Old and Bitter Magazine

You Can Kill Me Now! (This is dark humor)

2012-07-18T11:27:00.000-06:00

So my friend and I were watching TV; the Investigation Discovery Channel. We watched two episodes back to back. In the first episode a 50 year old woman was bludgeoned to death by her husband. She was so severely beaten that the investigators thought that she had been shot in the face with a shotgun. Well the autopsy showed that she had NOT been shot in the face simply severely beaten. When all was said and done the husband was found guilty and his punishment was 5-10 years, and he gets out this year; 2012!

Second episode. A pretty young girl was strangled and raped; she's in her early 20s. Her body was found dead under some bushes. After a year or more of investigation her killer was caught and sentenced to death by lethal injection.

My friend turned to me and said: " So you can kill an ugly old and pretty much get away with it, and hardly serve any time if you do get caught; but if you murder a young and pretty girl you'll get the death penalty." I couldn't help but think that his thinking was soooooo true. Of course I think that if you're 50+ a person should have to serve at the most 30 years since the life expectancy on the average is 80!

How Old ARE You?

2012-06-19T11:57:00.000-06:00

I have to admit that I'm tired of being ANY age at all. I think that after a certain age you no longer have an age, and you can do whatever the hell you want. A lot of times I hear my mom on my shoulder saying things like: "don't you think you're a little too old to be wearing that?" or "After this age a woman should no longer have long hair." and "My word cover up your arms and legs those things shouldn't be seen anymore."

Well I'm here to say I am ageless. If anyone asks me how old I am anymore I'm going to say I'm ageless. I can't abide to the rules of what I can and cannot wear, present myself in an appropriate manner based on society's definition. I'm 50, ride a scooter, wear sleeveless tops and dresses, skirts, lots of color, clothes that aren't lose (because I think I look fat in lose clothing), I don't wear makeup that often anymore, I wear high heels, etc. All because that is part of who I am! I don't wear the stuff I do or ride a scooter because I want to appear younger, or older, or whatever but I do it because I want to; plane and simple. I don't give a rat's ass when I take my motorcycle helmet off and people are shocked to see a granny underneath. I don't care! I don't care if I wear a dress that is cool, comfy, and possibly viewed as provocative because I like it, I like the way it looks on me, and I want to be who I am, and express myself accordingly through my clothing etc.

My motto: If You Don't Like What You See Look Away!

Seriously!

2012-04-23T11:19:00.000-06:00

I'm sure you've all seen those ads for lengthening eyelashes stuff, and if you haven't; well you don't watch much TV, and good for you. TV is my vice of choice, and I LOVE watching it. It takes my mind off of getting old.

Anyway they show a woman who's attractive, and she's bitching about not having enough lashes after 40. Wha, wha, what? Are you kidding me? That's what she's worried about? She's not worried about starvation in the US, her financial prognosis for when she retires, the failing US school system, the US political system being bought and sold to the highest bidder, her parents who are not looking as healthy as they could and may need to come and live with her, her liver going bad because she drank too much in college? No, she's worried about not having enough lashes.

Now, if you re-watch the the link I've put in the first line; listen to all the side effects you could have. NowTHOSE are some real worries. The color of your Iris can turn brown, and will most likely be permanent (good bye big blues), you can have eye pressure problems, redness, and itchy eyes etc. Yup, I'll do me some of that eyelash stuff. I'll look perpetually tired, feel like I have allergies all the time but by damn I'll have long full lashes, and all the money I could have put into a good cause be damned!

It Is All In the Mind

2012-03-19T21:19:00.000-06:00

This is what I think I look like as I'm out and about. And THEN....

I look in the mirror and THIS is what I THINK I see! Man, getting older isn't pleasant on the mind. I can only wish for Alzheimer's!

"Depends"...SEXY?!

2012-02-28T10:17:00.000-07:00

Oh my. The advertising community has finally done it. They've crossed over the line as to what is sexy.

I ask you can Depends underwear actually BE sexy? Seriously. What on earth is this? They're advertising that Depends comes in colors now. Who gives a crap (no pun intended)? If you're going to pee yourself or otherwise who cares what color you do it in? Can you really feel sexier if you're sitting in your own pee if the diaper you have on is a pretty color?

