Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
looking for a sweet woman to share what i like, must like watching wrestling, hunting fishing ,, oh and the packers. some who is kind, good sence of hummer, who is funny, someone who loves talking... go to a movie, go danceing, go to the new zoo, or cook super at my place and talk, or rent movies and order a pizza, or what ever the ladie wants to do, go walking on the (sic) river trails, or go to (sic) beach walk round and talk, go up to (sic) lodge, go for a bike ride, or go to a park and talk.
Please tell me it will get better. Bob? Clifton?
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
I had been promising to share myself a long time ago, you know, in writing. Recently, Bob shared some information about himself and challenged me and others to do the same, thereby putting some much needed fire under me. This will be an ongoing project, and each time I'll give it a little spin. This time, I have provided my own response to each of Bob's subject matters, and added some of my own. Without further ado, here are 19 elements of me.
What a way to start this off...
1. I have a dirty mouth. A few of you know about the Lenten Cuss Jar. Rather appropriately, I cannot stand to hear people use foul language in public, to hear people curse in front of children, or worse yet, at their children. That goes right through me, and it's a vicious cycle not easily broken. I love the challenge of making my point under heated circumstances without using a naughty word.
2. I respect the religious choices of others, and don’t care for it when people are critical of other people’s choices. Keep that to yourself and mind your business.
3. Every time I tell a lie, it backfires on me. Example: After Katrina, stressed, lonely, overworked and underappreciated, I matter-of-factly told my doctor I felt like killing my insurance claim adjuster and several people in my office. Yep, I said those words. I knew I would never do that, but he didn’t. I wasn’t concerned about the possible repercussions for the statement, either. It was the second lowest point in my life. Unlike the very lowest point in my life, I didn't have the protection of being in shock. Everything worked my nerves. I was burned out and hostile. After he determined I was no harm to myself (that seemed to be all he cared about - love him for that), my doctor prescribed an antidepressant. After reading the side effects, I decided that wine would suffice in seeing me through this dark period (it’s carried me far beyond that). When I returned for a follow up, I couldn't bring myself to tell him I wasn't taking the medication after all that drama, so I lied. When asked, I told him that on a scale of 1-10, I was a six, where I had previously been a two. He immediately said I should be a nine or ten, upped the dosage and scheduled a follow-up, which would include blood work. I was sure to be found out then. This type of thing always happens when I lie, and I do my best to avoid it.
(I never went back for the blood work. He's still my doctor, a very good one, and is himself a little crazy, which I find endearing).
4. High school was probably one of the most painful times of my life. While there were some good times, laughs and memories, there was also a great deal of pain, misery, frustration, rejection, and never feeling like I belonged anywhere. There is not a thing you can offer me to make me relive one day of my high school years, but it no longer makes me sad to look back on it. Why? 'Cause I'm all grown up and happy now, bitches!
5. You want me to come to your defense very quickly? I'm talking, ready to fight any and everybody messing with you? Let me even think you're the underdog. I will slay a dragon for you.
6. At one time in my life, I was a voracious reader. Not so much anymore. I still read, but not like a mad woman. I’d like to say it’s due to having less free time, which is true, but if I lay off social media I’d be reading twice as many books, at least.
7. I don't care for people who don't (or won't) think critically. It's okay not to have an opinion about everything, but I have little tolerance for those who have no opinion about anything, or for those with a herd mentality.
8. Okay, Bob, I have to disagree with you on this one. My relationship with cats is complicated and I will write about it later. I don't think cats are dumb animals, but dogs are smarter, and I have seen exceptions on both counts. I do love kittens. Once they lose their innocence and become cats, not so much. I have a few scars I can show you, put there by my beloved Toby, while I was petting him, mind you. He now resides with my son. I still don't dislike cats, but dogs give generous, unconditional love, and the extra maintenance is worth it. I am a dog person.
9. I have never witnessed the death of anyone. I imagine it to be emotional, very sad, and depending on the circumstances, possessing elements of beauty. I would be scared to die right now, but I hope when that time comes I’ll go into it gracefully.
10. I am a fantastic shower singer, and actually carry a decent tune. One of my childhood fantasies comes to life during this time and has remained unchanged for decades: I am a singing superstar in a slinky, sequined dress that compliments my caramel skin beautifully (yes, I thought this way as a child), sparkles coming from my fingers, my shoes, my earlobes, and in my perfectly coiffed hair. My top singing fantasies vacillate between this one and the one where I'm Chaka Khan. As a matter of fact, I was Chaka Khan just this morning, but I digress. In my fantasies, so outstanding is my voice it causes the audience to look up at me in awe, with pure loving adoration, and I love them right back.
