Sex Toys, Part One: Suppliers and Materials
6 days ago
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
Tagged
I love Jake’s you’ve been tagged! What incredible fun we've had at Novel Investigations http://www.jcarsonblack.com/index.php/?p=244#comments and Murder She Writes http://www.murdershewrites.com/ with Jake's tag.
Here’s what you do. Pick the fact number of mine below you think is the lie, then write five facts about yourself, one being false, and we guess which one is the lie. In return I'm tagging Mary Lisa and Rose...
1) I got run over by a police officer
2) I use to own a monkey, but I always wanted an ostrich
3) I was seranaded by George Winston on my 50th birthday
4) I learned to surf went I was twelve
5) I applied for Martha Graham when I was in high school
Here’s what you do. Pick the fact number of mine below you think is the lie, then write five facts about yourself, one being false, and we guess which one is the lie. In return I'm tagging Mary Lisa and Rose...
1) I got run over by a police officer
2) I use to own a monkey, but I always wanted an ostrich
3) I was seranaded by George Winston on my 50th birthday
4) I learned to surf went I was twelve
5) I applied for Martha Graham when I was in high school
It’s Halloween, Get Over It
Every year the radio station I work for holds the Great Pumpkin Giveaway. We find a merchant to host the festivities, and we give away 11 thousand pounds of pumpkins. This all came about because we went on the air October 31st 1988.
For 18 years we’ve celebrated our anniversary with pumpkins, hot dogs, giveaways, and the Monster Mash. But this year something interesting happened. Something appalling. Something so perverse that it makes my skin crawl (now isn’t that fitting for the season?) Our advertiser found religion. Yep, and kudos to them I pray every night for people to find the love and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. So when our ad ran in the local rag, replete with ghost and ghouls, bats and pumpkins there was a total up roar by our ad rep on behalf of the advertiser. Now suddenly, after years of hosting this fun HALLOWEEN event, they want it to be a “Harvest Party.”
Following this announcement, the voices streaming out from behind closed doors were REALLY, REALLY LOUD.
For 18 years this has been about Halloween and giving away pumpkins. The kids and the parents who show up eager for the largest pumpkin they can carry, aren’t there to get pumpkins for mom’s pie making (although homemade pumpkin pie is da’ bomb.) No, they are there to get jack-o-lantern pumpkins for Halloween night trick ‘r treating. Hello! These aren’t Satan worshipers. These aren’t little kids who are thinking about the after life – or possible lack there of. These aren’t little kids who weigh the balance of Jesus Christ and reincarnation. These are little kids in search of candy and wearing the best costume on the block. No religion involved. And that is how it should be. Religious fanatics – get over yourselves.
Yes, the foundations of Halloween lie in medieval tradition. The Celtic celebration of a new year. The Roman tributes to the Goddess Pomona. The Catholic tradition of All Saint’s Day. Traditions that have little to do with the DEAD.LIMBO.AFTER.LIFE. And definitely not in the way we today believe. Not the ghoulish embellishments of Hollywood, campfire spook stories, nor the Horror / Dark Fantasy genre. During the Dark Ages, encouraged by both Celtic and Catholic belief, living people (obviously, because if they were dead people I’d have to rethink my position) would extinguish their home fires, dress in scary costume, and loudly walk the streets. Why? Well to ward off the spirit world or bad spirits of winter, silly. I mean think about it. What right-minded spirit would want to live in a cold dark cottage inhabiting the body of a loud, drab man?
Over time traditions and beliefs have altered, melded with one another, and changed altogether. Enlightenment in the Western world ended the belief of spirit possession around All Hallows Eve. And while children to this day dress up in spooky garb begging for treats at each door, much like the soul cakes of the ninth century, our values connected to Halloween have been severed with the past. Today it is about fun. About scaring each other. And most importantly of all it is about CANDY. Lots of teeth rotting, fat producing, sugar high…
CANDY. So why in the last few years is it suddenly an affront to some Christians for anyone to enjoy Halloween? That adorable little tyke in the pink tutu isn’t thinking, I want to be a blood sucking zombie when I grow up (although it could be a possibility.) No, she is thinking. Wow, I hope they have the big candy bars, and not just stupid gumballs. When I was a kid, my church put on the best Halloween party, replete with cider, apple bobbing, candy, and costumes. I especially love the slide into the basement classroom through crepe streamer hanging down in the dark. Those women rocked.
In the seventies and eighties when people worried about the lunatics who laced popcorn balls, there was valid reasoning behind the fears. Today’s reasoning boggles my mind. When I say “Happy Halloween” to someone, I’m not thinking “Join with me and celebrate this non-Christian, non-holiday that extols the dead, the living dead, the undead, and the creep down the street.” No, I am saying. “Happy Halloween.” And thinking (sheesh, she’s 47 you’d think she’d get over the cheerleader phase because she definitely grew out of it. Next year she should use a walker and a shawl for her costume.)
OH! and I am also thinking, She better have good candy on her desk after she ate all my Tom’s peanut butter candies last year. And we all know it’s all about the CANDY.
Sith
Calista Cates
© October 2006
For 18 years we’ve celebrated our anniversary with pumpkins, hot dogs, giveaways, and the Monster Mash. But this year something interesting happened. Something appalling. Something so perverse that it makes my skin crawl (now isn’t that fitting for the season?) Our advertiser found religion. Yep, and kudos to them I pray every night for people to find the love and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. So when our ad ran in the local rag, replete with ghost and ghouls, bats and pumpkins there was a total up roar by our ad rep on behalf of the advertiser. Now suddenly, after years of hosting this fun HALLOWEEN event, they want it to be a “Harvest Party.”
Following this announcement, the voices streaming out from behind closed doors were REALLY, REALLY LOUD.
For 18 years this has been about Halloween and giving away pumpkins. The kids and the parents who show up eager for the largest pumpkin they can carry, aren’t there to get pumpkins for mom’s pie making (although homemade pumpkin pie is da’ bomb.) No, they are there to get jack-o-lantern pumpkins for Halloween night trick ‘r treating. Hello! These aren’t Satan worshipers. These aren’t little kids who are thinking about the after life – or possible lack there of. These aren’t little kids who weigh the balance of Jesus Christ and reincarnation. These are little kids in search of candy and wearing the best costume on the block. No religion involved. And that is how it should be. Religious fanatics – get over yourselves.
Yes, the foundations of Halloween lie in medieval tradition. The Celtic celebration of a new year. The Roman tributes to the Goddess Pomona. The Catholic tradition of All Saint’s Day. Traditions that have little to do with the DEAD.LIMBO.AFTER.LIFE. And definitely not in the way we today believe. Not the ghoulish embellishments of Hollywood, campfire spook stories, nor the Horror / Dark Fantasy genre. During the Dark Ages, encouraged by both Celtic and Catholic belief, living people (obviously, because if they were dead people I’d have to rethink my position) would extinguish their home fires, dress in scary costume, and loudly walk the streets. Why? Well to ward off the spirit world or bad spirits of winter, silly. I mean think about it. What right-minded spirit would want to live in a cold dark cottage inhabiting the body of a loud, drab man?
Over time traditions and beliefs have altered, melded with one another, and changed altogether. Enlightenment in the Western world ended the belief of spirit possession around All Hallows Eve. And while children to this day dress up in spooky garb begging for treats at each door, much like the soul cakes of the ninth century, our values connected to Halloween have been severed with the past. Today it is about fun. About scaring each other. And most importantly of all it is about CANDY. Lots of teeth rotting, fat producing, sugar high…
CANDY. So why in the last few years is it suddenly an affront to some Christians for anyone to enjoy Halloween? That adorable little tyke in the pink tutu isn’t thinking, I want to be a blood sucking zombie when I grow up (although it could be a possibility.) No, she is thinking. Wow, I hope they have the big candy bars, and not just stupid gumballs. When I was a kid, my church put on the best Halloween party, replete with cider, apple bobbing, candy, and costumes. I especially love the slide into the basement classroom through crepe streamer hanging down in the dark. Those women rocked.
