Friday, February 18, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Dancing in the Rain
You know the saying "it's not how you survive the storm, but how you dance in the rain"? I'm taking that to heart today!
I had a sudden career change...very unplanned, if not unexpected, and certainly very untimely! I guess today I am a full time blogger! How about that? So I can sit down and cry, and say the world is unfair and all that crap; or I can keep on smiling and tell myself that this is a blessing in disguise, and my life will turn out so much better in the end. I chose the ladder! Watch me dance in the rain, and loving every minute of it!
Come bill-paying time, I might change the tune a little bit, but it will be OK.
I now have time to organize and scrub down the house; contact those friends I've been meaning to stay in touch with, volunteer at school, and write my blog. I even have time for afternoon sex....that is if I actually had someone to have sex with. But having the time is a good start!
In this economy I know I am not the only one in this situation. So here is to turning the page, leaving all negative feelings behind and looking forward to new opportunities and a better tomorrow! Cheers!
I had a sudden career change...very unplanned, if not unexpected, and certainly very untimely! I guess today I am a full time blogger! How about that? So I can sit down and cry, and say the world is unfair and all that crap; or I can keep on smiling and tell myself that this is a blessing in disguise, and my life will turn out so much better in the end. I chose the ladder! Watch me dance in the rain, and loving every minute of it!
Come bill-paying time, I might change the tune a little bit, but it will be OK.
I now have time to organize and scrub down the house; contact those friends I've been meaning to stay in touch with, volunteer at school, and write my blog. I even have time for afternoon sex....that is if I actually had someone to have sex with. But having the time is a good start!
In this economy I know I am not the only one in this situation. So here is to turning the page, leaving all negative feelings behind and looking forward to new opportunities and a better tomorrow! Cheers!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Again, Dress for Success, or not
I never really pay attention to the Hollywood crowd, but this one caught my eye today. I must be getting old(er)! In my mind, if you are accused of crime serious enough to land you behind bars for the next three years, you should do anything you can to make a good impression when going before the judge.
Again, I must be getting old(er). Did you see what Lindsay Lohan was wearing to court today?!? I wish I could wear that to a night club (frankly, I wish I could wear that at all, anywhere!), but it certainly wasn't an outfit to wear if you want to be taken serious.
But then again, I guess she has never wore a traditional conservative outfit to her court hearings; jeans, a studded jacket, and now this little creation. Not that I am planning on getting in trouble with the law, but should it ever happen, this will most certainly not be my choice of court-outfit.
Again, I must be getting old(er). Did you see what Lindsay Lohan was wearing to court today?!? I wish I could wear that to a night club (frankly, I wish I could wear that at all, anywhere!), but it certainly wasn't an outfit to wear if you want to be taken serious.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The Perfect Offspring
How often don't we measure our own success in our children's behaviour, abilities and accomplishments? At least when you feel you didn't quite live up to your own potential, it is great to know you have these wonderful offsprings to carry on the dreams.
As most parents, I think highly of my children's abilities, and try my best to install the notion that they can do anything they set their mind to. Aim high is the motto! I may have to reiterate that though. As I strolled through the school hallways today looking at poems the children had made for Martin Luther King Day, it was with high expectations of my own children's writings I worked my my way down the wall. I smiled as I read of their dreams of world peace, ending world hunger, providing housing for the homeless, ending wars and creating cures for cancer. Then I saw my son's name. But my smile faded slowly as I realized that rather than dreaming of becoming anybody or anything of importance, he is dreaming of getting tattoos, owning a motorcycle and going skydiving. Greatness in the making, in other words.
At least he is handsome. Maybe that will get him a little farther.
As most parents, I think highly of my children's abilities, and try my best to install the notion that they can do anything they set their mind to. Aim high is the motto! I may have to reiterate that though. As I strolled through the school hallways today looking at poems the children had made for Martin Luther King Day, it was with high expectations of my own children's writings I worked my my way down the wall. I smiled as I read of their dreams of world peace, ending world hunger, providing housing for the homeless, ending wars and creating cures for cancer. Then I saw my son's name. But my smile faded slowly as I realized that rather than dreaming of becoming anybody or anything of importance, he is dreaming of getting tattoos, owning a motorcycle and going skydiving. Greatness in the making, in other words.
