Wheels Up!

After 18 months of planning, the big day has finally arrived. Tomorrow morning I head to the airport at 7:30am for our church choir's singing mission trip to Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic.

We will arrive in Munich at 7:50 am Friday morning (their time) and return from Berlin on June 30th. From Munich, we take our "luxury" tour bus to Salzburg Austria where we will visit Herrenchiemsee Castle, the Residenz (where the child prodigy Mozart often played), and Salzburg Cathedral, world renowned for its 4,000 pipe organ. We will also visit Mozart's House.

We go on from there to visit Passau and Karlovy Vary (which is in the Czech Republic and known for its glasswares and garnets!) I also understand there are some magnificent spas there, but I doubt we'll have time to indulge.

From there, we make a solemn visit to Buchenwald -- the site of a WWII concentration camp. We will be singing our second concert at a church which overlooks the site. Wow.

We go from there to Weimar, Eisenach and Erfurt where we will visit the places where Martin Luther translated the Bible into German, the historic St. George's church and St. Mary's Cathedral where Luther was ordained.

Then, it's off to Dresden, then Leipzig, Wittenberg and finally Berlin where we will do our final concert. There are four concerts in all.

Our repertoire includes:

• O, When Shall I See Jesus? - The Sacred Harp, 1844
• Come Thou Fount from An American Triptych - Setting by Leo Nestor
• Amazing Grace (acapella, with flute interludes) - Arranged by Richard Proulx
• Alleluia from Cantata No. 142 - J.S. Bach, arr. Walter Ehret
• Alleluia - Ed Harris
• Alleluia from Place of the Blest - Randall Thompson
• Komm in mein Herzenshaus, from Kantate No. 80, Ein Feste Burg Ist unser Gott - Johann Sebastian Bach
• Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) - Arr Hal H. Hopson
• Jubilate - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
• Laudate Dominum from Vesperae solennes de confessore (K. 339) - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
• Requiem - John Leavitt (a seven-movement work)

Our program at Buchenwald will include:

• Kol Nidre - Max Bruch
• Adonai R'oi (Psalm 23) - Gerald Cohen
• Credo - Jane M. Marshall (text based on an inscription found in a Cologne cellar where Jews hid, and Mark 9:24)
• Mourner's Kaddish

I will be back on June 30th and will try to have some pictures and wonderful stories to share.
It should be an amazing trip!

On Turning 42

This week I turned 42. That's really all I have to say about that.

As I reflect on the events surrounding the big day, it strikes me more than anything that the person who should know me best, doesn't know me at all. For example, I always seem to receive the most un-me presents from "A". One year, I got a bike... another year I got a sattelite radio... another a television. This year, I got a gold-dipped rose. It's lovely, I suppose, in a gaudy sort of way... but I have absolutely no clue what I'm supposed to DO with it! I don't mean to sound ungrateful... I appreciate the thought... really, I do... but a gold-dipped rose?

We did go to a great new restaurant though... at least I thought it was great. I was thoroughly enjoying myself -- tasting the wine flights that were paired with my meal of slow roasted rotisserie chicken pulled from the bone and sautéed with artichoke hearts, kalamata olives, crimini mushrooms and fresh herbs, finished in a smoked tomato and balsamic vinegar reduction (oh, but I digress) -- when "A" proclaimed that the reason he likes the desert and sailing is because it's away from people -- it's quiet, peaceful and serene -- and restaurants like the one we were sitting in make him feel uncomfortable and drive him crazy. I LOVED the restaurant. I LOVED being in the midst of people having a good time -- talking, laughing and carrying on. I LOVED being right in the middle of LIFE! That's when it struck me -- like a Mack truck on a downhill incline -- this is just not going to work. That realization took the wind out of my sails... sapped my appetite for the scrumptious cheesecake flight I was about to order and turned my mood from a bubbly champagne to a brooding Bordeaux.

Things didn't improve much when we got home. We settled in to watch a movie -- which he slept through -- and although we had planned for him to spend the night, I woke up alone this morning. He crept out in the middle of the night... didn't leave a note or anything. Guess he was disappointed that he didn't get 'dessert' either. Sorry... guess that's TMI.

I don't know how to reconcile these differences. Even if we split our time 50/50 between solitude and society, one of us will always be out of our element and miserable. Frankly, neither being miserable nor being with someone who's miserable particularly appeals to me. THIS is what faces me upon turning 42.

So, where is June?

Seems that Blogger is filing my June posts away in some deep, dark hole... Ah... the joys of technology.

Today was my nieces' recital -- one played piano and the other guitar. That was two torturous hours of my life I'd like to have back -- save for the sweet moments when they each sat beside me and put their heads on my shoulder. I love my girls.

"A" was supposed to come over today. It seems that I'm always going to his apartment... and even when he does stop by here, he rarely stays longer than a few minutes. It's as if he can't wait to get out the door -- like a goblin's gonna get him if he doesn't run away. Anyway, tonight, I was going to cook dinner and we were going to hang out here. When I called, he asked for a rain check. I wasn't surprised... a bit disappointed... but not surprised. I don't think we'll ever manage to live together again. We just want different things... and we each want them passionately. We have some wonderful moments together... but are moments enough to sustain a relationship for a lifetime? I don't know the answer to that.

I have an idea baking for a new website for me... I just have to identify enough public domain songs so that I can put together a nice repertoire without getting into any hot water. I think I'm going to throw my hat into the ring and see if I can get a band to pick me up as a vocalist. I've been haunting the audition boards here of late... I definitely have itchy feet (as my friend Tammy put it). I'll keep you posted.

A Fork in the Road

Yesterday I came upon a fork in the road... no, really, a four-pronged fork sitting on the road. I had to swerve to miss it. Perhaps we should ask Master Ron to interpret that one for us!

Yeah... but what does it MEAN?

So, in the wee-small-hours of the morn, I had this bizarre dream. In the dream, I was at the gym and one of the girls invited me to an event -- free overnight stay at an oceanfront hotel just for attending a 10 hour meeting the next day. I asked what the meeting was about and she said it was to become a Curves instructor. I promptly said, "I could do that!"

Not wanting to ignore signals from the Universe, I looked up opportunities at Curves... but really... when is it a "sign" and when is it just a crazy dream?

Things that make ya go, "hmmmmm..."

Last weekend, "A" (I guess I should re-name Mr. Small -- since we are no longer in a name-calling phase of our relationship) and I went out for Sunday Dinner at a local seafood restaurant. He was in a bit of a testy mood -- had been most of the weekend. As we sat there waiting for the copious amounts of food that he had ordered, a couple came in -- accompanied by a younger woman and sat at a table within my range of vision. I looked at the woman and thought that she looked very familiar. Everyone in the restaurant started buzzing around their table and, finally, the owner (or maybe head chef) came and sat down with them. As I stared at her (I hope not too apparently) trying to figure out who the heck she was, all of a sudden it dawned on me... it was my psychic! Well, she's not MINE, but she's the one I saw and about whom I wrote a while back!

The sight of her sent my mind back to her 'predictions' and I started reading back through my journal and my post about her on the blog. One of the things that she said to me was that I should find a house with the view that I want. That's always been a bit of a sticking point with me and "A" because he's a bit anti-social and wants to live out in the middle of nowhere and I want to live in a condo or small cottage by the ocean or on the bay. I thought we had reached an agreement -- that we would find a house with a water view. Well, over the Memorial Day Holiday, "A" got a bit in his cups and started talking about "the next house" he buys... once again, we were back to the "middle of nowhere" discussion. It makes me wonder if he was ever sincere about our compromise. It was not a very reassuring weekend and has me questioning the ground I thought we had gained.

It's That Time of Year

I'm learning something about myself these days. I'm learning that I'm a malcontent. I've been working for my current company for eighteen months... and I'm over it. No, really... I mean it... I'm over it! The working weekends, nights, driving all over hell's half acre to meet with people who don't even bother to show up 40% of the time. I am 100% pure-t OVER IT!!!

But here's the problem... I'm over it every 18 months and have been for these past 25 years. Do you know how long my resume would be if I listed ALL of my jobs? If I were an employer looking at my resume, I wouldn't hire me! LOL

Yep, it's that time of year -- only this year, I think I've run out of "do-overs." Guess I'll just have to figure out a way to be un-over-it. Any suggestions?

I've been away too long...

I promise to do better -- to write more often. Really, I do!

Sand

As I was straightening up this past weekend, I ran across a Journal that I started back in February of 2004 -- when Mr. Small and I were first facing separation. I took a weekend away down in North Carolina and did some writing while I was there. I actually wrote the following short story. I titled it: Sand.

A beautiful sea creature lives and frolics in the ocean deep -- safe within her beautiful shell. Tossed about by the waves, one day she washes up on a beach. Just as she nestles into the warm, soft sand, sea gulls begin to swoop and dive -- pecking at her beautiful shell, until at last it opens and its tender contents are devoured.

The tides rise and fall and, over time, the beautiful shell is worn smooth by the churning ocean waves. Years pass, and the shell continues the cycle: resting on the beach at low tide -- only to be swept once more into the chaotic sea as the tide comes in. This cycle seems to go unnoticed by the world and the shell bears her journey alone.

With each passing year, she becomes smaller and her memory of the beautiful sea creature she once was is but a faded memory. Bleached by the sun and tumbled by the sea, the shell bears no resemblance to her former glory. Even so, she basks in the sun on a bright winter morning.

All of a sudden, a careless traveller treads on her -- shattering her tiny, shimmering frame into a million pieces. The tide tumbles the pieces away and the once beautiful sea creature is reduced to nothing more than just grains of sand.

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer. All rights reserved.

It's Really No Secret!