In the seventies and eighties when people worried about the lunatics who laced popcorn balls, there was valid reasoning behind the fears. Today’s reasoning boggles my mind. When I say “Happy Halloween” to someone, I’m not thinking “Join with me and celebrate this non-Christian, non-holiday that extols the dead, the living dead, the undead, and the creep down the street.” No, I am saying. “Happy Halloween.” And thinking (sheesh, she’s 47 you’d think she’d get over the cheerleader phase because she definitely grew out of it. Next year she should use a walker and a shawl for her costume.)
OH! and I am also thinking, She better have good candy on her desk after she ate all my Tom’s peanut butter candies last year. And we all know it’s all about the CANDY.
Sith
Calista Cates
© October 2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
Me Me X3
I wasn't tagged but I love to play along, so thank you for the blanket tag
Mary Lisa
3 smells that I love:
Vanilla
The house after baking Gingerbread
The Ocean
3 smells that I hate:
Car fumes
Dead Skunk in the middle of anywhere
Stale fast food in a closed car. LM wrote it, she’s totally right
3 jobs I've had in my life:
Groom
Hairdresser
DJ
3 movies that I could watch over and over:
Love Actually
Sense and Sensibility (well anything Jane Austen)
The Mirror Has Two Faces
3 fond memories:
The birth of my grandson (It hurt a lot less than having his mother)
Dancing on my father’s feet
Saturday morning strolls and donuts with my grandfather (I miss him so much)
3 jobs I would love to have:
Groom
Book Editor
DJ (Oh, wait I am a DJ)
3 places I have lived:
California
Oregon
Germany
3 things I like to do:
Spend time with my husband – He is my best friend
Play with Benjamin and Arlo
Critique books
3 of my favorite foods:
Guacamole
Rare steak
Ice Cream (no wonder my butt has it’s own zip code)
3 places I would like to be right now:
In England
In Germany
With friends laughing
3 websites I visit daily:
Trapped by Mormons - http://www.nataliercollins.com/weblog/
Murder She Writes - http://www.murdershewrites.com/
Only three, oh mi gosh - http://sistermarylisa.blogspot.com/ this is my latest blog to add but interesting a fun
3 things that make me cry
Hatred
Good movies / The ending of Ghost Whisperer
The awesomeness of God
3 friends that I would tag but I’m not because…well mine was only a blanket tag…
Natalie – who needs a break now that she’s hit deadline
Jake – who should write a book called They Met Only Once it would be a best seller and the movie would garner Oscars
You
Cele 13 October 2006
Mary Lisa
3 smells that I love:
Vanilla
The house after baking Gingerbread
The Ocean
3 smells that I hate:
Car fumes
Dead Skunk in the middle of anywhere
Stale fast food in a closed car. LM wrote it, she’s totally right
3 jobs I've had in my life:
Groom
Hairdresser
DJ
3 movies that I could watch over and over:
Love Actually
Sense and Sensibility (well anything Jane Austen)
The Mirror Has Two Faces
3 fond memories:
The birth of my grandson (It hurt a lot less than having his mother)
Dancing on my father’s feet
Saturday morning strolls and donuts with my grandfather (I miss him so much)
3 jobs I would love to have:
Groom
Book Editor
DJ (Oh, wait I am a DJ)
3 places I have lived:
California
Oregon
Germany
3 things I like to do:
Spend time with my husband – He is my best friend
Play with Benjamin and Arlo
Critique books
3 of my favorite foods:
Guacamole
Rare steak
Ice Cream (no wonder my butt has it’s own zip code)
3 places I would like to be right now:
In England
In Germany
With friends laughing
3 websites I visit daily:
Trapped by Mormons - http://www.nataliercollins.com/weblog/
Murder She Writes - http://www.murdershewrites.com/
Only three, oh mi gosh - http://sistermarylisa.blogspot.com/ this is my latest blog to add but interesting a fun
3 things that make me cry
Hatred
Good movies / The ending of Ghost Whisperer
The awesomeness of God
3 friends that I would tag but I’m not because…well mine was only a blanket tag…
Natalie – who needs a break now that she’s hit deadline
Jake – who should write a book called They Met Only Once it would be a best seller and the movie would garner Oscars
You
Cele 13 October 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Did they die for naught? The day after five years later
I’m having a hard time. Yesterday was the commemoration of the anniversary of 9 / 11 five years ago. People continue to remember and mourn. That’s not so bad, but let’s move on. My friends blogged about the five years since the tragedy. It’s an outlet of thought. They share how it affected them, their lives, their thoughts. They network, we share, we bond, and many of us grow. Radio stations played patriotic songs. Mine did too. TV gave us video journals, replaying the black smoky death of that beautiful September day. And the President pontificated in his political glory attempting to, once again, make right our assault on Iraq and Sadam Hussein. History looks back, and life stops.
I fervently believe in learning from the past, relying on my upbringing and faith to get me through yesterday and today’s messes then moving forward. Our memory of that fateful September morning is one of loss, tragedy, and for many it’s the fire that renews their hatred and need for revenge. For me it was, oh gosh to steal a quote from the Bush administration, “Shock and Awe.” I am shocked at our inability to get over it, and dumb founded in awed that in the US one hand still does not talk to the other hand. In our more than two hundred years of being hated for our arrogance, wealth, and ingenuity and we have learned nothing.
Would having learned have in those two hundred years have changed the events on that crystal clear, blue, and sunny morning five years ago? I’m sure it wouldn’t have. But maybe we would have responded differently. I am Quaker, and yet I understand a government finds the need to strike back at one’s enemy on the battle ground in an effort to defend life, property, and freedoms. I do not believe in this war against terror…ism. I do understand why our President moved against the Afghanistan based Osama Bin Laden and Al Queda. Beyond that I have no keening as to why our government has turned into a bully, the self proclaimed world police, Bubba on the block.
Instead of learning about our world neighbors, our friends, and opponents we insist on being blind. We believe everyone should be like us, think like us, dress like us, worship like us, look like us, and join in our merry way of life. But is it so merry? Is our civilization so much better? Our society so polite? Yes and No! We, and not singularly, believe we can solve our problems with western thought. Middle Eastern tribes have not a western thought in their head. Millenniums of their tribal mores, norms, and rule to not allow for western thought. To be better the golden rule I live each day of my life needs to take a bit of a bender. We as a government need to learn, to understand, and not treat them as we’d wish to be treated ourselves, but as they would treat themselves and in understanding, us. We need to think tribal. It won’t happen because the western world has a bigger picture in mind that is as antiquated in their understanding of this world’s peoples as the tribes of the near, middle, and far East. I pray for us, the U.S.
So I mourn my nation that I love so much. I am silently in the minority. Appalled by this war, appalled by a President who uses the nation’s circumstances to further his own hate filled agenda, and what has become a national day of mourning to further his stance on why we went to war against Iraq. I silently listen to those who don’t understand my position and give them their five minutes to loudly exclaim theirs. I thank my friends who have offered up their blogs as an outlet to mourn the past and those who have gone before.
Try to remember that what the surface shows is not always the basis of truth. The adage “Walk a mile in their shoes” holds so much more weight than we heed.
I would like to ask you to look at your family, to love them, to listen, and to remember this maybe your last day to tell them what they mean to you. Say hello to your neighbors. Wear a smile today, wear it again tomorrow if you get that opportunity. And keep in mind that TODAY could be your last physical day on this earth, would you be leaving it with your lose ends neatly laundered? I’m not talking about your bills, your will, or the current battle with the Land Use Board of Appeals or the IRS, I’m talking about God and those about you, even those far away. Learn from 9/11 communicate, love, and validate the people in your life, the people you touch purposely and inadvertently. Share of yourself with a smile. Give of yourself with joy.
© Celebrindal 12 September 2006
I fervently believe in learning from the past, relying on my upbringing and faith to get me through yesterday and today’s messes then moving forward. Our memory of that fateful September morning is one of loss, tragedy, and for many it’s the fire that renews their hatred and need for revenge. For me it was, oh gosh to steal a quote from the Bush administration, “Shock and Awe.” I am shocked at our inability to get over it, and dumb founded in awed that in the US one hand still does not talk to the other hand. In our more than two hundred years of being hated for our arrogance, wealth, and ingenuity and we have learned nothing.
