Yes, it has been awhile since I have unloaded my addled brain in a random rant about everything and nothing at all. Today I picked up the magical machine that will turn my sleepless nights into restful slumber that will miraculously give me more energy, clear my mind and help life to become much, much better. It seems that I have a case of Sleep Hypopnea with a minor dose of Sleep Apnea. This is probably why I am up several times per night. I was blaming it on my bladder and the overgrown puppy that I still haven't kicked out of the bed. He stretches his seventy plus pound, eight month old body between my husband and I effectively stealing the majority of the covers in the process. Sometimes his bladder wakes him up as well which means I get elected to take him downstairs to the backyard to do his business. The chiropractor advised me on Saturday that I should move him from the bed to the floor. I'm just not sure how to break that to him. He is so sweet and really, if he would just learn to sleep at the foot of the bed we could all sleep happily ever after. As is my usual way, I am digressing. Back to the Hypopnea. It seems this is becoming a more and more common condition world wide. It causes daytime sleepiness and obesity. Can I dare dream that I will lose my lifelong love of naps. Okay--maybe not lifelong. I'm sure I fought them when I was little. I started enjoying them in my teens. Could it mean that breathing at night would help me to become a little less chunky? What about my highly entertaining yet somewhat bizarre dreams? Are they a product of oxygen deprivation? Will I lose my ability to wake up each morning and say WTF? My dreams have become increasingly weirder in the past few months. I have blamed stress and an overly active imagination. The ghosts, body contortionist demons and abundance of fire on Saturday night did leave me mildly disturbed. Will my dreams become mundane when I am getting enough air at night? Time will tell.
If I would have read the article about the woman in Scotland with the Haunted Dolls before Saturday I would blame the article for my nightmares. I realize that my friends and family think that I have strange beliefs and ideas at times. I don't contradict them, strange is in the eye of the beholder. Yes, I can be weird. I will NEVER however spend thousands of dollars on Haunted Dolls. This woman trolls the Internet looking for dolls with spirits in them. It is believed that dolls came about as vessels to hold spirits. This woman communicates with the spirits in her dolls as do her children. They entertain the spirits and even have a babysitter for them if they are going to be away. I'm sorry--I would never babysit someones freaky dolls to make sure they didn't wreak havoc on their apartment while they were away. If the dolls are going to wreak havoc, I don'[t want to be anywhere near them when they do it. Dolls and clowns are two of the freakiest things I can think of. I know that I go ghost hunting but I would never invite a ghost to come live with my and become part of my family. I guess I should never say never. If I were to meet the right ghost, maybe we would settle down together~it is hard to say. Why would any ghost want to limit themselves to the body of a doll when they could be flying around free from constraints. Think of the places you could go. I wouldn't want to be in a stuffy apartment with a strange woman deciding what we should watch on the telly.
To those of you who text me. I am sorry if the letter "K" offends you. I usually try to text out complete words. I don't use things like LOL or other short cuts. I feel I am too old to use "u" instead of you. I will however type "K" instead of okay if I am busy or just being lazy. Last week one of Kyle's friends asked me if I was mad at him. He texted to say that he dropped in for a few minutes while we were gone. He let the dogs out and got a drink. He is like family so this was fine. I was in the car, as a passenger, and texted "K" because I get carsick texting in the car and wanted him to know that it was fine that he was there. The dogs were probably thrilled to see him. He is under the impression that "K", especially a big "K" means that you are mad or irritated at someone. I seldom get mad. When I am irritated, the majority of the time it is a personal issue. You may be irritating me but it is because I have a headache, I am tired or for whatever reason that probably has little to do with you and a lot to do with my mood. If I have texted "K" to any of you and you have thought I was mad--sorry. I will try to type okay from now on. If I do get lazy and type "k", I will use a small "k" so I'm not shouting.
I continue to be amazed at the world and the changes that have come about not only in my life time, but in the past few years. Technology is going way too fast for my aging brain. I never imagined signing documents online, sending my kids photos of something in the store to see if they would want it or asking my phone what "Hypopnea" means. My car talks to me, a microchip informed a doctor that I snored over 600 times one night, stopped breathing 4 times, had shallow breathing at least 23 times per hour and took in from 75%-93% oxygen through the night. Last week in the store the original Don McLean version of "American Pie" was playing. I told the clerk that I had the "45" when I was young and that you had to turn it over in the middle of the song since the song was so long. He smiled at me. When we left the store my friend reminded me that he probably had no idea what a "45" was. I have become my grandma. I speak of ancient things that my children and grandchildren will have no concept of. I used to sit up late listening to 62 KGW on the AM station waiting to hear my newest favorite song. If I was lucky I could hit record in time to not only catch the beginning of the song, but to miss the DJ talking over it. After capturing the music on my little device I would rewind and fast forward with a pen in hand trying to make out all of the lyrics. My kids have taught me that when I hear a new song I just have to hit an app on my phone that will be able to tell me who it is and what it is. Of course I can always Google the lyrics. Yes--I have digressed and gone all random on you. It is what I do. I also used to walk to school two miles in the snow up hill both ways!!
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Friday, February 6, 2015
Still Gullible
After sending out dire warnings to friends and family members about always being aware of current scams and to be careful on the Internet, I got sucked in for a few minutes this morning. I would rather just be embarrassed in private and not confess to the world about my gullibility, but that doesn't help anyone else who may fall victim. I think you all know how I feel about scam artists. They are the scum of the earth who swindle innocent people out of whatever they can get. They take advantage of people in bad situations who may not be thinking clearly. My situation is not terrible, but I have been worried. This morning I was offered a solution that was too good to be true. For an hour I thought of the possibilities and even found myself getting excited. Then reality hit with the second e-mail. It wasn't true--that is why it was so perfect.