I guess what got me is this woman, who is of a certain age, and attractive; is walking down a sidewalk, she has on a conservative light gray suit on, her hair is chin length (the appropriate length for women of a certain age), there is a breeze blowing her hair back in such a way that you are reminded of Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, and she (the woman of a certain age) flings it back with a wave of her head; like it could EVER be in her face. Then the camera follows her down the sidewalk from behind. YUCK!!!!!! The viewer knowing she could have pee is simply grossed out! Pee is NOT sexy....I repeat Pee is NOT sexy; color or not, breeze in hair etc. Pee is NOT sexy!

I tried to embed the commercial into this blog but they wouldn't let me so here's the image I got instead....pretty huh (really pretty colors too)?

Lingerie Department

2012-02-22T17:00:00.002-07:00

Have you ever noticed that the women who work in the lingerie department are older? Start noticing. They are wearing their reasonable shoes that are worn down especially on one heel, and they actually limp a little.
They have the sweetest temperament ever but you won't ask them any questions because you feel like your asking your grandma for sexy under clothing. Can you imagine? "Hey, grandma I would like to find a bra that will give me cleavage?"

Then, if you go to Victoria's Secret you get a bunch of 20 year olds that you feel like you're asking your daughter or niece for sexy clothing. Same thing: "So, little one, what do you think will help me turn your dad on?" REALLY?!

What an awkward thing. Too young and too old. Can't we get a lingerie store that caters to the in-between age? It is rare to see a sales person selling lingerie that is between the age of 40-60. Where are they? Is this age suffering from low sex drive, hot flashes and can't think of wearing anything, or have they just given up on trying to look sexy with their clothes off?

What Happened to the Good Old Days?

2012-02-13T17:03:00.000-07:00

Oh man. I'd really like to know what happened to the good old days when all I had to do before I went to bed was brush my teeth and wash my face, and in the morning just plain take a shower and wash my face while showering.

Now, at night I have to put on a white lab coat in order to pre-wash my face, wash my face, mist with hydra something or other, then put on a serum of some kind, and then finish with a moisturizer!!!! OMG!!! SERIOUSLY!!!!!! And the answer is yes, seriously. Plus after all that I still get pimples and wrinkles. I can only pray they are fewer but I'm too afraid to stop the routine to find out. I'm afraid if I stop my face will slide off my skull like in a Steven Spielberg horror flick.

Now let's talk about the morning routine. It varies no lab coat because I do most of it before, during, and directly following my shower. Don't go there...seriously don't even think about my nakedness. It will scare you to death. It does me every single solitary morning. Okay, pre-wash my face, get in the shower, rinse, facial scrub (only every 3 days), rinse, wash my face, rinse, and then apply a microfoliant (really don't know what that is I'm just supposed to use it), get out, put on a vitamin mask for 15 minutes (once a week), rinse, hydra mist, and then moisturize! Again, seriously!!!!!!

Is This My Future...Really?

2009-04-09T22:16:00.003-06:00

So New Years Day I went out for breakfast. I went by myself, and this is an activity that I will do regularly. Due to my job, retail, my schedule has me doing a lot of things by myself because my days off are different than most of my friends. Anyway, I go to a little diner around the corner from me and ask for a table for one. I'm thinking how nice it was to be there, and how relaxed I was. I couldn't wait to get in and have my favorite omelette and a delicious bloody mary. When I am finally led to a table I see several women eating alone too. I've never seen this many women eating alone in my entire life. These women were much older than myself which doesn't mean anything but they all looked so sad and pitiful. You could just see them eating their little breakfast, all of which weren't celebratory. Some just had toast, some scrambled eggs, and you just knew that they couldn't wait to get home to their cats that they had knit cute little outfits for.

I looked around me and thought: well I guess this is my future. Given it was early for New Years Day, and the revelers from the night before hadn't risen yet. I just felt awful. I've never felt this way before when eating out alone but this was horrible. I looked just like these pitiful women, and I learned that if you are going to eat out alone do not do it on New Year's Day!

I also have to pose this question: Why do men look less desparate then women when eating alone? When you see a man eating alone unless they look like they are a hundred don't you usually think; oh he must be a truck driver, or a business man away from home, or the family must be away on vacation. You see a woman eating alone you think aaaawww. Isn't she sad? Poor thing is all alone. I bet she has at least four cats, and she can't stand being away from them. I wonder what's wrong with her that she is alone. All I can say is I hope that someone will put me out of my misery before I start sewing or knitting things for pets, or eating TOAST for breakfast when I go out for breakfast.