Would having learned have in those two hundred years have changed the events on that crystal clear, blue, and sunny morning five years ago? I’m sure it wouldn’t have. But maybe we would have responded differently. I am Quaker, and yet I understand a government finds the need to strike back at one’s enemy on the battle ground in an effort to defend life, property, and freedoms. I do not believe in this war against terror…ism. I do understand why our President moved against the Afghanistan based Osama Bin Laden and Al Queda. Beyond that I have no keening as to why our government has turned into a bully, the self proclaimed world police, Bubba on the block.
Instead of learning about our world neighbors, our friends, and opponents we insist on being blind. We believe everyone should be like us, think like us, dress like us, worship like us, look like us, and join in our merry way of life. But is it so merry? Is our civilization so much better? Our society so polite? Yes and No! We, and not singularly, believe we can solve our problems with western thought. Middle Eastern tribes have not a western thought in their head. Millenniums of their tribal mores, norms, and rule to not allow for western thought. To be better the golden rule I live each day of my life needs to take a bit of a bender. We as a government need to learn, to understand, and not treat them as we’d wish to be treated ourselves, but as they would treat themselves and in understanding, us. We need to think tribal. It won’t happen because the western world has a bigger picture in mind that is as antiquated in their understanding of this world’s peoples as the tribes of the near, middle, and far East. I pray for us, the U.S.
So I mourn my nation that I love so much. I am silently in the minority. Appalled by this war, appalled by a President who uses the nation’s circumstances to further his own hate filled agenda, and what has become a national day of mourning to further his stance on why we went to war against Iraq. I silently listen to those who don’t understand my position and give them their five minutes to loudly exclaim theirs. I thank my friends who have offered up their blogs as an outlet to mourn the past and those who have gone before.
Try to remember that what the surface shows is not always the basis of truth. The adage “Walk a mile in their shoes” holds so much more weight than we heed.
I would like to ask you to look at your family, to love them, to listen, and to remember this maybe your last day to tell them what they mean to you. Say hello to your neighbors. Wear a smile today, wear it again tomorrow if you get that opportunity. And keep in mind that TODAY could be your last physical day on this earth, would you be leaving it with your lose ends neatly laundered? I’m not talking about your bills, your will, or the current battle with the Land Use Board of Appeals or the IRS, I’m talking about God and those about you, even those far away. Learn from 9/11 communicate, love, and validate the people in your life, the people you touch purposely and inadvertently. Share of yourself with a smile. Give of yourself with joy.
© Celebrindal 12 September 2006
Friday, April 14, 2006
One Hundred Things About Me
1) I live in heaven
2) I'm not that interesting
3) which is not good if you're a DJ
4) I have the best job in the world - except when the computers break down
5) I had to be drug - knuckles scrapping the floor - into the computer world
6) Since then my boss has come to believe he created a monster - "IT'S ALIVE!"
7) My named - Screamed in total desparation at full volume - means
"Calista BRING YOUR TOOLS my computer did it again"
8) Yes I have a toolbox
9) Fixing what they broke and other maintainence beyond a man's realm of capability. (This includes lightbulbs, toilet paper, taking out the trash, and slaying ants.)
10) You may have noted I've become sexist.
11) I dislike those who hate
12) They makes my head spin and I want to hurl
13) Well except snakes - maybe this should be number 1
14) I do hate snakes - but realize they have a meaningful purpose in the world
15) My fear for snakes colours everything I do outside
16) Except for the morning I walked into my second floor office and found a Anaconda under my desk
17) I try very hard not to lie
18) I called Debbie's son to come get it for me.
19) Debbie did it herself - cooing to it. I lie not. I wasn't shamed.
20) My first boyfriend was Ronnie - he got away - we never did it
21) I've been married three times
22) This totally colours who I am
23) and supplies me with endless standup comedy - most aren't amused
24) My mother, father, and daughter are constant inspiration
25) My boyfriend is Ben, he's 4 years old, he has the best kisses
26) My husband is the world's best whiner - he's proud of this ability
27) and he never fails to make me laugh
28) I can tell my husband anything - he likes Ben's kisses too.
29) He's Oregon Duck fan, he collects ducks - I call him Ducky
30) He calls me Fritzi
31) My motto is - Where you have been is who you are.
32) This truism colours my life and perspective
33) I always want to know what makes a person tick
34) A reason is not an excuse - its motivation
35) I am Quaker in my faith - this definately colours who I am
36) Ducky is not. He doesn't always see eye to eye with me
37) I don't believe in organized religion
38) I don't understand why people think God has enough time on his hands to do something personally to them
39) Do they understand there are almost 7 Billion people on the face of the earth? I do.
40) He's got more important things to do that run my nylons, which run a lot
41) So I switched to black tights
42) I use to wonder why older European women always wore black tights
43) Now I know - even thought I'm American
44) I wore a size 8, just 8 years ago
45) Gosh, that's discouraging. Now I wear a size double elastic waist
46) I gained 25 pounds the first month I quit smoking
47) Everytime I try to diet I gain 10 pounds
48) Then I became pre-menosal. So if I wasn't menopausal before now, wasn't I still premenosal?
49) Then came the hot flashes. More weight gain.
50) My present age
51) While it is fodder for stand up comedy, I will weight 400 pounds by 2020. Zager and Evans didn't count on that.
52) Things I miss - wearing a bikini, wearing mini skirts, first kisses
53) I have never met my bestest friend. Never
54) I have several best friends. My husband, my mother, my daughter.
55) but Emma Rose is my Bestest friend.
56) She is like the other half of my sisterly soul
57) But we are way different and just alike
58) My sister is one of my best friends too, and so is my sister in law - they are awesome women
59) People I someday want to met face to face. Jesus. Emma Rose. Natalie R. and Peggy
60) They are awesome and inspire me.
61) I've been to Mexico, Germany, England, Scottland, the Netherlands, and France.
62) I want to go to Canada, Australia, and Ireland, and the others but not France.
63) Ducky has never traveled anywhere. LUCKY ME!
64) Don't buy Mickey D's in other countries. But definately have Spatzlè and Goulash Soup at the Hofbraü Haus in Munich
65) Or fish n' chips in Adebrugh
66) I like tofu.
67) But not as much as Tempeh
68) I have a basset hound
69) Arlo is the first dog to fetch consistantly for me
70) He weighs 70 pounds and thinks he's a lap dog - he is a great lap warmer.
71) Arlo is a great companion
72) I'm a left over sweetheart
73) George Winston serenaded me with his guitar. He played raindrops,
Bonèpart's Retreat, and darn a song I can't remember
74) It was my birthday
75) He didn't know it
76) My favorite group is Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young
77) The best concert ever - the Eagles in Münich - I was suddenly homesick
78) I made a life long friend in Germany - Patty - she lives 8 hours from Rose
77) I miss my grandfather - he was very special - pipes make me think about him.
78) My eyes leak
79) I have two beautiful step daughters
80) I ♥ fresh brewed French Roast coffee
81) I hold it in my mouth and savor the flavor
82) I am a procrastinator
83) People don't believe this about me
84) I am incredibly shy. People don't believe this either
85) I can make myself do a lot of things.
86) But not if it involves snakes.
87) I can never be on Survivor or Fear Factor - until they have Survivor Ireland
88) I don't have a favorite movie
89) I have a lot of favorite books.
90) And even more favorite albums - don't minimize go with the whole disk
91) Music colours my life
92) The people who mean the most to me have songs that remind me of them
93) Even my childhood friends. I may not see my friends for decades, but they are ALWAYS in my heart and thoughts like we just parted - they are a song
94) I broke my foot parasailing - my tailbone playing softball - I've had three concussions all caused by animals.
95) I don't like talking on the telephone
96) The world is connected through email
97) I don't believe in prolonging a life outside of quality of life.
I DO NOT BELIEVE IN LIFE SUPPORT!
98) I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ
99) I cuss like - well really bad. POTTY MOUTH. I try not to.
100) I want to be cremated.
101) My IQ is 124
2) I'm not that interesting
3) which is not good if you're a DJ
4) I have the best job in the world - except when the computers break down
5) I had to be drug - knuckles scrapping the floor - into the computer world
6) Since then my boss has come to believe he created a monster - "IT'S ALIVE!"
