tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55979099656149074082024-02-08T08:32:19.902-08:00Solving the mysterymysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-49563941091727370232011-05-31T08:38:00.001-07:002011-05-31T08:38:29.599-07:00Not Merde, It's ShitFirst of all, I’m not trying to be Debby Downer, but last Wednesday, I was released from the hospital, diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure. Scary shit. My appointments with the specialists are next week but I was told at the hospital to watch the sodium. I have to literally rethink my lifestyle. I mean what if what you are eating is killing you? I want to say shit again but maybe I will use the French word “Merde”. No, it might mean the same in France but I need to say shit. I guess I should be Suzy Sunshine and say I am happy to be alive and I am but I like to go out and have a couple of drinks and occasionally have a crazy night out with my friends and now when I go out I’m afraid that everyone visualizes the Grim Reaper standing behind me. Including me.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-91266420659679067512011-01-12T05:59:00.000-08:002011-01-12T05:59:54.772-08:00R-E-S-P-E-C-T, Just a Little BitI’m sure that no one had any idea that their words would inflame the mind of a lunatic. Maybe not so much the words themselves, but an atmosphere of approval of violence against people you disagree with politically has been created. And I know that Democrats have also engaged in such speech and it could have very well been Republicans as victims of a liberal-leaning nutcase. But everybody should realize that there are consequences to that type of talk. Otherwise, this will happen again and no one will be able to tell themselves that they didn’t know this could happen. They will have to live with the knowledge that they were partially to blame for the death of innocent people.<br />
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One side of the polical spectrum will disparage the other side to the point that the opposing side is seen as evil. This has to stop, we are all Americans who love their country. We should treat each other with respect, if only for that reason.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-85663468855799492142010-12-22T10:59:00.001-08:002010-12-22T10:59:30.745-08:00Disney and ChristmasMy kids are older (20 to 26) and unmarried right now. Since we don’t know what life will be like a year from now (Dear God, I need to be an empty nester!), we decided to have a short family vacation. Living in Florida, I can get the Disney Florida Resident Passes. My husband and I got passes for each other and each of our kids for Christmas. We will get there Thursday night by car and leave Sunday night. We are staying at a cheap moderately-priced hotel. (We get two rooms.) We will give them $100 each for clothes that they needed anyway. Since they are older, the only souvenirs we buy are a couple of Christmas ornaments. We’ve been there before, so we know the cheaper places to eat. Since we are not the earliest risers, we usually skip breakfast except for one day when we might splurge at a Golden Corral for breakfast. One restaurant meal (German pavilion all you can eat) will be where we have Christmas dinner. Other than that, we do counter service. Best of all, though, are the Christmas decorations and lights. You see, I am from Philadelphia (not the classy section), where Christmas lights are considered to be works of art. The bigger the display, the more it takes my breath away. Main Street Disneyworld actually looks romantic with the pretty wreaths and poinsettia plants. But Hollywood Studios, is an OMG display of millions of lights that go off and on in time to the music. All I need is a cup of hot chocolate (really, I’m gonna get one right now).<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-80264784699424217772010-12-17T06:59:00.000-08:002010-12-17T06:59:32.179-08:00Another Lifetime Ago - Giving BirthDuring my first pregnancy, I was diagnosed with preeclampsia. A few days before my due date, I was hospitalized for observation. I was told that since I also have small hip bones (which I do), that I should have a c-section. In spite of being prepared for a natural childbirth, I had the procedure. The only problem I had was after my daughter’s birth, when I started to be able to feel my rib cage. Since the doctor was not quite finished yet, I expressed my concern. They immediately gave me morphine, which put me out and I slept the rest of the day and the night, as well. I did not hold my baby until I woke up the next day. I went home, rested for a couple of days, and then was full of energy. <br />
When I was pregnant again, I had switched healthcare plans and was told that I had to have a vaginal birth. They handed me a form to sign in which I was warned about the increased chance of an emergency c-section. To their dismay, I refused to sign it on the grounds that I would rather have a planned surgery than an emergency one. <br />
