Cocoons

Came online to work on the June issue of my magazine, but something came up and now I'm trying to calm down and find my center so I can work on the finishing touches of the issue.

I have a friend. His name is Doug. We met in 2002 and for a while there was romance, but since last June, we've settled into a friendship only type of relationship. He's 11 yrs younger with a 4 yr-old daughter whom he has full custody of. I've mentioned her. He and I get along fairly well. Our topics of conversation are usually his daughter, my nephews, movies and television--sometimes politics. Mainly see each other a few times a month. Talk every week. There never has been an exchange of the L word. Never. The closest he has ever come is to say I'm amazing.

I asked him last week why didn't he go out and find a girl to romance. That we don't have much in common and he should be with someone who sets him on fire. He didn't give me an answer. I think he probably was taken aback by the question.

But I already know the answer to that. A real girlfriend would put more demands on him. Ask to go out more. Probably question why he doesn't stand up to his mother and get his own place (his mother has pressured him into buying a house for all 3 of them--he wants an apartment). A real girlfriend wouldn't put up with the way he lets Emily's mom--who is a psycho and whom he never married--insert herself into his life in ways that an ex 'anything' shouldn't.

I don't do any of that. It's his life. From our friendship, he gets feminine company, someone mature to talk to and an easygoing person who doesn't care if its movie night or dinner night or 'I'll bring a movie over' night. Who understands when he cancels due to his daughter wanting him to stay home with her or the fact his mother doesn't feel like keeping her and has to bring her along.

How do I feel about him? He is a very good friend. I think he's a great father. He never shrinks responsibilities, works hard and has a goofy sense of humor. He's intelligence and a Republican. I am a Republican and so our views on many social and world issues are the same.

There are a few things I don't like about him but they are easy to deal with. He's a big Beach Boys fan and doesn't understand the 70's. He relates to Hugh Grant and has gone as far as comparing him to Cary Grant. WRONG... not in the same class, not even close. He likes goofy teen type movies and chick flicks...and also I think he's too protective of his daughter.

Don't get me wrong. I know in today's world being protective is important. My sister Lisa would step in right now and say..."You don't have children. You don't understand." An argument would commense with me pointing out I did have a child, even if it was a miscarriage and just because I'm not an active parent like she is doesn't mean I don't have maternal instincts. I've had them since I was 5, because I was put in charge of looking out for her and my brother. Then I would point out all the people I've taken care of all my life and we would be like the Tarot Two of Swords card--at a stalemate.

I was raised by a mother who taught me right from wrong. Who encouraged me to make my own decisions, trusting in me that they would be the right ones. Most of the time they were. She never tried to shelter us, not even my handicapped brother. If we made decisions we regretted, we had to stick with the situation until it was resolved. In other words, 'if we made our bed, we laid in it.'

William is austic but he's a smart little fellow. His social skills are low due to autism. He's in an afterschool program this summer at the daycare Lisa works at. The ages of the class are 6 yrs to 12 yrs. It seems the older kids won't let him play with them and tend to push him around. I'm sure they can see that he's different. And children are cruel. Instead of trying to teach William to defend himself, Lisa has decided to let him stay in the program for a few hours and then brings him to my house after lunch to stay with my brother. She does her best to check on him hourly and if she sees any of the kids near him in the halls, she gives them the evil eye and tells them to leave him alone. I heard her telling him that he should tell his teacher if they bother him.

I think she's wrong to do this. He can defend himself. I've seen him chase Ben down and hit him because he felt Ben slighted him in some way. If he can beat Ben up, he can defend himself against these kids. William needs to learn to stand up for himself or he'll always be a victim of bullies.

This brings me back to Doug. His sister subs at a public school and has told him all sorts of horror stories about public schools. Emily will be in kindergarten this fall. Now he's afraid she'll be tortured if she goes to a public school. His sister's kids are in a private school and he's thinking of putting Emily in it.

He asked my opinion tonight which caused much tension between us... now before I go any further, I'll go on the record by saying that I don't disapprove of Private Schools or even Home Schooling. My opinions are based on what I've witnessed in this area--which is Bible Belt land. So if I offend anyone, I don't mean harm.

This is pretty much what I told him:

I've known people who have used private schools and they've been great experiences. The same goes for home schooling. But I also know some that haven't. I think if you decided to use a private school that you should check it out to see if it's up to standards and so forth...

What I have a problem is ...reasons for using them. The private school Doug wants to use is one with a reputation of daily Bible scripture learning, no talking at all, not even during lunch or during restroom breaks. It's a school that is very strict with little tolerance for going outside the lines. This is the kind of school I have a problem with.

To me, social education is as important as scholastic studies. It's natural to want to cushion your child from the harsh realities of the world. But I think that if you don't allow your child the chance to mingle with children of all races and cultures that in the long run the child will find it difficult to live in the real world. There is no other side of the rainbow or a fairy Godmother. Life is meant to be hard or we wouldn't appreciate Heaven or the things we strive to work for that make life better.

We have to make our children aware of the evils that are out there. That there are good roads to take and there are bad roads to avoid. That there are mean people that will have to be dealt with. Also that there are great rewards for doing moral things. We have to teach children to be the best person that they can be.

I think cocooning them isn't the answer. You can't hide the world from them. Sooner or later it finds them.

I was very adamant to Doug about being pro-public school--and he got upset over it. We didn't argue. But there was a huge awkwardness between us, after he changed the subject.

This happened a few hours ago and I'm still in turmoil over it. Mainly because I feel he's weak. That he doesn't have the strength to deal with the situations Emily will eventually have to face. He thinks sheltering her is a way to keep the world at bay.

I think he's wrong and I think my sister is too... what tools we learn to use during our youth are the ones we'll use in dealing with obstacles in life.

My personal opinion only. None of this is written in stone...ok maybe in my personal stone.

Random Thoughts

I'm working on a photo today that has a zillion white spots all over it. They're the size of pinheads and it's taking forever. I'm zapping them with my cloner. If I work for 20 mins straight, my right hand goes numb. Damn Carpal Tunnel Syndrome! So I stop for a few minutes and squeeze my squeezy ball or type an email or blog post. Guess what..that's what I'm doin' now.

~ ~ ~ ~

I feel for any lover I've had in my life. They either become a True Confessions story or a character in a fictional piece. Or both! You can just bet...if we've been intimate, you'll show up somewhere in my words.

~ ~ ~ ~

I'm thinking of getting my old aquarium back up and running. Had a small tank of pretty tiger barbs but I think my mom and William over-fed them in 2001. This time I'll get some angel fish. They are gentle and can be trained for finger feeding.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Deep Throat... when I first saw the article title on yahoo, I thought it was about the movie. But no, it's about the Nixon stuff. The guy's like 91...so I guess it's safe to reveal who he is. Like some Nixon fanatic is going to gun for an old geezer.

Back to the movie... If you haven't seen it...don't watch it after a Peter Horn or Nina Hartley or Jenna Jamison movie... it will be a major letdown...believe me.

~ ~ ~ ~

To clear up a controversy... I have reached inside male stripper thongs to place $$$ in them. Not to do any searching for tissue. Yes, my fingers lingered and if there was any hair there I could claim that my rings got tangled up in 'blue'.... Dammit, now I've broken Rule # 1... heads will roll, heads will...roll.

~ ~ ~ ~
It's almost 5 and tonight is Tuesday... and I'm off to shop after work... time to start zapping dots again.

Deep Throat

I thought they meant the movie...

Deep Throat

Insensitive (Lyrics)

Sung By Jann Arden

How do you cool your lips,
after a summer's kiss?
How do you rid the sweat,
after the body bliss?
How do you turn your eyes,
from the romantic glare?
How do you block the sound of a voice,
you'd know anywhere?

Oh, I really should have known by the time you drove me home,
by the vagueness in your eyes, casual good-byes,
by the chill in your embrace, the expression on your face
that told me you might have
some advice to give, on how to be
insensitive.

How do you numb your skin,
after the warmest touch?
How do you slow your blood,
after the body rush?
How do you free your soul,
after you've found a friend?
How do you teach your heart,
its a crime to fall in love again?

Oh, you probably won't remember me,
its probably ancient history.
I'm one of the chosen few
who went ahead and fell for you.
I'm out of vogue, I'm out of touch,
I fell too fast, I feel too much.
I thought that you might have
some advice to give, on how to be
insensitive.

~ ~ ~ ~
The song I sing when I do karaoke...which isn't often. :D

Scary Sherrie Stories

Dena called this morning with another "Scary Shere Story" from Saturday night.

That's what she and Cricket are calling them. "Scary Shere Stories."

I remember more than they give me credit for (at least of the male stripper show...it's the details afterwards that I am fuzzy on) .....and the person in the the story she told me this morning wasn't ME... it was one of the other girls. I told them that some of the guys stuff their thongs with tissue. After 4 'tongues in her panty' shots, she decided to go fishing to see if it was true. She was the one with the balls...not me! She didn't find any stuffing. When Dena told me I went tissue searching, I lied and said, "Oh I remember that.. I pulled the tissue out and stuffed my bra with it."