7) My named - Screamed in total desparation at full volume - means
"Calista BRING YOUR TOOLS my computer did it again"
8) Yes I have a toolbox
9) Fixing what they broke and other maintainence beyond a man's realm of capability. (This includes lightbulbs, toilet paper, taking out the trash, and slaying ants.)
10) You may have noted I've become sexist.
11) I dislike those who hate
12) They makes my head spin and I want to hurl
13) Well except snakes - maybe this should be number 1
14) I do hate snakes - but realize they have a meaningful purpose in the world
15) My fear for snakes colours everything I do outside
16) Except for the morning I walked into my second floor office and found a Anaconda under my desk
17) I try very hard not to lie
18) I called Debbie's son to come get it for me.
19) Debbie did it herself - cooing to it. I lie not. I wasn't shamed.
20) My first boyfriend was Ronnie - he got away - we never did it
21) I've been married three times
22) This totally colours who I am
23) and supplies me with endless standup comedy - most aren't amused
24) My mother, father, and daughter are constant inspiration
25) My boyfriend is Ben, he's 4 years old, he has the best kisses
26) My husband is the world's best whiner - he's proud of this ability
27) and he never fails to make me laugh
28) I can tell my husband anything - he likes Ben's kisses too.
29) He's Oregon Duck fan, he collects ducks - I call him Ducky
30) He calls me Fritzi
31) My motto is - Where you have been is who you are.
32) This truism colours my life and perspective
33) I always want to know what makes a person tick
34) A reason is not an excuse - its motivation
35) I am Quaker in my faith - this definately colours who I am
36) Ducky is not. He doesn't always see eye to eye with me
37) I don't believe in organized religion
38) I don't understand why people think God has enough time on his hands to do something personally to them
39) Do they understand there are almost 7 Billion people on the face of the earth? I do.
40) He's got more important things to do that run my nylons, which run a lot
41) So I switched to black tights
42) I use to wonder why older European women always wore black tights
43) Now I know - even thought I'm American
44) I wore a size 8, just 8 years ago
45) Gosh, that's discouraging. Now I wear a size double elastic waist
46) I gained 25 pounds the first month I quit smoking
47) Everytime I try to diet I gain 10 pounds
48) Then I became pre-menosal. So if I wasn't menopausal before now, wasn't I still premenosal?
49) Then came the hot flashes. More weight gain.
50) My present age
51) While it is fodder for stand up comedy, I will weight 400 pounds by 2020. Zager and Evans didn't count on that.
52) Things I miss - wearing a bikini, wearing mini skirts, first kisses
53) I have never met my bestest friend. Never
54) I have several best friends. My husband, my mother, my daughter.
55) but Emma Rose is my Bestest friend.
56) She is like the other half of my sisterly soul
57) But we are way different and just alike
58) My sister is one of my best friends too, and so is my sister in law - they are awesome women
59) People I someday want to met face to face. Jesus. Emma Rose. Natalie R. and Peggy
60) They are awesome and inspire me.
61) I've been to Mexico, Germany, England, Scottland, the Netherlands, and France.
62) I want to go to Canada, Australia, and Ireland, and the others but not France.
63) Ducky has never traveled anywhere. LUCKY ME!
64) Don't buy Mickey D's in other countries. But definately have Spatzlè and Goulash Soup at the Hofbraü Haus in Munich
65) Or fish n' chips in Adebrugh
66) I like tofu.
67) But not as much as Tempeh
68) I have a basset hound
69) Arlo is the first dog to fetch consistantly for me
70) He weighs 70 pounds and thinks he's a lap dog - he is a great lap warmer.
71) Arlo is a great companion
72) I'm a left over sweetheart
73) George Winston serenaded me with his guitar. He played raindrops,
Bonèpart's Retreat, and darn a song I can't remember
74) It was my birthday
75) He didn't know it
76) My favorite group is Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young
77) The best concert ever - the Eagles in Münich - I was suddenly homesick
78) I made a life long friend in Germany - Patty - she lives 8 hours from Rose
77) I miss my grandfather - he was very special - pipes make me think about him.
78) My eyes leak
79) I have two beautiful step daughters
80) I ♥ fresh brewed French Roast coffee
81) I hold it in my mouth and savor the flavor
82) I am a procrastinator
83) People don't believe this about me
84) I am incredibly shy. People don't believe this either
85) I can make myself do a lot of things.
86) But not if it involves snakes.
87) I can never be on Survivor or Fear Factor - until they have Survivor Ireland
88) I don't have a favorite movie
89) I have a lot of favorite books.
90) And even more favorite albums - don't minimize go with the whole disk
91) Music colours my life
92) The people who mean the most to me have songs that remind me of them
93) Even my childhood friends. I may not see my friends for decades, but they are ALWAYS in my heart and thoughts like we just parted - they are a song
94) I broke my foot parasailing - my tailbone playing softball - I've had three concussions all caused by animals.
95) I don't like talking on the telephone
96) The world is connected through email
97) I don't believe in prolonging a life outside of quality of life.
I DO NOT BELIEVE IN LIFE SUPPORT!
98) I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ
99) I cuss like - well really bad. POTTY MOUTH. I try not to.
100) I want to be cremated.
101) My IQ is 124
Saturday, April 08, 2006
4x4 Me Me
One of my favorite blogs challegened their five particpating writers to a 4x4 Me Me. I always like filling out my own to see how I compair. You can't win, but you certainly don't lose by sharing. If you want to join in, leave your Me Me in the comments.
1) 4 movies you would watch over and over
1) Love Actually
2) Pride and Prejudice
3) Several Streisand movies
2) 4 TV shows you love to watch (*this season)
1) General Hospital (faithfully off and on since I was in the 6th grade)
2) NCIS
3) Ghost Whisperer
4) Law and Order SVU
3) 4 places you have been on vacation:
1) England
2) Stanley, Idaho
3) Mexico
4) Lake Shasta
4) 4 Websites you visit daily:
1) Trapped by Mormons
2) Faster Than Kudzu
3) Murder She Writes
4) Shoulda Woulda Coulda
5) 4 of your favorite foods:
1) BJ’s Ice Cream – Kahlua Fudge
2) French Onion Soup
3) Rare BBQ’d steak
4) Fresh brewed French Roast coffee
6) 4 places you would rather be right now:
1) Some place I’ve never been before – some place WITHOUT SNAKES –
so that leaves out Chichèn Itzà
2) On my deck doing a critique
3) On a warm sunny (not windy) beach – I live near a cold windy beach
4) On the road to some place new
7) Last 4 books you’ve read
1) The Kill – Allison Brennan
2) The Hunt – Alison Brennan
3) The Prey – Allison Brennan
4) Grave Intent – Deborah LeBlanc
8) The top four books in your TBR pile
1) To The Nines – Janet Evanovich
2) Thrilled To Dead – Jennifer Apodacca
3) Darkness On The Edge of Town – J Carson Black
4)
9) Four favorite authors
1) J.R.R. Tolkein
2) Jane Austin
3) Janet Evanovich
4) Natalie R. Collins
1) 4 movies you would watch over and over
1) Love Actually
2) Pride and Prejudice
3) Several Streisand movies
2) 4 TV shows you love to watch (*this season)
1) General Hospital (faithfully off and on since I was in the 6th grade)
2) NCIS
3) Ghost Whisperer
4) Law and Order SVU
3) 4 places you have been on vacation:
1) England
2) Stanley, Idaho
3) Mexico
4) Lake Shasta
4) 4 Websites you visit daily:
1) Trapped by Mormons
2) Faster Than Kudzu
3) Murder She Writes
4) Shoulda Woulda Coulda
5) 4 of your favorite foods:
1) BJ’s Ice Cream – Kahlua Fudge
2) French Onion Soup
3) Rare BBQ’d steak
4) Fresh brewed French Roast coffee
6) 4 places you would rather be right now:
1) Some place I’ve never been before – some place WITHOUT SNAKES –
so that leaves out Chichèn Itzà
2) On my deck doing a critique
3) On a warm sunny (not windy) beach – I live near a cold windy beach
4) On the road to some place new
7) Last 4 books you’ve read
1) The Kill – Allison Brennan
2) The Hunt – Alison Brennan
3) The Prey – Allison Brennan
4) Grave Intent – Deborah LeBlanc
8) The top four books in your TBR pile
1) To The Nines – Janet Evanovich
2) Thrilled To Dead – Jennifer Apodacca
3) Darkness On The Edge of Town – J Carson Black
4)
9) Four favorite authors
1) J.R.R. Tolkein
2) Jane Austin
3) Janet Evanovich
4) Natalie R. Collins
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Cold Water Rocket Science
I didn’t finish college. Well of course I never really began. Which explains my sentence structure and punctuation. I just have a few courses on the books in between thinking about it, and knowing it wasn’t going to be. So I didn’t take a course in plumbing. I never lettered in electrical maintenance, or for that matter non-electrical maintenance. And I didn’t go to trade school. Well, wait, that’s a lie. Yes, I did, and we did use plumbing and electricity. But it was Beauty College so it was to shampoo, rinse, dry, and style hair. That doesn’t count.