During my last pregnancy I had a c-section. During the procedure, I was surprised that they performed the Apgar test twice on my baby. The next day, a staff doctor said to me “Are you the one whose baby was born with the cord wrapped around his neck”. I said that no one told me that. He looked nervous and said “I must have the wrong file”. Since my baby had the Apgar test twice, I think that the staff doctor did not want to be the one to tell me what really happened. I am glad that I had a c-section because if my baby went through the birth canal with the cord wrapped around his neck, well, I don’t know if he would have made it without brain damage. Fortunately, he was fine.<br />
I know that their is a group of people who are against c-sections. But every woman has the right to decide what is best for her and her baby. I think I made the right decisions at the time. My children were all born healthy. And that is what counts.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-88270536019267424882010-12-03T07:29:00.001-08:002010-12-03T07:29:40.119-08:00Glad to Be a BoomerOne of the nice things about being a boomer (I am 57) is that we grew up listening to great music: rock and roll as well as big band and classics like Sinatra (thanks to our parents). As the years passed we also enjoyed music from the 70’s, 80’s , 90’s, etc. When I’m driving, I like to turn on my satellite radio and listen to today’s music. It amazes me how much they borrow from previous generations. , I doubt that she is aware of this, but the melody actually came from the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893. <br />
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There's a place downtown,<br />
Where the freaks all come around.<br />
It's a hole in the wall.<br />
It's a dirty free for all.<br />
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It goes to show that the average young person may diss music from previous generations , but the people who actually create the music they listen to, are inspired by it.<br />
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Anyway, my new interest is Jazz. I went to New Orleans in July and you can hear many kinds of music,: R&B, Country, Rock (60’s to today) and a lot of Jazz. Smooth, Dixieland, Fusion, etc. I think I liked the Blues and Dixieland Jazz the best. Although listening to smooth jazz at breakfast was fun, too.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-39902057396892103172010-12-01T12:21:00.000-08:002011-01-03T10:30:48.911-08:00Why I Rarely See My Sister-in-lawMy in-laws passed away fairly early in my marriage. So I had to deal with a sister-in-law. So to represent her side of the family, my husband and I would attend every freakin birthday party her kids had. Then when we started our family, they would make up excuses not to come. They preferred to spend the time schmoozing her rich aunt and uncle. Sometimes they would stop by for 15 minutes on the way home. My sister-in-law, her aunt and her aunt's daughter-in-law would go out to lunch together and even when I was unemployed would not ask me to join them. <br />
Years later, all of us had moved to Florida and my sister-in-law divorced and re-married. She and her new husband called to say they were in the area and wanted to visit, ON ONE HOUR'S NOTICE. They arrived and stayed 15 minutes. During that time, her new husband kept talking about nicer houses that he had seen. <br />
I used to feel bad about the fact that we were so low on their list of priorities. But as the years went by, these feelings started to fade. I don't expect anything out of them and I am never disappointed. I try to enjoy my life as much as I can. "Living well is the best revenge".<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-48780784458803930232010-11-30T11:17:00.000-08:002010-11-30T11:17:31.213-08:00How I Celebrated ThanksgivingIn a large glass, pour 3 oz. of red wine and fill the rest with diet lemon-lime soda. Tastes like sangria. And sip it, don't chug it down. Start AFTER the turkey is in the oven.<br />
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Put 4-5 ounces of skinless turkey on your plate, then veggies, then small amounts of your favorite foods side by side, don’t pile anything. If you run out of room on your plate, remind yourself that the other foods are not your favorites. Also, chew your food slowly and enjoy the taste. By the time you clean your plate, you will be reasonably full. Then stop eating. Tell yourself that you feel fine now and you don’t need a stomach ache later. After dinner, clean up as much as you can. If you must serve dessert, purchase one and make it the smallest one you can get, and cut very small servings. Again, eat slowly and enjoy the taste. If you find yourself going back for seconds, you will be aware that you are in the danger zone and at this point you need to put the dessert in the fridge and leave the area. If you have kids, it will be gone by morning.<br />
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Watch Kill Bill Vol. 1 with family.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-74185225445983619052010-11-04T11:01:00.001-07:002010-11-04T11:01:54.570-07:00Developing Self Respect: It Does Sound PatheticIt takes very little for me to have self-respect:<br />