From my last post you all know what we are going through with our house. My husband has been extremely stressed out lately wondering where we will end up. He worries about having enough room in a rental providing that we can find one that will allow our dogs. I have wanted to find a solution to relieve that stress. I have had friends that I know who have house sat for long periods of time due to differing circumstances; friends who have leased to own and other non-traditional situations. I am looking at all options right now. I happened upon an ad for a large home in Oregon City whose owner is doing mission work for the next five years. They claimed to need someone trustworthy to rent the house for a low rate and keep an eye on their 3 acres for them. I started thinking about how much money we could save in five years and how great it would be to be in a large house on acreage. The e-mail had a name, a phone number, the address of the house and other things that made it appear legit even though I was questioning it. I put in the application which did NOT ask for my bank information or social security number. I did give information that I wish I hadn't such as my employer and cell phone number. These things could be found by someone easily enough. Still, the thought of me handing them willingly to a lying piece of crap makes me nauseous. Sorry, I do have strong feelings about situations like this.
I received an excited reply from the supposed homeowner telling me that we sounded like the perfect renters and that all we needed to do was to send a thousand dollar deposit to them through Western Union. They advised me not to talk to the realtor whose name is on the sign out front because they didn't want them to know that they decided to handle the property on their own. The daydream bubble burst and I went from hopeful to pissed off and defeated in a matter of seconds. I wrote back telling them that I had checked into things and found that they were not who they purported to be and that I found them disgusting. I told them that Karma is real and that someday they would pay for taking advantage of people. I think I also put something in there about them choosing the wrong path in life and never being able to find happiness until they changed their ways. Yes--stupid, sappy and a little pissy--not well thought out. I blocked them, informed the rental site and now sit here confessing my complete clueless, delusional stupidity to all of you. I can see how those really lost could reach out for something so tempting. What we want to be real seldom is. I don't mean that in a pessimistic way it is just that reality is so different depending on the perspective. I believe I have stopped making sense. I need to take a deep breath. There is a plan for us. We will land on our feet and find the right place to live. All will be fine as long as I keep my head on straight and not fall victim to desperation. It is a little depressing to find that no matter how careful I try to be, I'm still gullible.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Surviving Bad Decisions.......
I have not written in a few months because my husband really doesn't want to talk about what is going on in our house. He and I are completely opposite in some respects. He doesn't talk much, I talk too much. He keeps things in, I let things out. He doesn't like to share information, I share everything. Sometimes I know that I drive him crazy. He doesn't fully understand the concept of my need to throw things out into the universe. I don't like keeping things in~I need to write them down for my own sanity. If it helps others, then all the better. If others decide to judge, then it is their problem not mine. I freely admit to bad decisions. In this particular case the bad decision was compounded when I trusted the wrong people to try to help me to correct it. Sometimes you have to go outside of your comfort zone to try to make things better.
Several years ago we took out a second mortgage. We were struggling and we came up with a plan with the credit union. It would have been great if my husband hadn't gotten hurt a year later. His back injury put him off of work for over six months. During that time we had to rob Peter to pay Paul to make sure that both mortgages were being paid. It was then that I realized that our house, though I loved it, was actually keeping us from really living. We couldn't afford to do anything because all of the money we had went into the mortgages. We couldn't afford to keep the house, but couldn't afford to leave the house. A catch-22 that has frustrated me to no end. I tried on a couple of different occasions to work with the credit union to improve the situation. They would come up with this plan or that. After a few different refinances, somehow the loan turned into a monster and grew larger than the first mortgage. We tried to put the two mortgages together but the credit union didn't think that was in our best interest. Of course then the market crashed which made everything worse. I have felt trapped here in this situation for several years--juggling bills, having weeks where we had to wait a few days to buy milk and then other weeks where all is great. I know that such is life, but I have come to a point where we need to let the house go and move on. I want to be able to take a road trip without it crippling us for months. I want to be able to enjoy life without waiting for the house of cards to crash.
In the fall, the credit union forced us to do another refinance, they claimed we had a balloon payment that was due. That was news to me, but then again, I have given them way too much trust in the past years at helping us to keep on track. I knew that it was time to get free of this burden. We have a friend who specializes in short sales. It isn't ideal, but it is a way to get out from under the house and start fresh. My husband is not happy with the fact that we are going this route. He feels it shows a failure in us and that it is an embarrassment. I know that thousands of people were in our boat with the crash. Many had to go into foreclosure. We have held on for a long time. I'm tired and want to let go of the sinking ship. Doing a short sale is not my idea of fun, but it gives me hope. Well-most of the time it gives me hope. There are nights though when I'm awake for hours thinking of all that can go wrong. In order to do a short sale you have to stop paying the mortgage. Our credit went from stellar two months ago to the toilet. Not paying your mortgage is the biggest red flag there is on credit reports and nothing tanks you faster. Now that we have terrible credit I am more worried than ever about being able to find a rental house that will fit our needs while we work hard for two years to build the credit back up. We have extra bills to pay right now which have me worried as well. Our son had surgery outside of our coverage right before Christmas and will have another in the spring. I have no clue what our bills for these surgeries will be and how we are going to pay for them. It may be a very hard couple of years. I like my job, but will 30 hours per week at a low wage be enough? Do I need to look for something more to help with my part of fixing this? In the fall we will have two in college while another is getting married in the coming months--I am trying not to hyperventilate. To add to the bad credit and big bills--there are my two babies who I adore. I will not give up our rescued pit bulls. I know that they will make renting even more of a challenge. I realize that I am supposed to breathe deep and trust that all of this will work out. I just over think things to death and there is always fear in the unknown. In a perfect world we would be able to find a house that we love that we could lease with the option to buy. We would find a perfect landlord who loves dogs and also understands that it isn't the breed that is the problem. I need to be going through stuff and downsizing. I haven't had the energy to do it. I am overwhelmed at the concept. I give myself pep talks several times a day and try to trust in my decision. It is hard to trust a decision when your partner in life is skeptical and puts the pressure on you for it all to work out. I keep promising him that it will. I need to stand by that promise. I know that for my own sanity I need a change. I hope that a few years from now I am able to look at this as a major growth period in my life where I learned all types of lessons. Growing hurts though and some lessons are hard.