So, much to my delight Tuesday night upon washing my dishes – remember wash dishes, shampoo hair (some things just never leave you) - I discovered that the water heater was not creating that nectar of life, commonly known as hot water. Tuesday night, 11:30pm, is not a time I want to come to the devastating realization that I will have to stick my head in cold water at 7am the next morning to wake up. It means that I will not get a moment of sleep, for trying to figure a way out of the dilemma and Ducky isn’t at home, so I can’t foist the responsibility onto his shoulders. Of course he takes his shower at night so, drats anyway.
I run out and flip the breaker just to make sure that wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t. I put my ear to the water tank to listen to the inner workings, I don’t know maybe I was listening for internal bowel gurgles or something. No. Nothing. Nada. Bada bing.
Wednesday morning came far to early. I crossed my fingers hoping against hope as I ran water from the hot water tap. Nope still broke. A morning ritual, that must be followed by at least a pot of aromatic, dark roast coffee. To have only one gives an appearance of life, but it is only an image. To even contemplate plunging my body into cold water, “Uh huh honey. It ain’t happenin’.” Gritting my teeth I shampooed my hair in water so cold I know it came straight off the glaciers of Antarctica, took a spit bath, and went to work.
Now I rarely take lunch, but I was determined to have the parts Ducky would need to repair the problem. I bought not one, but two elements, and a thermostat. But something the handyman told me as he rung up my thermostat, made me curious as I drove home. So with screw driver in hand I went into the garage and removed the cover to make sure I’d bought the right part. No it didn’t look right at all, the one on the water heater had a red reset button that clicked when I pushed it.
Any smart girl knows this is both a good thing and a bad thing. The bad thing is that I just wasted the first lunch break I’d taken in easily three weeks to run down parts I did not need. But the really good thing was calling up Ducky and telling him I FIXED THE FRIGGIN’ WATER HEATER MYSELF! That always burns him.
Way Kewl!
So, much to my delight Tuesday night upon washing my dishes – remember wash dishes, shampoo hair (some things just never leave you) - I discovered that the water heater was not creating that nectar of life, commonly known as hot water. Tuesday night, 11:30pm, is not a time I want to come to the devastating realization that I will have to stick my head in cold water at 7am the next morning to wake up. It means that I will not get a moment of sleep, for trying to figure a way out of the dilemma and Ducky isn’t at home, so I can’t foist the responsibility onto his shoulders. Of course he takes his shower at night so, drats anyway.
I run out and flip the breaker just to make sure that wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t. I put my ear to the water tank to listen to the inner workings, I don’t know maybe I was listening for internal bowel gurgles or something. No. Nothing. Nada. Bada bing.
Wednesday morning came far to early. I crossed my fingers hoping against hope as I ran water from the hot water tap. Nope still broke. A morning ritual, that must be followed by at least a pot of aromatic, dark roast coffee. To have only one gives an appearance of life, but it is only an image. To even contemplate plunging my body into cold water, “Uh huh honey. It ain’t happenin’.” Gritting my teeth I shampooed my hair in water so cold I know it came straight off the glaciers of Antarctica, took a spit bath, and went to work.
Now I rarely take lunch, but I was determined to have the parts Ducky would need to repair the problem. I bought not one, but two elements, and a thermostat. But something the handyman told me as he rung up my thermostat, made me curious as I drove home. So with screw driver in hand I went into the garage and removed the cover to make sure I’d bought the right part. No it didn’t look right at all, the one on the water heater had a red reset button that clicked when I pushed it.
Any smart girl knows this is both a good thing and a bad thing. The bad thing is that I just wasted the first lunch break I’d taken in easily three weeks to run down parts I did not need. But the really good thing was calling up Ducky and telling him I FIXED THE FRIGGIN’ WATER HEATER MYSELF! That always burns him.
Way Kewl!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Golden Slumbers
The mornings are mine. I love to fritter them away. Reading, doing research, Blog Reading, critiquing (which requires a lot of reading,) Music News….READING…Even sometime just reading news (that is desperate.)
But this morning it was all different. Well no not really, it all began – way different with the hot water heater biting the little one. That means it was full of really cold water. It could have been a lot worse, my three year old 50 gallon hot water heater could have been pouring ice water all over my garage floor. After rinsing my hair with luke warm water, putting on a face (it didn’t feel like mine, it was really cold) I went to read. Out of six blogs I visit more than once each day, only two had new content. THANK GOD FOR MIR. Not only is she an awesome read (usually at night) but she had the most interesting content today.
JUGGLING
Well I didn’t know it was juggling until I went to the link Golden Slumbers I will never look at that song again in the same light or with out smiling,. Well I’ve always smiled, but this afternoon when I play Golden Slumbers at 4:06pm Pacific Standard Time (I always play a Beatles tune at 4:06pm) I will smile at more than usual. I mean think about it…0ne of the greats lines ever “The love you take, is equal….to….the….love…you…make.” Perfection. Thank you Paul McCartney.
Now it gets even better. Not only had the ever lovely Mir left a juggling gift for her devotees, but the Andi upped the ante with this GEM
So I spent the morning smiling. The world should be filled with great bloggers, music, and apparently awesome jugglers.
Way Kewl!
But this morning it was all different. Well no not really, it all began – way different with the hot water heater biting the little one. That means it was full of really cold water. It could have been a lot worse, my three year old 50 gallon hot water heater could have been pouring ice water all over my garage floor. After rinsing my hair with luke warm water, putting on a face (it didn’t feel like mine, it was really cold) I went to read. Out of six blogs I visit more than once each day, only two had new content. THANK GOD FOR MIR. Not only is she an awesome read (usually at night) but she had the most interesting content today.
JUGGLING
Well I didn’t know it was juggling until I went to the link Golden Slumbers I will never look at that song again in the same light or with out smiling,. Well I’ve always smiled, but this afternoon when I play Golden Slumbers at 4:06pm Pacific Standard Time (I always play a Beatles tune at 4:06pm) I will smile at more than usual. I mean think about it…0ne of the greats lines ever “The love you take, is equal….to….the….love…you…make.” Perfection. Thank you Paul McCartney.
Now it gets even better. Not only had the ever lovely Mir left a juggling gift for her devotees, but the Andi upped the ante with this GEM
So I spent the morning smiling. The world should be filled with great bloggers, music, and apparently awesome jugglers.
Way Kewl!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Blogging Bootcamp Washout
My first inclination would be to invoke the “I didn’t sign up for this” platform, but that would be a lie.
“Say that loud and proud private.”
“THAT WOULD BE A BIG FAT LIE, MA’AM.SIR. I MEAN SIR, MA’AM.”
I lust after the ability to blog on about anything. To have a life that gives me endless opportunities to prattle about endlessly. Situations into which I would gallantly lead my legions of faithful bloggees on a daily basis. And then nightly, after lights out, flick on the monitor and revel in their replies. A world of friends, of words, and life – literally outside of life itself.
But. No. Here I sit trying to marshal my thoughts into orderly units of words marching seamlessly across my page. All to save Blogging 4 Books. I love books, I love blogs, I hang on every word issued by the blogging heroes of my mornings and late nights. Those who have valiantly paved the way for us blogging wanna-bes. Privates in the Army of Words who couldn’t do a week’s worth of humorous blogging if our lives depended on it, and therefore wash out of Blogging Boot Camp in the first week.