Sisterly Wisdom

2009-04-08T12:59:00.002-06:00

Okay ladies in one of the many discussions I have with my sister the embarrassment of escaping gas, and no, I am not talking about an automobile gas leak (wink, wink). I have found that as I get older I will just unwittingly let out gas. It isn’t that I know that the gas is there, and I am just rude; it is that it will rear its noisy head whenever without my knowledge of its presents in the first place. How horrible is this?

I was telling my sister my concerns because, and forgive me my dear customers for this upcoming confession, I will be talking at work and oops what just happened?! I will probably talk a little louder than usual, or I’ll erupt in a blowout laugh in order to cover up, and the hopes of pretending that it didn’t happen. I don’t say excuse me because what if they never heard it, and I’m confessing an embarrassing moment when in actuality no one may even have heard it. Now, they are never silent, and I may be deluding myself , but I believe that they have no aroma.

So anyway I’m talking to my sister about my quandry as to what I should do: excuse myself or pretend it didn’t happen when she relays this next story to me. Now let me make it clear that my sister does not want me to write what I’m about to so I will change her name to protect her identity. I will refer to my sister as Skywalker (a wink goes to my sister). So I tell Skywalker this and she tells me that she has the same problem. She was walking in Memory Grove, a great park located in downtown Salt Lake City when a colleague of hers, who rides his bike sometimes in the same park, came up to say hi. She thought how nice, and maybe he was interested in her because he has stopped and walked his bike next to her at other times too. As they proceed to walk up the path every step that Skywalker takes she is farting! I mean every single step! She didn’t know what to do either. The first couple of times she thought he possibly may not have heard the farts so she said nothing but when they continue to erupt she finally had to say something so she quietly squeaked out, “excuse me.” At which point the gentleman pedaled away after politely excusing himself. Skywalker had no idea whether he had heard her eruptions or not but he did hear the apology. She even tried to disguise the farting by scuffing her sneakers on the cement, hoping that the sound would be, assumedly, her sneakers.

After this tale and great laughter we decided that pretending that it just isn’t happening is the best choice.

Disclaimer: to my customers every time I may be louder than usual or I burst out into laughter does not necessarily indicate that I have farted!

Poet's Corner

2009-04-08T12:50:00.002-06:00

This poem is 3 poems in one if you read the normal type that is one poem, the italics another, and when you put them together you get how hard it is to write in another poem. I couldn't format the way it should be so you could visually get the context thus the explanation.

Sirens
by
Jaidene Anderlini

Dry thoughts of cracked leaves
I shouldn’t have reacted so harsh.
Bleed into my mind,
I should say I’m sorry.
Like smoke and anger
Out of control, and burning.
Will he ever love me?
Rest that’s all
why does she have it all?
Water to peace the thoughts.
I love my dogs so much.
Colorful and falling
Smoldering to black.
My bills aren’t getting paid.
Dowsed. Just quit.
But no,
my coffee’s getting too hot.
They continue to crack.
My dogs are shedding a lot.
My house needs to be cleaned.
Burn
I hate my job.
No peace for water.
Will I always be alone?
I love the sounds of crickets.
Candlelight is peaceful.
Sleep is tossed with
I wish I looked like a model.
Tortured scorched leaves
No more.
I wish I could really write.

Existential Corner or Something To Think About

2009-04-08T12:48:00.003-06:00

Slum Spa and Nudity

Why are we (women) so ashamed of our bodies? It doesn’t matter what women look like skinny, emaciated, full-bottomed, flat chested, hippy, curvy, whatever; we hate our bodies. There seem to be two instances when women aren’t ashamed of what their bodies look like. The first instance is when they’ve had a plastic surgery, i.e boob jobs, lypo-suction etc. and the second time is when we are all naked together.

I will now address the latter instance: being naked together. There is a place that I go to that I lovingly call the slum spa. This establishment is really called Lakeside Steam, and it has been family owned and operated for decades. They have ladies days Monday and Thursday. Clothes are not an option. You have to be naked, and everyone is. I recall the first time I went there, and it was about 7 years ago. I was very freaked out. I am a very modest person. I don’t even sleep naked and I live alone! I have a robe that I wear when leaving the bathroom after a shower. That is just how I roll. So, when I chose to go to this place I was a little wierded out by it.