(Note: This post was started back in March... I'm leaving what I originally wrote intact and adding to the end) I've been listening to The Secret on CD for the past several weeks -- mostly due to some derogatory remarks made about it at church. I always like to form my own opinions, rather than have someone else form them for me. As I listened, I was struck by the fact that the lessons it contains are also contained in The Bible... although they are lessons that are always presented with caveats, warnings and disclaimers in most protestant churches I have ever attended.

Let's take, for example, the idea that thoughts become things -- or thinking fat thoughts makes us fat, thinking bad thoughts brings bad things, etc. This was clearly stated in Proverbs 23:7, "As a man thinketh, so is he."

Next, let's look at the idea that we can have, do or be anything we want. That one is all over the New Testament -- I especially like the Red Letter text in Matthew 21 that tells us we can remove mountains and cast them in to the sea if we but have FAITH and that "all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive." (Yes, I'm a KJV kind of gal - I love the poetry and grandeur of the language.)

(New Portion)
The part about The Secret that makes it truly challenging for me is the 'faith without doubt' part. I'm learning more and more that I have a doubting Thomas streak in me about a mile wide. I WANT to believe and yet find my mind bombarded with contingencies and counter-contingencies in case things don't work out the way I had hoped. This past week was a prime example. I had an opportunity to write a huge investment case -- five figure commission huge -- which, in my market is rare. I started the afternoon BELIEVING that it was already done... then, I started saying things like, "please pray that this goes through" and "cross your fingers" and "it's not a done deal yet, but I HOPE it will go through." Needless to say, I did NOT get the account. Neither was I able to go buy that car I test drove, nor the home that's on my Vision Board. I'm meditating and working on changing my thinking, but I have to tell you that it's not as easy as it sounds... and by typing that, I've just ensured that it will remain hard! LOL

The Secret is NOT for skeptics. It's not for doubters, nor is it for realists. The Secret is for those who can still muster child-like belief... for as it is written "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." Mark 10:15 KJV

Random Thoughts on a Snowy Thursday

I didn't think I'd get to post anything about snow this year, it's been so unseasonably warm here -- but we're starting to get the first flurries of the season and the temperature is forecast to plummet tonight with windchills in the single digits. It sure is pretty coming down, but damned if folks around here aren't down right ignorant trying to drive in it! It's not sticking to anything and the temps are still above freezing, but you'd think we were in the throes of a full-blown blizzard. Traffic's a mess already. Oy!

On the man-front, things took a bizarre twist late last week. The Chef called me, sounding rather odd and uncomfortable on the phone. He said that we needed to talk before I came up there for the weekend (scheduled for this weekend). I said, 'okay' and then it started... when he told me he wasn't still married, that wasn't entirely true... they are still married, but it's complicated -- too complicated to explain over the phone. I told him to give it his best shot. He went on to say that they married for immigration reasons (I don't want to go into too many details for obvious reasons) and that they had an 'open' marriage. Of course, I told him that I had absolutely no interest in participating in such an arrangement and promptly cancelled my reservation for my weekend get-away. I guess that stack of reading material will just have to keep waiting, because there will be no quiet morning at the B&B for me any time soon.

I did break down and join Match. So far, it's been a real source of entertainment, if not the best source for finding appropriate men my age!

I'm finding out that there are some seriously disturbed individuals on that site! This one guy sent me an e-mail and, based on his profile, I had zero interest in him -- but the biggest drawback for me was that he had a young child. That's one of my no-no's. I really don't want to be a step-mom again. I've BTDT and I have zero interest in doing it again... not because my stepson was anything less than a blessing - but his mother, on the other hand, was not!

So, to make a long story less long, I e-mailed him back and said that I didn't think I was the gal for him and that my long-term plans did not include becoming a step-mother. Well, boy, howdy did he write the most scathing e-mail you've ever read... beginning with, "well, thank you for making life decisions for me" and berating me for thinking I have some kind of crystal ball to peer into the future. I very calmly reminded him that we're all on the site looking for someone with whom we can envision ourselves living long-term or forever... and that I was NOT making life decisions for HIM, but rather for myself.

Then, there are the kooks who think they look great without their shirts and have 10-15 pictures of themselves sans upper-body attire. Really, they need a reality check -- especially the ones who claim that their chest is their best feature! The last time I checked, niether love handles nor man-boobs were workout goals at Bally's.

Oh, and then there's the "Mensan". He e-mailed me to point out how many times I used the word 'I' in my profile... Let's see, my profile is supposed to tell everyone who I am... I is the chief pronoun used to describe the self, but I digress. We exchanged a few e-mails and then he came back with some pompous crap asking me if I thought I was up for the 'challenge' of being with a Mensan. I told him that while I qualify for MENSA, I've never felt the need to join and that I was certain I could handle the challenge -- the question was whether or not I WANTED to! Let's see... how many 'I's did I use in THAT paragraph?

All-in-all, it has me wondering if it's even worth the effort. As I listened to the tape my psychic made for me one thing jumped out at me that I had missed while I was sitting with her. She said, "some people need to be married... you, on the other hand, don't. You're perfectly content just as you are." You know what? She's right! I am perfectly content... so why muck about with a good thing? I'm just sayin'!

I am an Owl

At least according to the Psychic I saw today.

A very dear friend of mine went to see her and raved about how accurate she was. I've been wrestling with the whole dating thing, so I decided to go and see what she had to say.

The first thing she said was that there are two children showing... I have no children. She said that it was possible that I might marry someone with two children or that I might have two pets that I consider my children. I guess I'm half-way there with the pets. LOL

Since my Ex seems to be making an effort to improve his outlook on life, I also wanted to know what the future holds as it relates to relationships. She said definitively, "you have not yet met the person you're going to marry." Further discussion took us to my Ex's date of birth and a reading surrounding his numbers. She nailed him -- more so that she did me -- she nailed him! While she felt that he does love me as much as he is able, that he is unwilling to compromise and, while she doesn't like to give negative readings, that she doesn't think we will stay together more than three months even if we DO get back together. She also addressed, without my asking, the nagging little voice in the back of my wee noggin that thinks he wants to get back together all of a sudden because I'm doing so well financially. She stated that one of the reasons he wants to get back together -- and immediately -- is that he wants me to share living expenses so that he can have more of the things he wants.

Anyway, she went on to talk about larks and owls. She said that larks and owls cannot peacefully cohabitate. When she defined a lark as someone who rises with the sun and an owl as someone who sleeps late and works late I saw us. Mr. Small is a lark... he is 100% morning person. I am an owl... I love to stay up late and sleep late. I'm at my best between 3 pm and 11 pm, as long as I've had my beauty rest.

So, not that I would ever make my life decisions based on the reading of a psychic... it was nice to hear confirmation that my intuition is intact and operating properly. That's another thing she told me -- trust my gut. If I follow that, I will be just fine.

Hoot-hoot!

The Power to Transform

One of the big influences on my life in the past year or so has been the work of Dr. Wayne Dyer. I first saw The Power of Intention on his PBS special and was intrigued by what he had to say. I ordered some of his CDs and began listening. Much of what he said resonated for me and, as a result, my life has been changed. One of the main themes of Dr. Dyer's work is that we are all part of the Universal energy... that we all come from the same source -- the God Source and because we are all made up of energy, we have the ability to attract energy into our lives. He posits that we attract into our lives those things on which we place our attention. If we place our attention on what we do not have then we attract more of 'not having' into our lives.

It all sounded good - but I decided I wanted to put the theory to the test. I started to implement his suggestions for living in harmony with Source Energy or God and my life began to change in some amazing ways. I established the practice of giving thanks every night before going to sleep every for the many blessings in my life and found that I became happier and more content with who I was. Then, abundance started to flow in my life and people began to reach out to me and pave the way for me to grow my business.

Not wanting to keep this all to myself, I decided to share the CDs with my Ex. I didn't really figure he'd listen to them because he's such a die-hard skeptic. However, he actually DID listen to them... and what's more amazing, he liked what he heard... and more amazing still, he has started making some of the same changes in his life that I made in mine.

Is it possible that six little CDs could change his life too? If so, then the Power of Intention is much greater than I ever imagined, because there couldn't have been a greater cynic and pessimist than my Ex. It will be interesting to watch.

To Match or Not to Match

It seems that online dating sites are all the rage in the over-40 dating scene these days. All of my single friends are winking away at Match.com and seem to be having a grand old time. Me? I'm skeptical. Mostly, I think I'm skeptical because I was on the cutting edge of Internet dating some eight years ago... you see, I met Mr. Small in an Internet chat room and we all see how THAT turned out. Of course, we've also seen how relying on friends and acquaintances to introduce you turned out too! LOL

I've been trying to come up with a witty screen name and intro. Tell me what you think:

Screen Name: 41SINK

Secure, independent, fun-loving professional seeking same for companionship and possible romance. No children - just an adorable terrier mix pup. I prefer to keep it that way. I like my life to be simple and am content living on my own.

My ideal match is someone who is sincere and spiritual and possesses a love for life and all living things. Ideally, he would also love live music (including symphony, jazz and big band), know how to dance (swing, rhumba, cha-cha, etc), 'get' indy films and be able to hold his own in an erudite discussion.

I'm not looking to play games... but I'm not looking to get married either. I'm just looking for true and sincere companionship. I am a deeply passionate person, but I do not believe that casual and sex belong in the same sentence.

If you feel that we could be a 'match', give me a shout out!
===============================
What say ye, oh faithful reader(s).?

Thoughts for the New Year

On 2006

This past year has been a tremendous time of growth and self-awareness. I have gone from dependence to independence -- from misery to contentment. I have made new friends, established a new career and come to grips with old wounds and losses. All-in-all, I would say that it was a very good year. I am thankful for the lessons learned, the abundance that has flowed into my life and the love that has sustained me.

