Yesterday I simply could NOT stay awake. Richard says he kept track. He thinks I was up for a total of six hours the whole day. When you consider I fell asleep in the car, in the movie theater, and went to bed as soon as we got home, I guess I wasn't awake very much. I totally missed our visit with Tre. It was a very strange day. I did manage to do the crossword puzzle, between naps. Maybe that was what put me to sleep to begin with. And I caught up on my 100 words entries. Hey, it wasn't a total loss.
When we got to the theater in Cheney, we found out we were a few minutes late, and they were sold out. But for a few minutes we were just standing in the darkened hallway, waiting to see if we could get into the show. And the walls were moving, in and out, in sections, as if they were breathing, but not as one. Each section, doorframe or whatever, was moving as an individual breathing unit. It was so beautiful I was mesmerized. I could have stayed standing there for a long time, watching, but of course the theater staff showed up and told us all to go on our way.
So we went downtown to see Paris 36, but I fell asleep over and over again. I just couldn't pay attention to it. All I can remember from it is a woman with deep red lipstick. I hope I didn't snore. That would have embarrassed Richard. Maybe it was just boring.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Read This Book
I just finished reading a great book. It's called "You Don't Have To Die When Your Doctor Says." It's written by David Elliott, a New Zealander who has been given a terminal diagnosis of cancer, but is living in the belief that nothing is inevitable, the future is unwritten and the statistical data on his condition is really all about the past, and doesn't necessarily apply to him.
This book should be required reading for anyone who has a life-threatening illness, certainly. But I think it should be recommended reading for everyone, and especially anyone who wants to grow spiritually. David builds his arguments around some basic beliefs, among them the belief that we are responsible for our own lives, that we create our reality. He is particularly interested in how our beliefs about ourselves can create health or illness, and the distinct possibility that belief is decisive in healing. I personally find this to be a very encouraging notion. There is no place for a victim mindset in David's concept of recovery. On the contrary, what is needed is to take responsibility for your own condition and your own healing.
The principles and ideas David explores are relevant for anyone who wants to have more power and freedom in their life. Even many healthy people live as though they haven't got a choice about many aspects of their lives. Whether you have a short time to live or many healthy years ahead of you, that is no way to live them.
Why wait until you are facing the likelihood of imminent death to discover your personal power? Read this book now, and enjoy living more for the rest of your life, however long that may be.
This book should be required reading for anyone who has a life-threatening illness, certainly. But I think it should be recommended reading for everyone, and especially anyone who wants to grow spiritually. David builds his arguments around some basic beliefs, among them the belief that we are responsible for our own lives, that we create our reality. He is particularly interested in how our beliefs about ourselves can create health or illness, and the distinct possibility that belief is decisive in healing. I personally find this to be a very encouraging notion. There is no place for a victim mindset in David's concept of recovery. On the contrary, what is needed is to take responsibility for your own condition and your own healing.
The principles and ideas David explores are relevant for anyone who wants to have more power and freedom in their life. Even many healthy people live as though they haven't got a choice about many aspects of their lives. Whether you have a short time to live or many healthy years ahead of you, that is no way to live them.
Why wait until you are facing the likelihood of imminent death to discover your personal power? Read this book now, and enjoy living more for the rest of your life, however long that may be.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A Happy Day
Today was such a happy day for me. Allyson was happy to know who I was and wants to be in touch with her Dad and the rest of her family that she hasn't had contact with for so long. I've spent quite a while today searching out photos to send her of the family, so she can see us and get an idea of who we are, at least what we look like. She wrote back that she was in tears from how full of joy she was to see us all.
What an incredibly wonderful day. Needless to say, my brother is thrilled. He is getting his baby back. It's like the karma of the whole family shifted today.
What an incredibly wonderful day. Needless to say, my brother is thrilled. He is getting his baby back. It's like the karma of the whole family shifted today.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Lost And Found
I found my niece today. Her name is Allyson and she's my brother's daughter. She's 24 years old and I haven't seen her since she was about three years old. I looked for her on Facebook and found her there. As soon as I saw her picture, I knew I had found the right Allyson. She's a beautiful young woman now.
I asked to be her friend on FB and she said yes. So today, I got to look at her photos. It was really exciting, and I have my hopes up that she will still want to be my friend when she figures out who I am.