Dena said, "yea you did. I forgot about that."

In actuality I was the calm cool one during the show. But I'll take credit for the tissue search though... because tall tales are the stuff legends are made of...I'm becoming a legend among the Hens.

"Scary Shere"

Etch-a-Stetch

I am continuously amazed at the things my nephews think I can accomplish.
Yesterday afternoon, William and Ben came over for a while. Ben was playing with his toy cars
and William was in a different room. I was watching Sponge Bob Squarepants. He thought his boss Mr. Krabs was a robot, after watching a show on tv the night before about robots. I was laughing at it because it was so predictable, but still funny.

William sat beside me on the couch and handed me the mini etch-a-sketch. "Here Aunt Sherrie. I need you to draw a race car like the little rascals. Draw Spanky driving it and Alfafa on the hood hanging on. Don't forget the trophy. A big one. Make it big."

He sat there, looking at me. I looked at the etch-a-sketch and then back at him. I guess he thought I couldn't understand his "need", so he repeated it.

I said, "Silly, I can't draw all that on here. Get me a pencil and some paper."

He started nodding his head, "yes you can. Do it."

Well, I've never tried to actually draw something on one of them before. I gave it my best shot while he gave directions. "Don't make the wheels square. They're ROUND."

After I turned the knobs a million times in every direction possible. I handed the etch-a-sketch back to William. He said, "WOW...Thanks" and ran off. I heard him calling to my brother, "Uncle John, Uncle John...look what Aunt Sherrie drew... the little rascals."

Maybe I can accomplish anything when the expectations aren't for perfection. And the requesting party is an expert at the art of imagination.

Rain

It's coming down in buckets today. Kind of has me in a funk! I've been working away at a restoration job and it's coming along nicely. I think I'm on auto-pilot today.

Sort of sleepy. Someone called at 6:30 this morning. Wrong number. I'm always nervous after late night or early morning calls. Always think the worst when the phone rings like that.

I like to say my life is an open book--that I can write about it openly and not care what anyone things. Today I realize that's a crock of shit. I do care what others think and I'm finding there are some things I can't write about. I don't know how to find the words right now.

Time seems to be a friend to me. What I can't write about today, well, I might not be able to write about tomorrow, but I do know this...in time I will be able too write it out. And no matter what I'm going through today, I know that in time I'll be able to cleanse it.

Hens ? Night Out!

The plan was for me to be the designated driver Saturday night. Last time I went, I drove Dena's car, since my truck won't hold but 3 people. As I was almost ready to leave, she called and said that instead of 4 women, we now had 6. So her friend Cricket (that's her real name) was driving her brother's van. They would pick me up at 7:30. Then she informed me that everyone was wearing skirts and tank tops. I laughed. Not this honey! No way was I going to wear a skirt and have some male stripper bending me over a table and pulling up my skirt to spank my ass while he humped me. (I saw it happen a few times to some unsuspecting women and it wasn't a pretty sight).

I had on low rise jeans, a hip scarf with gold sequins and coins, an off-the-shoulder pink top and sandals.

Didn't know the other girls very well. But one great thing about male revue shows is the bonds they help create. By the end of the night, we were tight.

Wendy--the one celebrating her divorce, kept calling us "Hens." It's "Hens' Night Out." "Look out Peckers, the hens are here." Personally I prefer being called a Chick. Sure we were all over 35 and I was the oldest, but Hens!!!! Not me!

I won't go into all the dirty sordid details. Ok, I would but I don't remember them all. Since I wasn't driving I had a few extra drinks... Cosmopolitans. Now listen up...they are mild going down, kinda like punch. And that's what they pack--a potent punch. And they work great on inhibitions...like killing them.

We got there really early and with a lot of flirting we managed to get the manager of the club to move a table reservation to the second row and give us the ring side table. Cleavage and the hint of more to 'cum' can even give some 'hens' advantage.

The virgin--Marcy sat beside me. As we had our first rounds of drinks, Dena asked me to explain the rules of Revue to her.

1-- A Male Revue show is equivelant to Vegas---Everything stays there!

2--If you bring it they will cum.... money. Especially if you flaunt it! Lay it on the table, so they can see it from the stage. I promise you that you'll have plenty of thonged dick in your face.

3--Be prepared for the hot seat. (A chair they put on stage after each dance, so you can seat in it and let them use you as a humping cushion). The hot seat is a chance for the dancers to show the audience just how freaky they can get. I've seen women lifted --chair too and spun around into a 69 position. I've seen panties exposed, breasts flopping out of tops.... Once you get in that seat, babe you're a target.

4--The dancers are there to make money. Don't think for one second that because one keeps coming over to dance for you that you've found Mr. Charming. Enjoy the attention but remember... it's no fairy tale.

5--If you really want special attention, put your money between your teeth. The dancers will know you're a virgin and will make sure you get a good show.

Ok... the last one is a lie. I get them every time with it. In fact, I have a picture of one of the virgins of old doing it. And did this one fall for it? Oh yea..lol

I'll say this about the show. It was fun. I bet one of the girls that if I put my dollars in my cleavage that the dancers would use their teeth to get them. After getting slobbered on a few times, I regretted that bet.

I would write more about the show but due to rule #1, I can't.

At midnight, they let the guys in. A ton of young military guys....who made a bee line for the restrooms. I think all the clucking hens made them nervous. I don't remember much after midnight...it's all scattered fragments.

I do remember dancing a lot--by myself. Dena said we were sitting around, laughing about the show and the stuff we did, when I suddenly stood up and said, "I'm going to dance." Then proceeded to the dance floor and started groovin' to the beat. It was hip hop dance stuff. And I let the music take me where it needed too. My hips were sore yesterday. Dena said I soon had some guys dancing around me, probably drawn to the gyrating hips as I circled them down and then back up. I remember doing that. I don't remember a guy trying to hump my leg or the crushing hip bump I employed that sent him back a few feet.

After the night was over, the hens were hungry for IHOP and ignored my protests to go home. We got in at 4 or so. I was exhausted. And slept late yesterday. No hangover. I'm happy about that. I think dancing helped move the alcohol through my system.

On the kitchen table were the content of my jeans pockets--a lipstick, some dollar bills that escaped the strings of thongs and napkins with the cell phone #'s of some GI's who were young enough to be my sons. Those I tossed away. Ha...a hen? Yea right!

Shiny Objects

I'm easily distracted tonight by them! Where are my fuckin' blinders? Ah... here they are! There...now I'm focused.

Friday was weird in a way... I felt calm. Nothing rattled me. Not even an irate customer who was the drama queen of the year. While she ranted at me...about something that was fixable, I didn't feel anything. I let her run on, jammering away at me until she finally stuttered to a stop. Then I handled the situation. Never once getting cross or letting my voice rise! How the hell did I do that???? This was a case where the customer actually is WRONG.

I was like that Friday night. My friend Doug and I went to dinner... San Jose's again. Though it was the other location. Conversation was mainly on movies--his taste runs towards teen movies or chick flicks... Or his daughter and his fear of putting her in a public school this fall. We ran out of things to talk about. Suddenly he asked for my opinion on Jeffrey McDonald...the man who killed his family in 69 or 70. Strange that he would ask that. I haven't thought much about that man in a few years. But I gave my opinion. Sometimes I think I scare him a little. Lately every time we get together, I feel our age difference more and more. 11 years isn't a lot to some people, but when the maturity levels don't bridge the ages... there is dissatisfaction.

Saturday I worked until 4. A family friend stopped in and we talked for 2 hours! Dad had to go to an out-of-town wedding, so I was alone there. Had to rush to the grocery store before getting home to get ready for the Strippers. What was weird ... hmm...using that word alot in this post... was I saw the same man I keep seeing at the Post Office... he's an ankle tanner....

An ankle tanner is a man whose feet and ankles are tan. You can spot them because they wear shorts or pants with sockless loafers. Even in the winter.

I almost ran him over with my shopping cart. The grocery store I stopped at isn't one I'm familiar with. Where things should be...well, they weren't! I went around that store with my head chopped off. The aisles were so narrow that only one cart at a time was allowed. It dawned on me that the grocery store was really a one-way store and I was going in the wrong direction.

When I realized it was the Ankle Tanner I almost squashed flat with my cart, I stopped and acknowledged him with my eyebrow salute. He stepped aside and I continued to fly. It wasn't until I was stuck behind a display of Red-White-and-Blue paper plates that it came to me that he was about to say something to me. But my raised eyebrows stopped him. They're shapely and arched. Hmmm...maybe he doesn't read eyebrows.

Some Friendships never Die

It started Friday not long after I got to work... I was sitting at the computer, checking for spyware with one of the programs I use. I thought "I'll call Dan while that's scanning." Even went as far as getting up and walking halfway towards the phone.

Dan died Dec 15, 2002. I froze in place, fighting the sense of loss that is still so raw at times. He was my dear friend. We talked often and there were no secrets between us. He knew my bad times, I knew his. We shared a lot in all the years we knew each other. It was a friendship that was part attraction, but we knew that if we moved to 'that' level, it would be hard to go back if things didn't work out. I've always been glad we never did.