At least he is handsome. Maybe that will get him a little farther.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Dressing Room Nightmare!
I started off the new year with a goal of getting in shape. I've worked out a little more, dropped a couple of pounds and was feeling pretty good about myself. I know it's a little early, but I decided to get ready for the summer season today. Since I had the whole day to myself, I headed for the mall, to check out the new collections of bathing suits. As if I had the perfect body, I picked through the racks of "Brazilian cut bikinis", took a few of those with me and headed for the dressing room.
The smirk on the dressing room attendant's face should have told me my choices might not be quite right, but I didn't take the hint. And standing in front of a full size mirror looking at my winter ghostly body certainly should have, but no. I insisted on continuing the charade. With my oh so comfortable K-Mart flowery cotton panties still on, I slipped into this lovely little pink and silver creation. Slipped might be a slight exaggeration. Either their sizes were a little off, or I need to rethink what size I am. But after tugging and pulling, sucking in the belly and holding my breath, I finally got it on. Oh my! The two little triangles that made up the top, was a certain guarantee for sunburned boobs. And when I stretched my arm up, the little triangle took a trip north too and the boob just popped right out...apparently they are not "securely fastened" any more. And who knew Brazilians had such small butts? If I stood perfectly still, it actually covered the crack, but as soon as I took a step or two, it lodged securely in the middle, leaving my entire ass for the view of the world. I'm pretty certain that's a view the world can do just fine without. I tightened the straps on the top almost cutting off my circulation, and stretched the bottom as far as it would go, but the end result was no different, just a little more painful.
Since the rest of the suits were the same cut, there was no use in trying any more on. I may be slow, but one of these suits was all the proof I needed that I am pretty far from Brazilian. Now I realized why the attendant had the smirk on her face when she handed me the number 5 tag. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being handed back all five, I handed her four along with the tag and took the little pink and silver thing with me. I could tell she was holding back the laughter, but I held my head high and walked out of the dressing room, hiding the bikini behind my purse. I hung it on the clearance rack where I found an over sized sweatshirt for next to nothing.
Good thing it was Superbowl Sunday! In my over sized sweatshirt, I now had an excuse to drown my disappointment in a few beers, and gorge on pizza, chips and dip and all that other good stuff. I checked my old suit. It may be a little faded, but it'll do fine for another season. I'll probably try this again next year, but I'll look for the Mid-Western style then.
The smirk on the dressing room attendant's face should have told me my choices might not be quite right, but I didn't take the hint. And standing in front of a full size mirror looking at my winter ghostly body certainly should have, but no. I insisted on continuing the charade. With my oh so comfortable K-Mart flowery cotton panties still on, I slipped into this lovely little pink and silver creation. Slipped might be a slight exaggeration. Either their sizes were a little off, or I need to rethink what size I am. But after tugging and pulling, sucking in the belly and holding my breath, I finally got it on. Oh my! The two little triangles that made up the top, was a certain guarantee for sunburned boobs. And when I stretched my arm up, the little triangle took a trip north too and the boob just popped right out...apparently they are not "securely fastened" any more. And who knew Brazilians had such small butts? If I stood perfectly still, it actually covered the crack, but as soon as I took a step or two, it lodged securely in the middle, leaving my entire ass for the view of the world. I'm pretty certain that's a view the world can do just fine without. I tightened the straps on the top almost cutting off my circulation, and stretched the bottom as far as it would go, but the end result was no different, just a little more painful.
Since the rest of the suits were the same cut, there was no use in trying any more on. I may be slow, but one of these suits was all the proof I needed that I am pretty far from Brazilian. Now I realized why the attendant had the smirk on her face when she handed me the number 5 tag. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being handed back all five, I handed her four along with the tag and took the little pink and silver thing with me. I could tell she was holding back the laughter, but I held my head high and walked out of the dressing room, hiding the bikini behind my purse. I hung it on the clearance rack where I found an over sized sweatshirt for next to nothing.
Good thing it was Superbowl Sunday! In my over sized sweatshirt, I now had an excuse to drown my disappointment in a few beers, and gorge on pizza, chips and dip and all that other good stuff. I checked my old suit. It may be a little faded, but it'll do fine for another season. I'll probably try this again next year, but I'll look for the Mid-Western style then.
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