On The Drummer

The end of 2006 saw the end of an old love and the possibility of a new one. My first foray into the dating scene was enough to give even the most battle-hardened veteran cause for retreat. Here's how the story goes: good clients of mine, after hours of discussions one evening, decided that they had just the guy for me -- a long-time friend and musician. This friend wasn't looking for a relationship -- just someone to listen to music with and maybe grab a meal or two for companionship. Numbers were exchanged and later that week a call came in from "The Drummer". He had a very pleasant voice and we had lots in common, so we decided to meet that weekend to listen to a local blues trio. Plans were set and I was looking forward to the event -- we spoke on the phone several more times and the conversation was easy and flowed naturally.

The night of the date, I took extra care getting ready -- I even made sure to have the proper heel height so I didn't tower over him, as he reported being an inch taller than me. As I pulled up in front of the club, I saw two men standing out front. One I recognized as the lead guitarist for the trio -- the other was a short, balding gentleman with coke-bottle glasses, rolled up blue jeans, no socks and dockers. As I approached, he addressed me and introduced himself as "The Drummer." Closer inspection revealed a glass eye and a forest of nose hair. I was taller than him by at least four inches.

Determined to make the best of the evening, we went inside to listen to the trio -- who, thank goodness, were VERY good! We chatted between sets - again, the conversation was easy - but I felt he was starting to get that romantic look in his eye(s) - so I tried to keep it light and casual. As the evening progressed, he started touching me when he spoke and leaning in to talk to me -- with the good eye aimed directly down my blouse. The piece d'resistance, however, occurred upon my return from the ladies' room, when I found him flapping and hopping about like an injured water fowl. I can only assume that he was dancing. If my mother hadn't raised me better, I would have flung myself on the floor laughing hysterically.

As the evening came to a close, he walked me to my car. Fearing the worst, I quickly unlocked the door and positioned myself behind it like a knight behind his shield. Again, I attempted to keep things very casual -- after all, I was TOLD he wasn't looking for a relationship -- but the look in his eye said he WAS looking for something less noble. I told him I'd see him at the New Years Eve party... but the next night he called and left a message to see if I wanted to go out again that night or the next... or the next. Ugh! I didn't return the call... or the one the next evening. Unfortunately, I didn't see him at the New Year's party either -- since I had a date with the toilet bowl, courtesy of the stomach virus so lovingly passed along to me by my nieces.

So, this less than promising entree to the dating scene has me a bit gun shy... is this REALLY something on which I want to waste my energy?

On The Chef

For those of you who've been pining for news of The Chef, fear not! I have learned that he is no longer married to the Salsa instructor mentioned in the article I found. He has called a number of times and e-mailed a number of times and I am going to visit near the end of the month for a special dinner at the Inn. He's promised me a tour of wine country and a nice evening out. Then, in February, he's going to come visit me!

I don't know what depth of relationship can be established with monthly visits, living four hours apart, and working opposing schedules... but the mere anticipation of seeing him again is worth its weight in gold!

On Work

I finished the year just $832.50 shy of my goal. It might as well have been $8,000... because in my business, 'close' doesn't count! Still, I am pleased with my results. This is my first year with the company and I finished in the top 25 in my region. My goal for this year is to DOUBLE my results! (something I WON'T achieve if I don't get busy right now!!!)

Here's to a fantabulous 2007!

Encroachment - 15-yard Penalty!

My next door neighbor -- the one who blows all of her leaves into my yard -- has removed my property line marker and proceeded to put her tacky-ass Christmas lights on MY property. I don't want to be petty at this time of year -- really, I don't. But first and foremost - who gave her permission to remove the property line flag? And second, what makes her think that I would want that trailer park yard art on MY front lawn?

Some people!

Time to say goodbye

After over a year of separation, I decided that it was time to have the conversation with Mr. Small about ending our marriage. I found myself thinking that I couldn't truly move on and even consider another relationship until I had closure with him.

I thought it was going to be easy. I had my words carefully picked. The reality was far removed from the calm, quiet resignation I imagined.

Of course, his first question was, "is there someone else?" For the first time ever, the answer to that was not so clear-cut. There really isn't someone else - but there is, for the first time, the possibility of someone else.

For the first time, he admitted to me his loathing of life, his thoughts of suicide and the utter abandonment he feels. There was a time in my life where I would have thought it my responsibility -- my duty -- to fix those feelings, to nurture and coddle and assure. Instead, I told him that I, too, have felt those emotions and that the answer to those feelings will not be found in anything exterior to himself - that he has to search within.

We talked for several hours about why and how and when this all happened. He once again asserted that winning the lottery would fix it all. When we were done talking, there was such a sense of sadness. I couldn't help but feel that if only I could have loved him enough that things would have worked... but I know that is not true - because the one person who needs to love him in order for him to be happy will likely never do so. I pray, though, that one day he may find inner peace and the joy that comes from being at one with your Source.

I wept for hours last night... my eyes still showing the signs of the "ugly cry" this morning - swollen, puffy and red. I wept for what could have been, I wept for the sweetness of his unconditional love for me and for my inability to love that way in return. I wept for the depth of his despair and for the little boy who's crying out to be loved and held and not sent away -- and I wept for sending him away once again.

It's time to say goodbye, my love. May you one day find peace.

Poetry -- it's what I do when I don't know what to do...

Talking for hours by a roaring fire
Dancing the dance of lovers
Advancing, retreating, all the while wondering what the other is thinking.

A tender kiss in the morning light
Frost on the ground
Feeling, reeling, not knowing what the future might be bringing.

A long drive alone with time to think
Has it gone too far?
Pacing, mind racing, is it just an indiscretion you’re not facing?

Days go by without a word
Emotions ebb and flow
Anticipating, heart aching, expecting too much? Is he reciprocating?

Too much to do
No time to think it through
Forgetting, regretting, I don’t know – do you?

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer.
All rights reserved.

This is your brain...

this is your brain on pheromones...

What is it about the mere thought of a person to whom you're attracted that causes all of your intellectual prowess to disappear? What is it about the memory of a kiss that short-circuits all logical function of the brain? How Pavlovian is it to become jittery and nervous each time the little letter shows up in the system tray of my computer?

I still haven't confirmed or negated the presence of a wife... but I have received a very sweet e-mail telling me what a wonderful time he had and promising to come visit in January or February. I fired back an innocent query about the person whose name I found in the article. Of course, in the hospitality industry, your weekends are not your own, so I don't really expect to hear back from him until Monday or Tuesday when the Inn is closed.

I really suck at waiting. It's not something I do well at all. I have way too active of an imagination and I create too many stories in my mind. It's sad, really... but it's just who I am.

How many hours til Monday?

Turd in a Punch Bowl

That's what I feel like tonight. I just can't help but feel that I've done something horrible and I just can't seem to let it go... I want him to call so I can know for sure... I want to e-mail him, but I don't know if anyone else has access to his account. This SUCKS! I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't think about anything else. Surely there's some OCD in my psychological profile somewhere...

I keep saying to myself: "let it go, Lauren." I can't change what happened... but I can't forget how I felt BEFORE I found out about the wife.

Tick-tock, tick-tock... It's nearly 12:30 am... I need to TRY to get some sleep -- after all, I still have a whole butt-load of business to write before year-end. I soooooooo don't need any added stress right now.

Rat farts!

Tick, tock, tick, tock...

It's been more than 24 hours... no call... no returned e-mail (yes, I sent an e-mail... it just said that I had a wonderful time and that I hoped he'd keep in touch).

Of course, since yesterday's post, I've located an article about his Inn that seems to indicate there's a spouse... at least there was a spouse in December of '05 when the article was written. Funnily enough, I seem to recall meeting a woman by this name when I first checked in (she didn't take his last name, apparently). Now, I want to hear from him all the more so I can figure out what the hell happened! I soooooooooo do not want to be "that girl" -- you know, the home wrecker, the floozy who messes around with married men. I've been on the other side of that equation and I wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy. Why can't things just be simple?

I did, however, receive an invitation to return to the Inn on business to write policies on one of the employees... comped room and all... I wonder what his reaction would be if he walked in and saw me standing there? He just did not seem like the kind of guy who would DO that... but then I've been wrong before... horribly wrong.

Ugh!

Giddy

I know you're probably going to get whiplash going from my last post to this one -- but I just can't help it!

Last evening, I drove up to Skyline Drive for an exclusive dinner hosted by my region's vice president for the top producers on her "Round Table." We went to a very cozy B&B (I won't name it here on the off-chance that someone might run across the post -- I wouldn't want to incriminate anyone!) and had a scrumptious dinner and great conversation. Afterward, those of us who were staying overnight gathered at the bar for a nightcap, when in walked the chef. We all applauded him and he was a very pleasant fellow, so we started talking. Over the coming hours, nearly everyone else wandered off to bed and left the two of us sitting at the bar - still gabbing like we'd known each other for years.

Now, I have not spent one minute with any other man since the ex and I separated a year ago (can you believe it was a year Thanksgiving Day?) and I never really expected to find myself having those giddy feelings again - wasn't looking for it at all -- then as I was about to turn in, he leaned over and kissed me and my knees went weak. Suffice it to say that the evening wore even longer as we tried to weave our way through the "I hardly know you, but DAMN, I really like you" rush of emotions that come along with the first blush of a relationship. (Is this a relationship? could it be? do I want it to be?) So, today, in the wake of my concern for my father, I'm feeling like a silly, giggly school girl and find myself facing the age-old question that I never thought I'd ask again... "will he call?"

Stay tuned!

Daddy's Broken

This week, my precious father nearly lost his life again. Save for the marvels of modern medicine, he would not be with us today. Once again, his heart rate skyrocketed to nearly 300 and he lost consciousness. It was his internal defibrillator that saved his life. At his doctor's appointment the following day, they told him that he should stop driving... they might as well have told him to stop breathing.