When her parents broke up, she was a little girl. The separation was not pretty, and she's had almost no contact with our side of the family as she was growing up. Not that we didn't want to have her in our lives. WE DID. But sometimes there are walls built up between people, and the rest of you can't find a way around them.
Anyway, it's been a long time, and right now I am just so happy to have found Allyson again.
I think she and Erin would be good friends, so I'm hoping they will meet each other soon...even if it's only on FB.
I have to decide how to tell her that I am her aunt. I'm not sure how to go about it. I want her to be happy about it, but I guess I have no control over that. I just don't want to lose her from my life again.
I asked to be her friend on FB and she said yes. So today, I got to look at her photos. It was really exciting, and I have my hopes up that she will still want to be my friend when she figures out who I am.
When her parents broke up, she was a little girl. The separation was not pretty, and she's had almost no contact with our side of the family as she was growing up. Not that we didn't want to have her in our lives. WE DID. But sometimes there are walls built up between people, and the rest of you can't find a way around them.
Anyway, it's been a long time, and right now I am just so happy to have found Allyson again.
I think she and Erin would be good friends, so I'm hoping they will meet each other soon...even if it's only on FB.
I have to decide how to tell her that I am her aunt. I'm not sure how to go about it. I want her to be happy about it, but I guess I have no control over that. I just don't want to lose her from my life again.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
And Scott Died
Scott Lasater died in February. He was younger than me, a lot younger than me. He had diabetes and Parkinson's, and his mother says he died from complications of his illnesses and the medications he was taking. In my heart of hearts, I feel he wanted to die. We had heard he was depressed. He was living in a nursing home and felt all alone. He was separated from his wife. I wonder if he took his own life. It wouldn't surprise me.
Comic Monologue: BREASTS
I was reading the news the other day, and I read where an underwire bra actually saved a woman's life. A bullet hit the wire and bounced off. No getting around it, having breasts saved her life. But I'll bet her tit was sore later on that night.
Anyway, it got me to thinking. Are there other advantages to having breasts? Because frankly I can think of lots of disadvantages to having breasts.
Like being sick and tired of strapping myself into a bra every morning. The damn thing is always too tight. And breasts are definitely in the way when you lay on your stomach. And you have to check them constantly for lumps. Not to mention the annual mammogram, which is just plain nasty.
They have you lay your breast on a plank, and then they stretch it out until it’s as flat as they can get it, and then they lay another plank over the top, and then they squeeze the whole thing with a vise, until they get it down to the thickness of a pancake.
And no matter how diligent you may be about checking, breast cancer is an ever-present threat, which incidentally gets worse with age. The entire reproductive system is this way. When you stop using it to make babies, it turns against you.
And after all, what are they? They are mammary glands. Considering you have to put up with them for your entire adult life, their functionality is really quite limited.
I remember being a young mother with a baby at my breast. Frankly, it was painful. When the baby was suckling it burned like fire, and the rest of the time I was engorged. Being engorged was not fun. You have to be careful not to touch them. I mean if you so much as brushed against one of them, it would start leaking. Talk about a milk-bath!
Mammary glands. Other than that, they're pretty much useless, bulky and they consist almost entirely of body fat.
Guys, of course, love them.
I remember being a skinny 16 year old in a t-shirt. I wanted to get a training bra, but I had nowhere to put it. I felt inadequate, unattractive and deficient because I didn't yet have breasts. I looked like a boy, without the muscles. I felt cursed, left out, deprived. And you can bet the boys wanted nothing to do with me.
When I finally did get breasts, the guys noticed immediately. Sometimes, it seemed like they were so busy noticing my breasts, they didn't have time to notice the rest of me. Even when I was talking to them. Or when they were talking to me.
During the sixties, when I was in my twenties, I had perky little breasts. They were perfect 32 B's. In the spirit of the times, I threw away my bras. I wore peasant blouses and pocket t-shirts, and tried to ignore that the men were mesmerized.
But being liberated wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I couldn't help but wonder if all those breast-fixated guys respected me as a person. If I could get them to look me in the eyes, maybe I could ask them. But even in the bedroom, there wasn't a lot of eye contact. I mean, one day I realized I was making love to the tops of their heads. What the hell were they doing down there, anyway?