Then it happened again yesterday, as I got ready to go out. Found myself at the phone. The urge to call so strong. I had to fight it again. For a while I was draped in melancholoy, knowing I couldn't call.

And this evening... I got up from a short nap, thinking about Dan. Even as I write I am overwhelmed with a sadness that is indescribable. I miss him.

He once told me that "Life can be a hard road. It is good to have friends."

It's a motto that I live by. I will say this... our friendship was so strong that the pull of it still has me picking up the phone to call him today.

TGIF

I don't know why I wrote TGIF... I have to work tomorrow. So it's not really the end of my work week.

The Alive after 5 had a great turnout yesterday. There were some NASCAR cars ...can't remember who... and a Dale Earnhart Jr lookalike who had a bunch of people fooled. I heard some girls squeal "It's Little E...it's Little E." I walked through the crowd before going home. Didn't take any photos because I forgot to put in fresh batteries.

```````````````````
My brother and I had a nice dinner at the San Jose restaurant. Got our favorite waiter. Didn't see the cute young one who always makes an effort to flirt with me...not until we were out the door. I stood waiting for my brother who was telling me something. With my peripheal vision, I could see a pale yellow shirt pressed against the window by the door. So I turned to look to see what was going on and it was the cutie pie.... waving at me with a big grin on his face. I looked at my brother and said something out of character to him...

"I could have some of that if I wanted it."

He was so shocked that I thought he was going to fall off his crutches. " I don't want to hear that. I don't need to hear that. I can't believe you said that. I'm calling Grandmother when we get home. She's not too old to spank you."

"Yea... and he's old enough to spank me." I mummered and he didn't hear that part. I took pity on him and changed the subject.

```````````````

Have a date tonight...dinner and that's it. No dessert. Tomorrow I work til 4...and after that it's Male Stripper Night. I'm going with Dena and some of her friends. One of them just got a divorce. She wants to celebrate. I guess oily nearly naked guys tapping your forehead with tissue-stuffed thongs is a groovy way to do that. One of the girls hasn't ever been to a show. They are always fun to go with--the virgins. But the best women to go to these shows with are the married ones. They really let loose and enjoy the guys. I'm sure I'll have a fun story or two to write about later. Keep singing "it's raining men." Trying to get in the mood...lol... as if naked guys dancing on my lap won't do it...lol...

```````````````````````

So far today isn't so bad. (Knocking on wood)...Jo said my yesterday went so badly because my Tuesday was so happy. She's got a point. I guess my Libra side had to find its balance again. Too bad it stirred up my Scorpio side.

Cool Site of the Day

Don't Drink

My Last Post for Today

My earlobes are unhappy today.
No findee the lost earring, tho I lookee lots.


When I got home from dance, last night. I bet I combed my yard 3 times...got on my hands and knees on the carpet at home and finger-combed it. No luck.

Mom was there with the boys, doing some chores for me. Ben and I looked but we didn't find it. William insisted I take some time to dance, so we put in a CD of the Wiggles and danced away.

Mom told me that Ben had told his daycare teacher that I was coming to get him and when I did I would pull her ears off. He didn't want to do whatever it was that she wanted him to do and I guess his way of threatening her was to sic me on her. I had to laugh at that. I tell both kids that if they don't do 'whatever' that I'll pull their ears off.

Anyway...of track some how..sorry... Lisa came and got the kids. Mom stayed a while and we did some laundry together, chatting and gossiping. While she was there I pulled out my jewelry boxes. I have one large one and 3 small ones. The large one is for notes, memoribilia, watches, etc. The others are for earrings, bracelets and gold chains. I try to keep them separate. 90% of the items are from old flames.

I found the earring box and looked through them. I have more than I need. None were what I wanted to wear today. But I chose a pair close to the style I lost. Mom suggested I take all the gold I don't want and have it melted and some charms made for a bracelet. A good idea!

I found my old engagement ring. I wore it from 90 to 93. A pretty ring with a 5-diamond cluster. On a whim, I put it on. It felt weird in a strangling my finger way. Looking at it on my finger seemed so foreign, like it wasn't my finger anymore.

There was no emotional response. I had no more ties to the ring. It meant as much to me as a toy ring from a cracker jack box. Dimly I can remember how much I loved that ring and what it represented to me once--it held so much promise...but now, the only thing it holds is a faint glint of sparkle caused by lighting, not by love.

It is time to do something with this ring. It's been 12 years since I took it off my finger. And it's the remaining item I have from the Charles G days. Maybe I will take it to the pawn shop. Maybe I will have the cluster turned into a pendent...or maybe I will sell it on Ebay. I don't know... I just know it's time to clear out the jewelry box.

A Reason Eye Candy Shouldn't be taken For Granted

Monday I wrote about Eye Candy and how it worked across the street from the studio at the new Shoe Store.

Little did I know that the Eye Candy was a career criminal.

He comes from a family of drug dealers. In fact his sisters were in my grade or near my grade in school. We rode the same bus. His brother was in the same grade as my brother. I remember the E C (Eye Candy) but only as a 4 yr old who threw rocks at the bus when it stopped to pick up or drop off his siblings. His father is a handsome man with a slick personality who has been involved in many con-type activities but always managed to avoid jail time.

Not his sons... both have been in and out of jail for things like drug trafficking and breaking & entering. They don't have the intelligence that their dad possesses, but they do have his handsome looks and fashion sense. I haven't seen them since the 70's. But I do occasionally see the sisters--both have married good men and live clean lives.

Mr. M, the owner of the Shoe Store is an elderly foreign guy who not only repairs shoes, but makes them as well. If you describe what type of shoe you envision on your foot, he can create it. Allegedly he's made shoes for the stars in Hollywood. He's a nice man but too trusting. He doesn't always understand what some one is telling him, and comes over often to ask me or dad to explain a letter he's received or a phrase he heard.

The Eye Candy just got out of prison. He spent a few years incarcerated for having a minor role in a big drug bust over in a town near-by. My brother says that he watched the news reports of it on TV when it went down and he saw the police bringing people out of the house and there was the Eye Candy, waving at the crowd.

The Eye Candy went over to the shoe store last week and told Mr. M that he always dreamed of repairing shoes and making them. That he wanted to learn an old and honest craft, something that few in the area knew how to do. Mr. M was impressed by him. Told the EC that he would teach him all he knew for 6 weeks and if he listened and learned and could do the job on his own; that he would give EC a regular job. The only BUT in the whole deal was that EC wouldn't get paid during his training. EC agreed and started work Monday.

Mr. M didn't do any sort of paper work on the EC. No application was filled out, no forms for tax purposes..nothing. After all, the young man wasn't officially hired. He might not even work out. So why bother?

After 2 days of work, EC impressed Mr. M enough for Mr. M to drive him over to F-ville where his other shop was and show him the store there and also where he lived. When they got back to town yesterday early evening (after all the surrounding stores were closed), EC stole Mr. M's keys to both stores and his home, took his phones and his cash and proceeded to escape in Mr. M's own truck. Poor Mr. M was stranded outside his store for a while. Luckily it was Church night and one of the members of the church beside the studio called the police for Mr. M.

He had no name or telephone to give the police. Distraught, he couldn't even remember much.

If a smarter person had created this plan and carried it out, it would have been perfect. No one would have known who the guy was. All he had to do was keep a low profile, gain Mr. M's trust and strike when the timing was right.

Not this guy... he had to go to several shops whose owners or employees knew of him and his jail record to perform a song and dance about being saved by Jesus and starting a new life as a shoe-maker. He even quoted Bible verses to them.

So come this morning, Mr. M goes to some of the stores on our street, he has several who not only tell him who the guy was but also give Mr. M his address. The Police are looking for him now.

What gets my goat is that after talking to several people who work downtown about what happened to Mr. M, they all said, "I don't know why he hired that guy. He's a thief. I wouldn't have hired him." Why didn't they warn Mr. M? If I had of known who that guy was (remember I haven't seen him since he was about 4 or 5), I would have told Mr. M to keep an eye out on him and Dad and I would have kept tabs on the store.

Mr. M is not from around here. He's a kind and honest man and he doesn't know who's to be trusted and who's out to take you to the cleaners. All it would have taken was a whispered warning and all of this would have been avoided.

Man..

a crazy day so far.

First couldn't get into any mail acct at home due to cookie restrictions. Had to reset all my Internet Options. Don't know how they got out of wack.

Got to work to chaos. Mainly something Dad didn't do and also something he forgot to do.

Then found out the Eye Candy is really a career criminal (blog post to follow)

and then I spent 2 hours trying to get rid of malware that not only closed out my browser every time I clicked to get online but also closed out my photo programs and any non-internet file I clicked on. It took 4 scans from Ad-adware and 2 scans from Spybot plus I had to reboot 3 times before I got rid of it all.

I feel as if I won't get anything productive done today. On top of it all, I thought it was Friday! Even wrote out some receipts with tomorrow's date on them. One of my cheery elderly customers corrected me. I said, "You mean I have to do this again tomorrow??? Well, Sir...Thanks for making my Friday longer. " (Luckily he has a sense of humor)...

So that is how my Thursday's going. This afternoon we have the Alive at Five on the plaza. I hope to take a few photos. When I get home, I promised my brother we would go to San Jose...not the city but the Mexican Restaurant in town.

Maybe... by then it will feel like Thursday and not Turdsday.

A Scattered-Brain kinda Day

I had a fab yesterday. Evening was fab, too. Even was able to fall asleep without trouble. Woke up before the shrill voice of Sheri and Bob could startle me.

I lay in bed for a while, all cozy and not minding that the rooster was crowing his little heart out. Then I began to remember the dream I had before waking... it was about my upcoming Class reunion in 2006. We were having it at the old Carolina Civic Center. I kept calling one guy by the wrong name. He had a gold earring in his right lobe and it threw me off. This guy never wore earrings. He used to say that they were for 'fags.' Anyway, I was outside the CCC talking to someone when the building imploded and everyone I disliked in school were still inside. Wow... I stood there with my mouth open, thinking...that had to hurt.

So as I lay in bed, thinking about this...Bob and Sheri came on the radio. I cut off Sheri in mid-sentence. She's very domineering. Poor Bob...bet he's got a leash around his neck. Anyway... I got up, got a shower and instead of my usual cup of coffee I had a glass of milk. Read the paper while I drank it.

Granny had driven down yesterday afternoon to spend the night because she had a doc appt to get the stitches out from when she had some moles removed last week. Her appt was for 9 am. She got back while I was getting dressed. Told me 2 times what the doctor said. Had me examine the incisions which were very thin and healing nicely.

Suddenly, she stopped talking and said, "Curlers? Curlers. Yes those are curlers in your head." And started laughing. "You're sitting here with curlers in your head."

I got up to look at myself in the mirror, because Granny isn't one for spontaneous laughter. Now I'm all thrown off balance by her apparent amusement. But I didn't look silly--no more than any woman wearing them does. I walked back into the kitchen and retorted, "I'm trying to get a signal from Mars."

Went back into the bathroom and started taking them out (it was getting late and I needed to finish my hair and daytime face). Granny followed me. "You're taking them out?" She asked.

"Yeppers..it's not working." I was referring to the signal to Mars concept.

She said, "At least your hair's going in the right direction now."

Man...what was this... Comic Granny Day.

I put on one of my Bohemian skirts with a long tank top and a cool loopy belt. Buckled my sandals on my bare feet. Was gathering up my jewelry (my two pinky rings and my gold hoops), when Granny said, "You're going to freeze out there. It's cold. Feel my hands."

I did and they were cold. She said a few more comments and I thought. Man, I don't want to freeze at work. My nipples will break off. So I changed into a long sleeve blouse and a pair of jeans. Removed the sandals and grabbed my loafers. As I was walking out the door, Granny said, "Wear a light jacket." I listened and wore a denim jacket.

The walk to the truck was chilly. But the walk to work once I parked the truck wasn't. The oldies 96.5 DJ said it was 70 degrees out. In fact, I looked silly in a jacket. I've hung the coat up and know that I will forget it later. All day I've mused over how easily my dear 80-yr-old grandmother persuaded me to listen to her, when I know that just because she's cold doesn't mean that it's cold outside. Hell, she's cold when it's 99.

Maybe I have a low resistance level before 11 am. Maybe that's why her persuasion worked. Whatever the reason, today I've been a blonde in a non-blonde body. Wandering around with just one earring on...I've lost a hoop. I'm hoping it's at home. It's one of my favorites.

Familiar Ground

Once again we are on familiar ground;
the taste of butterscotch and rum now stale...
the afterglow lost in a battleground.

In silence that shouts volumes, I exhale.
My breath echoes across your vacant face.
No room for emotional blackmail.

Do you remember my dress of white lace?
And the day we both promised forever?
If we admit defeat is it disgrace?

We lie to ourselves, aren't we so clever?
Time has changed us but we refuse to see
that we should end this loveless endeavor.

You and I, we so love our bitter sea.
We'll drown and ignore the chance to be free.