We will survive. I have to let it go, stop over thinking it all and just let whatever is meant to be happen. Easier said than done. It is funny how I am able to give awesome advice to others, but have to force myself to listen to that inner voice that says "just chill".
Several years ago we took out a second mortgage. We were struggling and we came up with a plan with the credit union. It would have been great if my husband hadn't gotten hurt a year later. His back injury put him off of work for over six months. During that time we had to rob Peter to pay Paul to make sure that both mortgages were being paid. It was then that I realized that our house, though I loved it, was actually keeping us from really living. We couldn't afford to do anything because all of the money we had went into the mortgages. We couldn't afford to keep the house, but couldn't afford to leave the house. A catch-22 that has frustrated me to no end. I tried on a couple of different occasions to work with the credit union to improve the situation. They would come up with this plan or that. After a few different refinances, somehow the loan turned into a monster and grew larger than the first mortgage. We tried to put the two mortgages together but the credit union didn't think that was in our best interest. Of course then the market crashed which made everything worse. I have felt trapped here in this situation for several years--juggling bills, having weeks where we had to wait a few days to buy milk and then other weeks where all is great. I know that such is life, but I have come to a point where we need to let the house go and move on. I want to be able to take a road trip without it crippling us for months. I want to be able to enjoy life without waiting for the house of cards to crash.
In the fall, the credit union forced us to do another refinance, they claimed we had a balloon payment that was due. That was news to me, but then again, I have given them way too much trust in the past years at helping us to keep on track. I knew that it was time to get free of this burden. We have a friend who specializes in short sales. It isn't ideal, but it is a way to get out from under the house and start fresh. My husband is not happy with the fact that we are going this route. He feels it shows a failure in us and that it is an embarrassment. I know that thousands of people were in our boat with the crash. Many had to go into foreclosure. We have held on for a long time. I'm tired and want to let go of the sinking ship. Doing a short sale is not my idea of fun, but it gives me hope. Well-most of the time it gives me hope. There are nights though when I'm awake for hours thinking of all that can go wrong. In order to do a short sale you have to stop paying the mortgage. Our credit went from stellar two months ago to the toilet. Not paying your mortgage is the biggest red flag there is on credit reports and nothing tanks you faster. Now that we have terrible credit I am more worried than ever about being able to find a rental house that will fit our needs while we work hard for two years to build the credit back up. We have extra bills to pay right now which have me worried as well. Our son had surgery outside of our coverage right before Christmas and will have another in the spring. I have no clue what our bills for these surgeries will be and how we are going to pay for them. It may be a very hard couple of years. I like my job, but will 30 hours per week at a low wage be enough? Do I need to look for something more to help with my part of fixing this? In the fall we will have two in college while another is getting married in the coming months--I am trying not to hyperventilate. To add to the bad credit and big bills--there are my two babies who I adore. I will not give up our rescued pit bulls. I know that they will make renting even more of a challenge. I realize that I am supposed to breathe deep and trust that all of this will work out. I just over think things to death and there is always fear in the unknown. In a perfect world we would be able to find a house that we love that we could lease with the option to buy. We would find a perfect landlord who loves dogs and also understands that it isn't the breed that is the problem. I need to be going through stuff and downsizing. I haven't had the energy to do it. I am overwhelmed at the concept. I give myself pep talks several times a day and try to trust in my decision. It is hard to trust a decision when your partner in life is skeptical and puts the pressure on you for it all to work out. I keep promising him that it will. I need to stand by that promise. I know that for my own sanity I need a change. I hope that a few years from now I am able to look at this as a major growth period in my life where I learned all types of lessons. Growing hurts though and some lessons are hard.
We will survive. I have to let it go, stop over thinking it all and just let whatever is meant to be happen. Easier said than done. It is funny how I am able to give awesome advice to others, but have to force myself to listen to that inner voice that says "just chill".
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Dear Jordy.........
Dear Jordy,
Twenty three months ago you changed our lives. Most people don't realize that one action can change everything. In Chaos Theory it is called the Butterfly Effect. In your case it was a larger action, but an action all the same. In January of 2013 there was a soccer tournament in Beaverton. It should have been a very routine first tournament of the season. My son Kyle was set to start for the A team under a new coach. He was excited and I was nervous. I don't usually get nervous but that day I was. I stayed back in the truck to pray for both teams because I felt strongly that something was going to happen. You are a very aggressive player. This can be good at times, but frustration and aggression can be a dangerous combination. You were frustrated in the first half and I told those around me that if the ref didn't start controlling the game you were going to hurt someone. In the second half Kyle was playing very well. So well that the coach did not pull him as he planned. He was going to give him a rest but decided that a few more minutes wouldn't hurt since he was having such a great game. I only looked away for a minute. I greeted a friend. When I turned back a player was down on the field. I didn't see the hit when it happened. I saw it later on video. A late hit, a hard hit with no whistle from the ref. It took me a second to realize that it was my son down. Usually when he is hurt he doesn't like to have attention on him. He will get back up then signal the coach that he needs a sub. He didn't get up that day. He couldn't get up. He heard four distinct pops as he went down. He had to pretty much be carried to the truck. This is a nightmare for a soccer player. Especially one that worked hard year round because he wanted to be the best he could be. He didn't expect a big scholarship, but he had hoped for a small one to a small school so that he could continue playing the game he loves. Those dreams didn't die that day. On that day there was still hope.
