What is a senior? According to our society, it has to do with receiving the stipend payment from the government for past work done, i guess. My payment started almost 10 years ago---so the government says i am way beyond the senior identity.
Yesterday a friend and i decided to attend the "senior" Christmas party at my local senior center. My family is all out of town. Believe me it has been extremely difficult for me to attend any senior organized activity. Pride being the major factor i think. But that being said i am mellowing and can be found at more, and some of them i attend with a slight show of grace.
The wonderful people who sponsored the party are to be commended. The food was pretty good, but the best part for me was the dancing, and the especially attractive kind young man who took the time to dance, and talk, and really engage me in conversation. He made my day believe me, and i will forever be grateful to him.
We did the "slide" which was new to me and i also attempted a couple other dances while inserting my own style. I always loved to dance and am considered a good dancer if i do say so myself. In fact my young partner commented on that fact.
Actually all the volunteers who made the day possible are to be thanked and blessed as they gave their time for all we seniors. Santa came with presents and I left feeling joyful and relaxed.
This morning now, the body is a little sore, but i am happy to have experienced my first Christmas at the Senior Center. I had friends to go with and new friends to meet. I know i am a senior, but more in body then in mind. We all get there in time---sometimes sooner then we think, or want.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Thursday, November 14, 2013
New Chuke
On my many travels to the New York Public Library on 5th avenue and 40th street, i pass BCBG Max Azria, the high end fashion store, located directly across 40th street from my destination. The windows are beautifully done and cause me to stop and linger every time i need to return or pick up a book.
Many times i have wanted to go in and just look. Several times i have, but with varying results. My body frame is not the usual for the designer fashion but the draw of the fabulous designs in the window, and the styling, is candy for my artists eyes. Most of the sales people have been kind and helpful when i have asked a question or requested a peek at something on the bottom floor. Sometimes not, making me all the more determined to check things out.
Sean Combs had a store on the block before BCBG's which has since closed. I loved the windows there too and would go in even though a men's store. The graphics and styling intrigued me. Never bought any thing in his store but have regretted not even purchasing a t-shirt. Now it's long gone so i only have BCBG's left to salivate over.
Well----several weeks ago i noticed an adorable Bobby's hat like the police wear in London, on a mannequin, and so i popped in to see and ask the price. The price point for hats was not bad and i thought maybe i could treat myself to the treasure, but low and behold the hat was way big and not as attractive on as i hoped it would be. Too bad!!!!!!
A few days ago i made my regular trip to the library and was stopped dead in my tracks when i saw, on the head of a mannequin a chuke with a veil.
My mother spoke french Canadian when i was growing up. My grandmother lived with us. Chuke was what we called a "stocking cap" or winter warm hat of simple design to keep the head warm. My brother once went shopping for a winter hat and came home amazed because no one had chuke's in stock. It was winter and there should have been plenty. What a surprise when my mother told us that chuke was french for stocking cap. No one understood what my brother was asking for.
Well, the reason i'm saying all this is because a few days ago i walked by BCBG's on my way to pick up a book i had on hold, and low and behold i saw the same hat on a mannequin that i saw a few weeks ago while watching the fashion runway show from Paris. Bill Cunningham from the Times, did a video report on women attending the show and women on the street wearing the chuke with a vail. OMG How perfect was that. When i saw that hat, on the mannequin at BCBG's, i had to have it. Well, I did. I splurged and bought my self a gift. Veils are cool but on a chuke---Now that's beyond cool.
Can't wait to tell my older brother about my new hat. He will probably say "it's not a real chuke". That's like my dad telling me many years ago that my new Fry boots were "not real shit kickin boots" when i told him i bought cowboy boots. What do they know--They're boys.
My chuke however, instead of being made of wool, is make of angora and has a fab angora pom pom. A little luxury never hurt anybody.
Many times i have wanted to go in and just look. Several times i have, but with varying results. My body frame is not the usual for the designer fashion but the draw of the fabulous designs in the window, and the styling, is candy for my artists eyes. Most of the sales people have been kind and helpful when i have asked a question or requested a peek at something on the bottom floor. Sometimes not, making me all the more determined to check things out.
Sean Combs had a store on the block before BCBG's which has since closed. I loved the windows there too and would go in even though a men's store. The graphics and styling intrigued me. Never bought any thing in his store but have regretted not even purchasing a t-shirt. Now it's long gone so i only have BCBG's left to salivate over.
Well----several weeks ago i noticed an adorable Bobby's hat like the police wear in London, on a mannequin, and so i popped in to see and ask the price. The price point for hats was not bad and i thought maybe i could treat myself to the treasure, but low and behold the hat was way big and not as attractive on as i hoped it would be. Too bad!!!!!!
A few days ago i made my regular trip to the library and was stopped dead in my tracks when i saw, on the head of a mannequin a chuke with a veil.
My mother spoke french Canadian when i was growing up. My grandmother lived with us. Chuke was what we called a "stocking cap" or winter warm hat of simple design to keep the head warm. My brother once went shopping for a winter hat and came home amazed because no one had chuke's in stock. It was winter and there should have been plenty. What a surprise when my mother told us that chuke was french for stocking cap. No one understood what my brother was asking for.
Well, the reason i'm saying all this is because a few days ago i walked by BCBG's on my way to pick up a book i had on hold, and low and behold i saw the same hat on a mannequin that i saw a few weeks ago while watching the fashion runway show from Paris. Bill Cunningham from the Times, did a video report on women attending the show and women on the street wearing the chuke with a vail. OMG How perfect was that. When i saw that hat, on the mannequin at BCBG's, i had to have it. Well, I did. I splurged and bought my self a gift. Veils are cool but on a chuke---Now that's beyond cool.
Can't wait to tell my older brother about my new hat. He will probably say "it's not a real chuke". That's like my dad telling me many years ago that my new Fry boots were "not real shit kickin boots" when i told him i bought cowboy boots. What do they know--They're boys.
My chuke however, instead of being made of wool, is make of angora and has a fab angora pom pom. A little luxury never hurt anybody.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Frida and Diego
My nest, on the 19th floor, is serene and calm now. For two weeks i was without my fish and found myself looking for them in the morning when i woke up and longing for the slow undulating sight of fish enjoying their world.
The new tank i created is a zen tank with different size glass balls and a glass spire plus blue gravel and lots of glass marbles, and a couple flowers swaying back and forth. My goldfish Frida is adorable with a white face and a tiny golden liner around the lips. Diego is larger and i'm afraid has the bully instinct. I need to watch him though cuz i have fallen in love with Frida and i don't want her abused. She seems the smarter of the two and gets away from him so maybe it will be ok.
Life is good with fish and i'm glad my good friend Bobby gave me the tank long ago that set me on this new fish adventure. I've lost a few but i guess that's part of the deal when dealing with gold fish or any fish actually. We are all creatures of the earth who live the best we can and then we die. Nature.
The new tank i created is a zen tank with different size glass balls and a glass spire plus blue gravel and lots of glass marbles, and a couple flowers swaying back and forth. My goldfish Frida is adorable with a white face and a tiny golden liner around the lips. Diego is larger and i'm afraid has the bully instinct. I need to watch him though cuz i have fallen in love with Frida and i don't want her abused. She seems the smarter of the two and gets away from him so maybe it will be ok.
Life is good with fish and i'm glad my good friend Bobby gave me the tank long ago that set me on this new fish adventure. I've lost a few but i guess that's part of the deal when dealing with gold fish or any fish actually. We are all creatures of the earth who live the best we can and then we die. Nature.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
The Dilemmas of Friendship
Having had the great fortune of a loving family, two wonderful children and a grandchild that i adore plus friends in my life from long ago and now, i find myself in a quandary.
A long time friendship is changing. I'm sure friendships are constantly changing due to circumstances in one's life and maybe that's what's happening to mine. Whatever it is, it has been painful.
My friend from an early age and i, have kept a periodic in touch relationship. Life happens and due to marriage, divorce, kids, jobs, and moving, the time in communication has been sporadic until the last few years.
The two of us are in constant email mode. Both of us like to write and love communicating via email. She keeps me updated on her always active and social life, her travels, her friends--all her happenings on an almost daily, sometimes more basis. I do the same.
The time has come to cut back i think. Can't really explain it but the feelings are as if i am paralyzed and unable to deal any more with the circumstances of her life. It hurts. I have no control (nor do i want any) over her life. She doesn't need my approval or my comments. I do however have feeling and even when i express them they seem to hit dead air.
Life goes on and friends come and go but some friends are more important then others. It makes me sad to see a friendship i care about so much, slowly die. We are both responsible.
I must say though, our several year email marathon would make an intriguing book.
A long time friendship is changing. I'm sure friendships are constantly changing due to circumstances in one's life and maybe that's what's happening to mine. Whatever it is, it has been painful.
My friend from an early age and i, have kept a periodic in touch relationship. Life happens and due to marriage, divorce, kids, jobs, and moving, the time in communication has been sporadic until the last few years.
The two of us are in constant email mode. Both of us like to write and love communicating via email. She keeps me updated on her always active and social life, her travels, her friends--all her happenings on an almost daily, sometimes more basis. I do the same.
The time has come to cut back i think. Can't really explain it but the feelings are as if i am paralyzed and unable to deal any more with the circumstances of her life. It hurts. I have no control (nor do i want any) over her life. She doesn't need my approval or my comments. I do however have feeling and even when i express them they seem to hit dead air.
Life goes on and friends come and go but some friends are more important then others. It makes me sad to see a friendship i care about so much, slowly die. We are both responsible.
I must say though, our several year email marathon would make an intriguing book.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Fall and Winter and Cold, Oh My!!
My joy started the day the sun reached it's highest peak. Oh boy!! The days began shrinking and my longing began. Summer i knew, was upon us, and with it the horrible humidity that plagues my town. The concrete exacerbates the problem and the extra padding i wear doesn't help, BUT, i have air conditioning and am free to stay in or come in out of the heat whenever i want. Still it's horrid.
As the days shortened, and the heat grew intolerable, all i could think of was the fall and winter coming up. Cooler weather and a more comfortable life. I'd have more energy, would be in a better frame of mind, and projects would get done. At least my outlook would be better.
My mother, many years ago, said to me "December 21st is my favorite day". What??? Mom loved the summer. She hated winter, and on December 21st the coldest time of the season was ahead of us. "Mom, i thought you loved summer best". She often said "Christmas should be in July" or "Let's celebrate Christmas in July instead of December." She then explained to me the since the days started getting longer on December 21st, spring and her beloved summer was just around the corner and it gave her something to look forward too. My brilliant mom--why didn't i think of that. So i have since reversed the idea and have made June 21st my favorite day of the year. It helps me get through the horrid summer. I have brisker weather to look forward too.
When fall rolls around and the rains increase, as do the clouds and the time changes, and we have more dark then light, my mood improves. Many times i have written the weather people on TV news to explain that there are some people who thrive in the rain and the dark and the gloom. I don't understand it either but not everyone feels joyous and free when the warm weather descends!!!!!
I'm in hog heaven right now. I had to put on my heavier jacket and my scarf and a hat earlier to go run some errands cuz guess what----life is good and the best days are yet to come. Baby it's cold outside!!
As the days shortened, and the heat grew intolerable, all i could think of was the fall and winter coming up. Cooler weather and a more comfortable life. I'd have more energy, would be in a better frame of mind, and projects would get done. At least my outlook would be better.