~~~~
A writing exercise and nothing more. But there are times when I think about how life would have been if I had stuck with Allen and ended up married to him. I believe that we both would have drowned in a bitter sea.

"tenderly"

your own expression

of how life

should treat you

I say be like the turtle

and grow a thick shell

Mr. T

Time to come out of the T closet...


I have a fascination for him! It started with the Rocky Movie. Then the DC Cab movie...then the A-team. I loved the A-team. Watching it now ...seems so hokey but, Mr. T...well like I said, he fascinates me.

Then he was doing some commericals for television a year or few ago. I loved watching them.

Why does he fascinate me? I think its the fact his neck can hold 100 pounds of gold chains without getting a curve in it. And all his other jewelry... earrings, knuckle rings, etc...all look so cool on him...Or it could be the 'I pity the po' fool..." line that I stole for a while.

I once dated a guy for 3 months because he could do a wicked Mr. T impression. There wasn't any other aspect about him that I found appealing.

Jeri my ex-roommate after college, moved to Des Moines in the early 90's. She's now a nursing administrator for one of the hospitals there. But in the 90's, she was an pediatric ICU nurse. Mr. T surprised the children's ward one day with a visit. Jeri got me an autographed photo. She told him that she knew a little girl who was a little mentally off but the little girl 'Sherrie' loved Mr. T. You know, when she told me this...I was so excited that I didn't get offended about the "mentally off comment."

...Mr. T.... autographed a photo to ME...

Oh but the thrill was short-lived.... Jeri forgot it and left it in a drawer at the nurses' station. When she went in the next day it was gone.

I'm like...why even TELL me. If I were a hoo doo--voo doo type of woman, I would have put a hex on whoever took it.

So there...one of my secrets is out. I adore Mr. T.

Here's a fun site that shows his playful side. You need speakers to hear it. And give it a moment or 2 to download...its worth the visit.

Mr T Takes A Drive

Green Apples

green apples
I love their tart taste
on your lips
as we kiss

life tries to give me lemons
kiss me often, love

Raining Men

I keep hearing a song in my head... "It's raining men by the Weather Girls"... let me find the lyrics.

One Hit Wonders Lyrics
The Weather Girls
It's Raining Men Lyrics
Hi - Hi! We're your Weather Girls -
Ah-huh -And have we got news for you -
You better listen!
Get ready, all you lonely girls
and leave those umbrellas at home.

- Alright! -Humidity is rising -
Barometer's getting low
According to all sources, the street's the place to go
Cause tonight for the first time
Just about half-past ten
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining men.

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! -
It's Raining Men! Amen!
I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get
Absolutely soaking wet!

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah!
It's Raining Men! Every Specimen!
Tall, blonde, dark and lean
Rough and tough and strong and mean

God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too
She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do
She taught every angel to rearrange the sky
So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah!
- It's Raining Men! Amen!
It's Raining Men! Hallelujah!
It's Raining Men! Ame---------nnnn!

I feel stormy weather / Moving in about to begin
Hear the thunder / Don't you lose your head

Rip off the roof and stay in bed

God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too
She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do
She taught every angel to rearrange the sky
So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy

It's Raining Men! Yeah!
Humidity is rising - Barometer's getting low
According to all sources, the street's the place to go
Cause tonight for the first time
Just about half-past ten
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining men.
It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men! Amen!
It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men!

~ ~~ ~ ~~~~~~~~
Well, ladies..it's raining here but from what I can tell... it's raining thongs. I guess the angels couldn't part with the hotties. lol (Just kidding)
I was thinking... what if it did rain men for like a week...steady rain--the kind that's un relenting. I think after a couple of days ...I would say...enough already...then call the roofer and get it repaired... Pray for the rain to stop.

To Mayor Bill

Hi Bill... browsed your blog today. Really cool reading.
Almost replied to one of them but realized that it might not be a good idea if a 'Painted Lady' leaves lipstick on your collar. lol

My Guest Book

I have a guest book on my website. Before I renovated it, I had a section on Tarot. I guess when you do a Tarot search, it still pops up. I haven't deleted the pages. But they aren't linked to the main page anymore. Anyway, someone signed my guest book this week and asked a very interesting question. I'll post it and my answer.

I have a question if you dont mind answering... For the Yes/No questions and using the Major Arcana Cards..what would picking the Death card mean? Please email me at my email address above and let me know. Thanks, Kathy

My answer

If I pulled the Death card for a Y/N question, I would think twice about doing whatever the question asked... Death means sudden change. It's change of a large scale. Life changing change. If you act, what changes will insure and are they worth it? And if you don't act, what changes will occur that will be damaging to not changing? I know... it sounds redundant but the Yes/No question is always hard to do with one card.

Have you ever used this spread before? a 5 Arcana card reading... mix them up so some of the cards are reversed. Cut them and then pull 5 cards. 3 uprights mean Yes.. 3 reversals mean No.

~ ~ ~ ~

I haven't read my cards since the reading I did for dear sweet Sarah Hb. But immediately I knew what to tell this lady.

