Saturday, December 30, 2006

More weekend disparity.

When I log into my blogging account now there is a choice given to log into New Blogger or Old Blogger- somehow, my perception of the phrasing leaves me feeling like a ferret in a dustbin when I choice 'Old', and I picture the decrepit lady with the apple in Snow White; the gnarled, ashen skin and stringy silver hair.




Do you sense the bliss the first moment your body succumbs to the structurally supportive cotton candy welcome of bed and your skeletal muscles begin to liquefy. Do you sigh and stretch and moan out loud in the sensual glory of oozing across the sheets?



As a woman I came with special powers. I can go to bed a B-cup and wake up a size C. I can spend all Monday hoping my rings don't fall right off my fingers yet be unable to squash them onto my sausage stumps Tuesday morning. I can grow clean out of my pants over night.
Seeing me you would not call me fat. Seeing myself I am mildly disgusted. My body is morphing out of my control- I am fattening up like a pasture pony at the hay buffet. It is partly lifestyle. I am still on my feet for 8 or 9 hours every day at work, but no longer racing around after busy residents. Unlike in Maine, it is not entirely feasible here to do my grocery shopping on foot- that is, shoulder my backpack and canvas bags and hoof the two miles each way on a safe sidewalk.
Unable to find a local school or barn I am no longer taking Tae Kwon Do or riding horses. 97% of the group classes at my gym occur during my working hours.
And with nine months of celibate singledom under my (accidental chastity) belt, I am no longer 'on top' several times a week!
And my thighs are staging a coup.
They must be stopped!!!

Sunday, December 24, 2006

:) :) :) :-P

Who says I don't get any exercise sitting at the computer for hours? Why every time a piece of candy falls on the floor, I need to bend over and search under the chair and table!
Thank you to:

the used kitty litter I dumped from on high for all going into the plastic bag.

the teen-aged (read as: several years younger than me) grocery store employee who refrained from scolding me when I literally climbed two shelves right next to him to get my box of Raw Sugar.

the gentlemen who hold the door open for me, and who graciously pass through first when I hold the door open for them.

my pajamas for making my body feel like pockets of heaven.

my kitties for being squishably adorable.

Needing to Spew

Everyone has his or her own set of beliefs about the human's place in this world- mine has me damn fucking pissed.
I visited nationalgeographic.com this morning , awed to see photos of the giant squid- albeit feeling badly for the smaller squid used to lure her and slightly awkward that she was ill led. Still, all appeared fine until I read the captioned paragraph and learned she had "put up quite a fight" about being taken onto the boat, and in the process had been killed. Chalk one up for science, huh? Screw that!
Students are discovering a way to turn cow dung into useable energy- Wonderful! Until I read that the bovine providers are kept inside for eight months to provide the poop.
Can we do nothing without destroying other living creatures?

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Bad for horses



















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Attach a note
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Send me a copy
of this as well

Premarin

Approximately 20,000 mares per year are used to produce Premarin (Pregnant Mare’s Urine) and the Premarin family of products, which include Prempro, Prempak-C and Premphase. These hormone replacement drugs are used to treat menopausal symptoms in women. Harvested for their urine, the horses suffer terribly for the production of this drug. They are kept continually pregnant in stalls too small for them to even turn around in order for their urine to be collected by filthy, bulky tubing attached to their bodies. When they can no longer reproduce quickly they are sent to the slaughterhouse. Their meat is then sold for human consumption or dog food.

Approximately 11 million women take Premarin each year, making it the number one hormone replacement therapy drug in the world. Together with the six million women who use Prempro, the two drugs had combined sales of $2.1 billion in 2003.