My mother, many years ago, said to me "December 21st is my favorite day". What??? Mom loved the summer. She hated winter, and on December 21st the coldest time of the season was ahead of us. "Mom, i thought you loved summer best". She often said "Christmas should be in July" or "Let's celebrate Christmas in July instead of December." She then explained to me the since the days started getting longer on December 21st, spring and her beloved summer was just around the corner and it gave her something to look forward too. My brilliant mom--why didn't i think of that. So i have since reversed the idea and have made June 21st my favorite day of the year. It helps me get through the horrid summer. I have brisker weather to look forward too.
When fall rolls around and the rains increase, as do the clouds and the time changes, and we have more dark then light, my mood improves. Many times i have written the weather people on TV news to explain that there are some people who thrive in the rain and the dark and the gloom. I don't understand it either but not everyone feels joyous and free when the warm weather descends!!!!!
I'm in hog heaven right now. I had to put on my heavier jacket and my scarf and a hat earlier to go run some errands cuz guess what----life is good and the best days are yet to come. Baby it's cold outside!!
Monday, August 19, 2013
Angels and Roommates
The city i live in is know for it's art, it's culture, it's fashion.....and it's high cost of living. The HIGH cost of living. So how can i be here???? It's easy---i have angels. I've always had angels and i
am sure if you were to examine your life, you too would have many.
Roommates are a necessity for many of us living in the city. I've had my share and not just in this city.
Before i moved here and after my second divorce i decided to go back to school. While in school i lived in many rooms in many houses. I also house set. I stayed at a house while a friend and angel transformed the house into the first bed and breakfast Inn in Eugene, OR.
Some of the living situations required roommates, and some of them were horrible. One had a boyfriend who was a coke dealer and arranged for someone to come in while i was at school and steal thousand of dollars worth of jewelry that i had acquired during my marriages. (Little did they know that because of that horrible experience i would create a line of jewelry made of glass and copper and brass instead of diamonds, emeralds, gold and platinum.)
One of my roommates and one of my angels was the one who suggested i take a metalsmithing class. "Oh! Dan's class is an easy A. You need some hours so give it a go and besides you'll have some new jewelry". said Dominique.
A. D. Original was created out of that experience and at the age of 44 i discovered i was an artist. Who'da thunk it. Not me. I found out i was, and am, an artist. I loved working with metal. I combined some glass, at first in the form of marbles, with the metals-- copper and brass, and put them together in various forms. A new life opened up for me. Thanks Dominique.
My friend and angel Denise had moved to NYC as had my daughter. Denise and her husband had a two bedroom apartment. The invitation was extended for me to stay if i decided i wanted to try the NYC market.
Another friend and angel arranged an art sale in Medford, invited me to participate with him and lo and behold i earned enough money for a plane ticket to the city of my dreams. I said goodbye to my mother, with whom i had been living, my friends and family, and i was off.
I had a place to live. There were, however some glitches in the arrangement. My friends welcomed me with opened arms, however the fellow tenants didn't. Being the third adult living in the apartment was in violation of some sort of lease agreement and i had to leave after a couple months. In the meantime I found a little boutique on Madison Ave that agreed to carry some of my line on consignment. Oh Boy i was on my way--but i need new living arrangements.
My only option at the time was to move into the apartment in Hell's Kitchen with my daughter, son-in-law and grandson. I loved the area but living in a tiny space with three other people was a hardship for all of us and most of all for my daughter and her family.
The next and most precious of my angels came to my rescue. Bobby, whom i affectionately call Booby, invited me to come be his roommate on the first floor of the same apartment building as i was now living. Booby is my son-in-laws brother. Oh--Lucky me!!!
My gentle angel, in the form of Booby, transformed my next 21 years in Manhattan. His tiny apartment had a neat little loft at one end that was built by Booby to house his frequent visiting guests. There was a ladder to climb and enough room for a single mattress. One couldn't stand up but who cares--i had a place to live---with an actor, who had a gazillion friends, and extensive knowledge of New York city living. I'd hit the motherload.
B. painted the space a perfect orange with white trim, built some shelving for my jewelry supplies, found some carpet and i began my life as a jewelry designer in Manhattan. I could sit all day, listen to my tv or radio and make orders that were sent to me from my friend and rep in Oregon. I still needed a part time job so my daughter suggested i try "Nicolina's" who might not only hire me to work but might take on my jewelry line as well. More angels.
I was hired and so A.D. original and myself began a great 6 year run at Nicolina's, a fabulous little boutique in the theater district. Sales were moderate but good and my line soon became the property of quite a few celebrities of the theater.
The beautiful little unique boutique closed with the sudden death of the owner. It was a sad day, not only for the employees, but for the whole community in general. Nicole was the only one who could make Nicolina's work and sadly she was no longer with us.
Booby came home one night and said "Ann, ya know, there is a thrift shop opening up across the street and they're looking for someone to take over and set up and run the place. Go check it out. I think it's something you could do." Ya right Booby. I don't like thrift shops and i've never done anything like that. "You have lot's of retail experience so, just for fun, go over and check it out"
My dear angel must have told me several times over the period of several days of the opportunity across the street so just to get him off my back i went.
I was hired. The work was extensive and hard but i loved it. I loved the people, the experience of doing the design myself. The gig lasted 8 years and was fulfilling but physically taxing. My jewelry design work had slowed down along with my enthusiasm for pumping out the same designs over and over and over again.
Shortly after i moved in with my angel, he suggested i sign up for an apartment in Manhattan Plaza. I would be on a waiting list but it was a choice opportunity for anyone in the theater or living in the neighborhood as it was a government subsidised housing unit created specifically for the performing arts. %20 however, had to be rented to neighborhood, elderly, or handicapped. I would be considered neighborhood.
I balked again as i was only planning on being here for, three months, six months, one year, five years and on and on. Booby said "Ooh! just do it you never know". So i did. Time and life passed. 8 years i was on the list and renewing every year. Finally i was in, my apartment was ready.
After 30 years of no home of my own, i not only have my own place but i have a place fit for a queen--or at least an upwardly mobile serf!! At a price i can afford. My nest is on the 19th floor. My view is spectacular, my building well maintained and clean, my neighborhood exciting and busy and the transportation, for me, is right outside my door. There is a whole exciting world out there for me. I'm a little slower and and a little less mobile but i am in love with my life and all the wonderful people in it.
My years here have certainly been full of ups and downs. My angels have been many, my devils-few. Life is good.
am sure if you were to examine your life, you too would have many.
Roommates are a necessity for many of us living in the city. I've had my share and not just in this city.
Before i moved here and after my second divorce i decided to go back to school. While in school i lived in many rooms in many houses. I also house set. I stayed at a house while a friend and angel transformed the house into the first bed and breakfast Inn in Eugene, OR.
Some of the living situations required roommates, and some of them were horrible. One had a boyfriend who was a coke dealer and arranged for someone to come in while i was at school and steal thousand of dollars worth of jewelry that i had acquired during my marriages. (Little did they know that because of that horrible experience i would create a line of jewelry made of glass and copper and brass instead of diamonds, emeralds, gold and platinum.)
One of my roommates and one of my angels was the one who suggested i take a metalsmithing class. "Oh! Dan's class is an easy A. You need some hours so give it a go and besides you'll have some new jewelry". said Dominique.
A. D. Original was created out of that experience and at the age of 44 i discovered i was an artist. Who'da thunk it. Not me. I found out i was, and am, an artist. I loved working with metal. I combined some glass, at first in the form of marbles, with the metals-- copper and brass, and put them together in various forms. A new life opened up for me. Thanks Dominique.
My friend and angel Denise had moved to NYC as had my daughter. Denise and her husband had a two bedroom apartment. The invitation was extended for me to stay if i decided i wanted to try the NYC market.
Another friend and angel arranged an art sale in Medford, invited me to participate with him and lo and behold i earned enough money for a plane ticket to the city of my dreams. I said goodbye to my mother, with whom i had been living, my friends and family, and i was off.
I had a place to live. There were, however some glitches in the arrangement. My friends welcomed me with opened arms, however the fellow tenants didn't. Being the third adult living in the apartment was in violation of some sort of lease agreement and i had to leave after a couple months. In the meantime I found a little boutique on Madison Ave that agreed to carry some of my line on consignment. Oh Boy i was on my way--but i need new living arrangements.
My only option at the time was to move into the apartment in Hell's Kitchen with my daughter, son-in-law and grandson. I loved the area but living in a tiny space with three other people was a hardship for all of us and most of all for my daughter and her family.
The next and most precious of my angels came to my rescue. Bobby, whom i affectionately call Booby, invited me to come be his roommate on the first floor of the same apartment building as i was now living. Booby is my son-in-laws brother. Oh--Lucky me!!!
My gentle angel, in the form of Booby, transformed my next 21 years in Manhattan. His tiny apartment had a neat little loft at one end that was built by Booby to house his frequent visiting guests. There was a ladder to climb and enough room for a single mattress. One couldn't stand up but who cares--i had a place to live---with an actor, who had a gazillion friends, and extensive knowledge of New York city living. I'd hit the motherload.
B. painted the space a perfect orange with white trim, built some shelving for my jewelry supplies, found some carpet and i began my life as a jewelry designer in Manhattan. I could sit all day, listen to my tv or radio and make orders that were sent to me from my friend and rep in Oregon. I still needed a part time job so my daughter suggested i try "Nicolina's" who might not only hire me to work but might take on my jewelry line as well. More angels.
I was hired and so A.D. original and myself began a great 6 year run at Nicolina's, a fabulous little boutique in the theater district. Sales were moderate but good and my line soon became the property of quite a few celebrities of the theater.
The beautiful little unique boutique closed with the sudden death of the owner. It was a sad day, not only for the employees, but for the whole community in general. Nicole was the only one who could make Nicolina's work and sadly she was no longer with us.
Booby came home one night and said "Ann, ya know, there is a thrift shop opening up across the street and they're looking for someone to take over and set up and run the place. Go check it out. I think it's something you could do." Ya right Booby. I don't like thrift shops and i've never done anything like that. "You have lot's of retail experience so, just for fun, go over and check it out"
My dear angel must have told me several times over the period of several days of the opportunity across the street so just to get him off my back i went.
I was hired. The work was extensive and hard but i loved it. I loved the people, the experience of doing the design myself. The gig lasted 8 years and was fulfilling but physically taxing. My jewelry design work had slowed down along with my enthusiasm for pumping out the same designs over and over and over again.
Shortly after i moved in with my angel, he suggested i sign up for an apartment in Manhattan Plaza. I would be on a waiting list but it was a choice opportunity for anyone in the theater or living in the neighborhood as it was a government subsidised housing unit created specifically for the performing arts. %20 however, had to be rented to neighborhood, elderly, or handicapped. I would be considered neighborhood.
I balked again as i was only planning on being here for, three months, six months, one year, five years and on and on. Booby said "Ooh! just do it you never know". So i did. Time and life passed. 8 years i was on the list and renewing every year. Finally i was in, my apartment was ready.
After 30 years of no home of my own, i not only have my own place but i have a place fit for a queen--or at least an upwardly mobile serf!! At a price i can afford. My nest is on the 19th floor. My view is spectacular, my building well maintained and clean, my neighborhood exciting and busy and the transportation, for me, is right outside my door. There is a whole exciting world out there for me. I'm a little slower and and a little less mobile but i am in love with my life and all the wonderful people in it.