My dad's been a day-tripper for as long as I can remember. Whenever things got rought at work or at home, he'd jump in his truck and take off for the Eastern Shore, or one of the state parks in North Carolina -- or go for a ride on the beach in Corolla. It's his way of escaping and relieving stress. Not only has this outlet been taken from him, but now he'll have to give up his part-time job as well (which I think he does just to escape my mom's incessant chatter). You see, he drives hearses and flower trucks for a local funeral home and spends days collecting and delivering death certificates.

It is so difficult to watch the man to whom you've always looked up -- the one on whom you've depended to do the hard stuff -- like open things, move things, and fix things -- become feeble and dependent. My heart is just breaking for him -- he's fiercely independent and I fear that losing his independence will leave him devoid of joy and purpose, causing him to deteriorate long before his time. I'm not ready for that... not yet... not ever.

My Daddy's broken and I wish I could fix him.

Owner of a Broken Heart and other random musings...

Last evening I got a call from a dear friend. I could hardly understand her and at first I thought we had a bad cell connection -- but it turns out that she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her Prince Charming had just dumped her and she was inconsolable. So, out the door I go with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of wine. I hate to see my friends hurting and this friend in particular due to the absolutely horrendous childhood she had. Her mother is literally a crack whore and this dear, sweet girl rose above her beginnings, worked her way through college and has become an upstanding member of society.

I chose the name "Prince Charming" for a reason -- her love affair with this guy is really a Cinderella story. He came from old money -- one of the most prominent families in town -- she from the aforementioned crack whore. She spent two years of her life trying to prove to him that she was worthy of his love -- only to find out that it is an emotion of which he is completely incapable. I wanted to knock him upside the head last night as she sobbed in my arms. Despite all of her self-realization and therapy, still she couldn't help but think that if only she had tried harder, had a better pedigree, been prettier, smarter, or more patient that he wouldn't have left her. She is, unfortunately, the owner of a broken heart and I was completely helpless to do a damned thing about it.

In other news...

What the hell are people thinking? Yesterday I was sitting at a stoplight and on one corner was a Citgo whose gas cost $1.98 per gallon on the opposite corner was a BP whose gas cost $2.10 per gallon. There wasn't a soul at the Citgo and there was a LINE at the BP. I KNOW that it was not due to any type of boycott of the Venezuelan-held company -- the people around here aren't that politically aware -- so I just have to say, "what the fuck?" In my little economy, twelve cents per gallon, times 13 gallons equals $1.56 and THAT's one whole cup of 7-Eleven coffee!

In YNPFLN news, the lady with the yard full of plastic flowers has just traded out the purple flowers for a sea of bright orange ones. {{SHUDDER}}

And in the "What's the Matter with Kids Today" category... the little shits threw my carefully raked bags of pinestraw into the middle of the street, where someone collided head on with one of them, ripping it to smitherines. Don't they have anything better to do? Really?

And finally, in the "Life Ain't Fair" category... my favorite manager just told me that come January 1, she will no longer be my manager. That was bad enough... but I found out that she's being replaced by two... count them TWO pantywastes. There's not enough backbone between them to make a good cat. Grrrrrrrr

A Silly Break from the Wall-to-Wall Election Coverage

1. Explain what ended your last relationship? Negativity

2. When was the last time you shaved? Sunday

3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? Pouring my second 16 oz cup of coffee.

4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Reading Sheri's blog (thanks for the tag... I knew I should have stopped reading before number 30!)

5. Are you any good at math? I hope so -- I'm a financial specialist!

6. Your prom night? I had one... it was about three weeks after breaking up with a long-time boyfriend. I took a friend with me.

7. Do you have any famous ancestors? Rumor has it that we're related to William Lloyd Garrison.

8. Have you had to take a loan out for school? Yes. Thankfully, it's long since paid off.

9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? I ain't got no such thing...

10. Last thing received in the mail? An offer for Dr. Wayne Dyer's latest CD set. I promptly ordered it!

11. How many different beverages have you had today? Just two -- the above-referenced 32 oz of coffee and some bottled water.

12. Do you ever leave messages on peoples answering machines? Every day. It's part of what I do... being in sales and all...

13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Sheri, you ARE kidding right? You mean there's another definition for Concert Virginity than the group you saw at your first concert? YIKES! My first concert was Air Supply, followed shortly thereafter by the Doobie Brothers... I'm old too, Sheri!

14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? Abso-freakin-lutely!

15. What was the most painful dental procedure you have had? Four wisdom teeth surgically extracted at the same time... two had roots wrapped around my jaw bone and I woke up in the middle of it all. I'm just saying...

16. What is out your back door? A yard and my neighbor's house.

17. Any plans for Friday night? R-E-L-A-X with a nice bottle-o-vino.

18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? Hmmm.. let me think about this... it gets salty, sandy and stands on end... uh, yeah... love it! (NOT)

19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? Yes, my step-grandmother used to give me one every year for Christmas. Ho-ho-ho...

20. Have you ever been to a planetarium? Absolutely! I took an astronomy course as part of my junior high gifted and talented program. It was fabulous spending the summer in a darkened planetarium with that good-looking guy from Deep Creek with the dreamy eyes...

21. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Yep - I'm clean, so what's the big??

22. Some things you are excited about? My trip to Germany & Austria next summer, and the possibility of winning an all-expense paid trip to Cancun!

23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? I don't really care for the stuff, personally.

24. Describe your keychain(s)? A blue hand.

25. (there was no question 25 on the original, so I'm making one up) How glad are you that the elections are over? Happy, happy, joy, joy... I'm so sick of the friggin commercials I could scream!!!!!

26. Where do you keep your change? In a big flower vase.

27. What kind of winter coat do you own? All kinds. It's embarrassing really... I'm planning to donate at least three of them to the Salvation Army this winter.

28. What was the weather like on your graduation day? It was gorgeous! It was sunny and warm, with a nice breeze.

29. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? Closed. If not, the pupster wanders around the house and barks at anything that moves.

30. Did U read this far? I hope you did! Now you are tagged!

I Just Don't Like the Way He Parts His Hair

My grandmother used this expression when referring to people for whom she felt an inexplicable aversion -- much the way I feel about the Democrat candidate for Senate here in Virginia (Jim Webb). Granted, I'm very much an independent and rarely align myself with the Democrat party -- still, this man just sets me on edge.

Unfortunately, his Republican opponent is far from a viable alternative -- at least not for me (George Allen). This is a man with whom I've sparred regarding the proposed Constitutional Amendment banning gay marriage. It's not that I'm a rabid gay-rights activist, it's just that marriage has always been a state issue -- not a federal issue -- and certainly not a CONSTITUTIONAL issue! I'm not comfortable with all of this talk about Constitutional Amendments to ban this or that or the other... not in a country founded on freedom of religion and speech.

Anyway, I didn't intend this post to be a political advertisement -- but when I went searching for an alternative today that would allow me to actually cast a vote without vomiting during the act, I found the Green Party candidate, Gail Parker. If her jingle doesn't make you want to run right out and pull that lever, or dangle that chad or whisper a prayer that your new e-vote really counted, then I don't know what will... check it out! Vote Gail "for Rail" Parker!!!

I'm just sayin'...

From Handel to Horror

Last night, I attended a professional choral performance entitled "Angels, Demons & Kings". The first act consisted of three pieces by G. F Handel, which were magnificent (save the one soprano solo by that blaring facial contortionist -- I swear the only other time I've seen a face contort like that was in The Mask with Jim Carey!).

I should have gathered from the title of the concert that not all of the music would be angelic. Still, I was totally unprepared for the second act of the performance. With titles such as The Morning Stars, Hail Mary, Christ, the Fair Glory and so on, I was expecting your typical liturgical fare. I couldn't have BEEN more wrong.

At first, we were treated to an orchestral prelude meant to evoke the Chaos of the time before creation. The tympani, organ and dissonant strings did a magnificent job and I thought we were in for a treat... then the reading began. There were two readers: a British gentleman and a local woman. He sounded dignified and stately, she like a bad Shakespearean actress run amok. On and on she droned in a sickeningly sweet sing-song voice only a deaf mother could love.

As the piece progressed, the speaking was only briefly interrupted by song - harsh and atonal -- names and phrases were hurled at the audience, who shifted uncomfortably in their seats. On and on the readers jangled until even the fair Brit's accent irritated... the songs growing increasingly strident. I found myself gritting my teeth and begging for the end - fearing that one more stanza would cause me to throw myself onto the nearest sharp object.

When at last we were relieved of the suffering I leapt to my feet to escape the scene of this atrocity. I pray only that my standing was not mistaken for an ovation, for I confess that Mr. Britten's Company of Heaven was reminiscent of a place much farther south.

NPFLN

At the end of my block is one of the most bizarre sights I've ever seen. The house itself is pretty ordinary -- a brick ranch circa 1970. It's the yard that causes people to do a double-take. You see, these folks have the oddest outcroppings of flowers in their yard that you've ever seen. Here it is October and there are tulips blooming along the driveway and Jonquils surrounding the bird bath. There are even crocus and forsythia surrounding the various and sundry pieces of yard art (ranging from the blessed Virgin to fake squirrels, bunnies and geese).

It's obvious from the turquoise trim on their red brick house that these folks aren't blessed with the best taste in the world, but why, pray tell, would anyone put PLASTIC flowers in their yard (and I DO mean IN their yard -- there's not a flowerbed to be found)? And if you ARE going to 'plant' fake flowers, you could at least go to the trouble to make them appear somewhat realistic -- these things are sticking out of the ground so far that you can see the big green spike that usually goes inside the vase!