If the bed is made, we all have clean clothes for the day, I have food in the fridge, the bills are paid, the dishwasher is empty or running and I have wiped my counters and sink : that is an amazing day <br />
If I can clean a bathroom or mop a floor, I am ass-kicking awesome. <br />
I guess I gotta start somewhere.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-82917992666309438512010-10-29T10:38:00.000-07:002010-10-29T10:38:26.528-07:00Damn, I'm Prolific Today: Christmas MemoriesI read a blog about Christmas shopping lists today. Since I don't keep a list anymore (Get the cards done, decorate, stockings filled, find out what video games, CD's, DVD's the kids like......maybe I should keep a Christmas to-do list), I didn't have an appropriate comment to make. But that didn't stop me from taking a trip down Memory Lane.<br />
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I should've paid more attention when my 4 month old baby spent more time playing with the ribbons than her toys. Yes, I not only wrapped the presents, but trimmed then with ribbons and bows (pre-made , of course). For a 4 month old. In later years, I hid down the basement on Christmas Eve, and did the wrapping on the floor, since we had not table down there, taking breaks when my legs fell asleep. (Yeah, I'm a last minute shopper). When my kids were teen-agers, I finally got sensible and tried buying big plastic bags with Christmas designs, and just threw their presents in, unwrapped. Can you believe it, they were disappointed? The next year they got video games , CD's or movies put in their stocking. One stop shopping for all. Now that was a Merry Christmas. No sore knees.<br />
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Proud of myself in a perverse way. On the one hand, this is my second blog post in one day. On the other hand, don't I have more important things to do today?<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-3676479986476970142010-10-29T08:39:00.000-07:002010-10-29T08:39:02.842-07:00I Live in a Glass House and I Also Throw StonesAll my adult life, I have felt to be in competition with the “Centerfold”. To me, she did not feel human. I could not imagine having men I did not know or whom I did not consider attractive or even likeable masturbating over my picture while imagining doing all kinds of things to me. Yet on the other hand, by posing in these pictures that were so easily available these women were acknowledging the humanity of their male viewers. Which is something I did not do. I was the person who did not acknowledge the unattractive men while at the same time I would be nervous around the good-looking ones. I do what I criticized men for doing: I treated people differently based on their looks. Since I always considered myself to be plain looking, even when I looked my best, I had become the female version of the type of person played by Ernest Borgnine in Marty. I also did what he did, I got to know a really sweet guy, who was passably attractive, due to a combination of physical and inner beauty. In fact, he also had to go beyond the initial appearance with me and we fell in love.<br />
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Today I am a lot older and I realize that there are two types of women: the ones who care about who sees them naked and the ones who don’t. Feeling one way or the other does not make you a better person because it doesn’t define who you are. Sure, the women who are centerfolds, etc. are airbrushed,professionally made up and physically blessed. They also have to maintain their diets, exercise and, in some cases, have difficult surgical procedures to achieve their status. Again, I often felt that I was unfairly judged because of my age and weight. Then why do I make presumptions of the Playboy women? I consider myself to be a loving wife, mother, with a slightly off-beat sense of humor, watches horror films, love music, books, travel and could not survive without my spirituality . Many of the Playboy women, strippers, etc. are no different, I’m sure. Although I wonder how many have a comparable collection of Tigger dolls.(Don't judge me.)<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-83003822926055606922010-10-10T14:47:00.001-07:002010-10-10T14:47:30.181-07:00Supporting Your FriendsI realized today that it’s just as important for me to support my friends as it is for them to support me. Sometimes I don’t feel like going out when a friend invites me to an event. I think that I’m not in the mood. I used to be very shy as a child and old habits keep trying to come back into my life. But that’s not the point: how I feel. When you are an introvert, that is what you focus on. My friend has invited me to show support for her venture. That is what keeps a friendship going, that feeling of support. And I am always glad that I did it.