My years here have certainly been full of ups and downs. My angels have been many, my devils-few. Life is good.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Sexual Reassignment of "Funner".
Those who know me are aware of the obsession i've acquired for goldfish. It all started with the goldfish my former roommate gave me to care for, while he relocated. "Jonah" was a smart and long lived fish who ended up staying with me till his death a year or so later. I buried him in the quiet garden downstairs amongts the flowers.
I was given a small 10 gallon tank, also from my former roommate, and thus started on a goldfish adventure. I grew to love Jonah and enjoyed seeing him swim back and forth in the environment i created for him. Several weeks after his passing, i decided to get another fish, maybe two or three.
Since that time i've had several. My fish have survive from a few days to several years and in that time i have grieved their passing but quickly gained knowledge to help them survive longer with the help of the informed pet store staff . It's not as easy as it sounds. One 10 gallon tank can ideally sustain one gold fish. WHAT!!!! I wanted several different kinds swimming around. Well it doesn't work, as i've learned the hard way. My last purchase, several months ago, was for two fish which i named "Jo-an and Jackson"
Fish, like humans, have different personalities--some are smarter than others. At one point i purchased a "Fish Training Kit" Yes, fish can be trained just like other animals using food as the incentive. The kit sits in my cupboard, unused, except when i break it out to show people the cute miniature basketball net and soccer net with the appropriate balls to match. There is an instructional DVD included. I had big expectation but it still sits in the cupboard unused.
Jo-an was quick to pick up the idea of how to get the food. First a kiss on the finger, then the food. Jackson, however would wait for the food to sink, and therefore didn't have to work as hard. He was shy and i think Jo-an picked on him. That can be a problem as fish too can become a bullies.
I had been having problems with my filtering system. Goldfish put out a huge amount of ammonia in the form of waste. My one filter with a combo charcoal for goldfish, wasn't enough.
They became listless as i tried different remedies. One morning i woke up and found one of my fish belly up. Oh! shit. I hate when i loose a fish. They're goldfish for god's sake but again they are part of my home and i love them, and care for them, and they aren't suppose to die so quickly. Well, sometimes they do.
I quickly disposed of the fish. I scooped him up with the net, (I thought it was Jackson) with my eyes closed. The quiet garden was closed so, i'm sorry to say, the New York sewer system was the final resting place for my fish.
OK---I'm going to go get another filter so i now have two filters , and i'm just going to have one fish, Jo-an. (I thought). I must make the remaining fish comfortable and happy alone in a well cared for well filtered tank. Finally i'll use all that i have learned and see what happens.
Days pass and the remaining fish perks up--the new filtering system is working. However i'm noticing that the remaining fish is skittish and is shy about coming to the top of the tank to kiss my finger to get the food. DAMN. I think it is Jackson that survived instead of Jo-an. How could i not know.
Gold fish change color as they age and if they had any distinguishing marks while young, they seem to disappear with time. That happened to Jackson. He lost his black markings. I was lost. What do i do--i'm now not sure which of the fish survived. Jo-an was always the stronger and smarter fish. I thought she would be the one to survive--now i'm not sure.
While skyping with my daughter one day i was relaying my fish tale of woe. Since i didn't know really, which sex survived, it became clear to me that the fish needed a sexual reassignment, i just needed to declare the fish a female and call her "Funner". One problem remained----"Funner" was not living up to her name. She's slow to react and skittish and i'm not liking that. I was feeling sad that my fish was not as smart as i'd like. My darling, animal loving daughter said "Mom the fish can't help it---maybe she's mentally challenged" OMG, i now have a challenged fish that's had a sexual reassignment and i now can love and appreciate her for who she (or he) is. She is a little slow but after several months now she is coming up to the top of the tank to visit. Her home is pristine and she is exploring and thriving.
Goldfish have enriched my life. I love having them. I take good care of them, talk to them and redecorate for them, so they don't get bored with their surroundings. When someone says to me "Ann, you should get a cat". I say "Why--i have my sexually reassigned, mentally challenged, wonderful goldfish "Funner".
I was given a small 10 gallon tank, also from my former roommate, and thus started on a goldfish adventure. I grew to love Jonah and enjoyed seeing him swim back and forth in the environment i created for him. Several weeks after his passing, i decided to get another fish, maybe two or three.
Since that time i've had several. My fish have survive from a few days to several years and in that time i have grieved their passing but quickly gained knowledge to help them survive longer with the help of the informed pet store staff . It's not as easy as it sounds. One 10 gallon tank can ideally sustain one gold fish. WHAT!!!! I wanted several different kinds swimming around. Well it doesn't work, as i've learned the hard way. My last purchase, several months ago, was for two fish which i named "Jo-an and Jackson"
Fish, like humans, have different personalities--some are smarter than others. At one point i purchased a "Fish Training Kit" Yes, fish can be trained just like other animals using food as the incentive. The kit sits in my cupboard, unused, except when i break it out to show people the cute miniature basketball net and soccer net with the appropriate balls to match. There is an instructional DVD included. I had big expectation but it still sits in the cupboard unused.
Jo-an was quick to pick up the idea of how to get the food. First a kiss on the finger, then the food. Jackson, however would wait for the food to sink, and therefore didn't have to work as hard. He was shy and i think Jo-an picked on him. That can be a problem as fish too can become a bullies.
I had been having problems with my filtering system. Goldfish put out a huge amount of ammonia in the form of waste. My one filter with a combo charcoal for goldfish, wasn't enough.
They became listless as i tried different remedies. One morning i woke up and found one of my fish belly up. Oh! shit. I hate when i loose a fish. They're goldfish for god's sake but again they are part of my home and i love them, and care for them, and they aren't suppose to die so quickly. Well, sometimes they do.
I quickly disposed of the fish. I scooped him up with the net, (I thought it was Jackson) with my eyes closed. The quiet garden was closed so, i'm sorry to say, the New York sewer system was the final resting place for my fish.
OK---I'm going to go get another filter so i now have two filters , and i'm just going to have one fish, Jo-an. (I thought). I must make the remaining fish comfortable and happy alone in a well cared for well filtered tank. Finally i'll use all that i have learned and see what happens.
Days pass and the remaining fish perks up--the new filtering system is working. However i'm noticing that the remaining fish is skittish and is shy about coming to the top of the tank to kiss my finger to get the food. DAMN. I think it is Jackson that survived instead of Jo-an. How could i not know.
Gold fish change color as they age and if they had any distinguishing marks while young, they seem to disappear with time. That happened to Jackson. He lost his black markings. I was lost. What do i do--i'm now not sure which of the fish survived. Jo-an was always the stronger and smarter fish. I thought she would be the one to survive--now i'm not sure.
While skyping with my daughter one day i was relaying my fish tale of woe. Since i didn't know really, which sex survived, it became clear to me that the fish needed a sexual reassignment, i just needed to declare the fish a female and call her "Funner". One problem remained----"Funner" was not living up to her name. She's slow to react and skittish and i'm not liking that. I was feeling sad that my fish was not as smart as i'd like. My darling, animal loving daughter said "Mom the fish can't help it---maybe she's mentally challenged" OMG, i now have a challenged fish that's had a sexual reassignment and i now can love and appreciate her for who she (or he) is. She is a little slow but after several months now she is coming up to the top of the tank to visit. Her home is pristine and she is exploring and thriving.
Goldfish have enriched my life. I love having them. I take good care of them, talk to them and redecorate for them, so they don't get bored with their surroundings. When someone says to me "Ann, you should get a cat". I say "Why--i have my sexually reassigned, mentally challenged, wonderful goldfish "Funner".
Saturday, June 29, 2013
The Missing Grandma
My grandson had his first Chelsea art show last week. I had been looking forward to it forever. He was asked last year to participate and was somewhat hesitant because, like most artist and especially the deep down brilliant ones, he didn't trust himself. He did, however, accepted the invite.
I decided that i would get someone to go with me and so i asked several men friends but nothing worked out. My girlfriend moved to The Bronx with her boyfriend and so i know she couldn't come. OK so i'll go by myself. My dress decision was made and the bus route planned. The day arrived with hazy, hot, and humid weather. I was sick to my stomach and the body was aching. Mid morning i discovered one of my fish was belly up. I ended up texting my grandson and telling him i could not attend. I was scared to even try which i'm finding is one of the side effects when the body doesn't move as well as it use too and the age is in the higher digits.
For days after i felt so guilty that i didn't attend and also sad that i missed the fun. My grandson said the crowd was large. There was an after party and good time was had by all.
The other night i remembered how horrible the weather was the night i had a showing of one of my sculptures and some jewelry at a group show.. TMB came in the rain and wind and granted me the proud pleasure of a grandson's attendance. I know it was not easy for him to get there and i'm sure, as a then 15 year old, he had better things to do then go to his grandma's art show.
There will be other shows but this was the first big one and i am so sad that i didn't make it. I guess i could have cabbed there and caught the bus home. I didn't have to stay long--just make an appearance and celebrate this milestone with him. Sorry again T.
I decided that i would get someone to go with me and so i asked several men friends but nothing worked out. My girlfriend moved to The Bronx with her boyfriend and so i know she couldn't come. OK so i'll go by myself. My dress decision was made and the bus route planned. The day arrived with hazy, hot, and humid weather. I was sick to my stomach and the body was aching. Mid morning i discovered one of my fish was belly up. I ended up texting my grandson and telling him i could not attend. I was scared to even try which i'm finding is one of the side effects when the body doesn't move as well as it use too and the age is in the higher digits.
For days after i felt so guilty that i didn't attend and also sad that i missed the fun. My grandson said the crowd was large. There was an after party and good time was had by all.
The other night i remembered how horrible the weather was the night i had a showing of one of my sculptures and some jewelry at a group show.. TMB came in the rain and wind and granted me the proud pleasure of a grandson's attendance. I know it was not easy for him to get there and i'm sure, as a then 15 year old, he had better things to do then go to his grandma's art show.
There will be other shows but this was the first big one and i am so sad that i didn't make it. I guess i could have cabbed there and caught the bus home. I didn't have to stay long--just make an appearance and celebrate this milestone with him. Sorry again T.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Pet Peeve Du jour
The still occasional nagging want for a cigarette. The after breakfast, with my coffee, is the worst. It hasn't gone away even after all these years.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Indecision
In my next life i want to be a master metal worker and glass blower. The opposites of the two mediums is fascinating.
Because this past week and today for sure, is about self doubt and poor me, i decided to reinvent myself with a career i can aspire to in the unknown life after death. But why not do it now one asks. So much to do with so little time and i'm lazy.
Working with metal and glass was my love and then the muse left me and the writing muse took over. The writing muse is still on my shoulder but i am not paying attention to the disciplined process that writing requires.
I remember the out of body feeling when i was creating the jewelry. I would heat and bend the metal and combine the now hard medium with the colorful and clear glass blobs in intricate designs to be worn on the dress, or hat, or hung from the neck. While i was doing this long ago i didn't realize that my design were really good. People told me so but i didn't believe them. Now i see the inventiveness in what i was doing and the beauty too. Damn i wish i could have known that then. In my next life i will know it because i will have already learned that lesson---NO YOU SAY?