The next time we played your team you went out of your way to make fun of him. You and your friends pretended to kick one another and held your knees saying "oh my ACL, my ACL". This is what has made me angry. The hit was part of soccer. It happens. Refs let games go, players get hurt--it happens every day. The cruelty and disrespect were what stayed with me. The thought that you could leave another player with deep scars that he will carry forever and not even apologize or wish him well in his recovery. Did you ever give any thought to your actions?
Luckily Kyle is an amazing person with a big heart and a genuine love for the game. He couldn't get back on the field but he did attend practices and games with his teams, cheered them on and gave support. He first hoped to be back on the field his Junior year. He was recovering well when a wrong move tore his graft. He was bummed and blamed himself. The next surgery was done to get him back for his senior year. It had to be done in two stages which meant two surgeries and twice as much pain. He did everything right, worked hard and believed there was still a chance to play. He did get to play three games. He could only play partial games because they wanted him to come back slowly. He looked good, he felt good--in the fourth game it tore again. He knew his senior year was not lost as well as any hope for a small scholarship. We took him to a new surgeon to find out why the grafts weren't taking. He was hit harder in the initial injury than anyone had guessed. The MCL was damaged which meant that any ACL that was attached would fail because it wasn't getting the support it needed. He went through three surgeries and lost two hamstrings before this diagnosis was made. Yesterday he went in for the fourth time. They could not do it all in one surgery which means a fifth surgery will happen in 2015. You have probably forgotten all about that fast kid that you took out in 2013, but he hasn't forgotten you. He has pretty much forgiven you because he has a big heart. He just wishes that you would have told him you were sorry. Now his ordeal will continue. It will be almost two and half years from the injury when he goes in for his final surgery. It will take another two years to heal. The next surgery is more invasive than any of the prior surgeries and much more painful.
He has changed direction. He will study physical therapy and sports medicine. He will help players with sports injuries. Maybe he will be able to get many of them back on the field where he wants to be. He will coach someday as well and will be an excellent coach. He will not only teach the game but teach sportsmanship and compassion also. Soccer isn't just about winning and losing. It is a game that is supposed to teach you life skills. You may not have had the right coach for those qualities. For that I am sorry. Kyle has had awesome coaches who were great role models.
Today I am going to let go completely of anything that I have held onto. Any animosity that I have felt towards you, the ref, your coach and the powers that be that came together that day. His coach needs to let go of his guilt for not pulling him out sooner. I need to let go of my guilt for not knowing that my sense of dread was aimed directly at my son. What could we have done differently? The outcome is what it is. We have learned and we have grown. I pray that you will learn and grow as well. I hope that as you graduate this year and go out into the world that you will learn other ways to vent your anger and frustrations. I pray that you will learn to be caring and compassionate. I want good things for you in the future just as I want good things for everyone. Your actions broke my heart but I underestimated my son's strength and determination. He is a fighter and will make it through all of this a stronger person with his own scars to show future patients~he's been there, he can relate. He lost a dream, but realized that there are other dreams. Life isn't always fair, but there are always new possibilities.
Twenty three months ago you changed our lives. Most people don't realize that one action can change everything. In Chaos Theory it is called the Butterfly Effect. In your case it was a larger action, but an action all the same. In January of 2013 there was a soccer tournament in Beaverton. It should have been a very routine first tournament of the season. My son Kyle was set to start for the A team under a new coach. He was excited and I was nervous. I don't usually get nervous but that day I was. I stayed back in the truck to pray for both teams because I felt strongly that something was going to happen. You are a very aggressive player. This can be good at times, but frustration and aggression can be a dangerous combination. You were frustrated in the first half and I told those around me that if the ref didn't start controlling the game you were going to hurt someone. In the second half Kyle was playing very well. So well that the coach did not pull him as he planned. He was going to give him a rest but decided that a few more minutes wouldn't hurt since he was having such a great game. I only looked away for a minute. I greeted a friend. When I turned back a player was down on the field. I didn't see the hit when it happened. I saw it later on video. A late hit, a hard hit with no whistle from the ref. It took me a second to realize that it was my son down. Usually when he is hurt he doesn't like to have attention on him. He will get back up then signal the coach that he needs a sub. He didn't get up that day. He couldn't get up. He heard four distinct pops as he went down. He had to pretty much be carried to the truck. This is a nightmare for a soccer player. Especially one that worked hard year round because he wanted to be the best he could be. He didn't expect a big scholarship, but he had hoped for a small one to a small school so that he could continue playing the game he loves. Those dreams didn't die that day. On that day there was still hope.
The next time we played your team you went out of your way to make fun of him. You and your friends pretended to kick one another and held your knees saying "oh my ACL, my ACL". This is what has made me angry. The hit was part of soccer. It happens. Refs let games go, players get hurt--it happens every day. The cruelty and disrespect were what stayed with me. The thought that you could leave another player with deep scars that he will carry forever and not even apologize or wish him well in his recovery. Did you ever give any thought to your actions?
