Personal Space?

January 28, 2009

Twice within the last week I have heard the phrase “my personal space”. The funny thing is the first time was by a beautiful almost 4 year old. I was visiting a friend and the two sisters age 6 and 4 were getting ready for bed. An altercation occurred and the 6 year old was crying. When asked what happened, she replied that the 4 year old had scratched her. When the 4 year old was asked why she scratched her sister she replied, “I needed my personal space.” Well I thought that was the best answer I had heard in a while but I tried to stay out of the situation and not laugh out loud!

A few days later I was watching TV and heard a man tell another man he was in his personal space. Since then I’ve been thinking about it and I’ve decided that personal space is so, well, personal. Who knew? Not only that but it means different things to different people, thus making it personal. Duh!

Sometimes when we declare the loudest “get out of my personal space” the truth is we really want the invader to come even closer. We have become a society of isolationist. We communicate via electronics; we spend more time separated than together and moving apart instead of closer. How sad. So the next time someone says to you “get out of my personal space” maybe what they really want is a hug. But you better make sure you’re reading the situation correctly or you may find your personal space invaded by a flying fist. And that I imagine would be very personal indeed.

Curly Hair Madness

January 24, 2009

Have you ever noticed that women with curly hair want straight hair and women with straight hair want curly hair? What’s up with that? I happen to be on the curly hair side. I’ve been enjoying the cooler weather recently because the humidity is low. If you can imagine, I use a curling iron to straighten my hair! Now there is something just wrong about that. But as with many things in our culture, this is just one more thing that is backwards. Everyone has heard the comedians saying, “You drive on a Parkway and park on a driveway”. Well I straighten my hair with a curling iron. For me it’s pretty easy, I do the same thing everyday. The difference now is that with the humidity low, my hair stays straight. Well it’s really more straight-ish.

The strange thing about my hair is that the curl is different on different parts of my head. The bangs and sides are not as curly, but the back is very curly. Because of this as a child my mother insisted that it ALL be curly. That meant a Toni perm. Oh nooooo! I still shudder as I remember the box on the kitchen sink. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I had to sit still for hours, as she placed tiny curler after tiny curler into my hair, the solution smelled awful. I’m sure there are many of you out there that just had a flashback. Remember that pungent smell that burned your eyes as well as your head? Unfortunately this was the good part. Once this was all done my mother than had to remove all those little curlers. This was never without incident. The curlers would always get tangled and before it was over there were tears. Mine of course. Then it really got ugly. I mean that sincerely, ugly! My hair, I looked like the poster child for Little Orphan Annie! Instead of white circle eyes, I had big blue circle eyes. (All pictures were in black and white in those days and my eyes just looked like holes.) The only good thing about this entire experience, all the other little girls in my class looked just like me. I think all of our mothers banded together and ordered a case of Toni perms.

We were all reassured that “in a few days” the curls would loosen and it would be pretty. Well “in a few days” turned into weeks and I was still waiting for the pretty. Then it happened, one day I got up and I looked normal and yes even pretty. I couldn’t wait to get to school and show the other girls that I really did have pretty hair. I held my head high and ran down the hall to the kitchen for breakfast. I was so pleased with my normal hair. As I was about to start what was surely to be a great day, I was stopped dead in my tracks. There on the kitchen counter sat a brand new Toni perm! And so, the cycle continues.

Reflections on the Inauguration
January 23, 2009

As I watched President Barack Obama take the oath of office I was transported back to my childhood. I grew up on the northern end of the South. I lived in the West Virginia area. Now West Virginia is an enigma. I was taught that it is the Northern most Southern state, the Southern most Northern state, the Eastern most Western state and the Western most Eastern state. Basically we don’t know where we belong! It really depends on where you live in the state. I was in the northern panhandle. The area wasn’t really segregated but many nooks and grannies were.

When I was in elementary school there were only two black children in our school, a boy in my older brother’s class and his sister in mine. It didn’t seem odd to me at the time but I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. I shall call them Billy and Bessie. Other than the color of their skin I didn’t notice that much difference between us, but our second grade teacher did. I’ll just call her Mrs. Nurse Ratchet or MNR for short. Now MNR and her husband both taught at our school and to give you some idea of the situation, they both had taught my dad and they were old then. So by the time I was there they were ancient, and cranky.