There is a lesson in there somewhere. Should i take that lesson and apply it to my writing? I'm loving the writing when i do it but boy can i find reasons to not do it. HELP ME MUSE!!!!!! COME TO ME!!!!!
Because this past week and today for sure, is about self doubt and poor me, i decided to reinvent myself with a career i can aspire to in the unknown life after death. But why not do it now one asks. So much to do with so little time and i'm lazy.
Working with metal and glass was my love and then the muse left me and the writing muse took over. The writing muse is still on my shoulder but i am not paying attention to the disciplined process that writing requires.
I remember the out of body feeling when i was creating the jewelry. I would heat and bend the metal and combine the now hard medium with the colorful and clear glass blobs in intricate designs to be worn on the dress, or hat, or hung from the neck. While i was doing this long ago i didn't realize that my design were really good. People told me so but i didn't believe them. Now i see the inventiveness in what i was doing and the beauty too. Damn i wish i could have known that then. In my next life i will know it because i will have already learned that lesson---NO YOU SAY?
There is a lesson in there somewhere. Should i take that lesson and apply it to my writing? I'm loving the writing when i do it but boy can i find reasons to not do it. HELP ME MUSE!!!!!! COME TO ME!!!!!
Debby Downer
Actually i should title the post "feel sorry for my self day". Yesterday was not a good day. My Guilt Free Sunday theme didn't work.
My sister and i have had a standing skype date on Sundays at a specific time and yesterday she forgot. My friend, who was suppose to be here for a movie and a pizza last Thursday, didn't show cuz she was "sick". For the next three days something always happened like bad weather, the furniture cleaner came and the vac broke, and she got stuck in Queens. Consequently my clean house, special salad and desert, movie, and excitement at seeing her after a great deal of time just went down the tubes. She never showed. Was soooo apologetic but still didn't show.
I know my sister really did get busy with school, after being in the hospital and missing work (she's a teacher and had to write final reports), needed to do some catch up stuff. Even so, how could she forget such a long standing date?
My friend, I don't know. Maybe she was really tied up in all the stuff she said. I even let her set the times. Or maybe i'm feeling correct she just didn't want to come visit and didn't know how to tell me no.
I have close friends but most of them are on the west coast. My few friends here are friends but not close friends. My one friend moved to The Bronx with her boyfriend and so we don't get together much any more.
Friends are important but it's hard for me to make friends, close friends. I'm particular who i let into my life. It's not been a good week actually. Woe is me. This too shall pass.
This morning though i got an unexpected email from a new friend i met at a dinner a few weeks ago. My cousin and she were classmates at the "Natural Foods Gourmet Institute". We clicked and she is now doing her internship in Texas and we are emailing each other. Nice.
Life is good and then you die.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Political Stuff
Oh man!!!! I find myself ranting and raving about Monsanto and like minded corporations on Facebook. It all of a sudden hit me that i have kept my head buried in the sand and figured the powers that be would not let that horrible corporation do the dirty deed of artificial food letting. GMO's
I'm not sure of all the technical stuff all i know is i have heard and read that the administration headed by President Borak Obama and the congress, passed a bill that is set in stone and will allow Monsanto and corporations like it, continue to buy up land all over the world and plant Genetically Modified Organisms. We are doomed!!!! May be i should say our future generations are doomed. I did hear that one country, Hungary, is burning all Monsanto crops.
The bees are dying, the birds are disappearing, animals and fish are dying mysterious deaths, and so what are our future generations going to have as food sources. I don't know the answer, all i know is i am disturbed and my normally complacent demeanor has been riled.
The other thing that bothers me is the rest of the world, yes the world, is up in arms and continues to protest the planting of crops. A demonstration was held last week involving the rest of the world--did we hear much about it, was it given much press other than a slight mention---NO.
I am an Obama person. I voted for him, i like him, i can excuse some of the criticisms against him, but i cannot forgive his passing of this recent legislation that is allows the planting of gmo products.
The world will not forgive either.
WHAT is going on and WHO is behind all this? It's certainly not just one man in one minute of time.
I'm not sure of all the technical stuff all i know is i have heard and read that the administration headed by President Borak Obama and the congress, passed a bill that is set in stone and will allow Monsanto and corporations like it, continue to buy up land all over the world and plant Genetically Modified Organisms. We are doomed!!!! May be i should say our future generations are doomed. I did hear that one country, Hungary, is burning all Monsanto crops.
The bees are dying, the birds are disappearing, animals and fish are dying mysterious deaths, and so what are our future generations going to have as food sources. I don't know the answer, all i know is i am disturbed and my normally complacent demeanor has been riled.
The other thing that bothers me is the rest of the world, yes the world, is up in arms and continues to protest the planting of crops. A demonstration was held last week involving the rest of the world--did we hear much about it, was it given much press other than a slight mention---NO.
I am an Obama person. I voted for him, i like him, i can excuse some of the criticisms against him, but i cannot forgive his passing of this recent legislation that is allows the planting of gmo products.
The world will not forgive either.
WHAT is going on and WHO is behind all this? It's certainly not just one man in one minute of time.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Last Dinner With My Cousin--At Least This Trip
Two topics of conversation are always discussed when ever two or more people gather to chew the fat at any time or any place in New York City. One is apartments---"Do you know of any cheap apartment for rent"? "Is your apartment under rent control". "I'm looking for a short lease--know of any?" "I saw a for sale sign for a place on 46th between Ninth and Tenth" Or the ultimate, "What do you pay and is it rent control".
The other topic, and one that happens in an apartment, during a party, on the street, in the ladies room, anywhere is "Where are we going to eat". "Do you know of any new place to try that's inexpensive" "Where's a cheep place to eat." "What kind of food do they have". The questions go on and on and sometimes start again even after seated, if the lighting or vibe or crowd doesn't look "right". Here we go---moved again.
My cousin has been here from California to attend the Natural Foods Culinary Institute. She's a California gal for sure, and she's a real trooper. She found a tiny apartment on the upper west side, for the duration of the four month curriculum. She got on the subway every morning, spent the day in school, came home on the subway, studied and then the next day started the routine all over again.
We hadn't seen each other for many years and although we are 20 or so years apart and knew each other when we were much younger, we celebrated our reunion with a great anticipation of spending time together and catching up. Ya right!!!!!
It's her last week and she's through with her testing and we decide to have a celebratory early last dinner before she left. I have been at the Institute a couple times, once for a beautifully prepared brunch and then again for a dinner put on by the group of students that included my cousin. Other then another time she was at my home we haven't had much time together
I arrive around 5 pm and finally see her temporary New York home which has been mostly already cleared out. She has to leave to go back to her home in Tahoe and fulfill her intern duties as part of the culinary degree. She has kindly filled a couple bags of kitchen things that she doesn't' need, for me to take home. She has also offered to go home on the bus with me to help carry, as they are heavy. No car!!!!!
We decide after much discussion, to try the place right on the corner that not only my daughter recommended but that is always busy and I'd heard good things about so it sounded like a good bet. The place is beautiful and even though they didn't have room out side we decided inside would be fine. We were ushered to a table way in the back right next to the restrooms. No way. The vibe was also off so we decided to leave.
OK now where do we go???? Sue checks her phone to see what might be recommended in the hood and we decide on another Italian place within walking distance. We were seated outside and the vibe was right and the menu looked reasonable enough so finally we had found our spot.
We decided to split three dishes--a salad--some pasta--and a steak. We placed our order and explained what we wanted to do. Cool! The delicious bread was served along with a faboo olive oil and we were ready to chow down. First came the salad with two plates. My cousin ordered and glass of wine and we began. The salad was quite tasty but before we were even finished the waiter took the salad away and immediately returned with both the pasta and the steak special. Woe! what happened why are we being served both at the same time and where were the extra plates. The pasta which looked delish was cold, the steak that we ordered medium rare was so well done there was no pink at all. This is not good. We called over the waiter and told him about the discrepancies in the meal. Both the salad removal too soon and the cold pasta and well done steak. OK-- the steak went back but was returned not more then five minute later. The meat had been cooked on one side turned over and with the cow still mooing sat heavily on the plate. Sue cut into it and it was more then blood rare. Yuk!!!----We need to see the manager. My diplomatic cousin was firm but polite and explained the situation and the manager listened and of course apologized several times. After many minutes of a discussion re culinary experiences and some mutual acquaintances on the west coast my cousin explained that she would gladly pay for the wine but that we would not be staying. He asked if he could make it right and we said no thank you. He then said "it's on me then" and we boogied out of there.
Now what do we do. We still have not eaten. OK, so we decide to go pick up my new treasures at Sue's place and grab a cab to my place down a mile or so to Hell's Kitchen where i live. There is a restaurant that i took Sue too when she first arrived and she and i both like the place so we go to my apartment, sit a spell, call, and they are full but if we wait a bit there will be room.
I just happened to mention my favorite place across the street Zuni's. Simple but good food and good atmosphere and great wait staff so Sue says, "that's where i want to go" So once again we go in search of food.
We hit the jackpot. The meal was fabulous and not only did we enjoy every bite, we were entertained by some darling girls from Germany who were eating after a concert given at another venue and chose to entertain the wait staff with a song as a thank you.
Our long and involved evening ended with the magic that only New York can provide. A fabulous meal with a lovely dear cousin and some unexpected music from some young German Frauleins.
So if you expect to visit our fair city anytime soon, be sure and brush up on apartment and food information. I guarantee the subject will come up. And if you're lucky you'll be able to share an unforgettable dining experience with a much beloved cousin and friend like i did.
The other topic, and one that happens in an apartment, during a party, on the street, in the ladies room, anywhere is "Where are we going to eat". "Do you know of any new place to try that's inexpensive" "Where's a cheep place to eat." "What kind of food do they have". The questions go on and on and sometimes start again even after seated, if the lighting or vibe or crowd doesn't look "right". Here we go---moved again.
My cousin has been here from California to attend the Natural Foods Culinary Institute. She's a California gal for sure, and she's a real trooper. She found a tiny apartment on the upper west side, for the duration of the four month curriculum. She got on the subway every morning, spent the day in school, came home on the subway, studied and then the next day started the routine all over again.
We hadn't seen each other for many years and although we are 20 or so years apart and knew each other when we were much younger, we celebrated our reunion with a great anticipation of spending time together and catching up. Ya right!!!!!
It's her last week and she's through with her testing and we decide to have a celebratory early last dinner before she left. I have been at the Institute a couple times, once for a beautifully prepared brunch and then again for a dinner put on by the group of students that included my cousin. Other then another time she was at my home we haven't had much time together
I arrive around 5 pm and finally see her temporary New York home which has been mostly already cleared out. She has to leave to go back to her home in Tahoe and fulfill her intern duties as part of the culinary degree. She has kindly filled a couple bags of kitchen things that she doesn't' need, for me to take home. She has also offered to go home on the bus with me to help carry, as they are heavy. No car!!!!!
We decide after much discussion, to try the place right on the corner that not only my daughter recommended but that is always busy and I'd heard good things about so it sounded like a good bet. The place is beautiful and even though they didn't have room out side we decided inside would be fine. We were ushered to a table way in the back right next to the restrooms. No way. The vibe was also off so we decided to leave.
OK now where do we go???? Sue checks her phone to see what might be recommended in the hood and we decide on another Italian place within walking distance. We were seated outside and the vibe was right and the menu looked reasonable enough so finally we had found our spot.