11. I am true foodie. I love good food like I could love the right man, and no, I will not further this sentiment here. I love to cook and dare to say if I cooked for you, whoever you are, you would want little more than to be my bitch. As I write this, I’m laughing but I’m quite serious. I also appreciate good food made by others. Wine, chocolate, colorful salads, the sweet, the tangy, the savory, healthy, fresh, natural foods, I love it all, and I love some of the bad stuff, too, though not like I used to.
12. I can't say I hate nuns, but I generally dislike them. After 13 years of Catholic schools run by some of the most evil ones on this planet, just seeing a nun’s habit causes me to scowl. Even now, sometimes I’ll have a flashback when I pass one on the street, and think to myself how lucky she is I don't carry around some hot lye to fling in her unsuspecting, whiskered face. Are there good nuns? I am sure there are, and the Blessed Mother Theresa stands alone, but I promise you, I have never personally known a nun who wasn't at least a little evil.
13. I was an extremely sensitive, shy, soft hearted child, especially when it came to animals. I cried for days after seeing The Yearling. I was devastated after seeing Old Yeller. They still hold a soft spot for me, and if I think something bad is going to happen to an animal in a movie, I won’t watch it.
14. The older I get, the less I care what people think of me. I'm real from the very beginning, and quite fabulous. If you don't recognize that, it's more than okay.
15. I am not photogenic, and have numerous complaints about my appearance, even though I'm cute. (Well I am!) That being said, there are certain elements I love about myself, won't embellish on this either.
16. I love cheesy, sappy movies during Christmas; completely out of character for me.
17. I am a very complex person. I'm a girly girl who thinks like a man about some things. Fiercely loyal, sensitive, sarcastic and sardonic. I can be generous with a total stranger, but there are some things about which I am unapologetically selfish. As sweet as I am, I can also be the meanest, coldest woman alive if you wrong me or anyone I care about. I would have no compunction turning my back on you if you betray me. I'm pretty cool natured, yet feisty as hell. Most of the time I feel like I can do anything and I have the world on a string, but there are times when I feel quite the opposite. Fortunately, those moments are few and far between.
18. I have such respect and admiration for intense, romantic, devoted love. It is sacred to me. I have not yet met the love of my life and I’ve come to accept that I may not. The older I get the less I’m willing to share important elements of my life, especially my time. Of course, for the right one I’d think differently. I’ll know he’s the right one because our love will be exponential, spilling onto everyone around us, for that’s how he and I shall roll.
19. I absolutely love funny people because baaaaby, I am one funny chica. Ask someone who knows me, or just stick around.
Well, there you have it. I just shared 19 pieces of me. Why nineteen? It's my favorite number, but I guess this disclosure makes it 20 pieces. Isn't that just like me?
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
NOTE: This is my original artwork. Please do not reproduce without express written permission. I had better not see this masterpiece in your homes.
My best friend, Mrs. Jovial, is quite the opposite. She looks to me to remember things, and I do. My memory bank is available to her and whoever else may need it. I don't believe my memory has ever let her down. That is, until now. You see, I have done something I have never done the entire length of our friendship.
I forgot my best friend's birthday.
I remembered two days before. In fact, we were to meet for dinner the night before her birthday, but our plans got canceled. That day, she had a scheduling conflict, I had a crisis on top of being super busy and was occupied from sunrise to sunset. The next day, April 26, was her birthday. I was up early, checked the news and learned of Bea Arthur's death, wrote a post, and went on about my day, again working all the way through until it was time for me to have my tea and watch the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. Later that night as I was speaking to a relative, I realized my transgression, but it was too late to call the Jovial home. Besides, who wants a birthday wish that late at night?
The next morning I apologized profusely. Mrs. Jovial was gracious, maybe because sometimes she's just sweet like that. More than likely, it's because she understands what it feels like to forget. I don't know which one it is, but I'm glad she was okay, because the Queen doesn't grovel too well for long. Queenie is however, well versed in the apology. I'll let you figure out why that is.
Without further ado, I am offering the following:
What's your preference, a Cosmo...
Or, a chocolatini?
A magnificent plate of seafood pasta. I'll cook it myself.
Or how about I go way back:
I hope you enjoy this, and know we will celebrate in real life. Ummm, you do know the shoes are given in spirit only, right? Hey, it's the thought that counts.
Happy Birthday, much love, and may you have many, many more.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
My roses are growing beautifully. Well, twenty of the twenty-two, that is. Besides some fertilizer last week, and cutting on Good Friday, I haven't really done anything. I can't wait until I really get in there next week. They were beautiful last year, and I'm thinking this year will be even better. I'll have to take pictures.
I am being pulled in many different directions and it seems everything has suffered. I know I can do it all and do it well. It's just a matter of better organization.
Mr. and Mrs. Jovial had a terrible experience recently, due to their precious children having a traumatic experience while mom and dad were out of town. They never leave their kids, and this happens. I feel so bad for them, but I am also grateful, as they are, that their babies are okay. We are all thankful to God for that. I first found out about the incident from a MyS.pac.e bulletin posted by the oldest child.
