Rather it is at the very core and inner design of each of us.

Beauty is not about having a luxurious mane of hair. It's not about the flowing locks and curls that smell of lavender and citrus, reflecting the sunset when the light hits just right off the water in the bay. They are lovely, but it's not beauty.

Beauty is not perfect skin and features. Again the perfect nose and lips with just the right pout factor are lovely, set against smooth unblemished skin and long natural eyelashes with eyes that sparkle. But Beauty is so....................much more

The perfect size 6 figure, well manicured hands and feet, all lovely...all speak to high maintenance grooming and wealth and personal investment in ones appearance, but beauty............they are not.

Beauty is about the spirit. The soul. Some of the most beautiful and stunning people I know, both women and men, will never be seen as super models, most won't even be models. But they are the most beautiful people in the world. They inspire, motivate, and represent each and everyday, those traits which we all should strive for.

Beauty is about finding a smile on a day when only frowns feel right. Beauty is about tolerance in the face of pain, and forgiveness when you would rather seek vengeance or restitution. Beauty is the strength to do what's right even when the wrong choice is a thousand times easier. Beauty is knowing who you are and standing proud, never denying your true self for fear of rejection by others. Beauty comes in size 24, size 2, age 18 and age 80. Beauty is about loving with an open heart, without judgement, and with courage. Beauty is full of wisdom.

We are each born beautiful, and we each die beautiful, its the choices we make in between that will decide if we live beautiful lives or just to be lovely. 

I had my lovely years, now I live to be Beautiful.

How Long Would You Hold Out......Willpower

Its funny to think about, but oddly enough I've been placed in several situations lately that have made me realize the power and strength of willpower.

Most people think they have it in spades, until it's tested. Suddenly the fortitude to withstand and endure fades quickly and then *Poof* it's gone. Maybe it's about having a real cause to stand for, or the right mindset for the choice. but willpower takes a lot of commitment.

Silence would be a very difficult one for me.  I have a friend who practices Buddhism and goes on several retreats a year to center herself and renew her peace. The retreats require a commitment to silence. No talking for 30 days. No verbal communication. It sounds amazing in theory........for about 5 minutes. I would go crazy without the ability to chatter. I'm a chatterbox. When I was in grade school they nicknamed me motormouth morton because I wouldn't stop talking. It's true!  I enjoy the noise. I wake up to noise. I fall asleep to noise. I need noise. Silence takes me to a very dark and sad and scary place. I would have neither the inclination nor the willpower to withstand a silence retreat long enough to get my name tag and bed assignment. I talk to myself even when I'm alone, just so I'm not alone. 

My son proclaimed a food strike this week, in protest and to make a point of his dissatisfaction with a situation he was facing. It lasted 90 minutes! Food strikes are difficult too.  Especially for a hypoglycemic.  That hunger rage, is not a pleasant experience. Neither is the rumbling in the tummy, or the hunger headache, or the empty aching abdomen. People endure hunger strikes, for a myriad of reasons, but they take serious willpower and a determination and mind set with a very strong end goal. I did it once when I was 15 and at summer camp for a week. But ask me to do it today, at 46, and I would likely make it less than 24 hours.

There are a thousand different ways willpower can be applied, fiscally, emotionally, professionally, even medically, but they all take dedication and commitment. Purpose and the right mindset can go a long way to success.  For silence, I would last less than a turn of the minute hand on the clock, and a hunger strike just holds no reward worth enduring.

Lets have lunch and talk.