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Showing posts from November, 2014

All We Ever Do

You know what I want to talk about with you? Everything. The thoughts we have and then the metathoughts. I'd like to talk about who we were and who we are becoming. I'd like to get tangential, and follow the tangents down the rabbit holes. I'd like to talk about discoveries, about lessons, about people. I'd like to talk about why we exist. I'd like to talk about the rest of our lives. I'd like to talk about funny things- the nonsense stuff that brings out the deep, spontaneous belly laughs. (I'd like to do that often) I'd like to banter and chit-chat. I'd like to have a difference of opinion. I'd like to discuss the world and travels. I'd like to change my mind.  I'd like to change yours, too. I'd like to unveil, unravel, unearth, I'd like the past to undo, I'd like to be the one who uplifts you. Guess what cover I found on Youtube this morning over coffee and Lollaloopsy?

Slow Dancing

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I am grateful for these morning minutes to blog and journal and tidy the home I love so much. I am grateful for my healthy family.  I don't come from money or inheritance or even good luck, but I am grateful I come from hard work and hard-learned lessons and good health.  I am grateful that today my mom is well and my husband and daughter have everything they need.  I am grateful for my friends. Oh, Lord, what would I do without the women who make me laugh until I cry, the ladies with whom I talk at length and with brutal honesty with about our kids, our jobs, men and what we dream about, hope for, plan for, what ails us and what fails us? I am grateful for history- 24 years of friendship.  This girl I sat next to in chorus at Imperial Jr. High.  Our teacher, Mr. Beckman, wore a toupee that waved wildly with each baritone crescendo in class as he waved his wand. Is it called a wand when referring to music? Whatever it is called he waved it with such v

Happy Birthday, J-Bird

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I love celebrating birthdays.  And J-Bird's is always one of the best to celebrate each year. We huddled, giggled, confessed and candidly spoke on all the things women talk about after too many wine flights.

Foiled

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I knew it woul be difficult. I knew it would be different. But I didn't know how difficult or different it would be.  I sat, woefully, but with a postive attitude hoping that my next relationship would be as fulfilling as the last. But like many first "dates", this one is starting off uneasy.  I sit in the hairdressers chair I have sat in many times before.  The current monthy edition of Bazaar magazine graces my lap but I am too sad to even open it. My color may come out lovely enough, but I can't stop missing my girl, Gina. I knew Gina was leaving me.  Or... Her job anyway. And as she told me in late September she was leaving the job because she was getting married I desperately wanted to ask, with great bitterness "what is this, 1940?" But I held my tongue the way I do when I am sad and angry and taking something personal all at once.  And I smiled and I did my best to look excited for her as I asked for the all the details of her sudden engagement.  I wa

Something Special

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I have this hard and fast rule that no technology is allowed in bed or bedrooms. Though. I am not immune to hypocrisy, especially on Wednesday nights when Lloyd's at the arena playing soccer on his wining team and my partner and I are left to our own devices.  I love time in bed with my daughter. We have the most random conversations where everything (already) happened "next weekend".  You follow?  She calls me sweetheart or sugar or whatever other term of endearment she picked up from me. She will ask me to watch her YouTube shows "let's watch something special..." with love for Russian and British cartoons (strictly her choice believe it or not!)  And we'll snack and she'll fold laundry and I'll make a huge mess by tossing all my toys out of my toy box and then she'll remind me to be tidy and I'll be like, "but I can't find my panda...." She must really struggle with my ability to make a w