I have been talking to someone with whom I have very little in common. We are clicking like you wouldn't believe. Story of my life.
I'm very happy I have family coming to visit. I hope the visit is enjoyable comfortable, relaxing, reflective, and everything else she wants it to be.
My car is acting funny.
My new bedroom is more beautiful than I anticipated, and I anticipated it to be beautiful. I am quite pleased.
I have a writing gig! Can't wait to get started.
Sometimes, your family will kick you in the ass worse than a stranger with ill intentions. Sometimes, you have to save yourself from your own family. That makes me sad, but not for one minute will I let it slow me down.
I have begun working out again. Pray for me.
FEMA sent me a letter saying they were removing all the trailers in Orleans Parish as of May 1. According to this letter, I cannot appeal this decision. I laughed at that for about a minute.
I saw a bottle of wine at the supermarket last week and decided to check it out. It's called Gewurztraminer. I enjoyed it thoroughly, with Thai food. I will be purchasing again.
I got the wood floor refinished in the very last room that needed it upstairs - the guest room. It is beautiful, and more shiny than the rest of the floors.
I am currently pleased with my legs. This is something I never say. Now that I'm working out again, they will go back to being the legs I don't like, but they'll be toned, healthy, and take me where I need to go as they always have.
I often think of Idris Elba in an impure manner. Ditto for Chiwetel Ejiofor, with some extra. There's just something about that African-English combo that turns out some beautiful people. Mm-mm-mmm!
Now, I need a glass of water.
I would say I need new people, but I fit right in just where I am:
I called a relative on Good Friday. She told me she watched The Ten Commandments earlier that day. I commented that she did that every Easter and it was a good tradition. There was a loooong pause. She then commented that the Hebrew slaves were very fine.
I found myself agreeing with her. Hey, I already asked you to pray.
Our group is having lunch at one of my favorite restaurants today in commemoration of Administrative Worker's Day.
One of our secretaries received a beautiful heather plant from her boss. I went to sniff it. Something went up my nose and hit the back of my throat. I started coughing and sneezing. Secretary nearly killed herself laughing. I may cut her when my respiratory passages are clear and I can think about it without laughing. This is the stuff that happens to me all the time.
I will be doing the "pieces of me" thing soon, with a little twist I stole from Mark.
I don't understand the desperate behavior of some women. Do you need a man so badly you'll take anything? This is what makes ugly men who don't have much on the ball act like their you-know-what doesn't stink. That burns me up. It makes me want to crush the berries of such "men". Think of your worth, ladies. If you're not treating yourself like a queen, he won't either.
Me? Sometimes I'm a queen, sometimes a princess. More often than not, I am a goddess.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
My personal opinion is that Officer Robert Powell has no business being a police officer. This is not his first time pulling a move like this, having arrested the wife of Zachary Thomas a while back.
These are just two instances, and they involve people who are "known". Who knows what other countless irresponsible indiscretions this miserable officer has committed, just because he thinks he can?
My condolences go out to the Moats family.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Talk about involved:
Friday, March 20, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Lola, did I tell you that? Anyway, I got you some Christian Louboutin shoes. He's my favorite shoe designer. (Okay, it's just the pic. I'm not rich yet, Honey, and I have yet to own a pair for myself.) Anyway, enjoy looking at this.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I've seen this one in a few places. I'm posting it here because it's still funny. These lovely, breakfast refusing folks got time on their local morning show, called "The Mornin' Show," in Tupelo, Mississippi. I wonder, who was their competition for the spot? When was the last time you had Nuts of Grapes or Sugar & Rice? Hmmmm...
Monday, March 9, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Some cake (It's yellow cake with chocolate frosting):
I found a group to sing for you:
Thursday, March 5, 2009
He doesn't deserve a career. Right now he doesn't even deserve a happy life. I can't stand to look at him. If he were my son I would not uphold his actions. Then again, my son doesn't beat on people.
I wish Rihanna could know HE WILL NOT STOP. If he's sincere in seeking help, he'd ask for her support from afar while he gets it, so as to ensure he would not hurt her again. You know, because he loves her so much. Rihanna when a man loves you, he does not beat on you when you disagree. If a man is beating on you, he doesn't even like you!
Rihanna, you deserve so much more. I'm praying that you get it.
God, forgive me, but Chris, I pray you get yours, too.
Here's the link that includes the affidavit:
Merriam Webster gives one of its definitions of the word "messy" as 'extremely unpleasant or trying'. Dictionary.com describes it as 'characterized by moral or psychological confusion', which is closer to the definition I seek. As far as I know, there isn't a definition for "messy" or "mess" that accurately characterizes people who purposely put forth effort to cause confusion in the lives of others, nor the situations that arise when these deeds are carried out.