When I first started reading the cards, I sought answers to questions in my heart with one card Yes/No readings. I so wanted answers that were direct and precise, especially in my favor. But that's not how life works--not when it comes to matters of the heart. And too if the cards answered every question, I knew I would be dependent on them for every move.

So I stopped doing them. Mainly because there is no one answer to any situation. Usually there are multi choices with their own consequences. I don't read my cards like I once did. I sought solice in them and was rewarded with peace most of the time. We make our own choices. We direct our own fate with the choices we make. If it's a bad choice, there's a lesson to be learned that we need to learn, even if during the lesson we don't understand why... we go through it for a purpose.

Good choices, bad choices.... they are choices. What if we didn't have that option?

SO far SO Good...

...today is!

But it's not over.

Couldn't sleep last night. I think it was because I had tea after 7. I usually drink water with a twist of lime, but last night I wanted something with more substance...a shot of Jack Daniels was out. The nephews were with me.

I got them to bed and couldn't sleep. Got up...blogged a bit. Went back to bed. Couldn't sleep. Wrote some poetry (left the paper home..shame on me). Couldn't sleep. Listen to The Merrick Audio book by Anne Rice. Got pissed because on two really important parts the stupid thing stuck...Grr grrrr grrrrr attttttteeeee ateeeee ee eee eeeeeeeee. That's how it sounded. I waded through it and realized I would have to buy the book afterall because I missed a scene that explained part of the ending. Hmmmm I could go the book store and read it there.

Finally I fell asleep after 4. But what sleep I got was restful. The nephews woke me up at 7 and I hurried them home. Came back and took an hour nap. Got to work early to see if Dad had mounted and sprayed a portrait for me... he hadn't so I had to do it. Smell like photo laquer now. The odor is strong and I hope it doesn't make me sick. But I had to have the photo ready by noon. In fact, the lady picked it up a while ago and loved it.

I was sitting at the desk at 10:45, when in walked a skinny little elderly black man with the kindest face. His name is Mr. Blackmon and he had an old photo of himself--he was a handsome young man in his youth. Had a Gangsta look that none of the Gangsta rappers of today can ever achieve. We began to talk and he mentioned the area I grew up in....and guess what? He knew my maternal Great-grandfather and his brothers... Willie Wilcox, my Great-Granddad was a 'rounder,' he loved the ladies and moonshine. In fact, Mr. Blackmon also knew my paternal Great-Granddad too, "Pappa Johnson." I was so amazed. Mr. Blackmon ran a still back in those days--supplying many people with corn whiskey, including the sheriff of the time. I was so intrigued to hear about the old homestead and how my ancestors ruled the area with a kind hand, even if most of them loved their women and their moonshine. I was very sad to see Mr. Blackmon go. I wanted to hear more about my Great-Granddad Willie and his adventures, but duty called. I plan to make sure that my calendar is clear when Mr. Blackmon comes to pick up his restoration order. I hunger for more of my history.

Circa 1920... There was a huge fire downtown in the early 1900's... they had to rebuild the whole block. As you can see WC's store is being built...ours is beside it..already finished. Our building is called the Carlyle building. An NC sentor's daughter owns it.

A shot of Downtown L'ton..corner of 3rd street and Elm. The first building on the right is WC's men's store...ours is the next..you can see part of the heart at the top of the building. The KC is Kodak Capitol. NOtice we are without an awning... its due to it almost falling off during a hurricane. The landlord removed it and then had a feud with the guy who fixes them...so we're without an awning. The pinky store beside us is now a church. See the black windows over the top of our store? The top floor is haunted. I once saw a shadow moving across them as I was leaving one afternoon.. the sun sets behind the buildings across the street, so I know it wasn't a reflection or shadow due to light.

Nobody here but us Chickens!

The infamous chickens! Four have managed to escape...hence the cover over the top. I asked Sterling, my neighbor if he knew chickens could do short bursts of flying. He didn't and thus lost 4 of them. He asked if I would keep a look out for them. He gave a thorough description of the four that escaped. I asked if he wanted me to do a composit drawing and post it in the neighborhood...asking if anyone's seen these chickens. The coop was closer to my side of the house...this is the rear end of his outside building...I took the picture as I drove by this morning. There are two really scrawny chickens on top of the coop. I don't think the rooster and this hen were as large as they are now...hmmm...I wonder if they ate the others... personally I love a good cock. lol..oh man that was sooooo bad.

Am I a true poet?

Some online poets I know are learning poems to recite--mainly other poets and are buying lots of poetry books to read--the old poets and the ones of today. I wonder if I am a true poet. Because I don't care to learn poems. I think if I need to learn a poem, it should be some of my own, so that I can recite them to people when I want to impress them. I read some poetry, like Neruda and a few others that I own. But the urge to go out and read all these new poets...well I don't have it. How can I be a good poet, if I don't want to read what's out there today????? To use poetry by others as a tool to improve my own work???

It's not that I don't read poetry other than my own...I do. And I enjoy what I read most of the time but.... the drive to be a professional poet who knows more about poetry than most text books do... it's not there.

Maybe that's why at heart I'm a writer. I do read and have a thirst for a good story. And I learn from what I read--style and presentation...what works as plots and the importance of timing... One thing I've learnt since I started listening to Audio Books is how a book sounds read aloud. Is there awkward sentencing? Does the dialogue sound normal?

Yes, I may not be a true poet but I know in my heart I'm a writer. And I can live with being that.

Oh yea

It's definately Monday! Crazy salesmen, loopy customers and... hair that's rebelling...

To top it off, Mary my best-friend called to say hi and she said, "Hey Sher, just think...5 months from today, you'll be 43!"

William

I know this may sound crazy or may be oversharing. I've been sitting here trying to figure out how to write this. It's good news but to you guys it might not mean much. Too me and my family it means more than a bag of gold.

As you know, William is austic. We work with him and he's improved much over the year. He's no longer in the special needs class. He's in a regular kindergarten class --that is if he's not calling people "monky butt." He can read some. I firmly believe he has a photographic memory. But he's still has social problems, such as organized games and mingling. He has a severe case of tunnelvision. That means he focuses on what he's doing, such as playing on the PC or even staring off into space and no matter how loud you call his name or how many times you call him, he doesn't respond. Not even to loud handclaps. We have to take his face in our hand and force him to look at us and talk to him until he responds.

It is sad at times. My sister doesn't deal well with it. I have a wealth of patience. I think that's why he and I have such a tight rapport.

One of the problems many austic children face is the concept of potty training. William can 'pee' in the potty but the other part... well you get what I mean... he learned to hold it in from when he was around 2 I think. We've been battling with him fighting the bowel movement urge. It's frustrating. We put him on the potty and tell him to use it. I won't go into the details of what we go through. It's not pleasant reading.

For the last year, we've been concerned that he won't ever learn. One lady at the Austism meetings my sister goes to, told her that her son didn't learn until he was in the 5th grade--that one day he went by himself. I feared that the kids at school would figure it out--when William had messy pants and would start to tease him

I heard Mom talking to him Saturday morning about using the potty. Ben was in hearing distance. A few minutes later I heard him telling William, " it don't hurt if it's little...it hurt if its big."

Sunday Lisa called all happy. "Guess what?" She said. "Willim used the potty. Three times yesterday and today he's done it 4 times. I couldn't find him yesterday afternoon and Ben said he was on the potty. I looked in my bathroom and William was standing by the toliet, saying "Look Mommy I poo pooed in the potty."

I cried with happiness. I'm tearing up now. He caught on to the concept and I can't help but wonder if maybe his Little Brother wasn't the reason.

Goddess of Eye Candy

There is a Goddess of Eye Candy!!! Hey some eye candy is now working directly across the street at the new shoe store. I passed him this morning on the way for coffee. I thought... now that's more like it. A hottie in a white golf shirt and khaki chinos. What I usually pass on the street is usually an old guy or a redneck who was just down at the courthouse fighting with his 'baby's mamma' over child support. The Eye Candy smiled and said 'Hello.' I know I had a big grin on my face. He looked amused. I don't care. I'm estactic. So I'll now fall on knees and fervently whisper 'thankyouthankyouthankyou' to the Goddess of Eye Candy.

The Magnolia is Full of Bloom

The magnolia tree is full of blossom.
When it rains, the petals open to drink.
A small woodpecker beats a distant drum,
as the afternoon sky fades to pale pink.
Soon the moon will rise, a fake sugar plum.
A love sonnet I'll pen in purple ink,
inspired by black eyes absorbing light
and giving darkness to a cool spring night.

The moon goddess dreams of magnolia scent,
as fading sunlight filters through the tree.
From shadows you offer no comment,
watching as I write wistful poetry;
a self-proclaimed scriblerian's lament
about love, you and moonlight potpourri.
You stand as if caught in a spider's web.
Do not fear my words of love, Dark-eyed Reb.