But the years passed and eventually, I started wearing bras again. Like magic, men everywhere began to hear what I was saying. I could tell because they were answering me again. Just like in the old days when I was flat chested. Well, almost. Unless it was cold out, in which case my nipples would get hard and then all bets were off.
But the world has a way of evening things out. After all, men do have breasts. They are called "pecks." And yes, they do sag.
And speaking of men…did you ever wonder why so many women are willing to increase their cancer risk by taking hormones? It's not because they just can't handle the hot flashes, though that's what everybody talks about. Oh the horrors of night sweats! As irritating as that may be, that’s not it. The reason women take hormones is that we miss having a libido. They say you don't miss you water 'til your well runs dry. Well you don't miss your hormones 'til your ovaries shut down.
We take libido for granted. We've been horny so long we can't imagine life without a little lust in it. Men on the other hand, still have a healthy level of testosterone dripping into their veins long after women have become hormone-free zones.
Oh yeah, he still wants sex.
He wants to touch and snuggle. She wants to be left alone to deal with her hot flashes in peace. He wants to kiss and say "I love you." She’d be satisfied with a pat on the shoulder and "Hey, see you tomorrow." He wants to watch her tits giggle when she dries her hair after a shower. She wants him to close the door and quit letting cold air into the bathroom. He wants to play footsie in bed. She wants him to stay on his own side and stop bugging her. He wants to hold hands. The list goes on.
Romance just isn't as interesting without the chemicals.
But is it fair to expect a guy to just give it up? Like that’s gonna happen. So now we know why men leave their post-menopausal wives for younger women. It’s not because younger women are thinner than you, or cuter than you. Turns out it’s much simpler than that. Those younger women are hormonal, and unlike you they still want to have sex.
Anyway, it got me to thinking. Are there other advantages to having breasts? Because frankly I can think of lots of disadvantages to having breasts.
Like being sick and tired of strapping myself into a bra every morning. The damn thing is always too tight. And breasts are definitely in the way when you lay on your stomach. And you have to check them constantly for lumps. Not to mention the annual mammogram, which is just plain nasty.
They have you lay your breast on a plank, and then they stretch it out until it’s as flat as they can get it, and then they lay another plank over the top, and then they squeeze the whole thing with a vise, until they get it down to the thickness of a pancake.
And no matter how diligent you may be about checking, breast cancer is an ever-present threat, which incidentally gets worse with age. The entire reproductive system is this way. When you stop using it to make babies, it turns against you.
And after all, what are they? They are mammary glands. Considering you have to put up with them for your entire adult life, their functionality is really quite limited.
I remember being a young mother with a baby at my breast. Frankly, it was painful. When the baby was suckling it burned like fire, and the rest of the time I was engorged. Being engorged was not fun. You have to be careful not to touch them. I mean if you so much as brushed against one of them, it would start leaking. Talk about a milk-bath!
Mammary glands. Other than that, they're pretty much useless, bulky and they consist almost entirely of body fat.
Guys, of course, love them.
I remember being a skinny 16 year old in a t-shirt. I wanted to get a training bra, but I had nowhere to put it. I felt inadequate, unattractive and deficient because I didn't yet have breasts. I looked like a boy, without the muscles. I felt cursed, left out, deprived. And you can bet the boys wanted nothing to do with me.
When I finally did get breasts, the guys noticed immediately. Sometimes, it seemed like they were so busy noticing my breasts, they didn't have time to notice the rest of me. Even when I was talking to them. Or when they were talking to me.
During the sixties, when I was in my twenties, I had perky little breasts. They were perfect 32 B's. In the spirit of the times, I threw away my bras. I wore peasant blouses and pocket t-shirts, and tried to ignore that the men were mesmerized.
But being liberated wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I couldn't help but wonder if all those breast-fixated guys respected me as a person. If I could get them to look me in the eyes, maybe I could ask them. But even in the bedroom, there wasn't a lot of eye contact. I mean, one day I realized I was making love to the tops of their heads. What the hell were they doing down there, anyway?
But the years passed and eventually, I started wearing bras again. Like magic, men everywhere began to hear what I was saying. I could tell because they were answering me again. Just like in the old days when I was flat chested. Well, almost. Unless it was cold out, in which case my nipples would get hard and then all bets were off.
But the world has a way of evening things out. After all, men do have breasts. They are called "pecks." And yes, they do sag.