I hate that thought, more than the fear that kept me from joining the military in the first place. BOOTCAMP. The fear of boot-camp, and the PT that went with it kept me, from joining back in the mid-seventies. Which is good because I then found out I was preggers and well, you didn’t have unmarried (well then I did get married) enlistees run their butts off in PT only to give birth on the proving grounds. Nope that just wouldn’t work.
So I did the next best thing, I married a guy going into the Army.
“AN ENLISTEE, SIR. YES, SIR!.”
But I digress; we aren’t revisiting him again. Well, at least not this time, because I am soooo over that. But I’m not over words. No I could never be over words. I would have a love affair with the written word that would cover volumes, tomes, whole libraries if I could. But I can’t marshal the long term, complete with an ending, storyline. I am therefore ever enlisted into the ranks of word privates (not even a PFC.) Where I shall hang on the every word of my Blog Generals: Jackson, Collins, Carson, and that Mir lady. Standing in the wings provoked into a witty (oh, please let it be witty) retort. Challenged into deep thought by the musings that await me each morning and night on the battlefield of blogging words.
Ah, life is good. I mean…
“LIFE IS GOOD, SIR. YES, SIR!”
“Say that loud and proud private.”
“THAT WOULD BE A BIG FAT LIE, MA’AM.SIR. I MEAN SIR, MA’AM.”
I lust after the ability to blog on about anything. To have a life that gives me endless opportunities to prattle about endlessly. Situations into which I would gallantly lead my legions of faithful bloggees on a daily basis. And then nightly, after lights out, flick on the monitor and revel in their replies. A world of friends, of words, and life – literally outside of life itself.
But. No. Here I sit trying to marshal my thoughts into orderly units of words marching seamlessly across my page. All to save Blogging 4 Books. I love books, I love blogs, I hang on every word issued by the blogging heroes of my mornings and late nights. Those who have valiantly paved the way for us blogging wanna-bes. Privates in the Army of Words who couldn’t do a week’s worth of humorous blogging if our lives depended on it, and therefore wash out of Blogging Boot Camp in the first week.
I hate that thought, more than the fear that kept me from joining the military in the first place. BOOTCAMP. The fear of boot-camp, and the PT that went with it kept me, from joining back in the mid-seventies. Which is good because I then found out I was preggers and well, you didn’t have unmarried (well then I did get married) enlistees run their butts off in PT only to give birth on the proving grounds. Nope that just wouldn’t work.
So I did the next best thing, I married a guy going into the Army.
“AN ENLISTEE, SIR. YES, SIR!.”
But I digress; we aren’t revisiting him again. Well, at least not this time, because I am soooo over that. But I’m not over words. No I could never be over words. I would have a love affair with the written word that would cover volumes, tomes, whole libraries if I could. But I can’t marshal the long term, complete with an ending, storyline. I am therefore ever enlisted into the ranks of word privates (not even a PFC.) Where I shall hang on the every word of my Blog Generals: Jackson, Collins, Carson, and that Mir lady. Standing in the wings provoked into a witty (oh, please let it be witty) retort. Challenged into deep thought by the musings that await me each morning and night on the battlefield of blogging words.
Ah, life is good. I mean…
“LIFE IS GOOD, SIR. YES, SIR!”
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Timber!!!!
Here we are, a full 31 days past the new year. A whole month. Puxitawny Phill will poke his head out of his hole tomorrow and tell us how much longer we must wait for spring to begin or winter to end, which ever comes first. My personal first sign comes on New Years day when my husband ushers the Christmas tree out of the corner and into its box (we decided last year to go artificial.) The traditional Out with the Old. But as previously stated, it's 31 days later and my Christmas tree still sits in the corner. I took the decorations off weeks ago, unplugged the lights two weeks ago. And yet, there it still sits.
My sister laughingly, said "it's a loverly tree, you should keep it up and just decorate it for each holiday and season." I contemplated doing just that as a way to spur Ducky into breaking it down and boxing it up. I'm mean surely that would do it right? No, I plugged in the lights again (it's prelit) and he just wanted to know why I lit the tree.
Well surely he'll come to an embarrassing moment that will egg him to finally yell timber,and then have at 'er. No that moment came and went last weekend with the usual Saturday morning visit of our very neighborly friend, Mr. Whisker. Always a joy, he shows up coffee mug in hand to discuss the latest real estate market trends, weather, computers and what nots. After that visit I think the tree may stay forever.
"We once, kept our decorated tree up for two or three years." Mr. Whiskers is apparently of no help. Those two or three years must have left a devastating mark on him. Did I mention he had to leave Washington state for some dark nefarious reason, and that he is now married to a different woman? A delightful Jehovah's Witness (pinky swear spit.) I'm not saying he married Mrs. Whiskers (au deux) just because she's JW (that would just be rude) she's a very lovely lady. But there being no threat of a Christmas tree being propped in the corner hung with snowmen in July must have it's attractions. Mr. Whiskers must have felt my dispare, because they drove out of town for the week immediately upon delivering his bit of post Christmas cheer. I'd burn his mail that I am picking up for him daily, but that would be a federal offense.
There's no time to decorate for Phil, I mean where do you buy little stuffed ground hogs? But Valentine's day is coming up. I have spun glass hearts in my Christmas ornament box (an apparent gift of forethought from my sister years ago) that I can take back out and use in tribute to this lover's holiday. Maybe go buy some pink and red gossamer ribbons and little cupids. I mean really, if you can't beat then join them. A few birds nest, maybe some silk crocus, daffodil, and tulip to celebrate spring, and of course coloured eggs and a vested hare or three. No ducks, there will be no cute little ducks, because well Ducky would take that as validation of his success at not removing the former Christmas tree.
My husband has a friend who puts up her Christmas tree in October, no lie. Mauve also keeps it up months later. It's an epidemic. Egg nog anyone?
Cele
My sister laughingly, said "it's a loverly tree, you should keep it up and just decorate it for each holiday and season." I contemplated doing just that as a way to spur Ducky into breaking it down and boxing it up. I'm mean surely that would do it right? No, I plugged in the lights again (it's prelit) and he just wanted to know why I lit the tree.
Well surely he'll come to an embarrassing moment that will egg him to finally yell timber,and then have at 'er. No that moment came and went last weekend with the usual Saturday morning visit of our very neighborly friend, Mr. Whisker. Always a joy, he shows up coffee mug in hand to discuss the latest real estate market trends, weather, computers and what nots. After that visit I think the tree may stay forever.
"We once, kept our decorated tree up for two or three years." Mr. Whiskers is apparently of no help. Those two or three years must have left a devastating mark on him. Did I mention he had to leave Washington state for some dark nefarious reason, and that he is now married to a different woman? A delightful Jehovah's Witness (pinky swear spit.) I'm not saying he married Mrs. Whiskers (au deux) just because she's JW (that would just be rude) she's a very lovely lady. But there being no threat of a Christmas tree being propped in the corner hung with snowmen in July must have it's attractions. Mr. Whiskers must have felt my dispare, because they drove out of town for the week immediately upon delivering his bit of post Christmas cheer. I'd burn his mail that I am picking up for him daily, but that would be a federal offense.
There's no time to decorate for Phil, I mean where do you buy little stuffed ground hogs? But Valentine's day is coming up. I have spun glass hearts in my Christmas ornament box (an apparent gift of forethought from my sister years ago) that I can take back out and use in tribute to this lover's holiday. Maybe go buy some pink and red gossamer ribbons and little cupids. I mean really, if you can't beat then join them. A few birds nest, maybe some silk crocus, daffodil, and tulip to celebrate spring, and of course coloured eggs and a vested hare or three. No ducks, there will be no cute little ducks, because well Ducky would take that as validation of his success at not removing the former Christmas tree.
My husband has a friend who puts up her Christmas tree in October, no lie. Mauve also keeps it up months later. It's an epidemic. Egg nog anyone?
Cele
Monday, January 09, 2006
The First...And Worst Of Three
The B4B gauntlet was tossed - write about an ex. I really wanted to write something totally positive. I read a few of the entries so far and was really impressed. Could I find a way to make a negative situation positive, when the only good thing that came of it was a wonderful daughter? We'll see.