I have half a mind to sneak over there one night, gather them all up and put them in a garbage bag on their front porch with a note and a gift certificate to Home Depot.

"Dear neighbor, please do us all a favor (and our property values too), and go to Home Depot to buy some REAL flowers! We'll even help you plant them in REAL flowerbeds!

Sincerely,

Your non-plastic-flower-loving neighbors.

P.S. You'll find the Virgin and her petting zoo around back. We thought they'd be more comfortable there."

I Remember

It was 7:55 am Central and I was driving down McNeil Drive in Austin, Texas on my half-hour, two mile commute to work. The usually comical group of morning drive-timers were saying, "CNN is reporting that a plane -- possibly a small commuter plane -- has hit the World Trade Center." They immediately went back to their schtick and play list and one stoplight later - at about 8:05, they came back on to say that a second plane has hit the second tower, to which I think, "that's a really tasteless joke - it's just not funny."

Over the next minutes, it became apparent to me that they were not kidding and my stomach dropped. By the time I reached the office, several of my colleagues were in the conference room watching CNN - there was video footage of the second plane hitting that's playing over and over as everyone tried to come to grips with what was happening. We all gasped in horror -- our country was under attack and our company's vice president was on a flight out of DC that morning! Of course, he was unreachable and we were all just sickened to think that we might lose this wonderful man!

At 8:59 when the South Tower collapsed, our owner and the management team decided that enough was enough and sent us all to our desks. Even though the Pentagon was hit at 8:37 central, I don't remember hearing about it until I was sitting at my desk later that morning. That was the most frightening part to me -- especially since most of the news agencies were reporting that there were still numerous planes in the air -- some unaccounted for.

I remained at work for several hours, finally hearing from the VP -- his flight had been diverted to Louisiana, where it appeared, he was going to be stranded for some time. We even worried briefly about our office in Austin, as one of GW's brothers worked in the building next door to ours.

I checked out of the office around noon - having been unable to reach my family on the east coast -- my brother in particular, who was a first responder, a member of the military reserve and a HazMat specialist. I spent the next 24 hours glued to my television -- searching for answers to how something so horrible could have happened in this country I love so much. I still don't know the answer to that, but I do know that life changed for me that day. I suddenly felt vulnerable -- fearing for my own safety in a way I had never known before.

I remember September 11, 2001 and I will never forget the families who lost loved ones and the brave first responders who lost their lives trying to save others. I pray for a world where we no longer feel the need to hurt and destroy one another -- a world of peace. Naive? Perhaps... but it's so much better than the alternative.

Perspective

Holy cow! Was I really sounding that pathetic just one month ago? Sorry to keep my faithful few in the dark for so long. I've been as busy as a one-armed paper hanger and it has paid off! I just got the end of month rankings and I'm currently ranked number 2 in the region and number 66 in the NATION in sales!

Thankfully, my back has been cooperating. I even endured an ungodly procedure called a discogram. They determined that (surprise, surprise) I have two bad discs causing radicular back pain. (Jeeze... I've known that since I was 16 years old!) If anyone ever recommends that you have one of these tests, tell them to go to hell! It was one of the worst experiences of my life.

In other news, Tropical Storm Ernesto dropped about 8 inches of rain in my area today. I spent much of the morning and early afternoon without power and several hours digging trenches to divert water away from my back door. My efforts resulted in a well-engineered series of gutters (which my ex was supposed to install on the detached garage four years ago) leading from the sidewalk to the drainage ditch that runs down the side of the house (I dug that three years ago during Hurricane Isabelle - the ex never got that leveled or had the walkway installed either).

In still other news, I am now officially into a size 10 (down from a bursting-at-the-seams size sixteen) and was recently told by a client that I look like Jamie Lee Curtis. I once had a boyfriend who said he originally asked me out because I looked like her - but that was 20 years ago. It made me feel good to know that I must somehow look more like I did back then - although I've never really seen the resemblance myself. One of these days I'll get around to posting a picture of the new me... but here's one of the way I USED to look!

EDITED TO ADD: That photo is from my blue period... I don't know what happened when I uploaded it from the CD... but it wouldn't let me re-load it or edit it. Perhaps it's fitting after all!

Blue

Do you ever have days when you just feel blue? When there's nothing particularly wrong... but nothing particularly right either... I have two offers of things to do this evening -- attending a concert (in which I SHOULD be singing, but couldn't bring myself to make the rehearsals) or going to dinner and a movie with a friend. Neither one sounds appealing to me at the moment.

There are days when I wish I could be a dog... sleep, eat and chase a few balls (okay, that sounds a bit risque)... no worries about mortgages or sales goals or surgery or pain... nothing whatsoever to think about but 'where's my favorite chew toy?'

I am really, really hating being without a partner in life right now... with a partner, the weight wouldn't be so heavy... a bad month wouldn't put me in the humiliating position of borrowing money from my mom or force me to choose between physical therapy and groceries.

(whine, whine, whine... how fricking pathetic)

Helpless

Just this past Wednesday, I was pain free. I was hesitant to tell my physical therapist that for fear of jinxing the whole thing and, lo and behold, within 72 hours of making the statement, I'm back where I was before the last batch of steroids.

The hardest part of having a herniated disc that's not causing constant pain is that you forget you have it and you start to do things you shouldn't - like picking up items that weigh more than a pound, or twisting and turning your torso. I spent three hours yesterday, with the help of my mother and my ex, organizing my office. The ex met me at the office supply store and carried my purchases to the office. He then put together the literature sorter for my 50 or so product brochures. All I did was sort papers and put them in the proper slots. My mom did all of the bending over and lifting of small boxes of brochures.

It is so incredibly frustrating to feel that you can't do anything! If I drop something, it has to stay where it falls. If my trash can is full, I have to call my dad to empty it. I can't even carry a load of laundry to the washing machine by myself or bend over to take the clothes out of the dryer when they're done. What's worse is that, with heat indices of over 100 degrees, I can't wear shorts or skirts in public because I can't bend over to shave my legs!!!

Feeling helpless is not something that sits well with me. It makes me angry... the kind of angry that makes me cry... which just makes me MORE angry. On days like today, when the pain is radiating into my hips and shooting down my legs and I can't sit down (thank goodness for wireless keyboards) and I can't bear weight on my spine for more than a few minutes at a time and I look around me and see all that needs to be done, all I CAN do is take my meds and sleep. Thankfully, that turns off my brain - if only for a while - and keeps me from feeling helpless. If only I could sleep until it's all better...

The Boy Who Broke-Up with Me

My sophomore year in high school was probably one of my worst years ever. My boyfriend from the previous year had graduated and my parents had forbidden me to see him. I had to have my wisdom teeth removed and my deviated septum repaired and then I got mono and was out of school for an entire 9 weeks. Once I recovered, I spent most of my time at home, reading and playing the piano, but even so, I got accused of sleeping with practically every boy in school and myriad other offenses for which I was SO not guilty.

I only dated a couple of boys -- very briefly -- and I always broke up with them... with one exception. His name was Jimmy and he was the first boy in my school to have an earring and long hair. Everyone thought he was wild, but he wasn't. He didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs, went to school every day, loved his mother, was thrify, loyal, brave and did not believe in pre-marital sex. I was smitten with him... but since he didn't believe in pre-marital sex, he also didn't want to do anything that might lead there. After one particularly steamy goodnight kiss, he broke up with me... supposedly because I was "getting too serious."

After graduation, he went on to become a police officer in our city - working vice for a while and eventually moving over to a uniformed job. My brother has seen him on occasion, as they both work for the city, and he always asks about me. The last time they ran into each other, Jimmy was newly divorced.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, as I was walking Caleb, a guy jogged by my house, with a woman riding a bicycle along side of him. I heard him say to her, "I think I went to school with her - I think that's Lauren." She yelled, "Are you Lauren?" and I replied, "yes" but they were too far away for me to ask who he was. Then, this morning as I was taking my pup out for his potty break, the same guy came jogging by my house and said, "good morning, Lauren." I said good morning and rifled through the file drawers in my brain trying to place him. It wasn't until he was out of ear-shot that it hit me... it was JIMMY! The hair's not long any more, he's BUFF AS HELL, and he's jogging down my street again! I made a mental note of the time and informed the pup that his new morning potty break will be promptly at 6:50 am from now on!

I wonder if he's over that "no pre-marital sex" thing yet? Inquiring minds need to know!

What I Want in a Man

Thanks to Jack, over at Sixteen Shades of Grey, I've found myself thinking about what I would want in a partner, if I ever decided to date again. Interestingly, my list looks very similar to Jack's... with a few exceptions and in a slightly different order:

-Loves me
-Affectionate
-Spiritual (NOT religious or narrow-minded)
-Intelligent/well read/well educated
-Good conversationalist
-Good sense of humour
-Well groomed (I'm not hung up on looks so much as just taking care with your appearance)
-Secure and confident
-Loves music and theatre
-Good listener
-Loyal
-Honest
-Romantic
-Nice smile
-Likes to go to new restaurants, movies, shows, museums
-Gets along well with my friends and family
-Considerate
-Generous
-Creative
-Understanding
-Open
-Good kisser (well, maybe that belongs higher up on the list! LOL)

So, what do you think? Does this man exist?

A Condo for Me

For the past eight months, I've been operating under the premise that I would sell my house next Fall and move into a condominium. There is some work that needs to be done to my house in order to get top dollar for it -- it is in need of some serious landscaping, the 1960's bathroom fixtures need to be replaced and the kitchen needs to be renovated. I was fairly content with my plan, until my mom mentioned that I could just hire a lawn service for the same price as a condo fee, upgrade the house to suit my fancy and just stay put (which just happens to be about 25 steps from their front door).