There was another little girl in my class that I’ll call Sally. She and Bessie became best friends. It was no secret that MNR did not like this. She would often punish both girls for holding hands on the playground. I don’t know just what she thought Bessie was supposed to do or whom she was to play with since she was the only black child in our class, but I guess MNR didn’t care as long as it wasn’t with a white child.

As I watched the Inauguration I couldn’t help but wonder where Bessie and Sally are today almost 50 years later. I do however think I know where MNR is and I just hope she isn’t too hot!

Shaking My Shack

January 21, 2009

What a day this has been what a rare mood I’m in why it’s almost like being in love. That’s enough of the song but I’ve just had a wonderful experience. If you have not read “The Shack” I strongly recommend it. I believe it to be the best book I’ve ever read and tonight I had the opportunity to meet the author William Paul Young. What an interesting, gracious, honest fellow. It is hard to explain any of this if you have not read the book. But the book is a life changing experience.

This beautiful story is the tale of a father who loses a child and then meets God in the middle of the woods inside a dirty old shack. Young presents the Holy Trinity in such a way that makes them come alive with truth and honesty. He is truly a man after God’s heart… and God has blessed him richly.

I am reminded of what a fraud I am. My thin veneer is about to break open and expose my old, dirty rundown shack and I’m not sure I’m ready for it. Once God breaks us open there are only two ways to go, and that is to Him or away from Him. It should be so easy yet in my chains of self-control I find it hard to let go of what I call security, but I know real security has no chains.

On the one hand knowing that I can control nothing should be comforting because if I control nothing, then nothing is my fault or my glory. But the feeling of being out of control and letting God have it all at times seems to be my greatest fear. Why am I so afraid? I know that God has a better plan than I do. I also know that he loves me and only wants good things for me so why is it so hard? Because the reality is I want God to lead me to places that I want to go and to have me do things that I want to do and I don’t want to leave my comfort zone to do what He has planned.

There I’ve said it! I want to do things my way in my time and on my schedule and it is possible that my plans may conflict with God’s plans for me. So now I have a choice to make. I can either ignore God and continue to complain about things and live in my old dirty shack with a very thin veneer or I can follow God and rest in the knowledge that He has a better plan. That His shack is a beautiful cottage in the middle of a bucolic garden surrounded by love and peace and grace and truth. It may be hard but I choose love and truth, I choose God.

A Busy Mind

January 20, 2009

Why is it that my mind is so empty during the day but when the middle of the night comes it is sooooooo busy? I spend the day trying to remember what I need to do, how I’m going to do it (if I remember what it was) and why I picked up my computer. Then the middle of the night comes and all of a sudden my mind kicks into high gear. I awaken to a flurry of activity exploding in my head and my eyes are wide-awake. I try to quiet the noise and yet it sounds like I’m in a stadium full of people and they’re all talking to me at once. One person is singing a song that I can’t remember the lyrics too, another is yelling about what I have to do in the morning and a few others are just having conversations that I can’t understand but they are very enthusiastic about something.

Finally I get out of bed and go to the living room. I pick up my computer and start to release all the wisdom that comes pouring out. I type as fast as my chubby little fingers will go and I know that what I am writing is of great value to the nations or at least to some very important world leaders. My fingers race across the keys and I feel a sense of power and wisdom that eludes me in the daylight hours. Surely this will be one of the finest pieces ever written and people will be discussing it in classrooms throughout the world for decades to come. My name will become synonymous with all the great writers, Shakespeare, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Betty Crocker… (Go ahead and laugh but who among us doesn’t own a Betty Crocker in our collection, huh!), and the list goes on and on.

