Do You Have Issues?

"Shmily"

2009-10-26T21:44:00.002-04:00

My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.

They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. "Shmily" was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet.

There was no end to the places "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering wheels. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in the ashes of the fireplace.

This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture. It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grand-parents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents' relationship. They had love down pat.It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky to experience. Grandma and Grandpa hold hands every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen.

They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble..

My grandma whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew "how to pick 'em."

Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other. But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life: my grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside. Now the cancer was again attacking her body.

With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife.

Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone. "Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby. Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.

S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.

The Obama Chicken

2009-10-24T22:21:00.001-04:00

John the farmer was in the fertilized egg business. He had several hundred young layers (hens), called "pullets" and eight or ten roosters, whose job was to fertilize the eggs.

Farmer John kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into the soup pot and was replaced. That took an awful lot of his time so he bought a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone so John could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells. The farmer's favorite rooster was B. Obama, and a very fine specimen he was, too. But on this particular morning John noticed B. Obama's bell hadn't rung at all!

John went to investigate. The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover. But to Farmer John's amazement, Obama had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one. John was so proud of Obama, he entered him in the Boone County Fair and Obama became an overnight sensation among the judges.

The result... The judges not only awarded Obama the No Bell Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well. Clearly Obama was a politician in the making: who else but a politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention?

Help Coastal Pet Rescue win $20,000!!

2009-09-15T11:56:00.007-04:00

I don't usually do this, but I'm writing today to let you know about The Animal Rescue Site $100,000 Shelter & Challenge. Together with Petfinder, the Animal Rescue Site is awarding $100,000 in grants to eligible Petfinder.com member rescue organizations to help animals.

Lisa here is a wonderful friend, but also a caring, passionate and driven individual who does so much for the homeless and abused pets here in the Coastal Savannah area. Times have been rough in this economy and donations aren't up to par, and this organization can really use this extra money to put towards vet bills, spays/neuters and finding homeless pets long term loving homes and families that will love them.

You can learn more about Lisa and Coastal Pet Rescue, and all of their wonderful, selfless efforts here at www.coastalpetrescue.org If you have a few dollars to spare that would be welcomed, appreciated and wonderful...

...but we know times have been hard on so many. Especially on many of our furry friends who seem to be suffering the worst of effects of neglect and abandonment during these tough times. If you don't have a dollar to spare, could you give just 30 seconds of your time and vote for Coastal Pet Rescue in Savannah, GA for a chance to help the organization to make ends meet?

The grand prize is a $20,000 grant, and there are many other prizes. Please visit www.theanimalrescuesite.com to vote today and every day if you can. You don't have to register, and voting is free.

Thank you so much!!

A Dog's Purpose. (From the view of a 6 year old)

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker 's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on... Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion... We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.''

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.

He said,''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?'' The Six-year-old continued,

''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''

Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

What Have you Missed?

2009-09-14T11:51:00.003-04:00

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning. A man with a violin plays six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people passed through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin valued at $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the price of seats averaged $100.

Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

"If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made... what else are we missing?"

The Mayonnaise Jar and 2 Cups of Coffee

2009-09-12T22:09:00.002-04:00

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee...

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "

I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.

The golf balls are the important things-your God, family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions -- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car.

The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal."

Take care of the golf balls first -- the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

September 11th

2009-09-11T12:33:00.003-04:00

Ten years ago today, I was alone. A choice, perhaps even a selfish one, for earlier that year I had ran away with what was left of my life to Savannah, GA. Toting only a very few possessions that represented not what I had became, but only what I wished so badly to be.

As I reminisced on the year that had passed I dialed up onto AOL and asked Jeeves what had happened on September 11th during the birthday years that had passed me by. There nestled among the search engine results somewhere between the introduction of the Ford Pinto and Camp David Accords, was a misplaced resume’.

Seems Jon was hip to search engine optimization before the acronym SEO was even thought of. There in all of its glory was a condensed synopsis of a computer geek’s life. Yes, I had read it entirely but only because of my nagging curiosity on what the contents had to say or do with September 11th.

It turned out that this Jon Dude had not only the same birthday but was born on the same year. For those of you that know me, the selfish me – this was indeed a travesty. There was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to let some nerdy geekazoid get away with such a matter. I sat there in disgust imagining the stereotypical guy in plaid slacks and pocket protector perv’ing over Visual Basic and Tesla Coils and was prompted to fire him off my very first flaming email.