The concept has bugged me... simmered in my brain... made me question myself... made me wonder at her motives... made me wonder at mine. It's been disturbing... it's made me cranky... and as I write this today, I realize that I've had enough! For once in my life, I'm going to do what I want to do -- on my timeline and on my terms. I'm going to hire a contractor to do the bathrooms and kitchen -- hire a landscaper to do the yard and put up the fence and then I'M GOING TO MOVE AWAY FROM MY MOTHER!!! Don't you think 41 is plenty old to be out on my own!?!

We have the most complex relationship on the planet. I love my mother dearly. I consider her a good friend and a staunch supporter. Yet there's this thing between us that I can't quite define. Often, I feel like I'm suffocating and I just want to get as far away from her as I can. Then, something will happen in my life and she's the first person I want to call. I'm struggling with the church thing right now. I had been thinking of joining one of the small groups -- I talked to the host family and planned to start going in the Fall. Then, mom decided she wanted to go to that small group also and I felt violated... I wanted to have something that was just mine. I've found myself avoiding church all together... avoiding choir practice. Geeze-o-pete, I just need to get a life! (preferably one that doesn't involve my mother at every single turn) As Kahlil Gibran said, "let there be spaces in your togetherness"

I think I need more space and less togetherness. A condo it is!

When the Three-Way Mirror Becomes Your Friend

I never thought it would happen... truly, I didn't... but today, I actually stood in front of one of the dreaded department store mirrors and LIKED what I saw. Over the course of the last few years, I have lost 32 pounds and I am finally able to wear sizes that don't also appear in the Women's Department! I bought two new suits that don't look like gunny sacks or moo-moos! I actually looked like a professional business woman who's only 41, instead of like a fat, old frump!

I've also embarked upon a purging of the closets... tossing sizes with W behind them into a heap and gathering up everything with numbers that mark life events -- like driving, voting and buying beer!

What a glorious day indeed, when the mirror becomes your friend once again and what a startling sight to behold -- a closet with just two suits!

Those Wacky Virginia Senators

They've done it again! I just got this update from one of my Long Term Care brokers, notifying me of a bill the Virginia Senate has just passed, which will give people tax credits for Long Term Care premiums. A careful reading of the bill seems to indicate that this is much ado about nothing. Read on:

Virginia Senate Bill 786 was signed into law by the Governor and will take effect on July 1, 2006. The new law amends the state's tax code to provide a credit against individual income taxes for LTC insurance premiums paid on or after January 1, 2006. The amount of the credit for each taxable year equals 15% of the amount paid by the individual in LTC insurance premiums and is not to exceed over the life of any policy 15% of the amount of premiums paid for the first 12 months of coverage. If the credit exceeds the individual's income tax liability for the tax year, the excess amount can be carried over for credit against the income taxes of the individual for the next five years or until the credit is used, whichever comes first.

To claim the credit, the individual must attach to his individual income tax return proof of payment for the LTC insurance premiums.

-END OF SUMMARY-

Emphasis Mine

Now, is it just me, or does it say that all you'll ever get is 15% of the first year's premium? If you take the full credit the first year, you don't get any more credits. Am I missing something?

I'm going crazy... won't you come along?

I've stayed in the only comfortable position I can find (on my left side with a pillow between my knees) until I can't stay there any more. My left ear hurt so much, that I had to get up. So, I've been moving from desk to sofa to shower to bed (to make the muscle spasms stop) back to the desk (my office chair is relatively comfortable for five or ten minutes at a time). I feel like a caged lion.. pacing, pacing, pacing... and this damnable pain... the meds just take enough of the edge off to keep me out of tears... but it's constant, intractable... I feel as if I'm going insane.

I have an appointment with my doctor in about an hour. I'm hoping for some miracle drug... maybe a cortisone injection... something... anything to make this stop so that I can work. I just had to cancel two appointments that would have yielded several thousand dollars in commission because I simply cannot function... cannot drive... cannot sit... cannot sit anymore... have to pace...

I Believe in Miracles

Since learning of my dear friend's situation (see post entitled "Pain"), I have been communicating with all of my Prayer Warrior friends. I've been amazed at the encouraging words and unshakable faith of the (mostly) women who regularly come together in prayer before the Throne.

There was a period of time in my life when my faith was stronger -- a time when I was actually a prayer counselor for an international tele-evangelist. I received praise reports from so many callers who had joined together with other believers in claiming victory over death, disease, financial ruin and so many other things.

Just recently, I met a man who is a living testament to the power of faith over medicine. This man was born with Spina Bifida and Hydrocephalus. His mother was told that he would not live to come home from the hospital -- but he did. Then, she was told that he would not live to be one -- but he proved them wrong. Then, she was told that he would be a vegetable, but instead he graduated high school. He's now 36 years old. He's able to care for himself, even though he's in a wheelchair. He is mildly delayed mentally, but is planning to move to a group home soon, where he'll have his own room!

When I met with his mother, she recounted the struggles she went through - almost taking her own life - when someone intervened and helped her through it all. This person led her to a personal relationship with God that transformed her life.

As I prayed for my friend today, the words of encouragement from a local prayer group echoed in my mind:

"Tell this mom that faith is believing the impossible. It is evidence of things not seen and believing that no matter what the test shows, no matter what the doctors say, this baby belongs to God, who knew him even before he took form in her womb. Speak life to this baby, declare that he will live in good health and he will not die. Stand on the word of God. He said that whatsoever you ask in my name and believe, that will I do. I want her to talk to Jacob Daniel - a powerful name they have chosen for him - talk to him all during the day and tell him that God has a purpose and a plan for his life and that he will fulfill it. God gave her this baby now she must believe God for him - speak life. Say what the Doctor said or found, say what the test results show but know this-when all else fails God is more than able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we could ever ask or think. He is the Lord God ALL MIGHTY."

So, I stood in the gap and spoke life to Jacob Daniel... I spoke healing to his head and his spine and his heart... and as I did so, I was overcome with emotion... I wept... I wept for this precious babe and his loving mother and father... and I wept for the faith that I have lost.

Once Upon a Tuesday Dreary...

while I pondered weak and weary...

It's been quite a day, bloggers. It started with my 9 am call to my doctor's office to get the results of my MRI. The nurse, who sounded like she was all of 15 years old, informed me that I had a herniated L5-S1 disc. "That's funny," I said, "I had that disc removed eight years ago." She spat and sputtered and didn't seem to know quite what to say. So, I gave her an assignment: "take this report to MY doctor (not one of the partners or one of the PAs) and have him call the radiologist for a new reading of the film."

When I went home for lunch, there was a message from dear, sweet Candy (not her real name, of course, but it fits). After hours of calling the poor radiologist everything from e to id, it turns out that our dear CANDY was the one who didn't know her butt from third base. She read the report wrong! I really have a herniated L4-L5 disc, with a narrowing of the disc space at L5-S1, indicative of a degenerative process (don't these guys ever read the patient profile? If he had, he would have known that there is NO DISC there to degenerate!). So, while this partly exonerates the radiologist, he's still scheduled to be dropped from my family and friends calling list, pronto!

So, as if that weren't bad enough, after going home to gulp down a pain pill and driving all the way across town in rush hour traffic to meet with a client, I've been stood up. I was worried about being a couple of minutes late because of a bad traffic accident and she didn't even bother to call to say she wasn't coming. Lovely!

Here I sit, in the agent's office, waiting for traffic to clear up a bit before hitting the road again. My Tramadol's working about half as well as I would like it to.

I think I'll go home and take an extra dose of muscle relaxers, wash them down with a bottle of wine and take a long, long nap. I don't have any appointments until after lunch tomorrow... can't hurt, right???

(How funny is it that spell checker keeps stopping on 'herniated' and giving me the option of changing it to 'urinated'? It must only be funny to people like me who spent several years peeing through a straw because of a herniation. Hysterical, this spell checker!)

Pain

Having been in constant pain for weeks now, I thought I'd reached the end of my rope -- I simply could NOT take it any more. Then, today, I learned of a tragedy that broke my heart and my pain seemed so superficial and silly and so BEARABLE.

Today I learned that a dear friend who has hoped and wished and prayed for a healthy child for years -- who has suffered three losses already -- and who was finally past the dreaded first trimester with her miracle baby... today, I learned that her precious baby boy may not live long enough to meet her. She received the devastating news that there are numerous abnormalities -- probably chromosomal in nature. The odds are not good and my heart is just breaking for her. Having lost several pregnancies myself, I know some of the pain... but to get to nearly 20 weeks and be dealt this blow... my mind just cannot comprehend the anguish she must be feeling.

Thoughts and prayers for strength and healing for my dear, dear friend.

======================================================

As for me, as if it really matters today, I'm scheduled for an MRI at 10:30 tonight. My back still hurts - especially when I sit for a while and then try to stand up. I'm walking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. What a dashing sight I make sweeping into a client's office! Yeah, I'd give me tens of thousands of dollars to fund MY buy/sell agreement! NOT!!!

Anyway, I'll update tomorrow on how it goes. I know I won't get any results tonight... it's just hurry up and wait for the doctors to decide what to do with me next.

Ugh!

Oh, I did get some better pain meds... Tramadol... it doesn't make me see monsters (did I tell you about that... hmmm... guess not). The other night, I took all of my meds before going to bed and woke up with these HORRENDOUS nightmares! There were monsters and spiders and things going bump in the night. I decided to ditch the painkillers and just stick with the muscle relaxers and prednisone. I finished the entire pack of the steroids, but it doesn't seem to have done much good.

Enough rambling from me... it doesn't seem to matter so much in the grand scheme of things anyway.