The First and Worst of Three
Where we've been is who we are. This is my mantra. The benchmark by which I measure myself and consider what makes others tick. That means my ex’s have helped mold me into today’s woman. That’s right one husband, two ex’s, three mothers in law. One daughter, two step daughters,and three dogs. They are all a part of who I have become.
Ronnie? My first love, the boyfriend that got away? Does he ever think about me, because he’s indelibly tattooed on my heart, soul, and psyche? He is the want I have deep in my heart. He was benchmark that all males had to surpass. But we never knocked boots, never did the deed, never got down, dirty, and nasty. Hmmmm, maybe that is why I became the town slut. It was a heart breaking job, but someone had to do it. It helped mold me and believe it or not, it is something of which I’m kind of happy about.
No, we’ll go with mate number one. Despite it all ending on a very sour note, there had to be a good beginning. A moment in time when my heart and head collided to say he is the one. Okay, it didn’t happen that way at all. It was two moments separated by time and space….and people present.
My family had just made the thousand- mile trek from southern California to the small coastal Oregon town where I still live. I was 17, trying to rise out of the destruction that was my former life. Given the opportunity to change who I am and will become, the proverbial path chosen. I dropped my first name, developed a wise mouth attitude and sense of humor, and survivor mentality (which in hindsight was left over from my LA existence.) Sitting in the back of the school bus with several new “friends” I saw a cool fifty-three Chevy panel wagon and proclaimed to all within ear shot, “I’m going to marry him, there is my future husband.” Within a month or so my father, upon making acquaintances with area businessmen would come home and proclaim, “You’re never to have a relationship with that Wilcox, boy.” So I went out and married him. But wait, I’m rushing things.
That Wilcox boy was tender and sweet looking, with a wild streak that drove the area police officers crazy. He had soft velvet brown eyes with a sad droop, a quick laugh, and loping walk; he was taller than me. He’d dropped out of school at 16 and began fishing, a dangerous and hard working profession he soon gave up for roofing. Which if you’ve ever roofed you’ll know is a hard working and dangerous profession if you don’t’ have a sense of balance. He never seemed the quitter, he never seemed lazy, he never seemed hateful.
A year after that first sighting we finally met, fell in lust, and moved to Portland. All seemed happiness and light. He worked nights, I worked days, and we had crazy sex in between. Then he lost his job and proposed to me. He joined the service, we got married, and I found out I was pregnant. It was to become a series of important events for which he was never there. But I understood he was in the service. First he was three thousand, then six thousand miles away. I suffered (and so did my family) an extremely long and painful pregnancy, which ended with the birth of a beautiful, large baby girl, and the loss of her twin. He was still at the Proving Grounds, I understood he was in the service, sending me a hundred dollars a month while I lived with my parents.
I really should have seen it coming, hindsight is so clear.
Two weeks after our daughter was born, he was shipped out to Germany. On Easter morning 1976 with our two month old daughter in arms, I flew to Germany to be with our man. I found baby sitting jobs and was soon caring for six other kids, raking in good money during the days while he worked. It all went into the same bank account and he loved the children. But it was taking a toll on me. The answer came in the way of a job at a near by mess hall. He was not a happy camper, long shifts meant I wouldn’t be home, my cousin would care for our daughter, and I would be making more money than he did.
I didn’t see the changes in him. As long as I didn’t interfere with his television all was peaceful. His drinking increased from one or two a night, to a six pack. But you know, “you can’t be an alcoholic to beer.” I’m not sure where he bought that logic, but I couldn’t change his mind and make him see. Our first Christmas party in Germany he spent passed out in the backroom by the keg. New Years he spent passed out in the poolroom of a Gaus Haus where we’d gone with friend to ring in 1977.
There were good times. Barbecues with friends every Sunday afternoon, picnics at the lake – again with friends. Trips to Heidelberg, Munich, Karlsruhn, Frankfurt, Ulm, and other points of interest, that surprisingly all had beer festivals going on during our visit. He was becoming infamous among our friends for passing out at concerts.
I didn’t see the drugs. I didn’t’ see, well yeah I did but was clueless, the girlfriends. Then one night in July of 1977 it all came to a crashing crescendo, when in the wee hours I was awoken to him straddled across my chest trying to choke the life out of me. I’m a fighter. I’d survived LA, I’d survived rape, I’d survived not being popular, hell, I’d survived being me, I definitely was going to survive him.
Two days later he showed up at the mess hall begging forgiveness. I’d seen the writing on the wall. Now was the time to walk, but I was stuck in Germany with a man who hated me. He had my passport, our daughter’s passport and all the money. I had to work to save money for our plane tickets home, it took three months. I found friends who became my support system, my refuge from his wrath…
…Until the night before our flight to freedom. The plane was scheduled to take off at 5:30am, he came home to repeatedly dump out my luggage and take anything he’d thought was ours or his. Then he knocked my head into the cement floor until I faked unconscienceousness and he left. I feared his return, I feared his not returning, and I definitely feared missing our plane. But he did show up, he did drive us to the airport, and I did get on a plane with our daughter, a suitcase of her clothes and two dollars and nine marks in my purse. I’m a survivor. I landed in New York and called my mom. She is my hero.
I’m not afraid of my first ex anymore. He has no power over me. I rue that he has the ability to screw up my daughter to this day. He’s switched from beer to Night Train, he’s been married three times and divorced three times, none of his children talk to him for long. He is lonely, he is sad, he is still a nasty drunk. But once upon a time there was this sweet guy with puppy dog eyes who loved to race the wind. Now he just races to his bong.
I, on the other hand survived, and grew.
© 6 January 2006 Calista Cates
Where we've been is who we are. This is my mantra. The benchmark by which I measure myself and consider what makes others tick. That means my ex’s have helped mold me into today’s woman. That’s right one husband, two ex’s, three mothers in law. One daughter, two step daughters,and three dogs. They are all a part of who I have become.
Ronnie? My first love, the boyfriend that got away? Does he ever think about me, because he’s indelibly tattooed on my heart, soul, and psyche? He is the want I have deep in my heart. He was benchmark that all males had to surpass. But we never knocked boots, never did the deed, never got down, dirty, and nasty. Hmmmm, maybe that is why I became the town slut. It was a heart breaking job, but someone had to do it. It helped mold me and believe it or not, it is something of which I’m kind of happy about.
No, we’ll go with mate number one. Despite it all ending on a very sour note, there had to be a good beginning. A moment in time when my heart and head collided to say he is the one. Okay, it didn’t happen that way at all. It was two moments separated by time and space….and people present.
My family had just made the thousand- mile trek from southern California to the small coastal Oregon town where I still live. I was 17, trying to rise out of the destruction that was my former life. Given the opportunity to change who I am and will become, the proverbial path chosen. I dropped my first name, developed a wise mouth attitude and sense of humor, and survivor mentality (which in hindsight was left over from my LA existence.) Sitting in the back of the school bus with several new “friends” I saw a cool fifty-three Chevy panel wagon and proclaimed to all within ear shot, “I’m going to marry him, there is my future husband.” Within a month or so my father, upon making acquaintances with area businessmen would come home and proclaim, “You’re never to have a relationship with that Wilcox, boy.” So I went out and married him. But wait, I’m rushing things.
That Wilcox boy was tender and sweet looking, with a wild streak that drove the area police officers crazy. He had soft velvet brown eyes with a sad droop, a quick laugh, and loping walk; he was taller than me. He’d dropped out of school at 16 and began fishing, a dangerous and hard working profession he soon gave up for roofing. Which if you’ve ever roofed you’ll know is a hard working and dangerous profession if you don’t’ have a sense of balance. He never seemed the quitter, he never seemed lazy, he never seemed hateful.
A year after that first sighting we finally met, fell in lust, and moved to Portland. All seemed happiness and light. He worked nights, I worked days, and we had crazy sex in between. Then he lost his job and proposed to me. He joined the service, we got married, and I found out I was pregnant. It was to become a series of important events for which he was never there. But I understood he was in the service. First he was three thousand, then six thousand miles away. I suffered (and so did my family) an extremely long and painful pregnancy, which ended with the birth of a beautiful, large baby girl, and the loss of her twin. He was still at the Proving Grounds, I understood he was in the service, sending me a hundred dollars a month while I lived with my parents.
I really should have seen it coming, hindsight is so clear.