“Dude! You stole my birthday and I’d like to have it back!”

This began an avalanche of back and forth correspondences over the next few months that eventually landed me on a non-stop flight to Boston to attempt to forcibly wrestle my birthday back from him. Only that didn’t happen. No, for at the bottom of the terminal escalator stood not the nerd of expectation, but a tall handsome figure that made my knees give out from under me and I haven’t walked on anything but air ever since.

I’ll fast forward quickly before this mushy, Cinderella meets Prince Story ejects the sandwich that you just ate for lunch. We did spend our next and first birthday together magically as intended, but the following year we awoke to have the magic ripped from underneath us.

19 crazy men wrestled our birthday away from us and left in its place tragedy, destruction and sorrow. Every anniversary that has passed of this day reminds us to never forget and that it is improper to smile, party-on or celebrate anything. Our birthday had become bigger than us and we both must share it with the entire world.

Today, we're finally finding that it’s okay to celebrate, not the event but for the beautiful day that it is and for the people who walk within it. Somewhere there is a fireman risking his life to save a stranger, a police officer responding to a call for help and a teacher guiding a child in the right direction. Out there today is a volunteer who helps the elderly, the homeless, the poor and the abused. There is a soldier defending us, a Mommy mending a scraped knee and a person simply praying.

It is indeed a Happy Birthday for we wouldn’t have wanted to be born at any other place or time, or to have lived without such a wonderful collection of beautiful, caring people. All who represent what we have become a part of and will never forget or ever leave behind.

To you, to ALL of you who are the candle on our cake that we will never wish to blow out - God Bless.

Fast Food From the God Box: Shock 'n Awe

2009-07-23T20:35:00.003-04:00

I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights or its decor..

But it was the folks in Heaven
Who made me sputter and gasp--
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus , 'What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.

'And why's everyone so quiet,
So somber - give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' He said, 'they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you.'

Every saint has a PAST, every sinner a FUTURE.

Interview with former President George W. Bush (My Hero!)

2009-07-17T13:07:00.005-04:00

Tinkerbell's (Squrit's) Grave Concern

2009-07-08T19:13:00.001-04:00

I'm being told that there is a real, big, stinky booger-faced troll living inside of a tree in our backyard!!!

Sesame Street Explains the Madoff Scandal

2009-06-30T15:54:00.001-04:00

Headlines in the News this Week!

2009-06-29T00:55:00.003-04:00

Elvis is really alive!

Michael Jackson died 20 years ago!

Police investigate drug store that fed Billy Mays' "Just for Men" addiction.

Her teeth are falling out!

2009-06-21T22:07:00.003-04:00

Yes, she's a fright! Graduated from Kindergarten and on her way to 1st grade after summer vacation. Here Squirt is with her missing front teeth! Yikes!

Shaking my Shamrocks at You!

2009-03-16T16:02:00.003-04:00

We're getting our green on over here and getting ready to ring in St. Pat's day with a blast. The whole family is going to be in the parade tomorrow and it's going to be a lot of fun. I'll take and post more pictures I promise.

It's been a busy weekend and it's still going strong. We spent Saturday working on the parade float and had a great time!

Happy St. Paddy's Eve Everyone!

Margie Unplugged; Closets

2009-03-11T09:42:00.001-04:00

Welcome to another edition of Margie Unplugged where I babble on about whatever enters my mind without giving a thought to political correctness or if what I write down happens to make any sense whatsoever. Free writing is what I believe they call it.

The top thought in my mind this morning is that I have to go to the bathroom. Sorry about that, but I'm not going to get up and go running to the water closet just yet. Some of you may know I've been quite sick since before Thanksgiving. It was one thing, followed by another, yet another and I'm falling apart so it seems. The medications that I'm on - make me feel even sicker in a sense but I have to take them else drop dead or something. This one pill - makes me have to go to the bathroom all of the time. I've learned to hate it. To ignore it and not let it control me. Yet, it ends up winning each and every battle in the long run.

Next on my mind is making sandwiches and lunches for 56 kids. I still work for the tour company next door but at a less stressful level. In fact, it is stress free and at the same pay I was making before. Back during the planning of the Obama Inauguration trip I had about lost my mind with stress. Then fell ill. I guess I've come to the realization that I prefer employment to where I am given a job - then go on to do that job well and to completion so I can then get on with the rest of my life. Time clocks are terrible and so are 8 hour work days. I mean really - once a job is done why should I sit there staring at a clock? I hate that. It's wasting time, like sitting at the dozen traffic lights that it takes for me to go pick up a loaf of bread. It's just not in me anymore to work without a purpose or waste time anymore.