We decided to split three dishes--a salad--some pasta--and a steak. We placed our order and explained what we wanted to do. Cool! The delicious bread was served along with a faboo olive oil and we were ready to chow down. First came the salad with two plates. My cousin ordered and glass of wine and we began. The salad was quite tasty but before we were even finished the waiter took the salad away and immediately returned with both the pasta and the steak special. Woe! what happened why are we being served both at the same time and where were the extra plates. The pasta which looked delish was cold, the steak that we ordered medium rare was so well done there was no pink at all. This is not good. We called over the waiter and told him about the discrepancies in the meal. Both the salad removal too soon and the cold pasta and well done steak. OK-- the steak went back but was returned not more then five minute later. The meat had been cooked on one side turned over and with the cow still mooing sat heavily on the plate. Sue cut into it and it was more then blood rare. Yuk!!!----We need to see the manager. My diplomatic cousin was firm but polite and explained the situation and the manager listened and of course apologized several times. After many minutes of a discussion re culinary experiences and some mutual acquaintances on the west coast my cousin explained that she would gladly pay for the wine but that we would not be staying. He asked if he could make it right and we said no thank you. He then said "it's on me then" and we boogied out of there.
Now what do we do. We still have not eaten. OK, so we decide to go pick up my new treasures at Sue's place and grab a cab to my place down a mile or so to Hell's Kitchen where i live. There is a restaurant that i took Sue too when she first arrived and she and i both like the place so we go to my apartment, sit a spell, call, and they are full but if we wait a bit there will be room.
I just happened to mention my favorite place across the street Zuni's. Simple but good food and good atmosphere and great wait staff so Sue says, "that's where i want to go" So once again we go in search of food.
We hit the jackpot. The meal was fabulous and not only did we enjoy every bite, we were entertained by some darling girls from Germany who were eating after a concert given at another venue and chose to entertain the wait staff with a song as a thank you.
Our long and involved evening ended with the magic that only New York can provide. A fabulous meal with a lovely dear cousin and some unexpected music from some young German Frauleins.
So if you expect to visit our fair city anytime soon, be sure and brush up on apartment and food information. I guarantee the subject will come up. And if you're lucky you'll be able to share an unforgettable dining experience with a much beloved cousin and friend like i did.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
The Bonus Gift of School. My Mother
Interesting thoughts have invaded my mind since starting the short term writing class at Hunter. My mother has been on my mind. Quite fitting since tomorrow is Mother's Day.
My daughter told me recently that she senses her gramma Rita by my side through this new adventure. I was taken aback as my mom (Rita) and i were not close. Even after her death, i have not felt close to her. My pop is a different story. Daddy has been my guide in a very personal way since his death. He has seen me through some rough spots and guided my journey. I speak to him almost daily and he answers.
Mom tried i think, but her way and my way clashed for some reason. It was hard for her to express love. My siblings and i agree that mother was not as affectionate as dad. In fact she could be cold. I'm realizing she maybe didn't know how.
People loved my mother. I often heard, growing up, that she was the best nurse in the whole Rogue Valley. She was an RN who loved her job so much that she even volunteered at the nursing home for years and also would administer to the migrant workers, every summer, who came to pick pears. I never felt she neglected us, but i can't quite put my finger on my moms lack of warmth.
My writing class however, has awakened in me memories of my mom and writing. She loved to write and always had beautiful stationery and the perfect pen. She also had beautiful hand writing. She would often decorate my birthday cards and envelopes with lovely detailed artistic script like calligraphy only it was mom's version. I am sad to say that with all my moves, any cards that i had kept are gone. She always insisted on correct grammar and proper spelling. I do remember many times her pride in my writing papers that occasionally got A's or B's. The only A's i would really ever get.
My writing class, with the perfect instructor, has been such a gift in so many ways. I am learning new ways of construction and am hoping to be able to put them to use in my blog and maybe more. My daughters gift to me was a reminder of my mother. I notice a certain new feeling settling in that just might be my mother standing at my side.
"Move over pop, you have company".
My daughter told me recently that she senses her gramma Rita by my side through this new adventure. I was taken aback as my mom (Rita) and i were not close. Even after her death, i have not felt close to her. My pop is a different story. Daddy has been my guide in a very personal way since his death. He has seen me through some rough spots and guided my journey. I speak to him almost daily and he answers.
Mom tried i think, but her way and my way clashed for some reason. It was hard for her to express love. My siblings and i agree that mother was not as affectionate as dad. In fact she could be cold. I'm realizing she maybe didn't know how.
People loved my mother. I often heard, growing up, that she was the best nurse in the whole Rogue Valley. She was an RN who loved her job so much that she even volunteered at the nursing home for years and also would administer to the migrant workers, every summer, who came to pick pears. I never felt she neglected us, but i can't quite put my finger on my moms lack of warmth.
My writing class however, has awakened in me memories of my mom and writing. She loved to write and always had beautiful stationery and the perfect pen. She also had beautiful hand writing. She would often decorate my birthday cards and envelopes with lovely detailed artistic script like calligraphy only it was mom's version. I am sad to say that with all my moves, any cards that i had kept are gone. She always insisted on correct grammar and proper spelling. I do remember many times her pride in my writing papers that occasionally got A's or B's. The only A's i would really ever get.
My writing class, with the perfect instructor, has been such a gift in so many ways. I am learning new ways of construction and am hoping to be able to put them to use in my blog and maybe more. My daughters gift to me was a reminder of my mother. I notice a certain new feeling settling in that just might be my mother standing at my side.
"Move over pop, you have company".
Friday, April 19, 2013
Out and About
There are no locks on the outside nor inside of my apartment. I am free to come and go as i please. However a couple of my loving friends and more than a couple relatives have suggested maybe i should get out more and interact with people. Sooooo......
This morning i arnicaed my hands and shoulders, took my acetaminophen, inhaled my Combivent, grabbed my cane, and left. Two Harriet Doerr books and a beloved Laura Childs mystery are on the hold shelf, at the library, waiting for me.
The town is a mess. Police are on every corner, barricades are going up for the two "runs" scheduled for this weekend and the chatter is all about the state of the universe. I want escape.
The route on the bus to the library is always interesting and has been a source of entertainment for me since my arrival in this city. We ride through the middle of Times Square. Tourists abound and are usually fun to interact with and to help and assist if need be. The Chinese immigration building, (i don't know what it's called officially) is on the west side so the going home routine often includes a bus full of Chinese with their families, both little and big and young and old. Today was a day for me to enjoy being out in the world.
After picking up my books at the library, i stopped at BCBG MAX AZRIA. The clothes are fabulously designed and styled. I love seeing them. BCBG is high end, out of my price range and body type sizes, but i love it anyway. Usually when i enter i am ignored and really don't care. Today after seeing a particular styling technique in the window, I go in and am greeted and helped. My questions were answered, i was shown the elevator so i could go downstairs to explore more of the beautiful designs. My artists soul was satisfied in that store today. Sean Combs had a store too for a while that i would go too. I was always treated with respect. I often wish i had purchased a t-shirt or two. I loved his designs. It was a men's store but who cares.
I then make my way back to 42nd street, grab the bus, and after assisting a young family with a stroller and a baby and watching Times Square pass by, i am home.
The writing class starts in a couple weeks. There will be opportunities to be out and about with young and old alike. I'm excited, however meeting new people has always been difficult for me. I've never been comfortable with small talk. It's not that i'm not social. I'm not exactly sure why it is that i like alone time so much. I want to write. One can't be around people and write. It's a solitary activity.
I show up, do the best i can, one day at a time. I'll make more of an effort to interact. That's my new plan.
This morning i arnicaed my hands and shoulders, took my acetaminophen, inhaled my Combivent, grabbed my cane, and left. Two Harriet Doerr books and a beloved Laura Childs mystery are on the hold shelf, at the library, waiting for me.
The town is a mess. Police are on every corner, barricades are going up for the two "runs" scheduled for this weekend and the chatter is all about the state of the universe. I want escape.
The route on the bus to the library is always interesting and has been a source of entertainment for me since my arrival in this city. We ride through the middle of Times Square. Tourists abound and are usually fun to interact with and to help and assist if need be. The Chinese immigration building, (i don't know what it's called officially) is on the west side so the going home routine often includes a bus full of Chinese with their families, both little and big and young and old. Today was a day for me to enjoy being out in the world.
After picking up my books at the library, i stopped at BCBG MAX AZRIA. The clothes are fabulously designed and styled. I love seeing them. BCBG is high end, out of my price range and body type sizes, but i love it anyway. Usually when i enter i am ignored and really don't care. Today after seeing a particular styling technique in the window, I go in and am greeted and helped. My questions were answered, i was shown the elevator so i could go downstairs to explore more of the beautiful designs. My artists soul was satisfied in that store today. Sean Combs had a store too for a while that i would go too. I was always treated with respect. I often wish i had purchased a t-shirt or two. I loved his designs. It was a men's store but who cares.
I then make my way back to 42nd street, grab the bus, and after assisting a young family with a stroller and a baby and watching Times Square pass by, i am home.
The writing class starts in a couple weeks. There will be opportunities to be out and about with young and old alike. I'm excited, however meeting new people has always been difficult for me. I've never been comfortable with small talk. It's not that i'm not social. I'm not exactly sure why it is that i like alone time so much. I want to write. One can't be around people and write. It's a solitary activity.
I show up, do the best i can, one day at a time. I'll make more of an effort to interact. That's my new plan.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
The Point
The Daily News Sunday Funnies is my choice for bathroom reading material. Some of the current comic strips are a mystery to me--i don't understand them. It causes me embarrassment to admit that I'm not hip enough to under stand the abstract, but it's true.
However---Last week in, Between the Lines by Max Garcia, was a drawing of two pencils. One was a new #2 non sharpened pencil who's bubble held so much dialogue that i was tempted to skip read. "So i woke up this morning decided to check the weather,but then i remembered that Becky had told me that it was suppose to rain, so i just decided to brush my teeth instead of checking the weather. But before i did that, i decided to make some coffee, but.....
The second was a sharpened pencil who's only words in the bubble were "kill me" I got it.
On CBS Sunday Morning there was a tribute to the great Roger Ebert. "He always made his point" the reporter reported. He did indeed.
An aside piece in the Daily News Vue by Don Kaplan is titled "CNN misses 'The Point' ".
All of a sudden i realized my blog often doesn't make a definite point. The point being--i don't always make a point and that's the point. Lesson duly noted.
However---Last week in, Between the Lines by Max Garcia, was a drawing of two pencils. One was a new #2 non sharpened pencil who's bubble held so much dialogue that i was tempted to skip read. "So i woke up this morning decided to check the weather,but then i remembered that Becky had told me that it was suppose to rain, so i just decided to brush my teeth instead of checking the weather. But before i did that, i decided to make some coffee, but.....
The second was a sharpened pencil who's only words in the bubble were "kill me" I got it.
On CBS Sunday Morning there was a tribute to the great Roger Ebert. "He always made his point" the reporter reported. He did indeed.
An aside piece in the Daily News Vue by Don Kaplan is titled "CNN misses 'The Point' ".