They are inspired by your sublime kiss
and the way you gaze at me from shadows.
Like fragrance you inhale me, such sweet bliss!
Poetic words born within passion's throes
are written so that we can reminisce
on dismal gray days that hide the rainbows...
about how our love stole moonlight from night
and bathed fragrant petals in perfect light.

~ ~ ~
an Ottava Rima poem exercise

My Star Wars Name is....

My Star Wars name is:

Shebe Kelum

My Star Wars honorific name is:

Yrrthunderbird of Midol

Star Wars

May the Force Be with You.

And...

now...I'll do a Professor Dumbledore and give some words for Friday: "peppermint, asphalt and sneezing." (guess you have to be a Harry Potter READER to know what I mean.)

To think in another 12 days or so, we'll officially be in our 6th month of the year. Where has it gone? Time is flying so fast.

Man, I am sooo tired today. Dragging my rear on the floor tired. It's all rainy and nasty out, too.

Turned down a date for Sat night with a guy I casually dated a few years ago. Last time we went out, we had dinner. I sat at the table and listened to him talk about his work. All conversation had to be directed to him and his views on things. A shallow man with a shadowy mind! I sat thinking, "Come on...give me something... spark my mind...I need a brain orgasm." Got zip. Dribble Dribble Dribble... I hid my yawn yawn yawn behind my water glass.

I'm not looking for marriage or even a serious relationship... jeez...it's hard to find a great conversationalist...I shutter at the marriage/relationship prospects that are lurking in the wings. Phew...glad I like my own company.

Big debate at the studio... Dad wants to follow the other photographers in the area and go to complete Digital photography. I object. We're the last 'film' studio. Not everyone likes digital prints. We should work the film angle. No one else is doing it. Plus Dad's too old to start a new system. He reads books on digital photography but can't grasp the actual concepts of how it all works. He's armed with a little knowledge and that spells danger... He doesn't understand that a CD and DVD drive aren't the same. He doesn't understand the jpg file or how to download stuff. I could go on and on but... it exhausts me. Talking to him about it exhausts me... hey maybe that's why I'm tired.

The CSI finale kicked ass last night. I thought it was awesome. I actually cried at the end. Glad no one was watching it with me. The guy who plays Nick Stokes does a great job. He's not afraid to cry. I believe the 2 hours it was on were the fastest I've ever known while watching a show. That says a lot. I've seen 1 hour shows where I thought...man, will this never end? When you invest time in them, you feel obligated to watch all the way through.

Monkey Butts, Chickens and HollaGals

William was removed from his kindergarten class yesterday afternoon. Seems he called someone "Monkey Butt." When I asked him about it (trying not to laugh), he hid his face in his hands. It was all I could do not to laugh. My mom asked if he learned it from me. Nope. The only time I call him a name is when I greet him. I say "Hiya Cool Cat or Peace, Dawgie Dawg." And on those occasions, he cheats at Nintendo 64, I say "Cheater Cheater, Stinky Feeter."

Monkey Butt... not one of mine...but I just might use it the next time I need to insult someone.

~*~*~*~*~

Chickens. Yes Live ones are now a part of my neighbor's household. At first I thought there were only a few. But today as I drove by, I saw about 10 of them. Young ones...scrawny and chicken brothable. They look like they fell off a truck. I'm thinking by the weekend, a few will have made their escape and I'll be chasing chickens out of the yard. The rooster has a great cock-a-doodle. It woke me up at 5 am. Now I don't mind cock at 5 am...hell if I can get it to crow even better...but thin scrawny feathery ones...well, that's a whole other chicken bone.

~* ~ *~ *~* ~* ~

This morning I caught a few of the music videos on VH1 and MTV. The one that caught my eye was "HollaGirls" By Gwen somebody from the No Doubt group. What an annoying song! I'm looking for the Country Music version to come out soon "CollardGals."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The oldies station has a catch phrase. The first part grabs me and before they finish it my mind has rewritten the last part...so I can't tell you how the original sounds. Sorry but I have a strong mind and it won't listen to me half the time.... the beginning of the phrase is "Good time Odies, we pick you up"...I add..."And never let you down." I'll have to try and contain myself when I hear it again. See what they really say.

~*~*~~*~*~*~**~

A lemon donut and lemonade don't mix on the taste buds.

~*~*~*~*~

At my house, we make sweet iced tea. I have a pot just for brewing it. I bring the water with the sugar added to a boil, take the pot off the burner and then add the tea bags. Let them sit for a while and then transfer it all to our tea jug. Granny wanted something to do Tues morning, so I assigned her the task of brewing tea. She blew up the bags! They literally exploded. She wanted to take the strainer and get the tea leaves out. But heck, the tea was black as coal. No way would it taste right. I tossed it. She wasn't happy. I'm sure the tea pot wasn't either. How traumatic, it must have felt. Guess who made the second batch? Yep...I did. I may have to get CSI out here to figure out how the tea bags exploded.

~* ~ *~* ~* ~ *~* ~* ~

I've been wearing sandals to work this week. One of the lady merchants on my street was over at the bakery today. She was sitting at the little table, sipping a diet Sprite and listening to mine and Gail's conversation.

Gail: "what new, Sherrie?"
Me: "nothing. I have no new news. I am newsless in L'ton. Hmmm... maybe there's a made-for-television movie here."

The lady: "would you play yourself?"

Gail: "she better not. How would her daddy get along without her."
Me: (Not saying anthing...caught in the fantasy of being a star on Lifetime or the Hallmark Channel)
The lady: "I would offer one sugestion. Don't wear toe rings. They make your toes look short."

I have a toe ring on each foot.

Me: "Would bells be better?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Belly Dancing with Snakes?

I'm at a cross-road with my belly dancing.

I can continue to use it as a form of exercise or I can begin the task of refinement--of specializing in a certain style. Last week after our buns class was over (gotta have the booty, baby, if you're gonna shake, rattle and roll), Barbara our instructor pulled me aside and told me that I was at the fork in the belly dancing road...should I continue on this path or should I hone my skills.

Barbara is a sword dancer. She dances with a very sharp sword, made especially for dancers. I've seen her performances and there's no way I have enough discipline to learn how to dance with a sword on my head, or boobs or hips or legs or chin.... and so on. Nor would I do well with the cane. I can see me wholloping myself with it. ...

She suggested that I become a snake dancer. I laughed and said, "Those I know."
She replied, "Sherrie, I mean a reptile."

Oh... those I don't know. If I got a snake, my brother would move to California. He's that afraid of them...

So I guess I'll just be a Belly-dancercise girl.

Here's the old family Church that we had the reunion at...its called Smyrna Baptist Church.

Strangers without Candy

At the reunion, of all the children, there were mainly boys there. With two exceptions--a 3 yr-old girl and an 7 month baby girl. The little girl who told me her name was Leslie came up to me while I was at the dessert table slicing the chocolate cake I made. Out of all the desserts, my cake was the only one that had chocolate...all the rest were made of strawberries and whipped cream ( strawberry season is in full bloom). Anyway, the little girl tugged on shirt with her sticky little stawberry hand and asked "Where is the candy? Why don't nobody have candy there?"

I had to laugh. She asked a good question. I said, "I think the candy monster ate it while we were eating lunch." Then I offered her some cake.

Around that time, her grandmother--my mom's first cousin came over, grabbed her by the arm and said, "Leslie, don't talk to strangers. I'm not going to keep telling you that."

lmao...what the f.....
Hey, I didn't have candy!

The Day After....Sunday

Boy I'm tired today and a cranky poodle. I think I over-did it this weekend. Tried to take on too much. For all my ranting on Saturday, I ended up back at home as soon as I got off work. It's hard to shrug off responsibilities after a life-time of duty. I did most of the clean-up after the cookout, then most of the cooking Sat night and all of it Sunday morning. Got the tables and other stuff set up for the reunion and surprisingly, we had about 20 to show up that weren't expected too. A good crowd. We had fun and one of the other cousins volunteered to be in charge of it next year, if I would take care of securing the church and getting the place ready. I said SURE.

Granny's down until Thursday. She can't stay still for even 5 minutes. This morning, I had my cereal at the table as I read the morning paper and she kept coming over to peer into my bowl. I was spooning out the last of it and she took the bowl away before my spoon left it. One dirty dish and it was killing her. I left soon after. She doesn't mean any harm but it drives me nuts. Mom keeps saying that one day we'll wish she were there driving us nuts. I agree. And I do my best not to show irritation.

Had two quarters yesterday and gave one to Ben and tried to give the other to William. He said, "No thank you. I don't need it today." I gave it to Ben and told him to put it in William's "piggy" when they got home. William is a unique person. All the kids were outside playing with some beach ballss I brought after lunch, one of them landed in a deep ditch that separated the church property from a corn field. My brother-in-law and two of my younger macho cousins were debating on how to get the ball out. William goes to the edge of the woods and gets a long stick with a curve at the end and hits the bottom of the ball so it bouncing up and into the corn field. While the guys debated on who should jump across, William has already been there and back. I ran over and hugged him. "That's my smart boy." Out of three adult brains not one was as smart at problem-solving as an austic boy.