Finally I feel a peace as all the pent up energy is spent with my incredible words of wisdom. Having just saved the world from itself and offered pearls of wisdom I am finally free to escape back to my bed to sleep perchance to dream. Ah sweet release. Then morning comes and I rush to re read my masterpiece. I’m so excited I don’t even wait for the coffee to finish. I throw open my computer ready to share the most incredible piece of literature since Homer and then I realize, something is amiss. Somewhere in the mist of my pontificating my hands shifted. What I see before my eyes looks like a cartoon discussion in a bar! Instead of wisdom I find something that looks like this rhneklshoi vsdk sd gjidsoj theohhsjskateyjam! How can this be, I was brilliant during the night. How sad for the world to have lost such an incredible piece of… of… now what was I going to say? I guess I’ll have to wait until tonight when all my friends return to my head and I once again, have an overflowing of creativity.

Indiana Jones and the Tale of the

Fork Tongued Critic!

May 25, 2008

So I just saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I don’t care what the critics say I had a good time. I’m always amazed when I’m reminded that Movie Critics and Political Pundits are really the same people. They try to be hipper and wiser than the PoPu’s but the reality is that they aren’t smart enough to remember that what they are critiquing is a movie; it’s not real. No matter how many times the skeletons come to life I was able to discern that they weren’t real. Since I know that they aren’t real why should the critic make a point of talking about how fake they are? Or how dull the storyline? Or blah, blah, blah?

I wanted to see a movie that was fun, exciting and a way to escape for a couple of hours not to mention total permission to eat junk food! Eating chips with cheese sauce and candy are one of the few things that are totally allowed at the movies with out any penalty. So watching any movie good, bad or mediocre is worth it just on this perk alone. I have at least gotten to the point that I don’t read the review until after I’ve seen the movie. It’s so much easier to disagree with them after I’ve done my own review.

As for my review, I loved it. Harrison Ford looks great and still has all of the spark he had in the previous movies. Karen Allen looks amazing and it was great to see her. Shia LaBeouf really has a bright future and he was just adorable. Cate Blanchett is as good as they get and I just love to watch her on screen I don’t care what she’s doing. I can’t imagine anyone who is a fan of the series not liking this installment. If they don’t then maybe they should become a critic and spend their days saying blah, blah, blah to all the PoPu’s.

Venus versus Mars

May 23, 2008

How do I offend thee, let me count the ways 1, 2, 3…

Well here it is the end of the day and I’ve managed to offend not one but two Martians. Who knew it would be so easy and I wasn’t even trying. Nameless Martian number one became offended when I had the temerity to answer a question that he asked. What was I thinking? I must remember that when a Martian asks a Venusian a question the only acceptable answers is “oh I agree with you exactly I only wish I could have said it first so you would know that I’m absolutely not pandering to your Martian ego.”

Just about recovered from that and sure enough Nameless Martian number two tells me he is having a hard time answering my question because he doesn’t want to be too critical especially since I am so defensive. It turns out that during a different session I offered what I thought was an additional comment to his comments and here I’m now informed that what I was doing was negating his comments and passing the blame to someone else. Silly me I thought I was agreeing with him and giving him another reason why he was right about what he was saying. Apparently your right in Venusian when translated into Martian means I’m criticizing you, you Martian pig. Who know?? I really need to work on my translations before speaking to another Martian or else I need to find an interpreter that is fluent in Venusian and Martian.

The really strange thing is that I’ve always considered myself to be a Venusian with strong Martian logic. But however it seems that Martian logic coming from a Venusian no matter how Martian like is still Venusian. Oh well I guess I need to update my Martian to Venusian (or vice versa) translation dictionary. So exactly how do you say “Grow up!” in Martian? Oh here it is “Oh big strong Martian, please teach this lowly dumb Venusian how I may serve you better”. Wait according to the dictionary that’s how you say everything to a Martian. No wonder I’m having such a hard time. Sometimes Venus seems so far away… no far, far away… no far, far, far…

If I Were a Highway, I’d Be Route 66

February 22, 2008

Over the last 6 to 8 months I’ve been getting a lot of stuff on Route 66. Let me explain. You know how sometimes you see something, and then before you know it, everywhere you look you see that same thing. That’s how it was for me with Route 66. Now when these things happen I believe that God is trying to tell me something. Let me give you some examples. One day I saw something on Route 66 and I thought wouldn’t it be fun to travel what’s left of it. Then the next day or so I was watching a documentary and they were traveling over Route 66. That same night I go to a dinner party and I have a Route 66 cup holder. Actually one of the other people at our table had one too. Out of five tables and about 40 people, we had the only two-cup holders with the Route 66 logo on it.