I recently talked to a friend who is dealing with someone who is always in the middle of a messy situation with someone, usually because she is the one who starts it. When this person, whom I shall hereinafter call Sputia, has a disagreement with someone, she enlists the support of everyone she knows in shunning and ostracizing the object of her wrath. Unfortunately, my friend cannot easily cutoff Sputia, and must constantly try to remain neutral so as to keep the peace.
I listened as my friend explained Sputia's latest antics. When it was time for me to respond I said some things that caused me to have to put about $5 in the cuss jar. Without repeating my transgression, I will say that Sputia is an unhappy, evil, ornery, curmudgeonly bully whose goal is to bring distress to anyone she thinks may embark on happiness. She has been this way since I have known her, and I believe her appearance is a reflection of what she has emitted over the years. It has in fact become her essence.
There is a Mr. Sputia. He is just as awful as his wife.
Oh, and I have more than aptly nicknamed her, and that's all I'll say.
I have another friend who is dealing with not one, but two mess-makers. To make matters worse, these two heffas have recently become quite chummy. Unfortunately, my friend is unable to completely escape being in their presence. Mess Maker No. 1 likes to attribute false statements to unsuspecting, innocent people. When the situation blows up in her face, as has been known to happen, there is drama and a whole lot of crying, which is unfortunate for those who must witness this, because ol' girl looks like Tales From the Crypt when she's not crying. I'm serious. She's scary looking. Anyway, Crypt has been spending more time with Mess Maker No. 2, Ms. Uber competitive. Uber is the type who will tell you she's purchased three pairs of shoes if you say you purchased one. She is the type to say she was spotted on the street and offered a modeling gig in Paris. (Giving her the benefit of the doubt, she perhaps would make a nice hand model, but that's it. Then again, I'm sure there are lovely hands all over Paris already). Anyway, Crypt and Uber are toxic on their own, but they have now joined forces to make toxic waste. They get together and lie about themselves and on others, wreaking havoc where they go, not caring for one second that they may hurt someone. In fact, sometimes hurt is their goal. With any luck they'll cancel each other out. Understandably, my friend does not want to be around this negativity. In response to my friend's plight, I referred to them as two, umm, shall we say, farmer's instruments? You know...
Add another .50 to the cuss jar. (I don't believe the farmer's instrument word merits a full 'cuss word' status, and thus I have decided the charge is .50.)
The reasons people are messy are as varied as the ugly situations they create, but there is a common thread. People who create mess are generally unhappy and feel inadequate in some way. I don't know why they never seem to realize their actions will always bring to them the very misfortune they intend for others. Everything you put out into the universe, good or bad, is returned to you. That's just the way it is.
If I discover you are messy, you can best believe that unless it is absolutely necessary, I will not be spending time with you. I will run from you faster than a scalded cat. I choose to be as happy as I can be every day. I take care to treat others the way I want to be treated, and to spend my time with those who feel the same way.
What about you? Are you dealing with the mess of others? Are you one of the mess-makers? What do you choose for yourself?
You gotta love this man.
You know, I never really paid attention. I suppose I would have noticed if he were poorly dressed, what with his being royal and everything.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
I always did like Usher.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
My Answer: Paul Rudd. Check it out:
They're both good looking, funny and smart. Neither of these men take themselves too seriously. The only issue might be eye color, but we can work around that. NBC, call me - there's plenty where this came from!
What do you think?
Monday, March 2, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
The weather started off warm and muggy, and within a few hours turned cold and windy, without any rain.
I'm currently on the sofa in the den, supposedly for the purpose of clearing out some DVR memory. However, I see that Chiwetel Ejiofor is on. He's not a man I like to keep waiting. So, it looks like the DVR Memory will not be changing today.
I have a few more posts about wine for our tasting next week. I pray there are no more delays.
It's time to start working in my garden. My roses need some attention, and they show gratitude in such beautiful ways.
What's up with your weekend?
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
...Gwyneth's Website, Goop.com being slammed? I don't understand the big deal. If you don't like somebody's website/blog, go somewhere else. There's plenty of them - find one you'll like.
Stop hating on her for having a good life and wanting to share.
I’ve watched Mr. Santelli on cable the past 24 hours or so. I’m not entirely sure where Mr. Santelli lives or in what house he lives, but the American people are struggling every day to meet their mortgages, stay in their jobs, pay their bills, send their kids to school.
Where is the threat? Mr. Santelli, no disrespect to your wife, who I am sure is as lovely as you, but did you have the nerve to think you can call out the President of the United States the way you did and receive no response? In your tirade, you asked if President Obama was listening. Well, he was. The next time you decide to make a bold move, you should have the fortitude to see it all the way through and not whine when you receive a response like you're five and somebody's picking on you.
And no, I am not threatening you. You cheeky punk.
Isn't it good to hear good news?
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