When I drove up to the place and saw the exterior of the building I have to admit I didn’t feel any better, but I ventured on. I walked in and went up the thread bare steps to the desk upon the person there simply gave me a ratty looking key, small towel the size of a large washcloth, and a huge white sheet. No instruction but a door to my right that I went through. I entered another world. Women young and old, fat, flabby, loose skin, saggy boobs, large bellies that hung very low, perky boobs, droopy bums, round bums, thick waists, skinny waists; and they are all walking around with no self consciousness. It was wonderful! Not a person complained about their bodies. Of course we are women, and we always talk about dieting, unfortunately, it is still a topic in this environment. But it was so refreshing to see women embrace the bodies that they have. All walking around naked, laughing, talking and with no judgment for the other women around them. Such acceptance.

The large sheet that you are given is to wrap up when you go to the snack lounge for some junk food, chicken salad, water, vending machines. I have to admit: it would be gross to eat with a naked woman across from you or naked anyone for that matter.

I have taken colleagues, and even my sister, Jane, to this place. Jane was under duress but, just like me, the minute she went through the door on the right. This place is a haven that is inexpensive. You go there and embrace the body that you have, get a fabulous steam, sauna, and hot tub for as long as you want to stay for $15.00. You can add an hour massage for $30.00 more. With tip you can spend an entire day for $55.00 with tip! There is also a naked Mexican lady that gives you a salt scrub if you are so inclined. I will tell you I took part in this salt scrub after going for 5 years. Once I did though it felt really good even though her naked boob would graze me every once in a while (eeeewwww).

The question remains, however, why can we accept our bodies in the presence of other women who are also baring it all? Is it that we are all saying here I am with all my physical imperfections, and I know that you have them too. I find this to be very interesting.

It Has Arrived....Finally!

2008-12-09T23:46:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday I was getting ready for work when I suddenly began shaking and felt weak. I sat down on my futon, and without warning a serge of heat ran through my body and out the top of my head. My hair got damp with sweat and then cool due to the perspiration, but it was strictly at my roots. It was one of the weirdest things I've felt in a very long time. I know you that have experienced this know exactly what I just had but for those of you that don't; it was my first hot flash; marking the entrance into menopause. I say YAHOO! I have been waiting for this since I started my period at the tender age of 12 or 13. I truly hated having a monthly bother to my life. I was a tomboy, and these monthly episodes robbed me of my athletic abilities (what little I possessed), made me moody beyond comprehension, and I felt physically miserable to boot; not to mention the messiness of it all.

Now at 12 or 13 I thought I'd have children so I endured. Then when I reached 35, and I had been divorced for nearly 10 years, and there were no real prospects of a serious relationship my period really became intrusive to me. I felt that I was never going to really utilize my eggs, ovaries, or uterus for anything, and I really became resentful of my damn menstrual cycle. If I were never going to really use it then I didn't want to be bothered by it anymore. I remained hopeful that I'd have children but at 40 I no longer wanted children. I know how hard kids are, and let's face it, I became selfish in my old age and I didn't want to be nearly 60 at my first child's high school graduation. Now for 6 years I've really been waiting for signs of menopause. Menopause would indicate that my monthly "visitor" would stop coming by to say hello. Hell I've already started growing hair on my face (I've actually thought about joining a freak show as the bearded lady) so let's get this thing over with. Let menopause begin so these ovaries can dry up, and I no longer have to be at the mercy of tampons, pads, or panty liners (maybe the liners have to stay, but that's another essay).

I say toast menopause! Our lives (set by society norms) as women, are: 1) Learn to be adorable little girls with cute charming ways (I failed here), 2) Learn to be attractive so that we can find a partner and reproduce, 3) Reproduce whether you choose to do it traditionally with or without a companion, 4) be mothers, and finally 5) Go through menopause. Which means our bellies will get thick, we will grow beards, age will give us wrinkles and it is time to PAR-TAE! Eat, drink and be merry because being gorgeous is for the young, and the minute you have to struggle to be beautiful, and spend an exponential amount of money on beauty products and the gym really means you should take all that money plus the money you save from not purchasing feminine hygiene products, and purchase and eat cake! Lots and lots of cake. Whatever you enjoy doing; do it with vim and vigor! I love eating! I love NOT working out! I love and adore watching television. I'm not a big lover of alcohol but I like to imbibe now and then. Plus if you are able to maintain your libido go, go, go! You no longer have to worry about pregnancy! I'm not advocating unsafe sex but if you know your partner then you don't have to worry about birth control…another something to save money on that you can put to your cake purchases!
Ladies, go fearlessly and vibrantly into "that goodnight"! Here's to menopause (visualize that I'm raising my cake and toasting the computer screen). Life is just beginning!