Two weeks after our daughter was born, he was shipped out to Germany. On Easter morning 1976 with our two month old daughter in arms, I flew to Germany to be with our man. I found baby sitting jobs and was soon caring for six other kids, raking in good money during the days while he worked. It all went into the same bank account and he loved the children. But it was taking a toll on me. The answer came in the way of a job at a near by mess hall. He was not a happy camper, long shifts meant I wouldn’t be home, my cousin would care for our daughter, and I would be making more money than he did.
I didn’t see the changes in him. As long as I didn’t interfere with his television all was peaceful. His drinking increased from one or two a night, to a six pack. But you know, “you can’t be an alcoholic to beer.” I’m not sure where he bought that logic, but I couldn’t change his mind and make him see. Our first Christmas party in Germany he spent passed out in the backroom by the keg. New Years he spent passed out in the poolroom of a Gaus Haus where we’d gone with friend to ring in 1977.
There were good times. Barbecues with friends every Sunday afternoon, picnics at the lake – again with friends. Trips to Heidelberg, Munich, Karlsruhn, Frankfurt, Ulm, and other points of interest, that surprisingly all had beer festivals going on during our visit. He was becoming infamous among our friends for passing out at concerts.
I didn’t see the drugs. I didn’t’ see, well yeah I did but was clueless, the girlfriends. Then one night in July of 1977 it all came to a crashing crescendo, when in the wee hours I was awoken to him straddled across my chest trying to choke the life out of me. I’m a fighter. I’d survived LA, I’d survived rape, I’d survived not being popular, hell, I’d survived being me, I definitely was going to survive him.
Two days later he showed up at the mess hall begging forgiveness. I’d seen the writing on the wall. Now was the time to walk, but I was stuck in Germany with a man who hated me. He had my passport, our daughter’s passport and all the money. I had to work to save money for our plane tickets home, it took three months. I found friends who became my support system, my refuge from his wrath…
…Until the night before our flight to freedom. The plane was scheduled to take off at 5:30am, he came home to repeatedly dump out my luggage and take anything he’d thought was ours or his. Then he knocked my head into the cement floor until I faked unconscienceousness and he left. I feared his return, I feared his not returning, and I definitely feared missing our plane. But he did show up, he did drive us to the airport, and I did get on a plane with our daughter, a suitcase of her clothes and two dollars and nine marks in my purse. I’m a survivor. I landed in New York and called my mom. She is my hero.
I’m not afraid of my first ex anymore. He has no power over me. I rue that he has the ability to screw up my daughter to this day. He’s switched from beer to Night Train, he’s been married three times and divorced three times, none of his children talk to him for long. He is lonely, he is sad, he is still a nasty drunk. But once upon a time there was this sweet guy with puppy dog eyes who loved to race the wind. Now he just races to his bong.
I, on the other hand survived, and grew.
© 6 January 2006 Calista Cates
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
MeMe'd 7X7
Joss, Joss, Joss you are so inspiring. So if you're not the ever pretty Joss, check out Faster Than Kudzu and be inspired to blog on. 7 x 7 is a list of seven with seven even though with Joss it's often 5 things. I will try to limit myself to seven
Seven Things To Do Before I Die -
1) Repay my parents for the wonderful things they have done for me, for all they have taught me, for the morals they instilled in me. (This had been number five)
2) Get to PA to meet my bestest, because I've never met my very best friend. My daughter introduced us wow almost seven years ago. So that is, well, kind of an omen. Now I'm scared.
3) Travel the world, because, well why stop at just a few places.
4) Become more tolerant of stupid people.
5) Get my Christmas cards and packages out before the appropriate Christmas - no not New Years - Christmas. But the Kahlua is all made.
6) Figure out a plot for my story, or gather enough good poetry to publish a tome.
7) Create world peace
Seven Things I Can Not Do:
1) Like snakes, it just will never happen. No way in heck. They slither in my nightmares, they keep me from applying for Survivor (well that an my zip code size butt.)
2) Lie without it driving my conscience crazy.
3) Purposely be mean to people.
4) I can not fix the FM transmitter
5) I don't want to fix the AM transmitter
6) I can't get past chapter 7 of my story
7) I can't think of an ending
Seven Things That Attracted Me To My Husband
1) His wonderful smile
2) His kindness (he hides this behind a wall of stubborness, because he doesn't want people to think he is nice, but he is wonderfully kind and generous.)
3) He thinks I'm fluffy.
4) He calls me Fritz.
5) He lets me fix Rotortiller, roof the house, lay flagstone (did you know cement eats your skin? not pretty,) built a brick wall, and put in the insulation, but wouldn't let me wire the new room.
6) He charms babies, my mother, and my daughter.
7) He has a fabulous sense of humor.
8) Man can he kiss (ooh I'm hottttt)
Seven Things I Say Most Often
1) Thank you
2) I appreciate you
3) Would you pick up another can of Mocha Roca?
4) No my Christmas cards aren't done.
5) Hit control, alt, delete (maybe this should be number 1)
6) You're listening to KCST, FM 106.9 (no this really should be number 3)
7) My name does not mean come here right this minute.
Seven Books I Love
1) Lord Of The Rings
2) Sense and Sensibility
3) Pride and Prejudice
4) The Stand
5) Wives and Sisters
6) gods of Alabama
7) The Wolf and the Dove
Seven Movies I Would (and do) Watch Over and Over
1) Sense and Sensibility
2) The Mirror Has Two Faces
3) A Christmas Carol
4) Lord of the Rings
5) Any thing Sandra Bulloch (well almost except forces of nature and hangman, oh shivers)
6) Pride and Prejudice
7) Sliding Doors
Seven People I Want To Join In
1) anyone
Seven Things To Do Before I Die -
1) Repay my parents for the wonderful things they have done for me, for all they have taught me, for the morals they instilled in me. (This had been number five)
2) Get to PA to meet my bestest, because I've never met my very best friend. My daughter introduced us wow almost seven years ago. So that is, well, kind of an omen. Now I'm scared.
3) Travel the world, because, well why stop at just a few places.
4) Become more tolerant of stupid people.
5) Get my Christmas cards and packages out before the appropriate Christmas - no not New Years - Christmas. But the Kahlua is all made.
6) Figure out a plot for my story, or gather enough good poetry to publish a tome.
7) Create world peace
Seven Things I Can Not Do:
1) Like snakes, it just will never happen. No way in heck. They slither in my nightmares, they keep me from applying for Survivor (well that an my zip code size butt.)
2) Lie without it driving my conscience crazy.
3) Purposely be mean to people.
4) I can not fix the FM transmitter
5) I don't want to fix the AM transmitter
6) I can't get past chapter 7 of my story
7) I can't think of an ending
Seven Things That Attracted Me To My Husband
1) His wonderful smile
2) His kindness (he hides this behind a wall of stubborness, because he doesn't want people to think he is nice, but he is wonderfully kind and generous.)
3) He thinks I'm fluffy.
4) He calls me Fritz.
5) He lets me fix Rotortiller, roof the house, lay flagstone (did you know cement eats your skin? not pretty,) built a brick wall, and put in the insulation, but wouldn't let me wire the new room.
6) He charms babies, my mother, and my daughter.
7) He has a fabulous sense of humor.
8) Man can he kiss (ooh I'm hottttt)
Seven Things I Say Most Often
1) Thank you
2) I appreciate you
3) Would you pick up another can of Mocha Roca?
4) No my Christmas cards aren't done.
5) Hit control, alt, delete (maybe this should be number 1)
6) You're listening to KCST, FM 106.9 (no this really should be number 3)
7) My name does not mean come here right this minute.
Seven Books I Love
1) Lord Of The Rings
2) Sense and Sensibility
3) Pride and Prejudice
4) The Stand
5) Wives and Sisters
6) gods of Alabama
7) The Wolf and the Dove
Seven Movies I Would (and do) Watch Over and Over
1) Sense and Sensibility
2) The Mirror Has Two Faces
3) A Christmas Carol
4) Lord of the Rings
5) Any thing Sandra Bulloch (well almost except forces of nature and hangman, oh shivers)
6) Pride and Prejudice
7) Sliding Doors
Seven People I Want To Join In
1) anyone
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