All of a sudden i realized my blog often doesn't make a definite point. The point being--i don't always make a point and that's the point. Lesson duly noted.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
OMG Jo-an and Jackson
A little while ago i was sitting on my bed reading and i glanced up at the fish tank and oh dear! the two fishies were at the top gasping for air and i suddenly realized i had not changed the filter or the water for a couple months. I feed Jo-an and Jackson every day and periodically add water but i had just forgotten to attend to their living habitat for two or three months. It's a pain, and messy, and time consuming but i've never really minded up till just recently. I've been distracted.
They live in water but need oxygen and that's why i have pumps and filters. In fact i got an extra pump as i noticed several months ago that Jackson especially was up top most of the time, i think wanting air. I was out of the one filter type and needed to make a trip to the pet shop and haven't been in the mood.
I started to realize if i didn't get busy and change the water i would no longer have the pleasure of their company for much longer. I really love my fish. Never wanted a cat or a dog. I wanted fish.
I wonder if that's what it's like if you forget you have children. I've never forgotten i have children but i have been frustrated and tired of having to be the emotional support at times. I'm sure most parents get that feeling.
I attended to them when they were small and as they grew older they needed me less and less and i had to start letting go. But do we really ever let go. I think not. Life happens and we are called upon again and again to be a support and life line in their lives.
It seems to be a constant renewal of the love and affection given and received that we all need. My children need me and i need them. My fish need me and i need them. Sometimes we just forget their importance and give in to the day to day problems and distractions. Then we get back on point.
They live in water but need oxygen and that's why i have pumps and filters. In fact i got an extra pump as i noticed several months ago that Jackson especially was up top most of the time, i think wanting air. I was out of the one filter type and needed to make a trip to the pet shop and haven't been in the mood.
I started to realize if i didn't get busy and change the water i would no longer have the pleasure of their company for much longer. I really love my fish. Never wanted a cat or a dog. I wanted fish.
I wonder if that's what it's like if you forget you have children. I've never forgotten i have children but i have been frustrated and tired of having to be the emotional support at times. I'm sure most parents get that feeling.
I attended to them when they were small and as they grew older they needed me less and less and i had to start letting go. But do we really ever let go. I think not. Life happens and we are called upon again and again to be a support and life line in their lives.
It seems to be a constant renewal of the love and affection given and received that we all need. My children need me and i need them. My fish need me and i need them. Sometimes we just forget their importance and give in to the day to day problems and distractions. Then we get back on point.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Confessions of a Snob
The family i grew up in included myself, five brothers, and a sister who came along right before i flew the coup. Both parents worked to support us. We managed to eat, play, have presents at Christmas and birthday, have camping vacations, survive illnesses, strikes, hard times, and grow up to be healthy productive human beings.
We worked when we were old enough. The money i made working at a bar-b-que grill, and retail, and cleaning, bought me some clothing, shoes i wanted, and paid for some of the extra curricular activities at the Catholic school we all attended. The parish subsidized some of the tuition. My dad insisted we attend a Catholic school and not leave the system till we graduated. We all fulfilled my dad's wishes.
The snob in me came out the first time my mother made me a dress for the winter formal. More than anything i wanted a store bought beautiful gown like my friends. I knew we couldn't afford so i tried to be compliant when mom said she would make me one. I look back on those pictures of me in my dresses that mom made and realize just how incredibly talented and creative my mom was. I think i tried to be grateful to her but i feel, looking back, that i was pretty ungrateful. I'm embarrassed now.
One year the girls in my class were asked to model for a style show given by Bourlson's. THE store for designer clothes in Medford. I was a size 5-7 which would be maybe a 0 or 2 now. There was a navy blue beautiful dress with fabulous detail i modeled, that fit me perfectly. We would have a discount for the clothes we modeled but at $27 the dress was wayyyyyy beyond what i could afford. Wouldn't ya know that not two days later i saw J. O. walking around with MY dress on. For her it wasn't a special dress it was a casual everyday dress. Oh how i wanted that dress. My mom must have wished she could afford that dress for me.
I saved to buy a White Stag jacket and it was stolen I saved at one time in my life to buy a Coach handbag and it was stolen My want for the brand name items has not really worked out but it still doesn't mean i don't want them.
My priorities have shifted as i've aged. Maybe it's maturity or reality i don't know. Thrift stores (i managed one) are not my favorite places, neither are 99 cent stores or discount stores or Walmart or Kmart etc. I will shop in them but part of me is still the young girl who yearns for the brand name and upscale style to which i probably am better off not to have become accustomed too.
Mom and Dad did a pretty all right job with the brood. We turned out to be decent human beings and have contributed our share to the planet with fabulous children and grandchildren. I find myself wanting to be able to afford more for my kids and grand kid. I wish i could but i can't. I'm a happy, satisfied human today with a few twinges of regret at the attitude i sometimes showed to my parents. I think i was just born that way. Nature vs Nurture.
We worked when we were old enough. The money i made working at a bar-b-que grill, and retail, and cleaning, bought me some clothing, shoes i wanted, and paid for some of the extra curricular activities at the Catholic school we all attended. The parish subsidized some of the tuition. My dad insisted we attend a Catholic school and not leave the system till we graduated. We all fulfilled my dad's wishes.
The snob in me came out the first time my mother made me a dress for the winter formal. More than anything i wanted a store bought beautiful gown like my friends. I knew we couldn't afford so i tried to be compliant when mom said she would make me one. I look back on those pictures of me in my dresses that mom made and realize just how incredibly talented and creative my mom was. I think i tried to be grateful to her but i feel, looking back, that i was pretty ungrateful. I'm embarrassed now.
One year the girls in my class were asked to model for a style show given by Bourlson's. THE store for designer clothes in Medford. I was a size 5-7 which would be maybe a 0 or 2 now. There was a navy blue beautiful dress with fabulous detail i modeled, that fit me perfectly. We would have a discount for the clothes we modeled but at $27 the dress was wayyyyyy beyond what i could afford. Wouldn't ya know that not two days later i saw J. O. walking around with MY dress on. For her it wasn't a special dress it was a casual everyday dress. Oh how i wanted that dress. My mom must have wished she could afford that dress for me.
I saved to buy a White Stag jacket and it was stolen I saved at one time in my life to buy a Coach handbag and it was stolen My want for the brand name items has not really worked out but it still doesn't mean i don't want them.
My priorities have shifted as i've aged. Maybe it's maturity or reality i don't know. Thrift stores (i managed one) are not my favorite places, neither are 99 cent stores or discount stores or Walmart or Kmart etc. I will shop in them but part of me is still the young girl who yearns for the brand name and upscale style to which i probably am better off not to have become accustomed too.
Mom and Dad did a pretty all right job with the brood. We turned out to be decent human beings and have contributed our share to the planet with fabulous children and grandchildren. I find myself wanting to be able to afford more for my kids and grand kid. I wish i could but i can't. I'm a happy, satisfied human today with a few twinges of regret at the attitude i sometimes showed to my parents. I think i was just born that way. Nature vs Nurture.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Pet Peeve Du jour Lottery
For one person to win over 338 million dollars is a crime and a mortal sin. Morally reprehensible. The winner will undoubtedly spread the wealth around to his family and friends. That's not the point. That much money from a lottery at one time makes my skin crawl. And NO i would NOT want it.
PPDJ Pope jokes
The Vatican has gone through history making changed recently. Even though i agree changes need to be made and wrongs need to be righted i am getting sick in the heart at some of the totally inappropriate jokes being made at the pope's expense. We were not there. I don't totally trust the powers either. I do want to give at least the highest ranking cleric the benefit of the doubt that he will make appropriate changes. Maybe it's too late---i don't know--only the One that rules knows.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
From the Farm to the Big City
For several weeks I have been toying with the idea of taking a writing class. A free class is what I wanted but a free class doesn't get me what I want in order to accomplish my goal.
The time arrived this morning to head out and sign up for the class I decided I needed. I wanted to be comfortable and presentable. I felt dressed appropriately for the adventure. I felt good-- kinda hip and ready to tackle the college way.
It was pouring out so I felt immediately at home as I love bad weather and seem to thrive when I'm out . The bus was full. Most of the wet passengers were grumpy and scowling. I had done my research though and knew to transfer at Lincoln Center. The bus goes east across Central Park and emerges at Fifth Avenue then proceeds on Fifth then turns on Madison Avenue. Ta Da!!! A whole new world of want opens up. Store fronts full of up scale expensive merchandise, bright colorful windows filled with designer clothing and on and on and on.
I was born and raised in Medford, Oregon and wanted to be in New York City most of my life. I've been here now for 21 years so it's not like I'm new to this but today was different for some reason. I felt like a small town girl coming to the big city for the first time.
I live in Hell's Kitchen on the west side. I love my neighborhood and wouldn't change to the east side for anything. Traveling to the east side is a change of everything in this city. But i made it and was ready to tackle Hunter College.
OMG what a deal. As i was walking in the right direction finally, I glanced in the window and saw an older, overweight, some would say, eccentric looking women, looking back. Oh dear!!! Can I really pull this off. I'm here now so go for it. It turned out that my purple nails matched the school colors and was brought to my attention several times.
Kids, lots of kids. I'm stopped by security as I try to go through the gate. "Where are you going--you can't go in there". Oops!!
The kind security man points me in the right direction with explicit directions as to how to get to the east building after you take the escalator in the west building (which isn't working) get off on floor 3 and take the bridge across to the east building then take the elevator that's down the hall on the left, up to the 11th floor and on and on and on. OMG. After several stops and pleas for help I find what I need. It's lunch--doors are closed except for a few. I walk past several and finally stop at one in which sits a man who seems comfortably set to work. He greats me and asks if he can help. PLEASE. I explain why I'm here and plead old and poor. He informs me of the senior discount and suggested a couple classes and the free lectures. The class I have chosen to take was met with his approval and the instructor was given his praise. He was fabulous at making me feel welcomed and comfortable. Thank you Lewis!
People couldn't have been nicer. When registration for Continuing Education opened, I was greeted and helped and signed up for a writing class that fits my needs and pocketbook. Thank you Nora!
Getting out of the school was almost as bad as getting in. I'm direction challenged anyway but after finally getting on the right bus (yes i got on a bus going in the wrong direction) I arrived back in my beloved Hell's Kitchen proud of the fact that i am going back to school at age 71 to take a writing class. Stay tuned for the next Hunter College chapter as I go from farm girl to city girl in NYC.
The time arrived this morning to head out and sign up for the class I decided I needed. I wanted to be comfortable and presentable. I felt dressed appropriately for the adventure. I felt good-- kinda hip and ready to tackle the college way.
It was pouring out so I felt immediately at home as I love bad weather and seem to thrive when I'm out . The bus was full. Most of the wet passengers were grumpy and scowling. I had done my research though and knew to transfer at Lincoln Center. The bus goes east across Central Park and emerges at Fifth Avenue then proceeds on Fifth then turns on Madison Avenue. Ta Da!!! A whole new world of want opens up. Store fronts full of up scale expensive merchandise, bright colorful windows filled with designer clothing and on and on and on.
I was born and raised in Medford, Oregon and wanted to be in New York City most of my life. I've been here now for 21 years so it's not like I'm new to this but today was different for some reason. I felt like a small town girl coming to the big city for the first time.
I live in Hell's Kitchen on the west side. I love my neighborhood and wouldn't change to the east side for anything. Traveling to the east side is a change of everything in this city. But i made it and was ready to tackle Hunter College.