Luckily Kyle is an amazing person with a big heart and a genuine love for the game. He couldn't get back on the field but he did attend practices and games with his teams, cheered them on and gave support. He first hoped to be back on the field his Junior year. He was recovering well when a wrong move tore his graft. He was bummed and blamed himself. The next surgery was done to get him back for his senior year. It had to be done in two stages which meant two surgeries and twice as much pain. He did everything right, worked hard and believed there was still a chance to play. He did get to play three games. He could only play partial games because they wanted him to come back slowly. He looked good, he felt good--in the fourth game it tore again. He knew his senior year was not lost as well as any hope for a small scholarship. We took him to a new surgeon to find out why the grafts weren't taking. He was hit harder in the initial injury than anyone had guessed. The MCL was damaged which meant that any ACL that was attached would fail because it wasn't getting the support it needed. He went through three surgeries and lost two hamstrings before this diagnosis was made. Yesterday he went in for the fourth time. They could not do it all in one surgery which means a fifth surgery will happen in 2015. You have probably forgotten all about that fast kid that you took out in 2013, but he hasn't forgotten you. He has pretty much forgiven you because he has a big heart. He just wishes that you would have told him you were sorry. Now his ordeal will continue. It will be almost two and half years from the injury when he goes in for his final surgery. It will take another two years to heal. The next surgery is more invasive than any of the prior surgeries and much more painful.
He has changed direction. He will study physical therapy and sports medicine. He will help players with sports injuries. Maybe he will be able to get many of them back on the field where he wants to be. He will coach someday as well and will be an excellent coach. He will not only teach the game but teach sportsmanship and compassion also. Soccer isn't just about winning and losing. It is a game that is supposed to teach you life skills. You may not have had the right coach for those qualities. For that I am sorry. Kyle has had awesome coaches who were great role models.
Today I am going to let go completely of anything that I have held onto. Any animosity that I have felt towards you, the ref, your coach and the powers that be that came together that day. His coach needs to let go of his guilt for not pulling him out sooner. I need to let go of my guilt for not knowing that my sense of dread was aimed directly at my son. What could we have done differently? The outcome is what it is. We have learned and we have grown. I pray that you will learn and grow as well. I hope that as you graduate this year and go out into the world that you will learn other ways to vent your anger and frustrations. I pray that you will learn to be caring and compassionate. I want good things for you in the future just as I want good things for everyone. Your actions broke my heart but I underestimated my son's strength and determination. He is a fighter and will make it through all of this a stronger person with his own scars to show future patients~he's been there, he can relate. He lost a dream, but realized that there are other dreams. Life isn't always fair, but there are always new possibilities.
Friday, December 5, 2014
Hooked on a Feeling
I believe that I have mentioned in a post or two before that I have Monkey Brain. That is what my mediation teacher told me. My brain is busy constantly which can be exhausting. That is why I need to meditate more, but that's another story. My monkey brain keeps me awake some nights. It is hard to sleep when you are juggling so many different thoughts. Last night I was plagued by a song that wouldn't stop playing in my head. Does that happen to everyone. A song will just start playing and won't shut the hell up.
Sometimes my memory fails me. I can remember phone numbers of at least three of my childhood friends and maybe even my grandparents. I can remember the names of grade school teachers, kids who only lived in the area shortly, the lyrics of thousands of songs, but I can't remember the cell phone numbers of my own children. I lose words sometimes. I will be talking and it will be a normal every day word that stops me in my tracks. Something like coincidence or compare. I have to stop in the middle of a sentence and actually think.
Somewhere in my brain there is a store room filled with song lyrics. Something will start playing on the radio and I can sing along. Ask me to sing it without the music and I may only know a word or two. Sometimes, like last night a song that I haven't heard for years will high jack my brain for no apparent reason. I was able to do at least one verse of that song. You must remember it--Blue Suede--1974. Ooga Chaka, Ooga Chaka, Ooga-Ooga-Ooga Chaka. I I I I I'm Hooked on a Feeling (bomp bod da ba) High on Believing (bomp bod da ba) that I'm in love with you........ I picture myself in Pam and Shelly Kerber's basement singing along at the top of my voice. Nine years old and independent as Hell. I really thought I could sing too. I didn't know what "tone deaf" meant! As soon as I typed in "Pam and Shelly Kerber's basement" more songs came into my head--The Locomotion, One Tin Soldier and another song sitting on the periphery of my memory teasing me with the words motion and ocean. Of course I am Googling like mad--hoping to find it before it drives me crazy. "Girl I'd like to know where you got the motion, girl I'd like to know where you got the motion--rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby, rock the boat, don't tip the boat over, rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby". Okay--Google found it. My nine year old self did not know the word notion. It is "So I'd like to know where you got the notion". No motion, no girl, just rocking the boat like a ship on the ocean. I don't even remember a band called the Hues Corporation. It seems this is another 1974 song under that lovely genre of disco.
My husband and I have a different take on music because he is interested in the music portion which is important, but I am all about the lyrics. There are a few songs that I admit are very catchy and get in my head even though the lyrics are not at all what I would want them to be. The one that cracks my daughter up is Buck Cherry's "Crazy Bitch". If you don't know it, Google the lyrics. Just remember that it is very graphic and if you dislike cursing it isn't a good idea for you to go there. It is very inappropriate, but it has a great beat and gets stuck in my head. It sometimes lodges itself in my head at the most inopportune times. It isn't a song you want anyone to hear you singing.
For whatever reason there are songs out there that repel me. I hear them and want to immediately change the station. I cannot stand "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga. Why? No clue--maybe it got stuck in there one night and my subconscious mind decided that it had enough and vetoed it for life. Anyone with children of a certain age may cringe if they hear the Barney Song. This year there is a Shutterfly commercial that has driven me insane. It is the one where they sing "I'm gonna mail myself to you.". I may have found it a little cute the first time that I heard it. By the fifth time I was over it. Now that it has played over and over since before Thanksgiving I want to shoot the TV whenever it comes on. Antone is the master of the remote, so he of course either turns it up or starts singing along to it. Would it be assault if I threw my shoes at him? Earlier this week the damn song wouldn't let me sleep. I decided to re-write it. I came up with two viable options. Instead of "Mail Myself to You" I took the liberty of changing it to "Sell Myself to You".