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-69204713476056637622010-10-07T12:16:00.000-07:002010-10-07T12:16:26.391-07:00Warning: I'm Rambling On and On (Again)I was thinking about religion today. Well, first I need to make this clear that I don’t try to make other people agree with me. I guess what I really want to do is to straighten out my own thinking. I mean, I believe in God. But what is God, to me? Is he the Old Testament God, the nonpersonal God of Buddhism and Hinduism? Is he a synonym for the Universe? But do I really believe? I’ve always thought that there had to be a creator. But a few weeks ago, I heard a scientist talk about the existence of multiple universes that have no beginning. He asked why people have such a hard time imagining the universe without a beginning when they can accept a Creator that always existed. The Creator, who always existed: first of all, can I accept that? Can I accept a being who always existed and put deliberate thought into creating one (or more) universes? Or I can believe that the Universe(s) always existed in one place or another. But there was a big bang, where did the original materials come from and how did it start the process? And what is the Universe, anyway? Is it the stars, planets, etc.? Or is somehow every conscious being on earth, connecting to each other. In a way, I envy people who are atheists, they are so certain. Of course, I think they are too wrapped up in their criticisms of organized religion to be able to think it through. If there were no organized religions, I wonder how would they feel, about the existence of God as well as their own spirituality.<br />
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I must believe in something that exists out there, because when I do feel the need for prayer, if I didn’t believe in a God, who am I praying to? Another part of my problem, is that although I am interested in spirituality, I have noticed that lately I am not praying as much as I used to and I am also finding excuses not to meditate. If I am really spiritual , that would not happen, now would it? Am I someone who claims to be spiritual because I like that label? Am I a hypocrite? I think I am letting my spiritual practice backslide. Maybe, that is why I am feeling so empty lately. <br />
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Sorry if this looks like I’m rambling on and on, but part of the reason I keep a blog is to help me to sort through this stuff.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-67058485386247065472010-10-06T10:12:00.000-07:002010-10-06T10:12:25.828-07:00Bullying Gay KidsPeople under the age of 21 are greatly affected by peer pressure. More so today than when I was a kid. (I was picked on, too). The ones who are gay already receive a message from society that they are not as good as everyone else. Look at DADT, adoption rights, gay marriage. Television often shows gay stereotypes, when they show gays at all, There are many people who think they don't know any gay people because so many are afraid to come out. This is the world that they are going to live in and that is scary enough without bullying them<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-40390372455797199612010-10-05T12:26:00.000-07:002010-10-05T12:26:11.768-07:00Minor AccomplishmentsI once read a book by Harold Kushner (not the Why Bad Things book). He talked about the Bible story of Joseph, you know, the one with the colorful coat and nasty brothers. He mentioned a minor character in the story, a shepherd. Joseph asked him something like, ”Have you seen my brothers?” He responded by telling Joseph where to find them. Now, this was the interesting comment: What if the shepherd wasn’t there that day? What if, for some reason, Joseph could not find his brothers that day. How much would that have changed the Bible? The Jews would never have been in Egypt. Moses would never have led the Chosen People? What would have happened to the Ten Commandments? <br />
We don’t know the name of the shepherd, but by doing that small thing, he was able to ensure that today, we have the Ten Commandments. No matter what faith you have, or none at all, this has had a major effect on the world.<br />
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Sometimes, I am concerned that I am not accomplishing anything that someone else would consider important. I just hope that in a small way that I will contribute to a more positive world. That is the most that the majority of people can hope for, anyway.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-43013335256830219522010-10-04T08:45:00.000-07:002010-10-04T08:45:56.375-07:00The Best Night Ever - UnplannedI am a person who needs to make plans for vacations. I research hotels, attractions, and restaurants. I look up the hotel on Google Maps so I can check out the neighborhood. But sometimes the best memories come about all on their own.<br />