I swear, I think my heart stopped...

thankfully, I was in the ER. After struggling with back pain off and on since the week before the big show, I finally caved and called my doctor. The pain was shooting down my legs and I had burning and muscle spasms in my calves. Of course, it was a Friday and the only time they could see me was 20 minutes prior to a closing appointment I had that was worth five figures in commission -- so after the appointment, I went off to the ER (courtesy of the ex, who dropped me off at the curb and left me there). After a two hour wait (which I spent pacing because sitting was just EXCRUCIATING), I was taken back to a bed where I waited another hour -- alone. All I could think was, "If I have to have another back surgery, I'll go bankrupt. I can't afford to be out of work for a month. I'll have to move in with my parents. I'll be back to square one." And the tears escaped the corners of my eyes, despite my best efforts to contain them.

One of the reasons I decided to go to the ER and not a doc in a box was that I thought they'd give me an MRI and I'd be one step ahead of the game. I was amazed to learn that they will only give you an MRI for back pain when there is evidence of cord compression -- i.e. numbness, or the inability to pee or poop. Now, the last time I was in the ER for my back, I met all of those criterion. This time, however, I just got drugs... and that's where the title of this post comes in. They put in an IV and gave me Dilaudid, phenergan and a massive dose of steroids. When the Dialudid hit my system, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't talk, it felt like my throat was closing up and I panicked! The nurse told me that everyone reacts differently and that I must be uber sensitive. She took my BP and it was just 90/58, so I got to stay a little while longer. She told me that drug addicts live for the moment when the dilaudid hits their systems. I say they can have it! It scared the shit out of me!!! Of course, I felt like a wet noodle after I caught my breath and my heart started beating again! LOL

Anyway, I have to call my primary on Monday to get an MRI scheduled. For now, I'm on a cocktail of Hydrocodone, Robaxin and prednisolone (so you'll have to excuse any typos). Just pray that I don't have to have surgery. I'm not overly optimistic about my chances of avoiding it... because even on the drugs, I can't sit for more than five minutes... which are now up... so I'm signing off.

As American as Apple Pie is a Hit!

Critics are raving, people are saying...

"I haven't had this much fun in years!" ~Greta Snootytoot

"This is a top-notch group of performers... especially that belter... what's her name? Lauren something? WOW! Did they fly her in from New York just for this?" ~ Grizzy Grumpus

"HOLY COW! I had no idea there was this much talent right here in Great Bridge!" ~Mel Vance, Theatre Critic, the Great Bridge Post

"You should take this show on the road! I'm sure they'd love you in Peoria!" ~ Mr. Rich Britches

As you can see, last night's performance was a ROUSING success and a ton-o-fun! The whole crew headed to the local wing joint afterward for a celebratory libation and today, we get to do it all again! We raised over $3,000 for our choir's concert tour in Germany next summer (which is just fantastic!) and we expect to raise even more tonight.

Digital video and audio clips will be forthcoming in the next few days... so, keep those browsers pointed here!!!

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Any similarity to persons either living or dead is purely coincidental!

The Diva is BACK!

So, (damn, I sure start a lot of posts with that word... maybe I need to expand the vocabulary a bit)...

Take Two: Well, my faithful readers, tonight the Diva was in the house! We did a run-through of the show and, despite my unrest with my location and partner on the Irving Berlin medley, it seems I'm pretty much center stage for the rest of the show... it's almost embarrassing... okay, not really... I'm just trying to summon a shred of modesty.

It seems that the industrial strength bra I purchased today alleviated most of the bouncing booby problem (sorry to disappoint, Jack! LOL) and I even got some additional (special - just for me) choreography. Did I mention that I love to perform... yeah, I thought it might have come up a time or two.

Anyhooo... It's late and I'm exhausted... but it's a good kind of exhausted. This... THIS I could do every day... they wouldn't even have to pay me. Oh, to be a 40's Torch Singer...

The Curse of the Big Boobies

Oh, for the days of wearing Danskin leotards sans brassiere... they're long gone, I fear. Now, I'm strapped with 38DD honkers that just won't be still. I walk - they jiggle, I bounce - they bounce, I dance, they... well... they blacken my eyes if I'm not careful. I hate having big boobs... I didn't used to have them and one would have thought that my weight loss of over 20 pounds would have reduced their volume... but no such luck... my legs are skinny, my face is thin... but my boobs remain... only now more prominent because the belly beneath them has disappeared.

I just spent the last half hour standing in front of my mirror trying on every bra in my bureau and then jumping up and down (surely that would have made a great entry for America's Funniest Home Videos). The only one that even remotely tames them also causes the dreaded Uni-Boob phenomenon... one giant boob right in front. It's NOT attractive.

So, it's off to Sears tomorrow to see the bra fitter. I'm thinking perhaps cast iron or brass... If it worked for Brunhilda, surely it will work for me!!!

Broadway it Ain't!

Rehearsals for the upcoming cabaret are in full swing. I was feeling great about our group's sound -- we have a wonderful blend. We even have some nice solos. Well, tonight that all vanished -- poof -- went up in smoke. You see, tonight, we started adding choreography.

Now, that's no problem for me -- I was born dancing -- but for the vast majority of our ensemble, it's a MAJOR problem. You know the type: two left feet, rhythmically challenged, white men can't dance (or is it jump?). I ask you, if great dancers make bad ideas look good, what happens when you have awful dancers and mediocre ideas??? EEEGADS!!!

What ever made these people think that 60+ year old men and women should try to execute a uniform sway, or worse yet, do "Fosse"? And who, pray tell, EVER decided that I (one of the FEW who can walk and chew gum at the same time) should be coupled with an old man who has neither rhythm nor melody in his frail old frame and positioned at the farther-most point away from center stage? Who, I ask?

Ah... well, at least I have my solos.... and, well, we'll always have Paris.

(sigh)

A Brand New Day

Ah, what a difference a day makes. Last evening, my ex came over and brought me a brand-spanking new TV... told me "Happy Birthday -- a little early". Then, today, Wally-World (aka Wal-Mart) was having a sale on their camping air mattresses. I got a new one with a memory foam topper and a new pump for under $50. So, my Universe is a happier place today.

Now, for some Random Bullets of Crap:

• My back yard looks like the Thousand Islands - I still haven't been able to get it leveled and aerated enough to absorb the rainfall. I'll get there, though. Did I post about the butt-hole who came over to "re-grade" it for me and all he ended up doing was scraping off all of my top soil and packing down a bunch of clay? I swear I could have hosted Wimbledon back there. It may still take weeks to get it fixed and get some grass planted.
• I had another appointment cancel this morning. I don't know what it is with people. About 50 percent either don't show up for their appointments or cancel at the last minute. How inconsiderate! Anyway... I'm shooting for 100% of my remaining appointments for the week. I INTEND to meet with ALL of them... and I INTEND to meet my sales goal for the second quarter!
• So... Aras is the newest Survivor. Should have been Terry. Nuff said.

That's all from me for today. Make the day count!

Blue Funk

Happy @#%&* Mother's Day. NOT!

Warning: this is a pissy, pitty party of a post. Read at your own risk.

So... the tv's dead, my sales are in the toilet and now my $%&*)$ air mattress has a leak. By three o'clock this morning, my butt was hitting the box spring. I have neither the patience nor the money to purchase a new television or a new mattress and I'm pretty pissed off at the whole universe right now. I know this isn't the right way of thinking about things... I know that we attract into our lives those things on which we place our attention... but damned if I can remember contemplating not having a tv to watch or a bed to sleep on or even money to pay my bills.

Add to it all the fact that today is Mother's Day and everyone keeps wishing me Happy Mother's Day... thanks for the reminder of the one thing I'll NEVER be! Even today's scripture readings were like a kick in the gut: Blessed is the woman whose children and grandchildren praise her. Guess I'm in the "unblessed" line. Lovely.

Life Without

Yes, can I have my life without television, please? I don't remember asking for it, but that's what I've gotten this morning. I turned on CNN, as is my morning habit, and all of a sudden Tony Harris' face starts to distort... then the screen starts rolling... it fades to gray and then with a flash, the set goes black. My faithful Zenith has left me... bereft and floundering in a season finale frenzy.

My mind races... Sunday night is the season finale of West Wing AND Survivor... Shit! And what will happen with Dr. Brown and his neighbor on Everwood? And then there's American Idol (okay, I fell off the boycott wagon... so sue me!) Of course, now that Chris has gone bye-bye, I really don't care who wins that... as long as it's not Taylor! And the FINAL episode of Will & Grace...

So, after two months of abysmal sales, I start to calculate: maybe the mortgage company won't NOTICE if I skip a month... and if I use my AMEX to pay my Visa bill and my Discover to pay my AMEX and my Visa to pay my Discover, maybe I can afford to buy a new set! Not likely.

So, I'm left with the option of either sucking up to my friends and family who watch the same shows, or bar hopping until I find a friendly bartender who'll give me the remote! The sad thing is, this has made it abundantly apparent that this self-professed NON-TV addicted soul is in far deeper trouble than she ever imagined... it's an old song, with a new twist: I want my HDTV!

Happiness is...

As I prepare to leave town for a few days for a conference, the thoughts of leaving my puppy who worships the ground I walk on just breaks my heart. I've grown accustomed to him snuggling up to me every time I sit down... to his puppy kisses and his care-free, jubilant style of play. I often think that if I were half as joyful about my life as Caleb is about his that I would be the happiest person on earth. All he needs is a little food, a good chew toy and an occasional belly rub and he's so happy his entire body wags.

I'm reminded of the story of a frail elderly lady who, after losing her dear husband, was being admitted to a nursing home. As she was being led to her new room, her attendant was describing it for her. She exclaimed, "oh, I LOVE it!" The attendant said, "but you haven't even seen it yet!" Her response, "Oh, I don't need to see it to know that I love it. You see, happiness is something you decide on ahead of time."