Version 1:
I'm gonna paint my face with makeup
I'm gonna show my stamp tramp tattoo
I'm gonna put on a short skirt and high heeled shoes
Then I'm gonna sell myself to you
Version 2:
I'm gonna shoot some crystal meth
smoke a joint and and drink a brew
I'm gonna do a line of cocaine
Then I'm gonna sell myself to you
Of course I have no idea what people do with Crystal Meth so not sure if they shoot it but for the sake of the song I decided it was valid. I could Google that, but what if my kids look at my Internet history and see me Googling Crystal Meth use. They may think that I'm getting ready to start a new fad diet. Doubtful, but you never know. As a curious writer I google a lot of weird stuff. Thank God for Google. If it wasn't for Google I may be singing the word douche in Blinded by the Light or about motion instead of notion in rock the boat. Google is also the great tool that taught me to correctly spell Ooga Chaka from Hooked on a Feeling which started this whole tirade. I may have typed Ugga Chugga!
Sometimes my memory fails me. I can remember phone numbers of at least three of my childhood friends and maybe even my grandparents. I can remember the names of grade school teachers, kids who only lived in the area shortly, the lyrics of thousands of songs, but I can't remember the cell phone numbers of my own children. I lose words sometimes. I will be talking and it will be a normal every day word that stops me in my tracks. Something like coincidence or compare. I have to stop in the middle of a sentence and actually think.
Somewhere in my brain there is a store room filled with song lyrics. Something will start playing on the radio and I can sing along. Ask me to sing it without the music and I may only know a word or two. Sometimes, like last night a song that I haven't heard for years will high jack my brain for no apparent reason. I was able to do at least one verse of that song. You must remember it--Blue Suede--1974. Ooga Chaka, Ooga Chaka, Ooga-Ooga-Ooga Chaka. I I I I I'm Hooked on a Feeling (bomp bod da ba) High on Believing (bomp bod da ba) that I'm in love with you........ I picture myself in Pam and Shelly Kerber's basement singing along at the top of my voice. Nine years old and independent as Hell. I really thought I could sing too. I didn't know what "tone deaf" meant! As soon as I typed in "Pam and Shelly Kerber's basement" more songs came into my head--The Locomotion, One Tin Soldier and another song sitting on the periphery of my memory teasing me with the words motion and ocean. Of course I am Googling like mad--hoping to find it before it drives me crazy. "Girl I'd like to know where you got the motion, girl I'd like to know where you got the motion--rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby, rock the boat, don't tip the boat over, rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby". Okay--Google found it. My nine year old self did not know the word notion. It is "So I'd like to know where you got the notion". No motion, no girl, just rocking the boat like a ship on the ocean. I don't even remember a band called the Hues Corporation. It seems this is another 1974 song under that lovely genre of disco.
My husband and I have a different take on music because he is interested in the music portion which is important, but I am all about the lyrics. There are a few songs that I admit are very catchy and get in my head even though the lyrics are not at all what I would want them to be. The one that cracks my daughter up is Buck Cherry's "Crazy Bitch". If you don't know it, Google the lyrics. Just remember that it is very graphic and if you dislike cursing it isn't a good idea for you to go there. It is very inappropriate, but it has a great beat and gets stuck in my head. It sometimes lodges itself in my head at the most inopportune times. It isn't a song you want anyone to hear you singing.
For whatever reason there are songs out there that repel me. I hear them and want to immediately change the station. I cannot stand "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga. Why? No clue--maybe it got stuck in there one night and my subconscious mind decided that it had enough and vetoed it for life. Anyone with children of a certain age may cringe if they hear the Barney Song. This year there is a Shutterfly commercial that has driven me insane. It is the one where they sing "I'm gonna mail myself to you.". I may have found it a little cute the first time that I heard it. By the fifth time I was over it. Now that it has played over and over since before Thanksgiving I want to shoot the TV whenever it comes on. Antone is the master of the remote, so he of course either turns it up or starts singing along to it. Would it be assault if I threw my shoes at him? Earlier this week the damn song wouldn't let me sleep. I decided to re-write it. I came up with two viable options. Instead of "Mail Myself to You" I took the liberty of changing it to "Sell Myself to You".
Version 1:
I'm gonna paint my face with makeup
I'm gonna show my stamp tramp tattoo
I'm gonna put on a short skirt and high heeled shoes
Then I'm gonna sell myself to you
Version 2:
I'm gonna shoot some crystal meth
smoke a joint and and drink a brew
I'm gonna do a line of cocaine
Then I'm gonna sell myself to you
Of course I have no idea what people do with Crystal Meth so not sure if they shoot it but for the sake of the song I decided it was valid. I could Google that, but what if my kids look at my Internet history and see me Googling Crystal Meth use. They may think that I'm getting ready to start a new fad diet. Doubtful, but you never know. As a curious writer I google a lot of weird stuff. Thank God for Google. If it wasn't for Google I may be singing the word douche in Blinded by the Light or about motion instead of notion in rock the boat. Google is also the great tool that taught me to correctly spell Ooga Chaka from Hooked on a Feeling which started this whole tirade. I may have typed Ugga Chugga!