A Premarin foal hoisted for slaughter
Photo Courtesy: Horse Aid


Mare with a urine collection
device strapped to her body

Living Conditions
At pregnant mare urine farms –- found in Canada and North Dakota -- mares in their third or fourth month of pregnancy are placed alone in narrow stalls. They are fitted with a short rope or chain, a harness, and a urine collection bag which scrapes their legs, causing sores. As a result of these restrictive devices, the mares are made virtually immobile. They can take only a step or two in any direction and are unable to turn around or lie down comfortably.
Because farmers find sufficient bedding costly and bothersome to clean, the animals frequently have no protection from the cold concrete floor. Moreover, farmers restrict the amount of water given to the mares because water dilutes the concentration of their urine, making it less profitable. Their food supply is similarly inadequate, and they do not receive sufficient veterinary care. Most mares are never removed from the stall and allowed to graze. Deprived of exercise, they cannot utilize their natural athleticism and sociability, kick up their heels, stretch their muscles, or flex their joints.

Reproduction
The vast majority of Premarin mares give birth to a foal every year. Afterwards, they are almost immediately impregnated again. If they fail to become pregnant, they are sent to slaughter. If they do become pregnant again, their foals are taken from them at the premature age of just three to four months. Most mares naturally resist separation from their babies so they are often whipped, kicked, or beaten with an electric prod until they finally allow their foal to be taken.

Foal carcass at a slaughterhouse

Foals
Some foals are killed immediately after birth. A few of the females will be raised to be "Premarin mares" and join the production line. Most will be sold and sent to feedlots to be fattened for slaughter, then transported by trailer to slaughterhouses and killed. Their meat will be shipped off to Japan, France, or other parts of Asia and Europe for human consumption.

Transportation
Like other "food animals," mares and foals are typically deprived of food and water during transport to the slaughterhouse. They do not have an opportunity to rest, nor do they receive veterinary care. Instead, they are crammed onto trailers so crowded that the smaller ones, particularly the foals, are sometimes crushed under larger animals. Those that are too weak to stand will literally be dragged off of the truck along with the animals that have died en route.

Corporate Greed
Thousands of horses suffer to produce Premarin even though several humane estrogen replacement therapies exist (see below under “What You Can Do” for alternatives). Why don't Premarin manufacturers switch to a cruelty-free alternative? Because they say it would cost them more money.

The Law
Animal cruelty laws and government regulations do not apply to the treatment of mares on Premarin farms. Instead, the standard of care is dictated only by an inadequate “code” which is poorly enforced. Thus the horses receive virtually no legal protection.

Health Problems Common to Mares Used in Premarin Production


Overgrown hooves

• Dehydration
• Hoof injuries
• Leg injuries, sores, and lacerations
• Swollen joints
• Edema
• Liver disorders
• Kidney disorders
• Premature death

VIDEO CLIPS of our Undercover Premarin Investigation

Premarin Investigation Videos
High Bandwidth
Warning: These Videos are Graphic in nature
Click Title to Play Video

Pee Barns Auctions Foals to Slaughter Feed Lots
Slaughterhouse/
Corrals
Butchering/
Transport
Lagoons

Premarin Investigation Videos
Low Bandwidth
Warning: These Videos are Graphic in nature
Click Title to Play Video

Pee Barns Auctions Foals to Slaughter Feed Lots
Slaughterhouse/
Corrals
Butchering/
Transport
Lagoons

What You Can Do:

  • Make the Switch
    If you currently take Premarin, Prempak-C, or Premphase, ask your doctor about equally effective synthetic or plant-based alternatives, including Cenestin, Estratab, Estraderm, Estrace or Ortho-Est.

  • Make Some Noise

    Contact Robert Essner, president and CEO of Wyeth-Ayerst, the maker of Premarin. Demand Wyeth produce a more humane product!

    Robert Essner
    Chairman, President and Chief Executive Officer
    Wyeth
    5 Giralda Farms Madison, N.J. 07940-0874
    Phone: (973) 660-5000
    Fax: (973) 660-7026

    CLICK HERE for a sample letter.
    However, keep in mind that personalized letters carry more weight.

    Please send a copy of the letter to LCA's Campaigns Department at our mailing address, fax, or via email at Campaigns@LCAnimal.org

    Write a letter to your local newspaper about the cruelty of Premarin production, and the safe alternatives available to women.

    Educate others about the suffering inherent in Premarin production.

  • Go Vegan
    A healthy vegan diet can reduce menopausal symptoms, especially those diets supplemented by soy products containing plant-based estrogens.

