Saying yes...

And what is your source of shame?

Borrowed from the Pragmatic Progressive Page on FB:

 

Bunting Addict (Updated with arrow embellishment)

I'm so wanting another hit of bunting action that my eyes are constantly scanning the view outside my window... He was here this morning. He's  been back this afternoon. I don't know why I feel so antsy, feeling like I'll never see one AGAIN! But I am... I'm feeling antsy...  hoping for more. My brother said they're usually in groups so look out for the moment when you see 5 or 6!!! I said I'd probably faint.

Anyhow, back to working on stuff on the computer when my ever-vigilant eyes picked up a flash of blue!!!

A bigger flash of blue...

Could it be???

I wasn't sure. It was farther away and wasn't moving, but still... I grabbed the camera and took a shot, and then the wind kicked up and moved the bush that my bunting/s was/were perched on...

It was my neighbor's recycling can....

Morning dreams and earworms...

Woke up... fell back asleep... had a bizarre dream about being on vacation, but had to switch hotel rooms because our one room was possessed. We left so fast, I left my bag and a $900 in cash... I wanted to go back in to get it, but the door would not open more than 3 inches, and when I even got it that far, all I saw was pitch black darkness, and heard something growl.  I stopped at the hotel chapel... the priest suggested I have friends go in to retrieve the money, but I was not supposed to.

Next... in our new room, I am attacked by spiders and dragonflies, but realize they are wooden, robotic creatures that are also tiny Christmas ornaments, and when I take a closer look, see there is printing on their sides that says "Thank you for visiting!" and gives the name of the hotel...

Grizzled's response to this dream?

"You're a strange woman... and you're obviously afraid of money! GO GET THE MONEY!"

Playing all during the dream?? And stuck in my head all morning??

May all of your beers be non-berry... and may your weekend be good. :)

No, this is not a post... but just a place to post a song I had forgotten about... that reminds me why I love a certain place... even if it's not on an ocean.

Have a good weekend! I may or may not be back on Monday... depending on the schedule... and the blogging waters... They seem different these days.

Parts is Parts...

Stop reading if female parts scare you...

Laura's and fish's posts, as well as political discourse, has brought back memories... memories of being a young, single woman in the city... with a very dismal and unreliable paycheck. I believe I was working freelance jobs along with two part-time jobs... but still, paying for medical care was an issue, so I went to one of the Planned Parenthood-inspired places. It was not officially PP, but was basically the same deal. You paid for what you could, and most prices were reasonable.

Even though we were well into the latter half of the 80's, this place was right out of the 70's. Lots of ferns, lots of paneling, lots of Free to Be... You and Me stuff on the walls. I was fine with FTB...YAM, but did not necessarily want it every time I went for a check-up. It got even worse once I had to go a little more often. You see, you could not get your beloved birth control pills if your blood pressure was too high. I am notorious for having low blood pressure, but when in this place, with all of the questions, all of the doubtful looks, mine would shoot sky-high.

"We'll give you a month's worth of birth control pills, but you  must come back and prove you're BP is ok!"

Before these visits I would chant... think of dolphins, think of dolphins, think of dolphins...

But when they'd come in to check me out and would ask something that merited a smart-ass answer, with me giving it, and them taking me seriously, my BP would shoot sky high. I knew the drill... take the woman, who may or may not be abused, to a dark room... and let her think of dolphins for 10 minutes. Test again.

Most of the time I could chill, and the Rx was mine.

There was one time though that 3 women came into the room and suggested it was time to get to know my body.

Huh?? I was in my 20's! I knew my body?? What do you mean?? Know my body??

They produced a plastic speculum and a mirror... I kid you not. I scanned the ferns for hidden cameras...

They told me no women truly owns herself until she can examine herself... see the beauty of her cervix. I told them I was fine with a hidden cervix. My cervix was doing what it needed to do and I also trusted the professionals who checked it out...

They took this 'no' as an issue. I was like, "No, you don't get it... I was raised by a very down to earth mother who was nurse and called a spade a spade. Sure, my father might have been a little squeamish about the workings of daughterly parts, but Mom was fully on board with open discussion. I don't have issues... in fact, I'd like to use my parts with the man I love, the man who doesn't beat me, the man who accepts me as I am... while I myself am accepting me as I am... OK?? Take the Pap test and let me be on my way!"

But they insisted... which I felt was incredibly wrong, but hey... I was at peace with my parts, and as I mentioned, wanted to freely use my parts, so I did it. Woo-hoo! Look at my cervix! Woo-hoo! Yay! It looks like... a cervix... Can I go now???

They tried to give me a speculum to take home, but I think I shocked them when I said I preferred the flesh variety. Fortunately, soon after, I got insurance and was able to go to a Dr, who never once suggested I get in touch with my cervix... a Dr who seemed to understand that I was hip to my stuff... but relied on a professional to look up under my chassis.

(Heh... when I go to add a link to type up above, TypePad says, "Insert Link"... See?? These are the kind of thoughts that got me into trouble at the Women's place!)

When feelings and music mix... but shouldn't...

After BG's comment, I was thinking of posting a few more YouTubes of songs that reminded me of males from the past... whether males that I actually interacted with, or merely worshipped from afar... Yes, Vincent Van Patten and Willie Ames (Swiss Family Robinson Willie Aames, not Eight is Enough, thank you!)... you know I loved you both!  And then I realized, some were just horrendously embarassing! We can't always control what our brain anchors onto when Cupid zaps our heart! I'm talking about you, Barry Manilow!!! As Grizzled said when we were combining album collections...

G: Who in the hell has THREE Barry Manilow albums??