And speaking of men…did you ever wonder why so many women are willing to increase their cancer risk by taking hormones? It's not because they just can't handle the hot flashes, though that's what everybody talks about. Oh the horrors of night sweats! As irritating as that may be, that’s not it. The reason women take hormones is that we miss having a libido. They say you don't miss you water 'til your well runs dry. Well you don't miss your hormones 'til your ovaries shut down.
We take libido for granted. We've been horny so long we can't imagine life without a little lust in it. Men on the other hand, still have a healthy level of testosterone dripping into their veins long after women have become hormone-free zones.
Oh yeah, he still wants sex.
He wants to touch and snuggle. She wants to be left alone to deal with her hot flashes in peace. He wants to kiss and say "I love you." She’d be satisfied with a pat on the shoulder and "Hey, see you tomorrow." He wants to watch her tits giggle when she dries her hair after a shower. She wants him to close the door and quit letting cold air into the bathroom. He wants to play footsie in bed. She wants him to stay on his own side and stop bugging her. He wants to hold hands. The list goes on.
Romance just isn't as interesting without the chemicals.
But is it fair to expect a guy to just give it up? Like that’s gonna happen. So now we know why men leave their post-menopausal wives for younger women. It’s not because younger women are thinner than you, or cuter than you. Turns out it’s much simpler than that. Those younger women are hormonal, and unlike you they still want to have sex.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Spamalot in Spokane
Spamalot is on stage in Spokane, and it's a delightful addition to the local scene. I personally think the musical is funnier and way more entertaining overall than the movie was. Although now that I have seen the musical on the live stage, I will enjoy the movie more. The tickets were pricy for the Spokane market, but worth the expense. We had a great time.
Going Where No Star Trek Has Gone Before
The new Star Trek is a new beginning for the original crew, a parallel time/space continuum, where things are similar but distinctly not the same. I mean, Spock and Ahura are in love, and if that isn't enough they destroyed Vulcan and Romulan just in the first movie. But as far as getting the young versions of the original cast right, they absolutely did it. The characters are great. And in spite of the oddities, like Spock being more human, it is most definitely STAR TREK. It is the real thing. And for that, I am or course grateful and happy. After all, there can never be too much Trek.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Almost Six
This morning Richard and Tre were up early. I was still mostly asleep when Tre came into the room.
"I want to go home. I'm bored," he said.
Next thing I knew, they were out the door. I turned over and hugged my pillow. A minute later, Tre was back. I heard him come through the door and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he called out to me.
"I came back to say goodbye."
"Oh," I said. "Goodbye sweetheart."
"Mom Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Do I have to kiss you?"
"No, honey, you don't have to."
"Okay. Goodbye."
With that, he was down the stairs and gone.
"I want to go home. I'm bored," he said.
Next thing I knew, they were out the door. I turned over and hugged my pillow. A minute later, Tre was back. I heard him come through the door and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he called out to me.
"I came back to say goodbye."
"Oh," I said. "Goodbye sweetheart."
"Mom Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Do I have to kiss you?"
"No, honey, you don't have to."
"Okay. Goodbye."
With that, he was down the stairs and gone.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Oh hell, 100 words is down again. I hate when that happens. I just fall behind, and it is not easy to write 100 words every day, never mind having to catch up. And I do it....why?
Good question. I guess the idea was to develop a daily practice related to writing, build a muscle, a writing muscle. Not sure if that has happened.
Meanwhile, Facebook is becoming a bore. I have more fun at the political news sites. Facebook is like an online cocktail party.
At least the political blogs are spirited. And nobody seems to give a shit about being polite. Which I like.
People seem determined to be shallow on Facebook. Twitter is even worse. I mean, fuck sake they're not even funny.
Good question. I guess the idea was to develop a daily practice related to writing, build a muscle, a writing muscle. Not sure if that has happened.
Meanwhile, Facebook is becoming a bore. I have more fun at the political news sites. Facebook is like an online cocktail party.
At least the political blogs are spirited. And nobody seems to give a shit about being polite. Which I like.
People seem determined to be shallow on Facebook. Twitter is even worse. I mean, fuck sake they're not even funny.
Expletive Deleted
Oh my God, I have been BLEEPED!