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A couple of years ago, my husband and I spent a long week-end in New York City. One day we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and stopped by Strawberry Fields. We were lucky that a photographer was there, who decorated the memorial with roses. He didn’t mind if we took pictures and we now have a treasure that we will never forget. We got off the train at 42nd St. (my husband loves any kind of train), walked up the stairs and realized that we were hungry. Looking across the street, we saw B. B. King’s. Walking in, we saw signs that Burt Bacherach was performing. After our dinner arrived, we spoke to the server about seeing the show. Our plates were carried out to the theater. It was funny, it looked like a small parade and people were staring at us like we were important. We sat at a table, which as luck would have it, was occupied by several women in their late 20’s who were Burt Bacherach fanatics. It was like being with the cast of Sex and the City, but no conversation about sex. The show itself was amazing. He sat at his piano, backed by a small orchestra and several singers. Every song performed was a classic. Occasionally, he would take a break and talk about his childhood, his daughter,who was finally impressed with him due to his appearance in the first Austin Powers movie, and his concerns about the health of his former partner, Hal David. A special guest appeared, Rufus Wainwright, Jr., to sing his version of “Message to Michael” called “Message to Martha”. I was a little familiar with him, because he sang in the movie “Aviator”. <br />
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After the show, all the girls at our table but one went home because they had to go to work the next day. One girl went with us to have a drink at the Hard Rock. Next thing we knew, they were announcing that they were closing. I think this was the first time in a long time that I closed a place. After she went home, my husband and I took a cab back to our hotel. I remember looking out the window at the lights, just like I have seen in many movies. Thinking that this night was a one-in-a-lifetime experience.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-82515004050919959322010-10-03T11:27:00.000-07:002010-10-03T11:27:24.332-07:00Adventures with ADDMy daughter has ADD and OCD. We realized she had something going on when she was in Kindergarten. I didn't know anything about ADD. I wasn't sure if it was a lack of intelligence or self-esteem that caused her to rip up the homework papers where she had to circle one thing on it. When she reached third grade, we met with the teachers, counselor and the school psychologist. The teachers talked about how difficult it was to deal with Laura (she daydreamed) and that they could not do that and handle the other students. The psychologist suggested a school for children with learning disabilities. The counselor mentioned ADD. A neurologist who specialized in ADD diagnosed her and wrote a prescription. Unfortunately the counselor felt that children should not get ADD medication, which caused my daughter to refuse it. She got all the way through high school by the skin of her teeth. <br />
She never bothered to take the SAT. I assumed ,at the time, since she was interested in changing her hairstyle frequently, that perhaps she would want to be a beautician. To my surprise, she wanted to be a CPA. She took the entrance exam for our community college and failed it by a two points. I rarely have seen Laura cry, but she was heart-broken and sobbing. She started taking the remedial courses and realized that she needed help. <br />
I found a therapist for her who prescribed the medicine she needed. She and her doctor (we have gone through several) have had to play around with the type of medication and dosage because of the side effects. She has suffered from lack of appetite (she is a size 1), constant sleepiness, insomnia, depression and anxiety. She needs to monitor herself constantly to deal with this. Her situation changes from day to day. <br />
But now she has her Bachelor's in Accounting and is trying to go for her Master's while working. People do this all the time, which is what I tell her when she gets discouraged. But this is harder for her than for other people and I am proud of her accomplishments. She will reach her goals because , with the OCD, she is too stubborn to fail.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-37321841279335676532010-09-27T12:00:00.001-07:002010-09-27T12:00:53.482-07:00Celebrities May Be Human, Too.I watched the mis-named Dancing With the Stars last week for the first time. (These are stars?) Even though there were several that I never heard of before, it was worth watching for Margaret Cho. She ACCIDENTALLY got herself all twisted up in her gold veil and her partner had to stop their performance to get her out of it. And her very old parents were sitting in the audience. I love Margaret Cho, but this was hilarious. I know, I'm so mean. And the following night they had Carlos Santana and Chis Daughtry. That CD is now on my Amazon wish list.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-29736215781088988422010-09-17T11:31:00.001-07:002010-09-17T11:31:25.586-07:00Maybe I have ADD, or Maybe I'm Just CrazyAddicted to watching the Ken Burns series: Jazz. Addiction grows by finding the songs in the series on You-Tube. Becomes insanity when I get You-Tube on my cell phone so I can play videos wherever I’m at. About to be committed when I spend spare time making lists of videos by artist, etc. <br />
