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.

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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.

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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...

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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