We're going to digital photo system in July. Film cameras will soon be a commodity of the past. It is hard to find professional processing labs now in our area. I wonder if Dad will be able to learn the digital system...he's a photo dinosaur. He's not PC savvy at all. He reads books and magazines and knows some digital jargon, but reading and actually comprehending are two different things. I imagine I'm in for more stress. Good thing I've got extra pockets.

A poem

This one's from a word prompt: figs, sun, cat-eyed sunglasses, blue ribbon and the last page of a love letter.


Somewhere in a Room

A spring sun kissed
the first bud of figs
outside a window,
the tree sheltering
a room from the light.

A pair of cat-eye sunglasses
sat on a bedside table,
waiting for the chance
to stretch across a face
and prowl.

On the vanity, curled
and ready to primp
lay a blue ribbon,
the kind made to keep
the secrets of hair.

And on the floor,
stained from tears
spilt like milk,
was the last page of
a love letter that
would never be sent.

Stealth Mode

Today's Horrorscope:

Rather than making a splash, go into stealth mode. You'll learn more.

When I read it I had to laugh out loud! We have our family reunion tomorrow. Since Mom and I are in charge of it that means we have extra work to do, most which can't be done until the last minute. I work 6 days a week, so that means I'll have to hustle this evening to get my cooking done and other stuff like laundry for the week. Since I'll be busy from noon until late afternoon tomorrow, I need to do my weekend chores tonight.

Yesterday Doug and I had dinner plans. And today, my brother told me he would take me to an early dinner so I could relax for an hour or so before getting into the rush of the evening.

But my mom has other plans. Since she's staying the weekend, along with my Granny, she decided to have a cook-out at the house late afternoon. I worked late yesterday and rushed home to get ready for my dinner date and didn't talk to her. John mentioned our plans while I was gone and Mom told him about the cookout she had planned. He asked if she had told me about it. Her words "No, she'll find out about it when she gets off work tomorrow."

She could have told me last night when I got home and this morning before I left for work. She didn't. John called at 1 pm and told me about her 'secret' plans. She knew I would object. We've got enough to do besides entertaining and the extra cleanup job afterwards. I was angry. Very angry and angry enough to make a splash but then... I thought... Hmmm I have an upperhand here. She doesn't know I know. Nor does she know I have to work until 4.

So what am I going to do? I'm going to go shopping after work. I deserve a new reunion outfit and while I'm out, I'll unwind at the bookstore. And grab a salad at Subway and maybe read some. I figure I can slip in around 7:30. When Mom says, "Where have you been? We cooked-out and I needed you here." I'll say, "I didn't know. You didn't tell me about cooking out."

Stealth mode, baby.

Friday 13th

Beware of Bad Luck icons!

Ok I admit it...I am a wee bit superstitious.

I do not pick up pennies that I find on the ground unless they are heads up.

I knock on wood when I brag about something, so I don't jinx myself.

I do not tear today's date off my desk-top day2day calendar until the next day. If I have to turn the pages to a future date, I make sure I turn it back to the current date as soon as I am done.

I believe that if you talk too much about something you really want to happen, it won't happen.

I believe that things happen in 3's. And in the power of 3.

Well, those are the main ones. I can't think of any others at the moment.... and looking over the list I realize for a southern belle, I am not all that superstitious...not like some of the people I know who live here.

Midnight

I am out of Audio books and can't sleep so I'm here. In my satin jammies with 60's type flowers on them. Peace, baby.

When I got off work, I drove over to my favorite drugstore. I was out of the thermacare heat wraps and wanted to get another pack while I had time. I knew tomorrow would be bad, because Doug asked me to dinner and Sat, I have to get ready for the Cox family reunion. This is crazy but I dread both!!

Well, they were out. I muttered to myself about my displeasure and a lady overheard me. She told me Walmart had them--and they were cheaper too. I sighed loudly. Was I up for a trip to the Town of Walmart? Really didn't have much choice, so I drove over without much fanfare. Found a park in my favorite area to park in and as I walked to the door, I saw a familiar car...

David C.

He is an asshole...the smartass asshole types. Plus...I dated him a few times before Al and I got together and he had some harsh things to say about Al but not to his face, mind you. One thing about David C...he notices things... things that most people wouldn't mention. Like if your hair is sticking up or if you're wearing a black top and black pants which aren't the same shade..etc...

When I walked inside, I put on my David C radar... I didn't want to see him. Because I was wearing sandals and had a Jay Jay the Jet Plane band-aid on my big toe. I wore new shoes Wednesday, which rubbed a blister on my toe. I don't have normal band-aids because the nephews won't wear them.

I knew David would notice. He's one of those 'once-over' people. Since we dated, he tends to spout out cruel comments--even if they are veiled by poor use of humor.

I stopped at the end of every aisle I passed to look down before going by it. When I finally found the heatwraps, I heard his voice and his son's "but DAD!!" (he got married after we dated and has a kid whose William's age) and I grabbed the icy hot brand instead of the thermacare. And ran. I hid in the bike section, which was close by. I stood by some nifty bikes, wishing I was a kid again. There was a cool pink one. I always wanted a pink one. My first bicycle was green. Anyway, I listened for Dave's voice ...trying to figure out what direction he was heading.

After a few moments of not hearing him, I made a dash for the hoisery section. I wanted to get some of those new hose that are made for sandals and mules. The half sole type. I bet I just lost my male readers...

I got what I wanted and there they were..Dave and son. Dave had a list in his hand and he was arguing with his son who wanted a toy or something. I made a quick turn and found myself in the handbag section--not a good thing. There are several shopping fetishes that I possess... 1) eccentric looking handbags.. 2) lipstick and nail polish... 3) books. I fought off the impulsive urge to buy a pastel pink bag with flowers on it. And hurried to the checkout.

Looking back now... it was have been less time-costly, if I had faced him. It would have taken less than a minute to say hi and ignore whatever smartass remark he might make. Too bad it wasn't on a middle finger--the Jay Jay band-aid. You get the image I'm sure.

I didn't think about getting any regular band-aids until I got home.

Another Thursday

Looks like another Thursday's almost gone! How about if I make it an acroustic Thursday!

A 200 yr-old law about couples living together in NC has been in the news recently. It seems that NC could fine the 144,000 couples $1,000 and give them a 60 day stay in jail--separate cells I assume. I doubt they'll go that far. But it brings into focus those old laws we ignore. I'm all for bringing the one that says its against the law to spit on the sidewalks. Think of the money NC could make and how sparkling free our streets would be of spit.

Never tell an independent brainy woman that she doesn't understand how men think! Believe me I do! and it would be with my crotch first....my brain second.

Opalrose.com is my website. Here's some trivia... Opal is my birthstone...Rose is my middle name.

The UPS guy who delivers stuff to the studio, does not believe I wrote the poems in my book. He says that I am a 'arter' and not a 'poeter' ... I've come to the conclusion that it's not what Brown can do for me...its what I can do for him...Like pay for night school classes in grammer.

Harry Potter 6 will soon give some magic to those that read the books. Which reminds me...I need to read them again. Live the magic, baby.

Example...my mother keeps telling me to be a good 'example' for my nephews. I asked recently "An example of what?"

Railroad! I cross one to get to and fro my house. The area I cross is right by the station. CRX or whatever the name of the company is. It carried Freight. Many times in the afternoon they are working on the cars. When they do this the warning lights are going off. I edge my truck up and look to see if a train is coming...if not...I drive across. No more will I be able to do this! They put up a guard rail! I'm at their mercy. Do they see the tracks of my tears?


This Sunday is the annual Cox family reunion--my mom's paternal side. Fun time in the county! So far I've not had to deal with relatives trying to make a date with me.

Had an interesting conversation with my truck radio today. Yea, it was one-sided but I think I got my message through. I'm tired of it playing cool songs when I park the truck and I'm late for work.

Uranus..William asked what it meant. We were watching Jimmy Neutron. I told im the truth...it was a planet. Now...why do these opportunities for great come back lines happen when I'm talking to a 6-yr-old kid?

Red is not my favorite color of for roses. Pink is.

Sex and the City was once my all time favorite show to watch over and over. But since it went into Cableland, they've cut out the best parts. Now I love watching Curve your Enthusiasm. I've seen the seasons on DVD at least 3 times. Larry David...he's a riot. My favorite episode is the last one for season 3. Fuckshitbitchcuntprickasshole

Dad's favorite joke to tell peope when they ask why he doesn't have a photo on display of himself at the studio is..."When I put my picture up, people send me get-well jokes." Wish I had a $100 for every time I heard that joke. I would be owner of a small tropical island and thus proclaim myself "Goddess of the Tropics."

As of this second 6 people have called me ma'am today. Time to wash away some gray.

Yams. I hate them. I am Yam free. And Yam-intolerant.

Plane Scare

Small Plane Scares DC

Yea... Lumberton makes World Wide News.

This plane was headed for the Air Show I wrote about in my magazine..