Last on my mind this morning is the pending debut of "ME" coming out of my closet. I'm not sure if I'm going to rush the gun and come out tomorrow evening or wait until Saturday morning. I'm nervous about that - but have made up my mind it has to be done. Either way, it will work out fine I'm sure.

Sharing a Bit on Debt

2009-03-09T08:56:00.002-04:00

Later last week I was watching a financial show that mentioned 1983, how we survived through that and how we'll survive through this also. I was a young teen then who made a lot of money each week simply by babysitting for others in our small town. That was until my Mom decided to take on a job behind my father's back to "spare his ego" and to help pay the bills.

That cut my hours for with two younger sisters Mom needed me to be there when they came home from school. Mom also needed me to cover for her by cleaning the house, hanging laundry and getting dinner started. This way, when Dad came home shortly after Mom would - he'd wouldn't know that she wasn't home all day. I could only babysit for others after dinner and the money made from this was used for my school lunches, clothes and other things. In fact - Mom even begged to borrow some of my money so my sisters could have lunch or go on a small field trip.

So Friday evening on CNBC they state that we all survived through this era. NOT!!

It's a fact that I never realized or knew until 3-4 years ago when I had to go up to NJ to help out my parents when Mom fell ill with Breast Cancer and Dad had a stroke. Both were under 60 years old and couldn't go to work during this time. It was a long wait for SSDI and there I sat with a load of bills in my lap.

They have a mortgage way over the value of their home. A home they purchased for $12,000 back in 1970. A second mortgage that was used to consolidate credit card debts a few years before. Unfortunately I also had to look into their life insurance policy and found that they had borrowed against this too.

Keep in mind there are no fancy cars, clothes or jewelry. Other than bowling my parents never went on vacation or out much. These debts were made to pay off debts. Money was borrowed to pay electric, food or medical bills. I'm afraid to say that over the past 20 years they had to have paid over a half a million dollars just in interest payments alone on debt.

Did we all survive that era? Not at all.

Here we are in another such era and I am burdened with a responsibility unlike anything I had ever planned for. I'm raising my own daughter, paying my own mortgage and putting food on my table - yet any day now, my parents could be driving up to my front door with a Uhaul truck.

I don't want them here. But who do I blame, them? The government? The banking institutions?

All in all, if a lesson is to be learned from 1983 it would be do not go into debt to pay off your debts. Save, pinch, cut coupons and costs. Take on a side job, cut up the credit cards, eat ramen noodles and shop for clothes at Goodwill. Anything. Look at your documents before you sign a car loan or mortgage. If you're going to be paying $60,000 in the long run for a $14,000 used car - buy a beat box with your down payment instead.

If we're going to survive this era - and not turn out homeless 30 years from now - we need credit and financial counselors outside of the banking institutions. We can be a government "of the people" if we band together and fight through this together.

Dr. Suess Week!

2009-03-08T10:42:00.002-04:00

Thanks to Dr. Suess week, I was given a strange request for breakfast this morning along the lines of "Green Eggs and Ham." Green Waffles with green sugar sprinkles was in order. Oh, and with a cherry on top!

Lost!

2009-03-06T10:54:00.002-05:00

This one is fairly easy. Go to your favorite search engine (Google, Blingo, etc.) and type in with quotes your name and lost. Ex: "Margie lost."

Barring the depressing results, list the top 20 interesting finds.