OMG what a deal. As i was walking in the right direction finally, I glanced in the window and saw an older, overweight, some would say, eccentric looking women, looking back. Oh dear!!! Can I really pull this off. I'm here now so go for it. It turned out that my purple nails matched the school colors and was brought to my attention several times.
Kids, lots of kids. I'm stopped by security as I try to go through the gate. "Where are you going--you can't go in there". Oops!!
The kind security man points me in the right direction with explicit directions as to how to get to the east building after you take the escalator in the west building (which isn't working) get off on floor 3 and take the bridge across to the east building then take the elevator that's down the hall on the left, up to the 11th floor and on and on and on. OMG. After several stops and pleas for help I find what I need. It's lunch--doors are closed except for a few. I walk past several and finally stop at one in which sits a man who seems comfortably set to work. He greats me and asks if he can help. PLEASE. I explain why I'm here and plead old and poor. He informs me of the senior discount and suggested a couple classes and the free lectures. The class I have chosen to take was met with his approval and the instructor was given his praise. He was fabulous at making me feel welcomed and comfortable. Thank you Lewis!
People couldn't have been nicer. When registration for Continuing Education opened, I was greeted and helped and signed up for a writing class that fits my needs and pocketbook. Thank you Nora!
Getting out of the school was almost as bad as getting in. I'm direction challenged anyway but after finally getting on the right bus (yes i got on a bus going in the wrong direction) I arrived back in my beloved Hell's Kitchen proud of the fact that i am going back to school at age 71 to take a writing class. Stay tuned for the next Hunter College chapter as I go from farm girl to city girl in NYC.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
PPDJ Bobble Head
Have you noticed how most of the beautiful women/girls in the beauty pageants, and the magazine and fashion models, all look alike. I know i'm older but i swear i can't tell some of them apart. I have also noted that more and more of the women in the public eye look like bobble heads Thin, thin bodies and big heads. All they need is a spring to connect the two. The horrible thing to me is that the men are beginning to look the same and for one who likes some meat on the bones of my men, it's a shame.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Back to school. What?????
In the next few days i want to make a trip to Hunter college, cross town, and sign up for a continuing education writing class. The decision has been long in the making. I am not interested in credit or a degree i just want to learn, or relearn, how to write using composition and correct construction. I am needing guidance and encouragement.
The blog is good for my brain and imagination. It is really a learning tool. Not many people read it so i have felt free to explore and just write. There is no one to criticize or correct with a big fat RED pencil. But hay--i'm no longer a young girl or women. I am proudly a women of a certain age who has lived and loved and made mistakes and had success and failure and I feel that now is the time for me to put my pen where my mouth is.
In the early 1990's i wrote a piece for a news letter called "I am Crazy" It was a personal account of a part of my life that was painful. Since then the road to here and now has been bumpy, and yet healing and rewarding. I want to expand on the piece and bring it up to date. The piece is timely and could be of help to someone maybe many.
So.......I said good buy to my fabulous therapist of many years and am ready to start on a new road. Time will tell.
In the mean time i'm blogging, and telling, and posting my Pet Peeve DeJour. Or PPDJ.
.
The blog is good for my brain and imagination. It is really a learning tool. Not many people read it so i have felt free to explore and just write. There is no one to criticize or correct with a big fat RED pencil. But hay--i'm no longer a young girl or women. I am proudly a women of a certain age who has lived and loved and made mistakes and had success and failure and I feel that now is the time for me to put my pen where my mouth is.
In the early 1990's i wrote a piece for a news letter called "I am Crazy" It was a personal account of a part of my life that was painful. Since then the road to here and now has been bumpy, and yet healing and rewarding. I want to expand on the piece and bring it up to date. The piece is timely and could be of help to someone maybe many.
So.......I said good buy to my fabulous therapist of many years and am ready to start on a new road. Time will tell.
In the mean time i'm blogging, and telling, and posting my Pet Peeve DeJour. Or PPDJ.
.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Big Black Two Story Blown Up Rat
My father was a union man. He believed in unions and supported them. If there was a union for RN's, i'm sure my mother was involved too. My sister is union and my brother and brother in law also. They are teachers. I myself have never been a member but have been a supporter for years.
The building i live in houses people from the performing arts. Many of them are union members. If it weren't for my co-habiters there would be few dancers, actors, musicians writers, directors, set designers, carpenters, etc. filling the stages of Broadway, off Broadway, cabarets and really any place in the world that entertains. They lift our spirits and keeps us alive and thriving.
Today i decided to return and pick up some books from the library. In this city that i live the unions are powerful. They built the city and keep in running. The current simbol for the picketing of non union jobs, is the huge ugly two story tall, blown up rat. We all HATE rats.
Imagine my surprise to see this thing right in front of my beloved building. One man is handing out fliers. I have read the flier and it makes sense. The non union workers repairing this building are being deprived of basic human rights. OK. I get it.
The men i watch from my 19th floor--the men repairing the exterior of the building--who have to go up and down 45 stories on a carriage, are non union workers. Daaa!! I think i know that. This is 2013 and we survive on the backs of immigrants some of them illegal. I'm sure some of the men risking their lives outside my building fall into that category. But they need jobs too, to feed and house their families, and the economy requires some businesses to hire non union at a cheaper wage. Yuk!
In this day and age how does one justify union vs non union. It should be easy right. But for me it's not. I'm hanging on just like most of the people i know. The people in my building are doing the same. They work hard. We have a well maintained, clean environment in which to live. Would we have that if the workers had to be union--I think not.
Ideally everyone working would have a fare wage, health insurance, a warm place to live, food on the table and love.
I find no definite answer for the problem. A women in the elevator said "what is happening to our world". Maybe the solution is starting from scratch again.
Does any one have the answer for guaranteed fairness in today's world??? God bless us all!!!
The building i live in houses people from the performing arts. Many of them are union members. If it weren't for my co-habiters there would be few dancers, actors, musicians writers, directors, set designers, carpenters, etc. filling the stages of Broadway, off Broadway, cabarets and really any place in the world that entertains. They lift our spirits and keeps us alive and thriving.
Today i decided to return and pick up some books from the library. In this city that i live the unions are powerful. They built the city and keep in running. The current simbol for the picketing of non union jobs, is the huge ugly two story tall, blown up rat. We all HATE rats.
Imagine my surprise to see this thing right in front of my beloved building. One man is handing out fliers. I have read the flier and it makes sense. The non union workers repairing this building are being deprived of basic human rights. OK. I get it.
The men i watch from my 19th floor--the men repairing the exterior of the building--who have to go up and down 45 stories on a carriage, are non union workers. Daaa!! I think i know that. This is 2013 and we survive on the backs of immigrants some of them illegal. I'm sure some of the men risking their lives outside my building fall into that category. But they need jobs too, to feed and house their families, and the economy requires some businesses to hire non union at a cheaper wage. Yuk!
In this day and age how does one justify union vs non union. It should be easy right. But for me it's not. I'm hanging on just like most of the people i know. The people in my building are doing the same. They work hard. We have a well maintained, clean environment in which to live. Would we have that if the workers had to be union--I think not.
Ideally everyone working would have a fare wage, health insurance, a warm place to live, food on the table and love.
I find no definite answer for the problem. A women in the elevator said "what is happening to our world". Maybe the solution is starting from scratch again.
Does any one have the answer for guaranteed fairness in today's world??? God bless us all!!!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
PPDJ fashion week
I love fashion week and would love to be able to see the shows live but...I see them streaming on fashion network. I HATE when the photographer chooses the close up of the models face instead of showing the head to toe. I watch because of the designs of the clothes not the model. Attractive models are a plus and an addition but i tune in to see the artistry of the clothes.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
PPDJ Invisible
As a women of a certain age i want to talk about being invisible.
When i leave my building with my daughter or someone younger and "more attractive", the security jumps all over me with kindness and courtesy When i am by myself--they hardly notice. More and more now, i notice my invisibility to people in service. Is it because i am rude or unkind to them---i certainly don't think i am and i have given this subject the time and energy of thought.
Not only the people in service but the general public see me as invisible. Could it be i am overly sensitive on this subject. Maybe. I think not.
When one slows down, looses looks, and maybe some grace, the general public sees us as not as able to participate in the games of life and existence. I am the invisible women of a certain age.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Super Bowl Sunday
Getting together with friends to celebrate the super bowl started for me in the early 80's. I loved to entertain and would do so with a party, food, drink, and fun. Depending on which one of two husbands, would be the "decider" on which friends attended. It really didn't matter cuz super bowl sunday was fun.
I grew up with 5 brothers and everyone of them played the sport. My brothers played all the sports but football was especially big in my town. I was a cheer leader in high school so i was kinda familiar with how the game was played.
Times have changed and super bowl celebrating along with it.
This year, my brother Chuck, in Medford Or, will hold the party. His beloved 49er will be competing with the Ravens. He's hoping the 49ers join the San Francisco Giants in yet another championship. Do I have that right Chuck?
We'll skype this afternoon and i'll see my nieces, nephews, brother and sister-in-law, my daughter, and her fiancee, and any new kids on the block. Little did i know yesterday when i went in for a hair cut and decided the gray is cool but, "bump it up a notch maria, with a purple streak please", that the purple would be a Raven's color. Can hardly wait to hear the response from my die hard 49er fan brother.
PPDJ
I hate color blocking on clothing. It gives me the squidgies. Only black, white and gray don't.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Pet Peeve Du jour
Three or four people walking side by side, down the sidewalks of New York city---or any where for that matter. Get outta the way!!!
Blog mix up
Don't know why or how to correct it but the blogging dates and posts have somehow gotten mixed up. Must be the blogging thief in the night. Please bare with me and check out the last few posts for the new. Evidently i am not the only one that is a work in progress. Come on "Blogger"
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Guilt Free Sunday
Therapy has been a part of my life since the early 80's. There was a bit of therapy having to do with my marriages before then but my real therapy started in the 80's.
Being born a women in the 40's, the middle child of a large catholic family, the only girl with 5 brothers till the age of 15 when my sister appeared, and a product of a twelve year catholic education, which my parents worked extremely hard to provide, I accumulated a lot of guilt for things that i was told were bad but which i did anyway. I was not even aware that the feelings inside for doing those venial things was called guilt till i was older. All i knew was the twisted feeling of a knot in my stomach.
Most of us have guilt at least to some extent. I don't believe we're born with it but that we're taught. Most of what we were taught, i'm sure, was with good intentions. To some, guilt can be a good thing--or that's what we're told.
The thought came to me at one particular point in therapy when i heard of guilt as a habit. OMG the light dawned. What if i practiced, for one minute, half hour, hour, or even a day, not having guilt. Okay lets try a day at a time. One day a week. I picked sunday as my guilt free day.
Before i knew it i could make a whole day of not feeling guilty. No more should's. Just live my day, and do, work, play, waste, rest, live and have no guilt. It took a while. Guilt still creeps in--but not as often and when it does i have to examine why it's there.
Some people might think that having to practice being not guilty is crazy thinking, but guilt is a habit, and i believe my guilt led me to some unhealthy habits in living and guilt was part of that pain.
My ritual of "guilt free sunday" (now a part of my everyday life) is my simple reminder of living a life of conscious actions out of love and humanity and not out of guilt. Most of the time it works.