So once I’ve been beat over the head enough I finally get it and start to ask what is this all about. I started to research the subject and thanks to the Google guru’s I came to the conclusion that there are 66 books in the Bible and that God was telling me to spend more time in His word. That’s the Readers Digest version. I understood what He was saying and I was happy to finally figure it out.

But since that time, I’ve been thinking about it and I realized that if I were a highway I’d be Route 66. I mean think about it. When it was new it was beautiful and everyone was really excited. The same could be said about me. I was a beautiful baby and everyone was thrilled, except for my older brother that is. As the highway continued it grew to become a reliable way to travel. Once again as I grew I became a very responsible young person, but I still had a ways to go.

By now the highway was complete and people were using it to get to places. People weren’t using me but I did become a resource for taking people places; first in carpools than through advertising etc. Now the road has been decommissioned and although I may not be obsolete (a least not yet) I am a 50-50. (Ref previous blog) All of my connections don’t work as well as they should and I could certainly use with a highway beautification program.

Route 66 is called the Mother Road and I feel like I carry the Mother load. (Pun intended) one other similarity, Route 66 since it’s decommission has become romanticized. The PoPu’s who truly believe that I’m not smart enough to make up my own mind and vote as an intelligent adult too has romanticized me. They kind of smile and nod there head, just like at old Aunt Bertha and sigh about the good old days when I was still young enough that no on believed I was a grandmother.

But then again, I am a 50-50 and there really is nothing romantic about that now is there? Leave it to the PoPu’s to even ruin romance. Oh well that’s my thoughts for today. Think about me the next time you see Route 66 and remember for a brief and shinning moment I was young, beautiful and a very good way to get from point A to point B. Maybe some day I’ll make it all the way to Z and it won’t be because I’m sleeping (zzzzzz) Ahhh that one might dream.

Welcome to My Blog
Valentine’s Day 2008

Hello and welcome to my blog. I need to explain why the dates don't match. I had the idea for this blog last year and have been writing but not posting. So today I have decided that it is time so my earlier thougths will have the actual date in the title. Just pretend it's the correct date and not that it has been sitting around for a year.

My first thought as I start this is very much like Admiral Stockdale, “who am I and why am I here?” those of you who understand that will think it’s funny, those of you who don’t get it, well it’s not funny enough to explain, so I’ll move on. Who am I? Well until recently I didn’t know, but thanks to all of the Political Pundits, I can now say that I am a 50-50. You may ask what is a 50-50? Well apparently I’m a white female, over 50 years old, making under $50,000 a year without a college degree. As if I didn’t feel badly enough about my life, I find that I’m in the most prosaic category available. Right smack dap in the middle. 50-50… boring. Which brings me to why am I here? I’m not sure really. Often when I read a lifestyle column I think, I could write that. But then I realize that no one will pay me to write that so I’ve decided to write it here.

Let’s talk more about the Political Pundits. I’ve had a real hard time so far with the Presidential 08 coverage. I find it hard to believe that Political Pundits have so much power in this country that they can tell me who the Republican candidate is before most of the country has even voted. Yes, I’m a Republican, sort of. My moral values won’t allow me to be a Democrat, but I’m too liberal to be a conservative and too conservative to be a liberal. So I think I’ll be a Relibricon, it’s a little known party. I only have one delegate and my convention is very small, it’s just a bunch of voices in my head and me. But we have a great logo and of course matching shoes. Back to the Pundits, they have decided that I’m a 50-50, ugh, and they talk about it as if I would like being referred to in this way. Does anyone else think it appropriate that Pundit starts with P-U? Since Political starts with P-O, from now on the Political Pundits will be known by me (and the Relibricon Party) as PoPu’s.

This blog is not intended to be a Political blog that just happens to be on my mind tonight. Who knows what will be on my mind tomorrow. I can’t wait to find out.