Protesting Violence with Violence
As I sit on the sidelines and watch the visions of angry rioters looting and burning businesses I have to ask myself what it' all about. I mistakenly thought that we had come much further and had learned lessons from the race riots in the 60's or the Rodney King beating in the early 90's. The differing reports on what happened in Ferguson, Missouri on August 9th are confusing--it is hard to say what actually happened and who to believe. It is amazing to me how the press sways public opinion depending on how they want to spin the story. They want to sell papers, so sensationalizing any story is a win-win situation for them. They may incite violence with their words, but violence breeds more stories for them to cover. The killing of Michael Brown was the result of several decisions made by both Brown and Wilson. Somehow their actions at that particular moment in time brought a less than ideal outcome out of what seems to be a very bad situation. Was extreme force warranted? I don't know, I wasn't there. I don't put my life on the line every day. I can't say what was going on in the minds of either of them. I know that officers are trained to shoot to kill. There are times when it is necessary. I'm not sure that this is one of those times. I often wonder why suspects can't be shot in the leg or better yet shot with pepper spray. I can honestly say that I don't believe that race had anything to do with it. I also believe the ensuing riots have anything to do with Michael Brown anymore, at least not the majority of them. I have seen coverage of peaceful protests who actually are thinking of the family and wanting justice. But most have other agendas in mind.
In trying to give our children a better life have we raised a generation of young adults who believe they are entitled to certain things? What happened to respect for others? I know there are some bad officers out there, but the majority of them are awesome people who put their lives on the line daily to keep us safe. Officers are killed daily. There are those who target police officers including hate groups who like to feed the fire when an incident like Ferguson happens.
Prejudice goes many ways. When we hear it we think of whites being prejudiced against blacks. There are just as many blacks who are prejudiced against whites. We have people who are prejudiced against the police, against immigrants, against women. It is a cycle of mistrust and hate that needs to be broken. There are peaceful ways to go about creating change. Using violence to protest against violence is counter productive. I believe many of the protesters are anarchists who just want to add fuel to the fire and cause major disturbances. The looting of stores and burning of businesses in their own community is ludicrous.
I realize that people are disillusioned with the justice system; that politicians have become puppets to big corporations and that America has lost its identity. Change is needed, but the rioting across the country right now isn't solving anything. It is taking the focus away from the major issues and leaving us to clean up messes made by angry masses caught up in the mob mentality.
I'm not political enough. I try to just live and let live. I am disturbed by what I am seeing though. Change starts from within. We need to think before we speak, try to see things from all angles and remember that the media is not always accurate. We may never know the facts.
In trying to give our children a better life have we raised a generation of young adults who believe they are entitled to certain things? What happened to respect for others? I know there are some bad officers out there, but the majority of them are awesome people who put their lives on the line daily to keep us safe. Officers are killed daily. There are those who target police officers including hate groups who like to feed the fire when an incident like Ferguson happens.
Prejudice goes many ways. When we hear it we think of whites being prejudiced against blacks. There are just as many blacks who are prejudiced against whites. We have people who are prejudiced against the police, against immigrants, against women. It is a cycle of mistrust and hate that needs to be broken. There are peaceful ways to go about creating change. Using violence to protest against violence is counter productive. I believe many of the protesters are anarchists who just want to add fuel to the fire and cause major disturbances. The looting of stores and burning of businesses in their own community is ludicrous.
I realize that people are disillusioned with the justice system; that politicians have become puppets to big corporations and that America has lost its identity. Change is needed, but the rioting across the country right now isn't solving anything. It is taking the focus away from the major issues and leaving us to clean up messes made by angry masses caught up in the mob mentality.
I'm not political enough. I try to just live and let live. I am disturbed by what I am seeing though. Change starts from within. We need to think before we speak, try to see things from all angles and remember that the media is not always accurate. We may never know the facts.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Tis The Season
I have sat in front of the computer several times over the past months. Blog ideas come and go, I start writing then lose my train of thought. I know it is the grieving process, I know that the holidays are making it worse~I just don't always have a lot of patience with myself. It is frustrating knowing what you need to do and not being able to muster the energy to actually do it. I feel like I'm waiting for something, God knows what. Life is happening around me here and now.
Here and now it seems the holidays are upon us. I struggle with them each year and seeing Christmas displays earlier and earlier doesn't help. I'm not sure what it is about Christmas that fills me with dread. I loved it as a child. I loved it when my children were little. I'm not sure when I stopped decorating. I know that I used to. Sometimes I would bake even. For those of you who know my aversion to the kitchen and all things related to cooking picturing me baking may be a stretch. It's true though. I would make sugar cookies to decorate and even attempted "No Fail Fudge". Yes--I failed but the messy goop tasted really good.
I believe it was commercialism and high expectations that made me lose my way. As the bills got higher and the Christmas list grew longer I stressed on how I was supposed to afford the holiday. There were homeless people and those struggling to even eat on a normal day and here I was worried because I couldn't afford big presents and prime rib. I lost the true meaning and I'm know I'm not alone in that. I think a lot of people have lost the meaning. Those who start filling the store shelves in August, the stores who now open up on Thanksgiving to get a jump start on sales, the lists of popular items that are going to be hard to find--they all feed the desperation of making the holidays some picture post card that should look the same for each and every red blooded American. Let's buy more high tech gadgets for our children so they can open them up in a frenzy on Christmas morning then retreat back to their rooms to live in their virtual worlds. Two of my children recently complained about how hard it is making new friends as young adults. It is hard. They do everything instantly on line so making friends with actual flesh and blood people is hard. You have to take time to grow and nurture friendships. Who has time for that?
For several years we have had a house full of people on Christmas Eve. Each year we brought gifts for the gift exchange. It was one of those deals where everyone brings a gift, you take turns choosing and can steal something from someone else when your turn comes along. It was fun for a few years--though there were a few people who griped about what they got. They felt that they brought something much better than what they ended up with. Hearing this took the fun out of it for me. I found that most of us bought gift cards and ended up trying to steal back our own gift. What is the point in that?
