What a great weekend!

Friday Jan 27: Right after dinner, Rhiannon and I took off for Borders Bookstore. We love hanging there. We snag two comfy armchairs right next to each other, order up two hot drinks (usually chai) (a comment on their chai recipe: too much pepper), scour the store for interesting books then spend the rest of the evening reading. It's great. Right before we left, guess who called up? Joe. He wanted to come over and see Don, allegedly to show him the new interior he's put in his van, but I bet it was really 'cause he was out of pot and wanted to score some from my husband. I'm glad I wasn't there.

Saturday Jan 28: My birthday! To celebrate, I went shopping at Costco with the free pass they sent me in the mail. The included brochure neglected to mention that Costco only accepts cash, debit cards or American Express. I drove all the way out there, fond out my Visa card wasn't good enough, had to drive all the way back to my bank, then all the way back to Costco. I was pretty pissed but went to all that trouble because I had my heart set on shopping at Costco for my birthday. I bought a ton of stuff but don't think I'll get my own Costco card. I'll sponge off my Dad if I need to shop there again. After that, I took a friend and her kids to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, showing at a Cinema Savers near their house. The movie was much better the second time. I was able to see it as itself this time instead of constantly comparing it to the book like I did last time. I was even able to be less upset about Dumbledore. Emma Watson and Daniel Ratcliff are so cute! I love them both. Back at home, there was a present from Kendall waiting on my bed -- a little Faberge egg with a chocolate truffle inside. Don and Rhiannon made lemon poppyseed muffins, stuck them full of candles and sang me Happy Birthday. Don gave me a beautiful opal and white gold ring. I should stop being a bitch to him about what he cannot do (can't support the family, can't be a good dad) and just be nice about what he can. When the presents were opened, we settled down to watch "Sideways." I was amazed by the wine discussion. It illustrated to me once again the value of going deep within a subject, letting it move you and learning all about it. This mastery of subject is one of the things that makes life sparkle. I frequently spend Saturday evenings chatting with my buds at the Joseph Campbell Mythology Group. Couldn't today, though -- our router's down so I can't connect. A sad note: the Challenger disaster happened 20 years ago today.

Sunday Jan 29: Off to the gym for a session with the weights. I'm getting stronger, no doubt about it, but I'm not getting any slimmer. The waist and hips are just the same as when I started this program six weeks ago -- possibly because I'm having difficulty with the controlled caloric intake. I keep cheating. Afterwards I stopped at the cemetery to do some more comparison shots with different lenses. Then we were off to Dad's house for a family party. Ray, Maria and Tessa came with all their kids. The four of us had a rousing discussion about religion and morality. I say morality doesn't come from religion. They, being religious, have swallowed their church's teachings that sans God there is no morality. Fools. Don't they know that all, even sacred writings, even God, comes from within ourselves?

Goals for the New Year

Today's my birthday! As the clock of time ticks onward toward my death (a motivating thought) I ponder, what do I want to accomplish this coming year?

1) Master the art of conversation
2) Take good pictures
3) Become a good tarot reader
4) Increase web design skills
5) Pass Level 3 in ice skating
6) Get the ol' body in shape
7) Understand Ultimate Reality
8) Live by all of Charity's Laws

Rhiannon and the Army

Rhiannon, 20, has been toying with joining the military for more than a year now. She finds the thought of boot camp intriguing. Could she survive it? Dang that Rhiannon -- tell her about a challenge and of course she wants to try for herself. Plus there was that incident in AmeriCorps, when she so impressed her supervisors that one of them, an Army major, told her he'd write her a recommendation to West Point if she wanted to go there. She pondered that possibility for a while. It'd be great to get college free.

Now she's decided she wants to follow her love of languages and become a linguist. She's found that the Army runs a total language immersion college and she wants to go. The Army will pay for it all. She talked to a recruiter about it yesterday. (She expected them to be good at their jobs, she said, and boy where they ever. They made her feel very cared for. Of course, she's smart and funny with an hour-glass figure -- they probably couldn't help themselves.)

If she passes the linguist test, the odds are good that she'll sign on.

Dang.

I've been dreading this for years -- the day when she leaves for good. Being a camp counselor, joining AmeriCorps, running off with the Rainbow Family -- those were all temporary separations. Joining the Army is permanent. She'll be an adult when she gets out and she'll live somewhere else. I almost sank into depression but luckily my affirmations and the things I've learned in Religious Science came to my rescue. It's not bad that life changes. Even though Rhiannon's gone, things will continue to be bright. And interesting. And even exciting. Heck, it could be a good thing for all of us.