Being born a women in the 40's, the middle child of a large catholic family, the only girl with 5 brothers till the age of 15 when my sister appeared, and a product of a twelve year catholic education, which my parents worked extremely hard to provide, I accumulated a lot of guilt for things that i was told were bad but which i did anyway. I was not even aware that the feelings inside for doing those venial things was called guilt till i was older. All i knew was the twisted feeling of a knot in my stomach.
Most of us have guilt at least to some extent. I don't believe we're born with it but that we're taught. Most of what we were taught, i'm sure, was with good intentions. To some, guilt can be a good thing--or that's what we're told.
The thought came to me at one particular point in therapy when i heard of guilt as a habit. OMG the light dawned. What if i practiced, for one minute, half hour, hour, or even a day, not having guilt. Okay lets try a day at a time. One day a week. I picked sunday as my guilt free day.
Before i knew it i could make a whole day of not feeling guilty. No more should's. Just live my day, and do, work, play, waste, rest, live and have no guilt. It took a while. Guilt still creeps in--but not as often and when it does i have to examine why it's there.
Some people might think that having to practice being not guilty is crazy thinking, but guilt is a habit, and i believe my guilt led me to some unhealthy habits in living and guilt was part of that pain.
My ritual of "guilt free sunday" (now a part of my everyday life) is my simple reminder of living a life of conscious actions out of love and humanity and not out of guilt. Most of the time it works.
The Joy of Skype
Skype is my joy and my connection to family and friends on the other side of the land. My daughter, my son, my sister, my brothers my nieces and nephews and friends speak to me live and in living color.
I remember not so long ago, the marvel of thought that maybe one day we would be able to see the person we were talking too but not quite believing that we would. "Ah come on!!! That's never going to happen. Who wants someone to see me looking like this when i answer the phone".
My daughter lived and worked just blocks from me here in hell's kitchen. I see and talk to her much more now that she lives over 3,000 miles away. She points the camera out the window so i can see her many bird feeders and the beautiful birds and nature she now has out her back door. I see my beloved Amber, her dog i held as a puppy on the day she came to join her family here in Manhattan. She is a west coast dog now. It took her some time to get use to her freedom of space but now i see her outdoors and having the time of her life with the critters that nose around her territory.
My son puts his phone on the dashboard of the car and i drive from Tucson to Phoenix with him while catching up on life's happenings. He has to secure the camera though or i get car sick. He keeps me up on what he is doing. I'm grateful for that.
My sister opened the sliding door of the weekend get-a-way she and Kirk stayed at while at the spectacular Oregon coast. I heard and saw the waves crashing on the rocky beach and the seagulls flying and circling overhead. I saw the sun set over the mighty Pacific. Plus i had the now weekly skype visit with my sis.
I love skype and highly recommend it to people who have friends and relatives in far away places. It won't replace a warm hug but it does come with no expectation and is the next best thing to being there.
Oh! by the way--I will join the family at the super bowl this sunday as they gather together at my brothers in Medford. I will be able to see and talk to each of my siblings and their spouses at the annual feburary birthday gathering held at my sisters in Coos Bay. One day i hope to be there in person but since i can't, we skype and i'm a happy camper.
I remember not so long ago, the marvel of thought that maybe one day we would be able to see the person we were talking too but not quite believing that we would. "Ah come on!!! That's never going to happen. Who wants someone to see me looking like this when i answer the phone".
My daughter lived and worked just blocks from me here in hell's kitchen. I see and talk to her much more now that she lives over 3,000 miles away. She points the camera out the window so i can see her many bird feeders and the beautiful birds and nature she now has out her back door. I see my beloved Amber, her dog i held as a puppy on the day she came to join her family here in Manhattan. She is a west coast dog now. It took her some time to get use to her freedom of space but now i see her outdoors and having the time of her life with the critters that nose around her territory.
My son puts his phone on the dashboard of the car and i drive from Tucson to Phoenix with him while catching up on life's happenings. He has to secure the camera though or i get car sick. He keeps me up on what he is doing. I'm grateful for that.
My sister opened the sliding door of the weekend get-a-way she and Kirk stayed at while at the spectacular Oregon coast. I heard and saw the waves crashing on the rocky beach and the seagulls flying and circling overhead. I saw the sun set over the mighty Pacific. Plus i had the now weekly skype visit with my sis.
I love skype and highly recommend it to people who have friends and relatives in far away places. It won't replace a warm hug but it does come with no expectation and is the next best thing to being there.
Oh! by the way--I will join the family at the super bowl this sunday as they gather together at my brothers in Medford. I will be able to see and talk to each of my siblings and their spouses at the annual feburary birthday gathering held at my sisters in Coos Bay. One day i hope to be there in person but since i can't, we skype and i'm a happy camper.
Pet Peeve DuJour
Weirdly folded, tissue thin, narrow napkins, that restaurants give out when they are cutting back or are close to folding. Might as well use toilet paper.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Conspiracy of the Universe
The netflix dvd's needed to be dropped off today in order for me to get replacement dvd's in a timely manner. While doing the deed i ran into a couple new friends i made at the senior coffee last week. I went because it was january birthday celebration day. Normally i only go on bingo days. Once a month is enough.
For many of the last 30 years i have been a loner. I believe i have been a loner most of my life. I grew up in a large family and had many friends while growing up. Some of those friends are still in my life to this day. My time alone is precious, maybe because of growing up in a big family. I love my family, but with so many of us there was little time to be alone.
As an artist, a discovery i made at 45, i guess it's not unreasonable to like time alone. The nature of creating and making a jewelry line and art, and writing my bits and pieces of life is kind of a solitary process. No matter how much i try though more and more people are invading my life. Is it a bad thing? I'm just questioning and wondering why my life and thinking is changing.
"Getting older is not for the faint of heart" someone famous said, and he/she was sssssooooo right!!! It also causes one to reflect on the past reasons for doing things or not doing things---living and being.
There is a snob in me. I don't want to be infirm and use a cane--i don't want to be a senior and be offered a seat on the bus because of my gray hair--I don't want to attend a coffee that's listed "senior coffee day", and the list could go on. Many of the reasons are stereotypical reasons having to do with getting older. WHAT ME!!!!! NO WAY!!!!!
All along i profess that age is just a number and has nothing to do with how i feel. Well for me it does have to do with how i feel. Reflect ann marie--the cake i had last night has sugar and gluten which i was told are bad for me and i did it any way. Shit. See, guilt creeps in like a thief in the night.
Back to the conspiracy of the universe.
The time has come for me to let people into my life. Serendipitous situations demand it. I still need tons of alone time but i also need people and conversation and fun. The universe has been good to me in providing me with a beautiful place to live in a city i love. There are trade off's as with everything in life but with my skype by my side and my growing curiosity blooming again i believe renewal has begun.
Thank you, God, Universe, Goddesses.
Just call me an ecumenical curious women of a certain age.
For many of the last 30 years i have been a loner. I believe i have been a loner most of my life. I grew up in a large family and had many friends while growing up. Some of those friends are still in my life to this day. My time alone is precious, maybe because of growing up in a big family. I love my family, but with so many of us there was little time to be alone.
As an artist, a discovery i made at 45, i guess it's not unreasonable to like time alone. The nature of creating and making a jewelry line and art, and writing my bits and pieces of life is kind of a solitary process. No matter how much i try though more and more people are invading my life. Is it a bad thing? I'm just questioning and wondering why my life and thinking is changing.
"Getting older is not for the faint of heart" someone famous said, and he/she was sssssooooo right!!! It also causes one to reflect on the past reasons for doing things or not doing things---living and being.
There is a snob in me. I don't want to be infirm and use a cane--i don't want to be a senior and be offered a seat on the bus because of my gray hair--I don't want to attend a coffee that's listed "senior coffee day", and the list could go on. Many of the reasons are stereotypical reasons having to do with getting older. WHAT ME!!!!! NO WAY!!!!!
All along i profess that age is just a number and has nothing to do with how i feel. Well for me it does have to do with how i feel. Reflect ann marie--the cake i had last night has sugar and gluten which i was told are bad for me and i did it any way. Shit. See, guilt creeps in like a thief in the night.
Back to the conspiracy of the universe.
The time has come for me to let people into my life. Serendipitous situations demand it. I still need tons of alone time but i also need people and conversation and fun. The universe has been good to me in providing me with a beautiful place to live in a city i love. There are trade off's as with everything in life but with my skype by my side and my growing curiosity blooming again i believe renewal has begun.
Thank you, God, Universe, Goddesses.
Just call me an ecumenical curious women of a certain age.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Resolve continued
At least i am posting. The problem is my ignorance of the machine i'm using. The language for the use of said machine is confusing.
I'm a button pusher and tend to go for it when i don't understand the directions--hence-lost writings. The important thing is to keep at it and along the way i'll find help and will persevere.
I'm a button pusher and tend to go for it when i don't understand the directions--hence-lost writings. The important thing is to keep at it and along the way i'll find help and will persevere.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
My Blogging Resolve
I just lost, into outer computer space, my first blog in a long time and i am pissed. If i knew more about this computer i would be able to find it, Instead i'll try and remember the brilliantly written (i'm sure) review of my decision to start posting again.
"I think it's time for me to cut the apron strings, ann". You've been off your meds for a few months now and you seem to be progressing nicely". OMG. Scary. My therapist is my savior. She has seen me though years of so much and now she wants to set me free? Oh my!
I came home to my fabulous apartment (my nest) on the 19th floor and burned some sage and meditated. I have been feeling a sense of renewal for the last few months and i wanted to celebrate that feeling in a special way.
I have been told, after expressing the sadness of it having been gone, that creativity lays fallow for a while and will appear again. I had my doubts. No doubts now. Not only the art of metal but the writing art also.
While a child, i belonged to the 4H clubs, and made many friends. Some are still my friends. One friend in particular has been in and out of my life in profound ways for many years. We are now email buddies. She in borrago springs, ca and me in new york city. We are opposites in many ways but our likenesses are the good things we cherish.
We email several times a day. We both enjoy writing and get to use each other to express what our lives are like in many different ways.
While emailing my friend i decided to try a new writing style. My writing teacher would have a fit as i ignore some writing and grammar rules. I might revise my style but i'm a work in progress and rules are meant to be challenged and sometimes broken.
I intend to pay attention to my long neglected blog.
"I think it's time for me to cut the apron strings, ann". You've been off your meds for a few months now and you seem to be progressing nicely". OMG. Scary. My therapist is my savior. She has seen me though years of so much and now she wants to set me free? Oh my!
I came home to my fabulous apartment (my nest) on the 19th floor and burned some sage and meditated. I have been feeling a sense of renewal for the last few months and i wanted to celebrate that feeling in a special way.
I have been told, after expressing the sadness of it having been gone, that creativity lays fallow for a while and will appear again. I had my doubts. No doubts now. Not only the art of metal but the writing art also.
While a child, i belonged to the 4H clubs, and made many friends. Some are still my friends. One friend in particular has been in and out of my life in profound ways for many years. We are now email buddies. She in borrago springs, ca and me in new york city. We are opposites in many ways but our likenesses are the good things we cherish.
We email several times a day. We both enjoy writing and get to use each other to express what our lives are like in many different ways.
While emailing my friend i decided to try a new writing style. My writing teacher would have a fit as i ignore some writing and grammar rules. I might revise my style but i'm a work in progress and rules are meant to be challenged and sometimes broken.
I intend to pay attention to my long neglected blog.
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