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One good thing: my kids are ignoring me.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-8568654282420111552010-09-15T10:06:00.000-07:002010-09-15T10:06:22.750-07:00Why I Like ZombiesNow I'm not saying that I really want to meet one, or be one. Although I admit that I can resemble the Living Dead before I get my first cup of coffee. In fact, when I had a bright pink bathrobe, my kids would refer to me as the "Big Pink Thing", as I stumbled into the kitchen.<br />
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Now I'm trying to go from light-hearted to serious. If there is a secret that all writers know as to how to do this, I don't know it. So here goes:<br />
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We live in a world of uncertainty. We don’t know what the future holds. We want to succeed in life, but we can’t count on even getting or keeping a job. This feeling of doom has seeped into our spirits. It is part of us, even when we are not consciously thinking about it. In a fictional world where zombies exist, you are fighting to survive. You don’t know what is lurking around the corner. I think immersing yourself in that world even for a few hours generates stress, but it is so overwhelming during that time span that it takes your mind off what you are going through in reality. Then when the movie ends or you finish the book, you actually feel better about your own life, at least the world you really live in isn’t that hopeless.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-72985162233817484842010-09-10T13:26:00.000-07:002010-09-10T13:26:07.483-07:00Blabbing AgainThis is a much longer version of a comment that I made on Mommy Wants Vodka blog. <br />
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I was beginning to feel invisible. Next, the feelings of my husband and children seemed more important than mine. Finally, I felt like my opinions were worthless. Depression ensued. It may seem trivial , I know, but one day I read an on-line article that made me feel like WTF? I don’t remember what it was about, but I wrote a response. Someone responded and agreed with me. I started checking out news articles, started with Twitter, then a friend said to me, “How come you’re not on Facebook?” I started to keep a journal, and then a blog. I found the blog Mommy Wants Vodka, to be inspirational. My responses were getting so long, that I thought I should title them by Chapter. I shortened them before submitting and put them the original on my blog. (Not copying you, Dear Aunt Becky). Her blog was a great starting point for me to get to know myself again. Now I know this sounds pathetic but writing has greatly increased my self-esteem, even though no one reads it. (I might put this on my blog, getting too long again.) I think an on-line support group for women that promotes honesty, bacon, and vodka (responsibly, of course) is awesome. As well as fruit flavored vodka.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-69027662526184266772010-07-28T10:03:00.000-07:002010-07-28T10:03:39.859-07:00When I Had To Re-evaluate My BeliefsMy son got his first haircut at the age of 2, and honest to God, he flirted with the tall blond hairstylist. She told him how handsome he was. When he turned 12, he was into rap music, horror movies and violent video games. Girls would stop at the house for him. At 14, he tells me he could be gay. I was shocked at first. After all, he wasn't effeminate and didn't like Broadway musicals. However from the age of 2, he was very particular about how he wanted his hair cut. And he kept his room very neat decorated with a Spongebob poster and pillow. <br />
When he came to me and said “mom, I think I might be gay”, I did not yell or criticize him. But I did say that sometimes 14 year olds can be overwhelmed with hormones and maybe in a year or so, he might change his mind. I guess I just grabbed at the word “might”. At the time, I was quite religious, I considered myself “saved” and was attending a Bible Study class. There were from time to time jokes made by someone in the class about Gay people. I told the class what happened and they said they would pray for him to change. I thought about my fears and talked to my son. I realized that he did not choose this life. Why would he? People get beat up and killed because of their orientation. I did some research on the so-called Biblical view, and found that there are other interpretations , just like we interpret other parts of the Bible that we disagree. At this point, I started to wonder about taking the Bible literally, I mean, I already rejected the creationism thing. Besides, I could not tell my son that he was committing a sin because I did not believe this was something that he chose. He did not decide one day that, although he naturally preferred girls, in order that he could offend God, he would just pursue guys. Sin is a conscious choice. <br />