Last year we traveled to Idaho to see our granddaughter for Christmas. We had to cancel Christmas Eve at our house since we wouldn't be home. Instead we were with a small group of people in a big house in the woods. Snow was on the ground. In my step-son's family they have a tradition of making homemade pizzas on Christmas Eve. They make it a tradition to try to come up with the best pizza. We baked, we played board games and actually interacted with one another. There was no big gift exchange, just small gifts. It was one of our Christmas' in a long time. It made me want something more for future holidays. Old fashioned family fun and small, simple gifts. I want to create new traditions for our family, traditions that will fit our lives and make us happy. Maybe we'll make sushi, maybe we'll watch old movies--I don't know what they will be. Our family will work together to create something new. We'll have our own personal picture post card just like other families should have their own. Maybe we will include some friends who are on their own or rent a cabin on the mountain.
This year will be a hard one for me and my family. It will be the first holiday season without my dad. This explains why I want to hibernate right now. Why I want to crawl into books and live in them for hours at a time. Why I have cancelled a few plans with friends. I am grieving this year--but I also have hope. I sent out a note to the extended family. I told them that I would host Christmas Eve again this year but if I did there would be changes. We would draw names and buy small gifts that we know the other person will like. Those receiving the gifts should feel blessed by them. They are opening something that was bought with them in mind from someone who cares. I told them the kids would be decorating cookies and maybe even making ornaments. I told them that I wouldn't be at all offended if they decided not to come. I suggested that they concentrate on coming up with new traditions for their own families. Change is hard, but it can be rewarding as well.
Tis' the season of "Black Friday" riots, rude drivers, overflowing parking lots, long lines and desperate attempts to find hard to get items. It doesn't have to be that way for all of us though. It is also the season of hope, love, good cheer, cheesy movies and family--whoever you choose your family to be. You don't have to spend miserable holidays wishing for spring. Change your attitude, make your own rules and learn to make it what it was meant to be. A time for giving to others and being thankful for what we have. I know dad would have approved.
Here and now it seems the holidays are upon us. I struggle with them each year and seeing Christmas displays earlier and earlier doesn't help. I'm not sure what it is about Christmas that fills me with dread. I loved it as a child. I loved it when my children were little. I'm not sure when I stopped decorating. I know that I used to. Sometimes I would bake even. For those of you who know my aversion to the kitchen and all things related to cooking picturing me baking may be a stretch. It's true though. I would make sugar cookies to decorate and even attempted "No Fail Fudge". Yes--I failed but the messy goop tasted really good.
I believe it was commercialism and high expectations that made me lose my way. As the bills got higher and the Christmas list grew longer I stressed on how I was supposed to afford the holiday. There were homeless people and those struggling to even eat on a normal day and here I was worried because I couldn't afford big presents and prime rib. I lost the true meaning and I'm know I'm not alone in that. I think a lot of people have lost the meaning. Those who start filling the store shelves in August, the stores who now open up on Thanksgiving to get a jump start on sales, the lists of popular items that are going to be hard to find--they all feed the desperation of making the holidays some picture post card that should look the same for each and every red blooded American. Let's buy more high tech gadgets for our children so they can open them up in a frenzy on Christmas morning then retreat back to their rooms to live in their virtual worlds. Two of my children recently complained about how hard it is making new friends as young adults. It is hard. They do everything instantly on line so making friends with actual flesh and blood people is hard. You have to take time to grow and nurture friendships. Who has time for that?
For several years we have had a house full of people on Christmas Eve. Each year we brought gifts for the gift exchange. It was one of those deals where everyone brings a gift, you take turns choosing and can steal something from someone else when your turn comes along. It was fun for a few years--though there were a few people who griped about what they got. They felt that they brought something much better than what they ended up with. Hearing this took the fun out of it for me. I found that most of us bought gift cards and ended up trying to steal back our own gift. What is the point in that?
Last year we traveled to Idaho to see our granddaughter for Christmas. We had to cancel Christmas Eve at our house since we wouldn't be home. Instead we were with a small group of people in a big house in the woods. Snow was on the ground. In my step-son's family they have a tradition of making homemade pizzas on Christmas Eve. They make it a tradition to try to come up with the best pizza. We baked, we played board games and actually interacted with one another. There was no big gift exchange, just small gifts. It was one of our Christmas' in a long time. It made me want something more for future holidays. Old fashioned family fun and small, simple gifts. I want to create new traditions for our family, traditions that will fit our lives and make us happy. Maybe we'll make sushi, maybe we'll watch old movies--I don't know what they will be. Our family will work together to create something new. We'll have our own personal picture post card just like other families should have their own. Maybe we will include some friends who are on their own or rent a cabin on the mountain.
This year will be a hard one for me and my family. It will be the first holiday season without my dad. This explains why I want to hibernate right now. Why I want to crawl into books and live in them for hours at a time. Why I have cancelled a few plans with friends. I am grieving this year--but I also have hope. I sent out a note to the extended family. I told them that I would host Christmas Eve again this year but if I did there would be changes. We would draw names and buy small gifts that we know the other person will like. Those receiving the gifts should feel blessed by them. They are opening something that was bought with them in mind from someone who cares. I told them the kids would be decorating cookies and maybe even making ornaments. I told them that I wouldn't be at all offended if they decided not to come. I suggested that they concentrate on coming up with new traditions for their own families. Change is hard, but it can be rewarding as well.
Tis' the season of "Black Friday" riots, rude drivers, overflowing parking lots, long lines and desperate attempts to find hard to get items. It doesn't have to be that way for all of us though. It is also the season of hope, love, good cheer, cheesy movies and family--whoever you choose your family to be. You don't have to spend miserable holidays wishing for spring. Change your attitude, make your own rules and learn to make it what it was meant to be. A time for giving to others and being thankful for what we have. I know dad would have approved.
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