Existential Corner or Something to Think About

2008-12-09T23:34:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, surely I can't look that old. Then read on:

My name is Alice Smith and I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I notices his DDS diploma, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haiared boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 30-odd years ago.

Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on, way back then? Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to hve been my classmate. After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School. 'Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang,' HE gleamed with pride.

'When did you graduate?' I asked. He answered, 'in 1975. Why do you ask?'

'You were in my class!', I exclaimed. He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, old, bald, wrinkled, fat ass, gray-haired, decrepit son-of-a-bitch asked....."WHAT DID YOU TEACH ???"

Sisterly Wisdom

2008-12-09T23:31:00.000-07:00

The Reality of Vegas

My sister has been taking yearly trips to Las Vegas with my brother, Jack, for about 3 years. This year she has said it is her last trip. They go for the drag races, and she says that she can only see cars go around in circles so many times and for so many years before she gets bored….REALLY; is the only thing I can think. Geezus, I would have nixed this trip after the first half-hour of the first year! Anyway Jane doesn't want to be away from her grandsons on Halloween and that has been when the drags have been the last couple of years…good excuse right?

This year she was astounded at the soullessness of the city. She took public transportation so she could be independent of my brother. She was absolutely shocked at what she saw. There was a woman that was quite pregnant riding the bus, probably on her way to the hospital to deliver, when the woman asked her brother for a fifth of vodka which the brother more than willingly gave to her. My sister's mouth hung open, and then it pursed in disgust. This woman was OBVIOUSLY PREGNANT! She moved on from that, but she discovered a lot of drunkenness, homelessness, poverty, and addiction of every sort. Now, get this; the thing that bothered her the most wasn't the fact that these people were drunks, addicts or homeless, but for God's sake; why did they have to be LITTERBUGS!!! She didn't judge the fact that people were choosing to abuse whatever they chose to abuse but the fact that they were litterbugs was inexcusable! She kills me, and I love her.

A Poet's Place

2008-12-09T23:20:00.000-07:00

Awakening
by Jaidene Anderlini

His breath lays down.
Quiet dawn
Strikes the window
and
His breath lays down

Next to yesterday
and all the days before.
Battered words of axes
Slice through tomorrow
and
His breath lays down

Every morning, every dawn and
every dusk
Stretches out over my body;
Until
Quiet dawn
Strikes the window
and
I hear.

Is It Mid-life?
by Jaidene Anderlini

I feel my essence slip.
Where is it going?
I don’t know
It just is.

Dreams of love disappear
in the crags of my face.
And I no longer believe
that love will be mine.
Time, like leaves slips
From my grasp
And my fingers grow
Crooked with age.

I waited for my life to begin,
and now it is half spent.
Spent on frivolous hopes,
and endless dreams
until I no longer can dream.

Why Do We Take Men Clothing Shopping?

2008-10-22T12:41:00.000-06:00

I work in an industry where women come in to shop, and shop for, usually, quite awhile. It always surprises me when women walk in with their "trailors" (husbands, boyfriends, etc.). I am about to admit that I am sexist. Yes, friends, I am sexist. I am going to tell you right now most men don't give a rat's ass what you wear, and if they do they are usually out of date, cheap, and lack an understanding of current women's fashions. That isn't to say that you shouldn't care what your men like and dislike, but you should never sacrifice your own sense of style for anyone, and men especially. I have never seen so many men as bored as they are when some woman drags them out to shop for clothes. Women will try stuff on, come out of their fitting rooms, and more often than not ask what their significant other thinks, and they will inevitabley give some apathetic answer like: "you look fine" punctuated with a yawn or some kind of dry look when the woman disappears into the fitting room again. If women need an opinion that they can trust, if not a salesperson, take a girlfriend. Girlfriend's get women's fashions, understand the money it takes to dress, and actually give a rat's ass.

Now here is the sexist comment I just have to state: I will take the male gender when I need to shop for: a computer, television, tools, anything electrical, cars, plumbing, cell phones, outdoor gear, fishing poles, skiing gear, camping gear, snow shoeing, etc. plus these are things that most males want to shop for, and want to lay money the down.

Sisterly Wisdom

2008-10-22T12:37:00.000-06:00

So we have the upcoming elections between John MacCain and Barack Obama. My sister and I discuss the issues on our Sunday mornings. we've had some great discussions, and I was surprised to discover that my sister is one of those "undecided voters" that each party is trying to sway. I told her that she is just a spoiled child, and wants all the attention from both parties. we laugh.