Today, I have decided to be happy.

The Drive Home...

Retrograde Motion

Driving down the boulevard yesterday, I saw three very attractive young women in crack-hugging shorts and cleavage revealing t-shirts trying to entice male drivers into the local Hooters. The whole scene set the women's movement back a century. For so long, women fought to be seen as something more than sexual objects and baby-making machines... and here these young women stood, striking provocative pose after provocative pose... what a shame.

Intolerance

Two blocks away from the scene above, I see a pick-up truck bearing the following bumper sticker: "Kill 'em all -- Let Allah sort them out." This is the same grade of intolerance that defines the "Islamic extremists"... what a shame.

False Advertising

Another mile down the road, I nearly crashed my car at the site of a filling station with regular grade gas advertised for $2.92 per gallon. As I prepared to make a U-turn to go back, I realized that all of the Regular and Plus nozzles were covered with bags... they only had Premium for $3.19 per gallon. False advertising... what a shame.

Gas Wars

This morning, for about the hundreth time, I received the e-mail that encourages Americans to boycott American petroleum company ExxonMobil. For me, that's virtually an impossibility, because I've already boycotted foreign gas suppliers Citgo (Venezuelan), Shell (Dutch) and BP (British), in an effort to keep my dollars at home. That doesn't leave many other options, save the independents -- and I can't seem to find out where their gas comes from.

Perhaps I've become too much the nationalist here recently -- buying American whenever I can -- but given the significant impact that foreign products are having on my local economy (Norfolk Ford Plant to Close), I just can't see myself inflicting even the smallest of injuries to an American company. Perhaps I'm naive to think that my measly contributions to US companies could have even the slightest of impacts... but to sit idly by and watch industry after industry move overseas is frightening. We are already so dependent on foreign imports that our country could be paralyzed at the mere whim of a hostile nation.

I'm just saying...

Ohmmmmmmmmm

In an effort to reach a zen-like state and enhance my life experience, I have recently taken up meditation. The type of meditation I'm practicing (and I mean practicing, because I sure as hell haven't mastered it yet) is called Jappa meditation and it relies on sound to bring you into harmony with the universal energy. The sound for the morning meditation is "Ah". It is the sound of creation/pro-creation and manifestation. As pointed out by the instructor, the sound "ah" is a part of many of the different names for God, Allah, Buddah, Jehovah, etc. I do well for the first few minutes -- other than my obsession with matching the pitch of the man on the CD -- then, I find that I start to think about a zillion different things.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh... is my first appointment at 9 or 10? if it's at nine, I'd better cut this short and hop in the shower."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh... (affirmation - I am unlimited in my wealth -- all areas of my life are abundant and fulfilling)... I wonder when that case is going to be released for payment... I really need a check next week. Dang it -- concentrate, Lauren!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhh... I am as successful as I make up my mind to be... I wonder if this stuff really works...

"Ahhhhhhhhhh... CRAP! I forgot to take the dog out -- I hope he hasn't peed on the carpet. Come on, Lauren, FOCUS, FOCUS!!!"

"Ahhhhhhhhh... hell, just forget it. I'm too ADD for this stuff!"

The nighttime meditation is working better... it's based on the "Ommmmm" sound... as in Shalom... or Peace. I actually manage to fall asleep doing this meditation. Somehow, I have the feeling I'm going to be a very peaceful person vibrating at odds with the universe and never fully manifesting the divine being that I am. Ah, well, that's life!

Blogger's Block

Sorry to have been away for so long, my faithful few! I must admit to staring quite blankly at the screen on several occasions thinking, "surely no one wants to hear these banal musings." I'm not entirely convinced that today's post is worth the bandwidth required to post it; however, I've determined that the only way to break through the block is to just DO IT!

Since last I posted, I have been cast in a dinner theatre show. It's small-time... mostly choral music with some solos and skits thrown in for good measure... and is being done as a fund-raiser for my choir's trip to Germany next year. I'm doing a couple of solos, a trio and a quartet. It's fun... and it's invigorating. I'd forgotten what a sense of wellbeing I get from being involved in creative endeavors -- especially where music is involved. I have to admit to a bit of nostalgic longing creeping in around the edges as well. I know there's no use in "if only, woulda, coulda, shoulda" talk, but I can't help but think what my life might have been had I taken the plunge and gone to New York against my mother's dire warnings of what the city would do to me. ("If you go to New York, they will CHEW you up and SPIT you out.") No good can come of these thoughts... so I try to banish them as soon as they appear.

At work, I closed my first quarter well short of my goal -- there will be no trip for me (at least not this quarter). I'm still working to hit the second quarter goal, but I'll have to practically triple my production. I'd much rather rehearse my music!

On the homefront, I'm planning some landscaping work for the spring -- if I can ever get the blinkin' contractors to return my calls. I have an appointment to have two trees removed and three others heavily pruned. Then, the back yard will be re-graded to alleviate the flooding problem and then a fence will go up. That should pretty well exhaust my home improvement budget for this year. Next year, I'll work on beautification!

Cheese and crackers, this is boring stuff!

Where's Paul Harvey when you need him?

I ask this because I (like my cyber-friend Kim) want to know the rest of the story on this Ports deal. It is a heaping pile of fertilizer that gives off a pungent odor, if you ask me.

I don't usually go on about politics on my site -- I have readers from both sides of the aisle -- some with very strong opinions I don't happen to share and I hate to argue! It's like my grandpa used to say, "never discuss politics or religion in polite company -- it's a sure-fire way to end friendships." This, however, has me feeling sick to my stomach. I have this sinking, gnawing feeling in my gut that this proposed deal is inextricably tied to the escalating nuclear "crisis" in Iran. If I didn't know better (do I know better?) I'd say that GW is trying to buy us an ally in the region so he can be properly positioned to strike when the time comes (and I believe the time IS coming... the war mongers are already beating their chests and making threats).

If this administration gets us into another conflict, I'm afraid I might just join the ranks of those with whom I've rarely agreed before and call for an impeachment hearing. We, the mighty Americans, who have weapons of mass destruction at our disposal... the ONLY nation that has ever used them against an enemy... we, the mighty, get to decide what free nations can do within their own borders, for their own protection? How is that fostering Democracy? And is it worth American lives to simply delay the inevitable? If a nation wants to develop these weapons, they'll figure out a way... be it now or AFTER we've blown up their cities and killed their families. Hmmm... I think they'd be more dangerous AFTER, don't you?

Can of Worms

Yesterday, I opened a can of worms. It was not my intent to open a can of worms... I don't particularly like worms in cans... I think they belong in the ground, tilling the soil and doing what worms do... but however inadvertently, open a can of worms I did.

I was having a conversation with a customer in his late-40's who seemed to feel that his $80k per year salary could be replaced with a $150,000 life insurance policy if he died. In trying to get him to understand that we are none promised a tomorrow, I mentioned the untimely death of Dana Reeve. The sermon that ensued set me back on my heels and I was so stunned that I could hardly speak.

Customer: "Well, I have religious issues with her and that husband of hers. The fact that they want to take stem cells from embryos and practically grow them as a crop to be harvested is just wrong" and on and on and on he went about the "evil" that Dana and Christopher perpetrated.

It sounded to my ears almost as if he was saying that the reason they both died was because of their beliefs about embryonic stem cell research. Surely that cannot be? Surely there are not people in this world who believe that God metes out a death sentence to those who dare push the bounds of science in an effort to save and restore lives.

Now, far be it from me to get into the bio-ethics of a concept so complicated -- that's not my intent here. I just never thought that in the course of doing business I would come face to face with such vehement, vitriolic "stuff" -- and this from a self-professed "man of God."

I guess I should consider the source, as this came from a man who referred to the prospectus for his funds as a precipitous.

Women

Overheard in a restaurant... (woman in her 60's talking to younger woman in her 40's):
"There are days when my husband is the perfect justification for why there are lesbians in this world."

I chuckled to myself when I heard this... and then I thought about it... and it made me wonder...

My best friends have always been gay men. I've never particularly gotten along with women -- especially groups of women -- whom I usually find to be petty, small and boring -- so that would seem to exclude me as a lesbian from the get-go. My most engaging and interesting relationships have been with my single female friends, gay men and older women whose children are grown and gone -- women who have outside interests like theatre, music and intellectual pursuits. Perhaps because I am childless, I am at a disadvantage with most women my age who talk about their kids ad nauseum and complain about their husbands daily. Neither subject interests me in the least.

But back to the lesbian thing... I notice that more often than not I am drawn to the female form. A recent example is this season's Dancing With the Stars -- I was completely enamored of Stacy Keibler and couldn't have given a rat's (*) about any of the men -- even the professional dancers. I remember watching Cider House Rules and saying out loud for my soon-to-be-ex to hear, "That is the most exquisite female body I have ever seen" as a nude Charlize Theron stretched out across the bed.

Maybe my newly acquired single status is getting to me... maybe I've had enough disappointments with straight men to last a lifetime... maybe it's nothing and maybe I'm just a well-adjusted hetero who is secure enough to appreciate beauty when she sees it... but I remember well the night in college when my best friend and I -- a little drunk and a little curious -- left the bar and headed back to the dorm where we pushed together two twin beds. Had she not had a serious boyfriend at the time, I think that something might actually have happened beyond passing out in each others' arms. I loved her -- that's for sure -- I still do -- I always will -- but she's one of my dearest friends, married with seven kids.

I know this is probably a shocking revelation for some of you who've known me on the "Trying to Conceive" and "TTC after miscarriage" boards. I don't know if there's anything to it... the statement just got me thinking. Tomorrow I'll probably be done with the inquiry. I have to say, however, that there's still something about a nice, hard... well... never mind (blush).