For More Information:

  • June 2005 – the International Agency for Research on Cancer, the U.N.’s cancer research agency, has reclassified Prempro from “possibly carcinogenic” to “carcinogenic.” CLICK HERE to read more.

  • The Women’s Health Initiative has done numerous studies on the health impacts of Premarin products. These studies have revealed the negative health risks associated with these drugs and the danger they pose to women's health. CLICK HERE to view the Women's Health Initiative studies.

  • CLICK HERE to download LCA's "Know the Facts About Premarin Production" leaflet.

  • CLICK HERE to view LCA’s Special Investigations Unit’s comprehensive investigative report of Premarin production in Canada.

  • LCA Claims Victory for 40,000 Horses. CLICK HERE for more information.


Premarin

LIFESAVERS WILD HORSE RESCUE

The Heartbreak of Premarin Farms

Premarin is a drug whose name originates from a key ingredient, pregnant mare's urine. It is prescribed to alleviate the symptoms of menopause by substituting equine estrogens for those naturally produced by the human body.

According to 2000 statistics, there are approximetley 450 farms in Canada and 50 farms in the U.S., located in North Dakota, Minnesota, and Indiana with approximately 60,000 mares.

Pregnant mares used for Premarin production are confined to narrow tie stalls where they cannot turn or lie down for weeks at a time without release for exercise. This chronic lack of exercise can cause severe swelling of the legs, breakdown of the hoof structure and sets the stage for colic. They are harnessed to urine collection bags six months a year. The mares may be kept in pregnant for production for 8 to 9 years. At the end of their use, they are sent to slaughter.

60,000 grade foals, the by-products of this industry, have almost no chance to find homes as sport horses, working horses or pets. The majority will become casualties of slaughter. At two to five months old, the foals will be taken from their mothers and sent to auctions where they will ultimately end up in the slaughterhouse.

Each September, several rescue groups unite to purchase PMU foals from the auctions and from the pmu farms to save them from a horrible death. Lifesavers is working to raise funds to rescue another group of foals this year. The meat packers are paying more than ever for horsemeat due to the threat of Mad Cow Disease as well as Hoof and Mouth Disease infecting beef cattle, sheep and other livestock overseas. The prices have nearly doubled in one year, making it very difficult to raise enough money to rescue, house, vet care and transport the foals from Canada and the northern states.

The cost of saving each individual foal is more than $800. Many of the foals are draft breeds, although some of the PMU farms are now breeding their big mares with more popular breeds such as quarter horses and paints.

Lifesavers will help pay for the purchase, vet and transport of as many foals as possible this year. Once rescued and safely in the U.S., Lifesavers will have the foals delivered to our ranch and will find loving homes for these babies.

Our first two Premarin foal rescues are Dually and Diesel who will stay as Lifesavers ranch mascots to help educate visitors of the Heartbreak of Premarin Farms.

If you are a woman being prescribed "Premarin" which is manufactured by Wyeth-Ayerst as an estrogen replacement ask your doctor about synthetic alternatives such as:

Cenestin by Duramed, Climara by Berlex, Estrace by Mead/Johnson, Estratab by Solvay, Ogen by Upjohn, Ortho-Est by Ortho-Mcneil, Provera by Upjohn, Estinyl by Sherin, Estradrem by Ciba. All of these products are made from plant materials such as soy, yams and other vegetable sources.

The only way we can stop this atrocious treatment of mares and foals is to squelch the demand for the product. Please do not use any product made from Pregnant Mares Urine. The synthetic alternatives are safe, reliable and very effective. Most importantly there are no animals suffering from its production.

The above information was comprised from brochures printed and distributed by the ASPCA, United Animal Nations, and other various animal welfare websites and publications.

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Sunday, December 10, 2006

a little Aricept please

After my shower today I had to recall my birth year, and count up...
because I forgot how friggin' old I am. 32, 32, 32... . For 5 months now.
And stuck on 31.
This is not the first or even the second time since July this has happened.