1. Margie lost sight of dishes and smiled. (A dishwasher to put them in would be primo!)
2. Margie lost her sister to the chemical smog. (I told her to stop smoking that stuff!)
3. Margie lost her train of thought a few times. (Only a "few" times?)
4. Margie lost 40 pounds. (I did once and need to do it again.)
5. Margie lost her cheese when the rack broke. (The cheese slid off my cracker years ago.)
6. Margie lost this morning. (Don't do mornings, what else is new?)
7. Margie lost a $10 bet on Ghetto President. (If you say so.)
8. Margie lost her footing. (Happens often actually.)
9. Margie lost rental income and incurred attorney's fees. (Deadbeat renters!!)
10. Margie "lost her mind". (If you find it please send it home.)
11. Margie lost her water bottle. (I think it's still on the floor in my car.)
12. Margie lost no time in scoring a wazaari. (Judo. Sweet.)
13. Margie lost contact with you for many years. (Now look what happened.)
14. Margie lost a lot of length but gained a sophisticated style with a chic new cut. (I do need a haircut.)
15. Margie Lost me on this one. (Yeah, I tend to do that.)
16. Margie lost power on a Friday morning. (Who forgot to pay the electric bill?)
17. Margie lost her voice. (Something had to shut me up.)
18. Margie lost her fourth tooth. (Soon to be five.)
19. Margie lost her mansion. (Didn't know I had one of those, guess I should go look for it.)
20. Margie lost it again. (Figures, just when I find it.)

The Sun Will Come Out - Tomorrow

2009-03-01T22:01:00.000-05:00

A special song for everyone by our darling Squirt.

Naked Dreams

2009-02-26T15:10:00.003-05:00

Naked Dreams. We all have had them while dreaming of going to work, back to high school or simply walking down the street. Suddenly we're mortified but oddly no one else seems to take notice of our vulnerability.

Finding myself in the buff is just one of many crazy dreams I've experienced. Since around the age of sixteen I have kept a Dream Journal by my bed to record what I could remember of my selective subconscious. Through the years I've been assaulted by Tinkerbell, found extra rooms in my house that I never knew about and have been chased by sharks while in the water where my legs won't move fast enough.

Squirt has been having some lively, colorful dreams here as of late. Being only six and too young to journal them down, I've suggested that she draw me a picture of her dreams.

Here is her latest:

Can anyone guess what her dream was about?

The Big Switch

2009-02-17T11:30:00.004-05:00

Today there are millions of TV sets in the United States that will stop working unless measures have been taken for them to receive digital signals. Despite all the informative advertisements warning of this change and the countless notices in every electronic store across the nation; somebody this morning is banging the ever living crap out of the side of their boob tube.

If I recall correctly we've known about this change since before the year 2000. The HDTV rolled in on the shelves while the prices of the usual fishbowl in the box rolled back. Tempting us dearly to invest in something that wouldn't last over the next 10 years.

Strange how back then we weren't told of the option of using a converter box. Thankfully, my 2 ton 19" Zenith from 1979 still sits on the top of my bedroom dresser and works this morning. With the assistance of Comcast Cable and their fancy little digital box.

I love that box man, for that TV is 30 years old and still has dials on it's front face. The box has granted me magical remote control capabilities, for God forbid if I have to get out of bed and walk 3 feet to turn that shit off. Such bodily activity at 1 a.m. would totally wake me up for the rest of the night.

I suspect that most people took the necessary steps to make sure their TV set would work when they turned them on today. We usually respond well to warnings tied to specific dates, but often fail to prepare for an event that will come “some day.”

We prepped for Y2K and surpassed it without much difficulty. Some are preparing for 12/21/12 although I suspect that little do they know, it's just an ancient Y2K problem in the Mayan calendar. Then there is the promised return of Jesus.

Regardless of your faith or stance, He did say He was coming back and will return. How He will manage the bridge between time and space is not beyond my imagination nor do I count it to be an impossibility. Einstein himself proved that time and space travels in a curve. That which curves goes round and that which is going round will return to cross paths again. It's simple math and geometry actually, complicated only by metaphysics which we hairless monkeys have failed to invest any study upon.

Jesus' disciples asked about the date of His return (Matt. 24). He replied, “But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, but My Father only." He then urged them to be prepared so that they would not be taken by surprise.

Our Comcast Cable installer gave me an exact day and window to prepare for his arrival when we moved into this new house. You know what, I waited all day and he never even showed up! Seriously, I prepared and cleared out my schedule for that day and ended up having to call the local office to schedule another install.

Jesus is honest and hasn't given us a date or time expectation. He has told us to be alert and wise to the seasons of prophecy. Basically we are all told to pencil Him in everyday - just in case. This way we are sure that we will not be taken, or left behind if the case may be; by surprise.

Unlike the US government vouchers that offer $40 towards the purchase of a converter box, the Lord has already purchased a Converter for us. (John 3:16) This Converter provides comfort, direction, forgiveness and the freedom of many channels to choose from. The best of all eternal life.

Have you converted yet?