I always thought that my sister was a devout republican, and I'm a registered democrat. We've pretty much avoided political discussions knowing that each other had different views. Jane has a son in the military, she lives in Utah (traditionally conservative state), and she works for the Utah Tax Commission. So, I just naturally assumed she was republican good or bad that is what I thought. Anyway we're talking politics and our concerns with the economy, gas prices, etc. and what each candidate has to say. Finally after a little while my sister states: "Oh hell. I don't believe in either party. I believe in the party of cake!"

That is one party we can all believe in. Cake may lead to obesity, and unhealthy conditions but it is awfully satisfying, and ultimately makes me feel better. Thank god for the party of cake

Existential Corner or Something to Think About

2008-10-22T11:55:00.000-06:00

Okay, I'm waiting for the bus on Colorado Boulevard. it is kind of a rough bus stop. It is on the corner of Colfax and Colorado in Denver, and you do get a broad range of people waiting for the bus. I'm waiting for the bus one sunday morning, and on this particular morning I feel like i'm the white gloved, purse lipped church lady brittely holding my belongings close to my body hoping not to be robbed. I rarely feel this way but the conversation among a lot of the future bus passengers was about when they got out of prison, and what they had served time for!
One such person had an interesting point of view on robbery which begged the question, for me, about ethics and moral codes.

Let me report the story of the young man at the bus stop, paraphrased of course: I went to prison for robbery man. It seriously wasn't my fault. This guy was on colfax, and talking to me and my friends when he took out his wallet and was fanning his money out in front of all of us. I robbed him, man. He needed to be taught a lesson. If I didn't rob him for being so stupid someone else would, and I say, why not me? He got off easy, man. If someone else would have robbed him he could have gotten really messed up. (of course there are a lot of expletives that I'm not at liberty to write but they do include a word that begins with f.)

I started thinking; was this guy being an opportunist, a teacher, a thug, or was he living by a code that I just didn't understand, and in his world it was perfectly acceptable? It appeared that the other people he was talking to seemed to think that this guy was doing a favor in robbing the guy with money, that he needed to be taught a lesson. this person at the bus stop was really a good guy. So then, where does our moral code come from? Is it religion, is it innate, is it our environment, is it the law or government? I believe that this person at the bus stop believed that he had a right to rob this stupid person, and on some level I kind of agree with him. If you don't take certain precautions I don't think you should be robbed or raped or even murdered, but I do think you need to be more aware of where you are, and what you are doing. We all make stupid mistakes with our personal safety, and we need to remember that there are people out there that live by a completely different moral code than what is "common", and they feel that it is their right to take advantage of a situation. They see absolutely nothing wrong with taking advantage of someone's stupidity. what do you think?

The Change (not necessarily menopausal)

2008-09-24T10:28:00.000-06:00

My niece, Annie, has two boys, and her last child was born in May. She was trying to figure out if she would like to have one more child so she may have the possibility of having a daughter. She has struggled with this decision, and has come to the conclusion that she is able to handle her two sons, her job (she's a nurse), and being a wife, and that is enough. In the mean time the following story is Annie's final straw and assisted in making her decision of stopping at two children clear for her:

I have not slept for over 4 months. I am not kidding. Sam, my newest addition to my family, has yet to sleep through the night, or even six hours. He usually gets up every 4-5 hours. Not to mention the times I get up to give him his binky so I don't have to feed him again. At first I thought: well he has been sick once he feels better he will sleep. NOT the case. Now, I think he might be teething. So not only is he up twice a night he no longer takes very good naps. So I get to enjoy Sam 24 hours a day without a break. I mean; I know he is cute, smiley and laughing a lot and who wouldn't want to spend 24 hours a day with him? ME! That's who. It would be nice to have at least 10 mintues to myself.

This weekend I thought: why am I making such a big deal over not sleeping? Sam is our last baby so I should enjoy the time I get to spend with him, eventually he won't need me as much and he is growing up so fast. I thought I will have a positive attitude and enjoy getting up with Sam, he is very precious. Well that was the Annie that had sleep. Positive, thinking who needs sleep. That previous night was our anniversary so we had left the boys overnight and I had received a great nights sleep. So the morning came and I was all missing my boys and grateful that I could spend time with them. Well obviously that has worn off. I NEED MY SLEEP!! I mean; how much time do you really need to spend with your kids? Seriously I barely have time to eat, and sometimes I don't eat until dinner. The constant tiredness, irritability and my short temper I blame on the lack of sleep.