Michael Moore and his PhotoShopping ways

On MM's web site today, (www.michaelmoore.com) there are pics of Chris Matthews and Osama bin Laden, apparently the best of friends.

The pictures are both funny as heck and tremendously ironic.

They are a fantastic illustration of the way Michael Moore makes his movies. With these Matthews/bin Laden pictures, Moore took real photos, cut them up, pasted them together and ended up with a lie -- something fake made of something that originally was real.

In the same way, when he makes his movies he takes real video footage and interviews, cuts them up, pastes them together, and ends up with something that looks real but actually never happened -- a lie PhotoShopped from bits of truth.

Valentines

On Sunday, I packed up all my valentine fixings and went to my sister's to watch the game and make valentines with the kids. Tessa's troops (She's got ten. Really.) are always so excited when I show up. They run around like crazy yelling, "Aunt Daisy's here! Aunt Daisy's here!" Then, all talking at once, they tell me their news du jour. It's great for the self-esteem.

Well, I haven't made valentines since my daughter Michaela was in elementary school. We set up in the dining room and I set to, cranking out one work of art after another. I listened to the game with one ear (our team lost) but mostly I focused on valentines. I was a valentine-making dynamo. Doilies and hearts and glue and glitter everywhere. I left them all there, drying in rows on the piano. They were for the kids, not me. I can't wait to do it again.

Lace and Flowers

Today a co-worker told me she saw a blouse at an upscale department store that totally reminded her of me; said it would be perfect for me. It was all antique lace and flowers, with flowy sleeves and an old-fashioned bodice. Sounds lovely, yes? But this is exactly why I never wear that style -- because people think I'm lace and flowers even though I wear sports jackets over jeans and a t-shirt. I like to be feminine and graceful. As a matter of fact I make it a point to be. People are always so surprised when they find out I can shoot a rifle and ride a horse, but don't know anything about growing roses. They think I'm so delicate and girly. If I wore lace and flowers, I'd be a ridiculous caricature of myself.

The Power of Affirmations

I've been doing affirmations for a month or so now. The ones that have really worked for me so far are:

"I am beautiful." It's amazing how quickly this one has worked! Yea, I still have my same face, but I FEEL beautiful now. And people look at me like I am.

"I have many friends of all ages." This one has helped me to being open to all ages of people. Yes, I can be friends with people who aren't my age.

"There is abundant love for me in the universe." I just started this one. Two days ago I went to a cooking class full of people I don't know. I said this to myself whenever I felt the fear arise, and I was able to be open and friendly, instead of my usual scairdy-cat shyness. The others responded to me in a positive way. It was wonderful!

Don't Look Back

Make a decision then go forward. Do the best you can and don't look back. You can't live your life with regrets.

I say this to encourage myself to live this way. Sometimes it seems that all I've ever done is live my life with regrets. It's not working for me. I have to accept that I didn't say what I didn't say. I didn't do what I didn't do. Why look back now and wish I'd done different? It's all water under the bridge, as they say. I can only go forward from where I am.

Anniversary

I was cleaning out my closet and came upon Mom's old purse, the one she took to the hospital the day before she died. I keep thinking I'll give the purse to the Salvation Army but I never do. I keep it to remember what it was like to be at the hospital. I stayed awake all night with her in intensive care. My siblings had planned to, but when they fell asleep I didn't wake them up. My wakefulness was a gift I gave her. She died in the morning, and after an hour or so of grief and shock, we took her stuff and went home.

There is absolutely nothing like taking someone to the hospital and leaving next day with a bag of their stuff. I can't even describe it.

Mom died five years ago this month. Dad still takes it pretty hard.

If Only

Here's how I feel about Joe:

No matter if the sun don't shine
Or if the skies are blue
No matter what the end is
My life began with you.

From No Matter What by Boyzone

I'm Discouraged Today

I'm discouraged because I can't keep my body as beautiful as when I was younger -- I'm skinny all over except for my waist and hips. I'm discouraged because Joe loves me and I love him but we'll never be together. Because my kids are teens and I don't know how to parent them anymore. Because I can't really talk to my husband. Because I'm shy and scared of people and can't stop.

But you know what? Kendall gave me a floating orchid candle for my bath yesterday. She thought of me and bought me something. I'll think of that and be happy.

Why are poor people so fucking fat?

Who is paying for the huge quantities of food that they are consuming? It takes some doing to hit 250, but they are doing it. They can't stop shoveling food into their mouths.