Link to story

Fallen in Love

with audio books! Every night the person reading seduces me with images and voices. I close my eyes and listen as I lay in the darkness of my room, fan blowing softly. Right now I'm on the last CD of the Blood and Gold novel by Anne Rice. It's about Marius. I keep picturing the actor who portrayed him in the "Queen of the Damned" rip-off. In the original books of Rice's, Marius is blonde with flowing hair and elegance few portray today. He is by far my favorite character. I have one CD left to hear and I am very sad. I want more. (stamps foot and folds arms in a pout)

A Sip of Melancholy

I've gotten a few calls about the article. Mainly friends and one customer who was upset I hadn't called her to tell her about my book. It was an oversight and to be honest, I'm not going to 'spam' my clients about my book.

One of my friends said, "now you'll get a husband for sure." I cracked up. Just because she's married, she thinks no one can be complete until they tie the knot. After we hung up, I fell into a melancholy. Not because I'm not married, but because so many put such an emphasis on commitment and love that they fail to realize there might be other areas of life that are just as 'wonderful' as love.

Then I started wondering if I put to much emphasis on seeking other aspects of life to fulfill me than turning to love, like my writing and my art...like my journey of self-discovery. In turning from the quest of love have I let the pathway to it become gnarled with weeds and vines? Parts of me say YES that I have done that and may never find my way through it. Another sip of Melancholy.

But before I can drink the whole bottle a strong voice inside says, "Oh don't fret. You are building strength along your journey and when the time comes to take the path to love, you'll have the power and the courage to rip away the obstacles along Love's pathway."

Time to remember this... 'quit listening to friend's who don't understand that.'

An article in the local paper about ME

Note: I re-typed it for my blog. The assistant editor of our newspaper featured me in his Wednesday column. I gave a copy of my poetry book to a friend who is a sales rep for the newspaper. She showed it to the editor and the assist editor, Michael called Monday morning and we did a phone interview. He's a nice guy and seemed genuinely impressed with my poetry. Here's the article.

She’s a Poet… and She Knows It.
By Michael Jaenicke--the Robesonian's Assistant Features editor

During the day, Sherrie Parnell keeps images in the center of the lens as a photographic restoration artist for TLC Photography. Late at night, she trades in her rigid frame for freeform art.

Parnell kicked the closet door off her poetry habit with “A Sip of Sherrie,” a book available through Publish America, a Baltimore self-publishing company. The book has more than 70 poems about nature, independent women, love, being single and life.

“It’s my creative outlet,” said the Lumberton native. “What I do at work is about staying in the lines, so to speak. So poetry lets me escape, relax and be creative. Every one of these poems is a piece of me. I guess I’ve come out of my artistic closet.”

Aging wine imitates the process of life in "Merlot Ponders"…

Lost
In shadow purple,
Sitting on a self,
Merlot
Wondered about
age,
As dust
Settled on glass.

Another poem, “The Sentinel,” ponders the life of a mighty oak tree. “I have seen that tree on my way to Wilmington many times,” Parnell said, “wondering what it has seen or what happened before the highway came through. Finally I had to write it down.”

Most of the poems are short and filled with imagery. The prose makes reference to magnolias, floating chiffon, splashing puddles, lavender light, secret pathways and distant hills. She is heavily influenced by Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet and diplomat who won a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971.

While there are many romantic offerings, Parnell said her next project, “Saturn and Satin” is “about 99% about love and lost love.” The self-taught poet is writing first novel, a process that has reached the editing stage.

Poetry is nothing new for the 42-year-old. She has been jotting down lines for years, dating back to her days as a student at Orrum High School.

“A Sip of Sherrie” is available at www.publishamerica.com.

Free Sex

ha...got your attention

I should be working but while the cats away, the mice will play. Or maybe take a bath in the cats water bowl. That's what I would do.

I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt a guy I know (not sure who he really was but I knew I recognized him in my dream. He was tall and kind of dumb--so he could be a number of guys). In my dream I lived in a huge house with lots of stairwells and rooms. In some of the rooms, women were holding meetings, some were even those 'red hat' ladies.

He came into the room I was in and said, "Look, my brother circumcized me."

Which was silly because he had always been circumcized. His cockhead was purple and I notice incision marks. I said, "That's going to leave ugly scar tissue."

He left and I had to go outside and feed the dinosaurs. As I was getting their food (it was bags of dogfood), the T-rex ate the others. Then ran off and hid behind a huge oak tree, scared that I was going to punish him. I pretended to be angry but was relieved...thousands of dog food bags were expensive.

Starbucks and Bruce

I own a copy of Bruce Springsteen's latest CD "Devils & Dust."
There's a song on it that has Adult content--its about an encounter with a hooker. It's called Reno-- good song, but I agree very adult. Starbucks isn't going to offer the CD to its customers due to the song. That's their perogative. This CD isn't for mocha loving espresso's. Its more like Irish Coffee.

Personally I like the CD. Even like the Song. It has a wide variety of topics from Hookers to Jesus and horses in between. I've listened to it in the dark and find his deep throaty ballads luring me into a dream state. I've listened to it during the morning as I get ready for work and the bopping along songs motivate me as I apply my daytime face--though the next to last song has a falsetto that makes me cringe...its the only song I don't like. Out of 12 songs, that's not bad.


here's the link to the Reno Lyrics:

Reno

Sleep of Winter

Across my horizon, flowers in full bloom;
tints of pink, yellow, red and purple
flutter in a warm spring breeze.

I find the harshness of beauty
too damaging to my eyes,
to behold on this May day.

Within every breath I inhale
there is a darkness that refuses light,
even as nature flaunts beauty.

I do not want to be here,
surrounded by art I didn't create,
the lush colors of spring's promise.

Give me the sleep of winter,
cold and crisp fingers on my soul
writing your name with its ice.

I cannot abide rays of spring light,
fearing they'll melt my memories
of winter's frost and you.

~ ~ ~
Ever seen something so beautiful that you resent it because it takes away a memory you hold tight, even if it's a bad one?

Monday is Sunday

...meaning its sunny out.

And hot. I think we're at 85 F. I've got my fan going and have to say I'm glad this place is drafty.

Talk about a hectic week. I was glad to see Sunday get here. People tend to wait to the last minute to get pictures copied. And I can't count how many called Friday about orders that weren't requested for Mother's Day. But I anticipated that. So I wasn't caught off guard.

Too make matters worse, my old shoulder injury from 94 came back to haunt me this week. I rushed home Thurs in agony. I could barely move my arm and there was mass swelling around my shoulder and up to the side of my neck. I dropped by the drugstore and got some of those thermacare heatwraps. I swear they are miracle workers. 8 hours of heat. After four nights of them, I feel better today. There is swelling but no pain.

Mother's day was nice. Lots of sunshine. I did most of the cooking and it was well-received. My sister made some sort of strawberry glaze to go over cake. I swear it had caster oil in it. It totally SUCKED.

Before we got together, my sister called that morning to ask if I had something or other. William got on the phone and said all in one breath, "Aunt Sherrie We're having a celebration today. There are songs to sing about families. You have a part. Do you know it? We are celebrating today. My tooth came out. I need another baby tooth but the tooth fairy won't leave me one. I'm getting $90."

Oh man I lost it. I said, "yes dear, it is good to dream."

Now... I am goofing off online, trying to catch up on email I didn't get a chance to write. And blogging... however did I survive without it last week!

Puzzled?

.... would you like to be?

if so here's the site for you. ...a jigsaw puzzle site. Found it browsing for something else.

Puzzles

Carolina Potpourri

My Online Magazine is available for Public Viewing.


Carolina Potpourri

While I have a moment

...... what a week! And it's just Wednesday. Hump day...

I need to get laid. I think if I get laid, some of this stress will blow off. lol..well at least for that moment.

It's crunch time at the studio. Daycare photos, graduation and prom photos and also Mother's Day copy orders. People wait until the last minute for those. Been restoring some interesting photos this week. There are times when I get lucky and have antique photos to repair. This photo is of a baby. The back of the photo had 1908 on it. The man died last year. His granddaughter found the photo in his sock drawer.

I have a sock drawer. My brother keeps his socks and underwear in the same drawer. I don't. To me it borders on having a fetish to mix them like that.

Plumbing problems this weekend. My regular plumber wouldn't return my calls, so I tried out a new one. I was pleased with him. He's an elderly guy and has his son working with him. They 'used their brains' and came up with an inexpensive solution to my leak... at first they thought they had to cut a hole in my wall to be to a pipe but in the end they ran a new line. Saved me about $500 and for two visits and the new line, they charged me $225. I think a fair price. Had the son to show me how to properly use a plumber's friend. My brother is prone to cloggage.

What else... oh ... my dad. He's driving me loopy. When we are this busy he seems to find ways to misplace things or to forget to do something that needed to be done days before hand. I have to stop my work to get his stuff straightened out. He's at work 7 days a week and its all he can think about. I told him today that he needs to stop staying around here so much and find other interests. That he's so obsessed with the business that it's interferring with his performance. Of course I'm wrong and don't know what I'm talking about, according to him.

I want to apologize to anyone I haven't emailed lately. I think about it and would do it .... but... well... life gets in the freakin' way lately.