He recently turned 20 and is turning out to be a nice young man. I guess I'm lucky that he doesn't act effeminate because he is not subjected to homophobia. Unfortunately, he has to be careful about who he tells. Our relatives don't know and I don't know how they would react. They will either laugh at him, or condemn him. He will always have to pretend that he is something that he has no interest in being.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-81912191487198844852010-07-26T11:43:00.000-07:002010-07-26T11:43:54.958-07:00I Really Do Love AnimalsWe got our kids a cat, thinking it would be easier to take care of, in case I got stuck with the job. His name was Sage and his nickname "Pooh Bear". The idea came to me when I was cleaning his litter box. How come TV ads never show the goddamn litter that the cat kicks off its feet and wind up all over the floor. Used kitty litter on my bare feet. Yet somehow I could not get it up with the vacuum. <br />
He also would attack my hands. Just me, no one else.One day, I realized that the stupid cat thought that my red nails looked like blood. He was so dumb that he didn't know what to do with a mouse. He smacked it, let it run, jumped on it,and smacked it. Then the poor thing ran under my sofa, where it had a heart attack and died. Once in a while, our cat would catch a lizard and eat all of it but the head and tail. The tail would wiggle for a while. EWWW.<br />
Unfortunately, as time went by,he developed a rare cancer in his bladder. He would pee all over the house, rarely in the litter box. The pet urine cleaners (who'd want THAT job?) told us when we called them for a second cleaning, that there was too much urine. We wound up replacing most of the carpet in our house. When the end was near, we had a talk with our kids, telling them that our pet was suffering and that we would have to put him down. They were reluctant, but after a few days of observing him, they changed their minds. They spent his last full day with him, carrying him around, petting him, trying to get him to drink. Then we took him to the vet, said good-bye, and cried.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-19271976163583035142010-07-21T11:12:00.000-07:002010-07-21T11:12:25.926-07:00Having Fun With My KidsWhen my kids were little we had a VCR tape of the Wizard of Oz. They were totally addicted. One day on Mr. Rogers, he had the woman who played the bad witch on his show. She was a grandmother, who liked reading to the grandkids. Then he showed her a cape and witches hat. She put them on and laughed her evil cackle. My 1 ½ year old stuck her thumb in her mouth and was transfixed. <br />
A couple of years later, we took our kids to Disney MGM (at that time). We took the Great Movie Ride and to my delight, at the Alien section, the creature stuck its head out of the ceiling and was right above my 5 year old. She screamed and I put my arm around her and laughed. <br />
Years later when she was 17 and my youngest was 10 we watched the Stephen King movie “It”. I think I kind of ruined the movie for my older kids because I kept mentioning that I saw the actors in other TV shows. Anyway, my son never complained of nightmares. <br />
The following year we went to a Haunted Halloween Walk. I explained to him that everyone was wearing masks. Well, one of the characters was a demented-looking clown. Well, once the guy realized that my son was scared, he followed him all the way through to the end. Luckily, he, for some reason, he grew up to be afraid of spiders. What?<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-15583666647452453132010-07-20T12:11:00.001-07:002010-07-20T12:11:34.676-07:00Climbing back out - AGAINI go through periods of depression. So far I haven’t seen a therapist. My oldest daughter takes after me, and I don’t know if we can afford two therapists, so she may do it first. I not only lost myself, I’ve given myself to other people. I love my husband, but he can be very negative and I am very much affected by the atmosphere that I am in. I have talked to him about it but it doesn’t seem to sink in that we both have to change. I guess we both feel that everything would be fine if the other person changes.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597909965614907408.post-64479738623922493072010-07-17T16:46:00.000-07:002010-07-17T16:46:22.109-07:00Do Europeans Hate Americans or Vice VersaI was in Rome when Barack Obama was elected. Someone told me that their President was a lot like George Bush. I don’t think he meant it as a compliment. <br />
The year before I was in a pub in London eating dinner and after I told the waitress what I wanted, he started criticizing Bush in a very loud voice. I ignored him because, hey, he was right, and I was an Obama supporter. Besides, I did not want to stoop to the jerk’s level.<br />
I generally have not been aware of any rudeness in any of the places I visited in Europe because I am an American. Of course, I only know a few phrases in foreign languages. I do however, have a great deal of respect for the countries that I visit. <br />
If any Europeans want to come and visit my area in Southwest Florida, I can guarantee that Floridians would be very happy to see you.<div class="blogger-post-footer">twitter: mysteryj33914</div>mysteryjewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341904339068114398noreply@blogger.com0