Type 2 Diabetics are Idiots

The New York Times is running a series on the country's diabetes 'epidemic' as though it were a real disease. It's a sickness caused entirely by the individual's behavior, and these people are idiots. Here are some quotes from people afflicted with the condition:

Mr. De La Vega nodded. "We love eating trash," he said. "We grew up eating McDonald's, and I still find myself eating candy and chocolate cake." People got huffy about their doctors. "Mine tells me, 'Lose weight, exercise more,' " Ms. Matos said. "Let him live my life and see." Mr. Rivera said: "You know what I think? I think there's a cure. We're the poor, so they don't want to give it to us." "Listen, if I want to eat a piece of cake, I'm going to eat it," Elsie Matos said. "No doctor can tell me what to eat. I'm going to eat it, because I'm hungry. We got too much to worry about. We got to worry about tomorrow. We got to worry about the rent. We got to worry about our jobs. I'm not going to worry about a piece of cake."

Why not stop with the doughnuts and fried calories and eat salads, drink diet soda?

James De La Vega laughed. "We've got cultural differences," he said. "Here, for a guy to eat a salad, he's a wimp. He'll eat a big portion of rice and beans and chicken. The women can't be chumps, either. A woman can eat a salad but has to eat it on the low. She has to do it quiet. They make fun of you: What are you, a rabbit?" Mr. De La Vega said: "Nobody here goes out and gets an apple. They get cake. People here associate diet as unhealthy. If you're dieting, then you're sick. You look at the people on the streets, they're heavy. That's the way we grow up here."

Me again: These people are idiots. Why should I pay for their health care? I'll only agree to that if I can dictate their diet and lifestyle.

Dreams

I went to bed late last night, slept soundly, dreamed good dreams of visiting with my sister then woke suddenly before the alarm, filled with dread, as though there were something important I had not done, or some important decision I had made wrong.

More sleep, more dreams, these ones of driving with Joe in his van, then stopping to make out in a tangle of arms and legs and blankets. Joe had the face of my husband, though.

FanFic Parody

A friend wrote this mockery of fan fic, to make fun of the idiots she runs into.

Starbringer59: i am liek hawt n standin in teh gardnn. hello i sayz ur hawt leggy wanna cybre plzkthx.
Mississippienne: Then Legolas slaps her, once and very hard. Then he walks away.
Starbringer59: leggy slpas me n i m rely sade n start cryin leggy why u slaped me n he cums back n hugs me n crys im so sorrie plz forgv me n i do.
Starbringer59: than leggy n i get maried n gangulf n teh elf kinge (sorre i forgit hiz nam) cum n tehy mak us teh king n quenn off teh hol midle earht.
Starbringer59: leggy n i rul good ovre teh land n we hav mane kidz. i have triplts harry pottre hermone potter n giny poter, n tehy grow up n nede r help 2 fite teh dark lorde voldimort n we fite him until he diez.
Starbringer59: kan u rate my fanfic?! plzkthx but dont rate if ur gona say bad stuf cuz ill droun my kiten iff u do.

Oh the Pain

Woke up this morning with muscles aching from my workout yesterday. I'm in week three of the Six-Week Fat to Muscle Makeover. (See book of that name on Amazon.) Week three adds a couple more weight routines. It's the arm one that killing me, weakling that I am.

The program is working great so far. I've been able to increase the weights almost every time I go, and even though I've cheated on the prescribed diet, I've lost four pounds. I'm back in my regular jeans (hooray!) and by the time I'm done I'll be back in my skinny jeans.

I saw a lady at the gym yesterday whose body was a bad example, a terrible warning of what my body could become -- is becoming -- if I don't get in shape. She was slender all over and even had a lovely small waist, but her ass was massive. It was completely out of proportion to the rest of her. She probably has a desk job just like I do. She sits all day, like I do, and any extra calories go straight to her hips.

The Julie/Julia Project

Julie Powell. A blogger has hit the big time. Totally cool and good for her! Her story: shel felt stuck in a nothing job with a life going nowhere, so she started cooking. She set herself the task of working through Julia Child's "The Art of French Cooking" in one year. That means she's making two or more recipes a day. That's a lot of kitchen time. She blogged about it, talked abou what it was like to kill a lobster and search for unusual ingredients. A loyal readership gathered round who encouraged her, bought her groceries, didn't let her give up. The story ended happily with a new book ("Julie and Julia") and a new career for her (she's now a food writer for I-don't-know-who). I'm proud of her.

The Julie/Julia Project

Hope

I'm not sure if my hope will ever see the blog.
But just knowing that it is out there makes me happy.
Someone read it on it's journey, someone saw.