As I am writing this short blog I hear Sam crying. Surprise, surprise it has been less than 30 minutes and he his up from his nap. Okay seriously I am going insane. I think I shall curl up in the fetal position and cry. Anyone is welcome to join me, misery loves company. Please excuse my bad attitude, I am happy that I have my boys and I do have a great time spending time with them, but sometimes being a mother is too dang hard!

A Poet's Place

2008-09-24T10:17:00.000-06:00

at fifty

by Maurine S. Taylor

it's an acquired taste
this life
and I make no apologies
for it
or the bologna, potato chip
on Wonder bread smothered
with mayo sandwich
of my childhood
and sometimes still

I'm no longer concerned
with breathing in iambic pentameter
just breathing
my face flush with pleasure
after having just made love
twice in one morning
will I love you forever?
the point is I love you right now

I set my watch by the truth
that every afternoon between
five and six I will pass first
the woman on the corner lot
spreading birdseed on her fence
and then a mile down the road
her neighbor chipping golf balls
across his yard into
an ever growing pile of white

they have chosen to fill their minutes
with what makes them happy
I choose to fill mine the same

it's an acquired taste
this life
and I make no apologies
for it

mannequin

by Maurine S. Taylor

can I put you on
assume your being
slip into your face
must I content myself
window shopping
nose pressed against
the glass (blowing hot
breath on the cold pane
between us) watching
it disappear like night
dreams in early morn

A Poet's Place

2008-08-15T14:40:00.000-06:00

I have some friends that like to write poetry so I've decided to give them a voice. I do have to admit that I've asked them for submissions but they didn't get it them in to me so here are a few poems that I've written in the past:

As I Sit Homeless

by Jaidene Anderlini

As I sit homeless
In L.A.X.
I watch destinations,
Goals, and aspirations
saunter down
concourses and disappear.
They don’t disappear
into blackness they
merely evaporate into
unquestioned apathy.
I hear dreams paged
echoing in corridors,
And remain.
Vibrations in the mind’s
empty halls.
It’s a dream of fruitless
expectations floating
like a menagerie
in front of the
shame of me.

and one more,

Surreal Beauty
by
Jaidene Anderlini

Bruising the eyes
Winking
Marching, swaying,
Twisting,
turn,turn
bow, bow,
smile, smile
Simulate
The look of mirrors.
Face lifts rise.
Skinny shadows of humans
Runway ghosts
laughing, laughing,
pointing, pointing,
dancing, dancing
Bemused by
Broken mirrors.

Please, if there is anthing you would like to contribute I would love for you to send it to jaidenea@msn.com, and if I feel that it is appropriate I would enjoy giving you a voice too.

Armpit Flab...forget about it!

2008-08-15T14:22:00.000-06:00

Addendum to this month's "Ridiculous Perceptions...."

I cannot believe that women have now created another thing to worry about! The fleshy part of your skin when your arms at your sides. Without this little piece of skin forget about raising your arms above your head, flagging a taxi, waving hello, lifting weights, or your fork.

I actually read an article in August 2008 Vogue that was about this new malady that we've decided is something to worry about. I was so happy to to read a plastic surgeon by the name of Dr. Haidh Hirmand when asked about plastic surgery respond:

"Honestly, it's not worth it. It is what it is. Probably most people aren't as
focused on the little fold as much as you are..." and "The best thing I know to
do for it, honestly, is nothing."
I say let's stop looking for things physically to worry about! Stop it, stop it, stop it!

A Fellow Old and Bitter

2008-08-15T14:13:00.000-06:00

http://www.americancowgirl.com/film.htm

This is what I'm talkin' about!

The Change (not necessarily menopausal)

2008-08-15T12:26:00.000-06:00

This is a new addition to my blog. I want to implement small or big acts of courage that my friends and readers have done to keep themselves alive. This first one is about my friend and neighbor, Kelly Ozley. She is a woman I met through my work, and a woman for whom I have a lot of admiration. She is my age and has taken on the challenge of having a family as a single parent and adopted a baby girl from Moldova, Russia. Kelly is very prim and proper and her home, in the past, has always been perfect. When she told me she was going to adopt a baby I thought oh man good luck with that you Southern Princess. Here is her story written in her own words:

I am a hard working professional saleswoman. I work my ass off most days, but generally enjoy it. At 45 it was a little late to start a family, but I decided it was time, and that I would adopt. I was in a relationship with a tall handsome man who was not cutting the mustard, couldn't give me the family I so wanted, and somehow I got the courage to kick his ass out.