Me: HEY!!! I was once an 12 yr-old girl who grew up with Top 40 AM! He struck a chord... I couldn't help it!

G: OK, but that doesn't mean you have to keep them!

Me: But that would be like scrubbing my past, and I'm not going to do that. I will probably never listen to them again, but they do mark a point in time...

Yes, when going over my list, I was more embarrassed than not... but not too embarassed to share some... Go ahead, toss your judgmental daggers! I can take it. These were, and still are, associated with LUV!

 

 

 

 

I heard this song today...

...and was whisked back to the 3rd grade... my love for Robin S, as sure a thing as any 3rd grader can experience. I was thrilled when we were asked to stay a few minutes after school to clean the blackboards. I remember as he stepped up onto the piano bench to reach the top of the boards, I noticed he was wearing the absolutely most heinous pair of Toughskins... and like that, it was over.

Manic Monday

Between the unrelenting crazy-ass WINDS and maybe a little bit too much coffee, I'm feeling a little bit like this today...

The darkest hour is just before dawn...

We stayed in a number of different places while on the road. Some were chosen in advance... some were merely chosen by where we wanted to go that day or when we wanted to stop. One thing did not change... when we got there, Grizzled let me decide which side of the bed I was sleeping on.

Grizzled and I have been sharing beds for over 2 decades now. He said he used to think I always chose the same side, no matter the room, but he soon learned that was wrong. He then said he thought it was the side farthest away from the door, but that wasn't right either. He then realized it was safest to just let me pick... my picking being done the minute I walk in. I sense the side I want and plop my stuff down. I have been known to switch sides during a visit though if the room doesn't feel right, even though I know switching sides won't necessarily help. Sometimes the bed is just off.

We stayed in one of these rooms while on the road. It did not feel good to me and neither did the bed. I woke up in the middle of the night, certain something was in front of me. I could feel it. If I opened my eyes, I'd see it and I didn't want to. I also knew I had a chair next to my side of the bed and had put a bunch of my stuff in it so that was probably it. I opened my eyes and sure enough, saw a large, dark mass. I reached out, felt one of my bags and then something else that didn't feel familiar. I jumped and made some panicked noise.  I snatched my hand back in as fast as I could, pulled up the covers even though it was hot, and inched over to Grizzled's side... slowly enough that he wouldn't realize he only had 5 inches on which to sleep... and then I waited... it was a long night.

I'm not afraid of a lot, but my senses/imagination can have their way with me in the dark. Maybe it was too many horror movies as a kid... one too many scary novels, or camping out with friends and trying to scare the bejesus out of each other... or my brothers, who liked to torment like only brothers can... I like to be scared, but when I choose. I don't like to be afraid at night, which is why I'm glad I don't have to sleep alone... even when I was alone, I still had a dog. 

I remember when I was much younger and my grandmother was still alive and living by herself, I would ask her if she was afraid at night, wasn't she tempted to sleep with a light on... somewhere?? (She had a creepy basement with dirt walls... and a scary attic... those two places would immediately pop into my mind if I was staying overnight at her otherwise wonderful house....) She said she grew up with no electricity so darkness did not bother her. She also had the Lord to look over her... Well, Grandma's Lord gave me a wicked imagination that likes to mess with me... so again, I am glad I don't have to sleep alone. I am also glad I have someone who can sleep anywhere... and doesn't mind that I need to pick my side of the bed... or who doesn't mind when I leave him only 5 inches to sleep on because I am sure that something out of Grandma's basement is sitting next to my side.

The sinister wooly bison still haunts me... and it was in our hotel room that night... I know it.

The internet makes the world even smaller... and explaining... even more awkward

It's another busy week and I'm not in the mood for blogging (it seems so 1992), but this draft was burning a hole in my post cache:

The other night, in my evening painting class, I had a moment of my real life meeting up with my internet life, which in many areas, has also become my real life...

A semi-retired gentleman who is taking my class mentioned that he had attended a boring lecture the other day. I happened to know that a certain blogger was in the area giving a talk, although I doubted it was boring... still, I had to ask.

Me: "So, was it about blah, blah, blah??"

Him: "No... it was about feral cat colonies, but I did have a colleague who attended the talk you mentioned. How did you know about it??"

Me: "A friend of mine was giving one of the talks."

Him: "Really?? Does he know so and so??"

Me: "I'm not sure, I'll text him."

Me: "Yes, he does. He had dinner with him."

Him: "Wow! Now how do you know this person again?"

Me: "He's a friend."

Him: "I know... you said that, but how do you know him? Where did you meet?"

This is the point I dread in almost any conversation I have where I KNOW someone in REAL LIFE, but then have to explain that I met them online... and somehow, it takes a turn for creepy.

I told the gentleman in my class that this person and I belonged to the same creative blogging group... a group that was set up so people could share writing, art, thoughts, etc, in an area outside of work. I didn't tell him that meeting most of these people was totally random. I made it sound like there was some rhyme or reason to it...

It seemed to appease him. Or he sensed that maybe it was better not to ask anymore. Sensing he sensed this, I told him that my ENTIRE family(including dogs) had socialized with this person and some of his kids. That seemed to make it better.

I then thought of times when I've had to explain something else that's been going on in my life... a project I've been working on with someone... someone I never thought I'd have any interaction with, but am so thankful I do. The few times it has come up in conversation, and this person's name comes up, I get the inevitable question... "How did you meet this person?? What brought you together??"

I then get to decide of I tell the truth, that I met this person as a cupcake, or do I tell them, we met through friends... :) Personally, I like the first answer.