My piece "Abby & Bert" had to be revised to make it ready for radio. All the colorful language had to be replaced with more "palatable" choices.
So "For Christ's sake" became "For cryin' out loud." "Shit!" became "Ugh!" and so forth.
I find I have real feelings about this. I can see that the script will still have impact, even with the less colorful language. But there is a part of me that rebels against censorship, just on general principle. Somewhere along the line, we have to take a stand. We have to say, this is Art.
Or do we?
I'm a little disturbed by my own ambivalence. I mean, I don't want to be "precious" about every word I write either. "This is Art" could be a bunch of bullshit too.
So anyway, I changed the language, but not permanently. In the original, he says "Gourmet my ass!" not "Gourmet my eye." And I do think it makes a difference. "Gourmet my ass!" is better, damn it.
Jeez. I didn't realize Spokane listeners had such sensitive ears.
My piece "Abby & Bert" had to be revised to make it ready for radio. All the colorful language had to be replaced with more "palatable" choices.
So "For Christ's sake" became "For cryin' out loud." "Shit!" became "Ugh!" and so forth.
I find I have real feelings about this. I can see that the script will still have impact, even with the less colorful language. But there is a part of me that rebels against censorship, just on general principle. Somewhere along the line, we have to take a stand. We have to say, this is Art.
Or do we?
I'm a little disturbed by my own ambivalence. I mean, I don't want to be "precious" about every word I write either. "This is Art" could be a bunch of bullshit too.
So anyway, I changed the language, but not permanently. In the original, he says "Gourmet my ass!" not "Gourmet my eye." And I do think it makes a difference. "Gourmet my ass!" is better, damn it.
Jeez. I didn't realize Spokane listeners had such sensitive ears.
Tre is sleeping across the bottom of my bed. Richard is tucked in on his usual side of the bed. I'm sitting on top of the blankets with my computer in my lap and the Tonight Show on TV. Working together we got the house clean enough to have company. Luis and Sandy are coming over for Italian food tomorrow. I still need to shop for Ricotta cheese, lettuce and Italian bread. We also need some wine. and we have to have a nice pie for dessert.
So I have shopping to do, as well as several hours of cooking and preparing. I need a good night's rest tonight.
It's black of night, but the Tonight Show is still on, and I look forward to my daily dose of Leno.
The cat is laying between Richard's feet and the dog is over here next to me. We're all together. I will remember this night.
So I have shopping to do, as well as several hours of cooking and preparing. I need a good night's rest tonight.
It's black of night, but the Tonight Show is still on, and I look forward to my daily dose of Leno.
The cat is laying between Richard's feet and the dog is over here next to me. We're all together. I will remember this night.
Friday, May 1, 2009
KYRS Seasoned Players Debut
Wow. Allen pulled it off. We are going on the air Sunday afternoon at 5:00 with the first broadcast of the Seasoned Players on KYRS Spokane - Thin Air Radio, 92.3 FM.
I have to pick something five minutes long to read on the air. I'm thinking I'd rather do a script than read a story or poetry. So I've asked Paul if he's willing to read "Abby and Bert" with me. Somehow, reading a script feels safer, less threatening. There's a big part of me that doesn't want to be too serious, or heaven-forbid "heavy." Especially not in our debut. Richard will read poetry for his five minute slot. Not sure what Vicki will do, but wouldn't be surprised if she also reads poetry. Not sure what Joan will do.
In addition to picking what piece to read on the air, we have to provide a bio for the host to use to introduce us, and also to engage us in conversation. I'm tempted to talk about my ministry of Reiki/Energy Healing. Talk about putting it out there!
What would that be like?
I have to pick something five minutes long to read on the air. I'm thinking I'd rather do a script than read a story or poetry. So I've asked Paul if he's willing to read "Abby and Bert" with me. Somehow, reading a script feels safer, less threatening. There's a big part of me that doesn't want to be too serious, or heaven-forbid "heavy." Especially not in our debut. Richard will read poetry for his five minute slot. Not sure what Vicki will do, but wouldn't be surprised if she also reads poetry. Not sure what Joan will do.
In addition to picking what piece to read on the air, we have to provide a bio for the host to use to introduce us, and also to engage us in conversation. I'm tempted to talk about my ministry of Reiki/Energy Healing. Talk about putting it out there!
What would that be like?
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