Let me just say I was as prepared as I could be to adopt, and still had no idea what I was getting myself into. I did my research (because I am about as anal as they come). This thing (the adoption)took off like Big Brown at the Kentucky Derby. Within 7 months Landon, my adopted daughter, was home and I was a nutbag.

I had started my preparations late because I thought I had 15 months. I started my trek to various baby stores for required items, starting with the crib. I gave the store manager my money and began to lift my crib to take it home. The manager said "oh no, that will be 10 weeks at least; we have to order it". What the hell – I have a PO here. This was probably the first of many attempts on my part to control a completely uncontrollable situation.

My referral came labor day weekend 2007. I was not prepared (do you see a pattern here?). I had her (Landon) on schedule for March 2008. She did not get that memo – already a fast tracker. First trip to Moldova to meet her was October 2007. One week of crappy food - they put mayonnaise (a disgusting condiment in my opinion, but of course I have issues with basically all white condiments – more on my personal issues at another time) on everything. Yuk! My first experience out of the U.S., and definitely first experience peeing directly on the floor. I am a Southern girl for God’s sake. The second trip was November 25, 2007 (the day after Thanksgiving), and I was bringing home my new daughter. My dad went with me. He was so excited I thought he was going to pee in his pants. We got home on November 29, and nothing since has been the same. How did formula get on my boob? I am not nursing. How did so much chaos come in to my otherwise pristine home? Why are there baby boogers on my nice sweater?

What I know for sure is that I was really not prepared, and that this turned my life upside down. That’s a good thing. I think its good to shake things up. Now I can say for sure I wear a lot more baseball caps and that my nails are not always perfect. Guess what. It doesn’t matter. Landon is happy. I am happy and life is way more full. She has given me an excuse to be silly. I dance and sing, and not well I might add and guess what – it doesn’t matter. We laugh and make funny noises – it’s the best. Probably my favorite sound in the world now is her laughter. Do I have it all together – absolutely NOT. Do I care – well sometimes. Was it worth it – a thousand times over. I am happy to share more of my experience with anyone. In fact you should probably catch me before I go again, and get her a brother. I think Landon has made a huge difference in my life. Also frankly listening to my gut (call it God or whatever works for you). You always know the direction to go if you slow down long enough to listen to yourself (and that is a message to me as much as anyone else). I think when we honor that internal call to act – it only takes us closer to who we really are (or want to be).

Existential Corner (something to think about)

2008-08-15T11:07:00.000-06:00

About three weeks ago I went to the grocery after work. I was ravenous so I simply grabbed some stuff for a salad and went to the self check out. Self check out has been around for several years but my grocery store just implemented it within the past month or so. There were people in front of me that are using it for the first time (I know, they must be from a third world country), and were really slow. Some of them had huge baskets of groceries; a month's worth from the looks of it. Okay fine. I'm thinking that everyone should 1) already know how to use the self check out and 2) it is understood to be used by people that have one or two items or at most have a small hand held basket full of items. NOT a month's worth of groceries.

My assumptions were incorrect as it would appear, and not only that there was a mother with two children allowing her seven year old daughter learn how to use the system! Remember I am ravenous, and I just got done working with the public, on my feet, on concrete floors for eight-and-one-half hours, so I am beginning to lose my patience.

I decide to go to a manned express lane, and I say something sarcastic which I'm bound to do sometimes when I'm trying to keep it together. I said something like: "I'm all for teaching your children, but when there is a line behind you waiting maybe you should tell little Susie that we should learn about the process when the store isn't so busy." I then punctuated it with a smile.

A woman in front of me turned to me and said: "Maybe she's teaching little Susie that it doesn't matter that impatient people are behind her and they can simply wait their turn."

Given the mood I was in I was actually still able to see the error of my thinking and I even said so to this woman. I do have to admit afterwards that this incident did raise the question: what was really being taught to this child:

that she and her family are the only people in this world
she didn't need to think of others and therefore lack courtesy
or simply, how to use the self check out

I also had to ask myself: why were my needs any more important then her learning how to use the check out?

Was any one person right or wrong in this situation? Let me know what you think.