The Crossroad

2009-02-08T17:21:00.003-05:00

I've come upon this crossroad a few times and each time choose neither. I always turned around and went back in the direction from where I came.

I must be roaming in circles for recently that sign bashed me in between my eyes again. It hurt!

I turned around and screamed in horror! This time, turning around and going back was more frightful than either option that the pesky sign offered.

So I sat down in the middle of the road and started bawling my eyes out...

...and there I still sit.

(Brain Fart brought to you by The Death of Retail Price and a trout slapping No Return Policy.)

Hating Cold Viruses

2009-01-31T15:21:00.004-05:00

I'm sitting here this afternoon really hating cold viruses. I can almost swear I've had three different ones back to back through this past week.

(Ah Choo!)

I can't stand cold medicine either. Bennies knock me out cold. The dull fuzzy feeling that renders a person unable to think, write or pick up their own mess.

(Ah Choo!)

Boxes and boxes of tissues! When I ran out of these, toilet paper. Paper towels and dinner napkins in a pinch. My nose now makes Rudolf look like he merely had Rosacea!

(Ah Choo!)

Aspirin makes me sick. Tylenol doesn't work. (Ah Choo! Ah Choo!) Advil Liquid Gels - Meh, maybe. Zicom (recommended courtesy of FlynFox) is doing it's best job.

(Ah Choo!)(Ah Choo!)(Ah Choo!)

Wow, a three for one there.

Anyhoo, little girls who draw pictures of their Mommies dancing in the freezing snow...

Somehow this makes the day seem much warmer and the cold virus; not so bad.

(Ah Choo!)

Face-a-book'in!

2009-01-27T11:24:00.007-05:00

I've been spending more of my time over on Facebook - perhaps have become addicted to it. I'm not sure yet but an intervention may be necessary.

Sorry to leave y'all hanging on yesterday's post but I'm gonna do it again. The virus that attacked me upon awakening yesterday morning has backed off some. The nose faucet has slowed to a trickle and the tonsils went from the size of softballs to ping-ponger's. My spirit is a bit lifted also, but I'm still gonna housecoat and bunny slipper it today.

Gotta big day tomorrow. Squirt has an odd, let's throw this in to mess with Margie's program; Half-day. So I'm saving my strength up for that. I do after all, have to go to that evil place where they hold my paycheck hostage.

Free Writing About the Funk

2009-01-26T12:41:00.003-05:00

Let's see, where did I leave off? The last time I solidly blogged I was working and had come down with pneumonia right before Thanksgiving. We'll begin with the latter; pneumonia.

It takes weeks to get over pneumonia and for some reason or another I didn't quite believe that would be the case. Unfortunately this illness did some permanent damage to my right lung and I'm now forever armed with a Puffer for chronic asthma. It's terrible as I now have asthma attacks all of the time. Climbing up stairs, going out in the cold frigid air or whiffing anything chemical like a lady wearing too much perfume.

Topping that off the Dr. had put me on a few other medications for other health reasons that I now believe were giving me some sick feeling side effects. So we've been adjusting some here, ditching some there and replacing others until finally at the end of last week I was starting to feel normal and quite good again.

Then I wake up this morning with some sort of cold, sore throat and fever bug. Figures!

Ahhh, but then that job I used to have. Yes - for those in doubt, this was the absolute worse job on the planet! It suffers from a structure of anarchy where the owner could easily end the chaos but refuses to try anything different. Being friends with the owner made my decision to quit much more difficult.

Yes, the last two and a half months have been my funkiest ever.

But "The Funk" I now know has been hanging over my head for longer than this. After Mrs. McCoy had passed away I was to take the summer off and spend it with Katie before she started going to school full time. Then I fully believed that God was going to shine His heavenly light of direction upon my life.

In fact, I'm sure that He did do just that but it was me who wasn't paying attention.

There I was taking on a miserable job, being miserable and depressed, soon falling sick and more miserable yet. I know now that all of this could have been avoided if I had only listened.

So now, or rather yesterday during this wonderful season of Epiphany - I listened and that heavy funk lifted.

I'll leave y'all hanging on that thought for now.

Fast Food From the God Box: Missionary?

2009-01-25T16:04:00.004-05:00

I suppose I should write here and now to explain where I've been...

...but I'll do that later. For now, I gotta focus on where I am going.

Today I've been churched and thus - should be good for the remainder of the week.