Dear Fellow Drivers,

Item 1: Random Braking
Please do not step on your brake pedal at intervals of 5 to 15 seconds when there is no change to the traffic in front of you or in your direction plans because when you suddenly brake for a good reason I think you are just faking again; plus this repetitive braking makes me want to poke your eyes out and step on your head and in general ruins my mood. If you are unable to work the gas pedal without losing control of it, stay home or pull over and get the hell out of my way.

Item 2: The light panels on your car
Newsflash: When it is sunset, or overcast, or raining, and you are driving a gray/black/brown/dark blue automobile, it is really freaking hard to see you when you don't have your lights on- I will be happy to help jump you or call AAA if you forget to turn them off and your battery dies. I will be unhappy to pick you out of my grill, or vice versa, if we collide because you blend into the freaking dark.
P.S. The blinking panels on the sides of the headlight areas are not holiday lights reserved for Christmas time- they are turn signals, to be used BEFORE you turn; slamming on your brakes and then turning on your blinker is not first choice, but acceptable as a last alternative.

Item 3: Tractor Trailers
Changing lanes into the path of a 65 mph oncoming tractor trailer within 10 car lengths, and particularly within- ahem- ONE car length, is death wish; Knock it off.
If you must get in front of a truck leave at least one car length for every 10mph of speed you have accumulated- otherwise there is a darn good chance the truck driver will jackknife trying to brake in order to save your stupid heinie.

Item 4: Motorcycle riders
Are human beings who don't want to be smooshed under your tires. Stay off their asses and don't pull out in front of them. They are wearing leather, you are wearing a car.

Item 5: Police cars
If you are driving within the designated speed limit and you see a police car, there is no need to slam on your brakes. There is also no need to drop 10mph below the speed limit. The speed limit on the signs is not an April Fool's joke.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

more odds and ends

I just hit the 'run program' on our thermostat, and the heat kicked on, and I thought, 'What the hell is the program anyway?'
I just had the urge to photograph my laundry basket; or rather my empty basked and pile of clothes on the bed: the sideways basket, the fabric softened jumble of clean pastels appeared a cotton comfort cornucopia.
I feel an immediate kinship toward anyone else whose spine convulses at the first note, or mention, of, "The hills are alive with the sound of music... ." There was much Nutcracker, Sound of Music, Wizard of Oz, and Charlie and The Chocolate Factory in my childhood. I am maxed, done, overloaded. The only sound I want alive in my hills is squirrels and chipmunks rooting through the underbrush, thank you. Keep Julie Andrews the heck on up outta my camp site.
Peaches, onions, and tuna compliment one another in a green salad.

the meltdown of the melting pot

If Keith Ellison undertakes an oath on his Koran, rather than the Bible, will Christian churches everywhere begin to crumble brick by brick?
Does the country have it s Constitution in a bigger twist over this than it did over our rights to privacy being infringed upon?
I think I sorely misunderstood "Separation of Church and State" in elementary school. The Catholic Church has quite an effective voice in how this country is run.
When violence performed in the name of protecting the Koran is listed, I wonder if all the violence done in the name of the Bible has been neatly tucked aside in the hopes of 'out of sight, out of mind'. Or perhaps if the violence was done to protect 'Your' religious beliefs, then it is acceptable?

Besides, I would hold greater faith in an oath Ellison swears on the Koran than in any he takes on the Bible. What retribution can he fear if he swears on a book that holds nothing over him?

unrelated

I find your blog, dive in mouth open lungs unplugged rolling every word around my tongue and swallowing up your life. Your rib cage is spread, your secrets undefended. I feel like a spy and then I feel entrusted.


It giggles me up inside when my lover makes an excuse with his face and secretly smells my hair.


The real event would infuriate me and draw tears, but walk up to me and say;
"Kick the dog down the stairs and beat it with a stick."
and I will laugh.
What phrases or terms make you laugh every time?

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Nice to meet you all over again

Recently reacquainted with an old schoolmate and crush-target I watch his face in amazement. Sometimes it seems the thirteen year old boy opens his mouth and a man tumbles out. The creases around his eyes fascinate me with a tenderness my own will never elicit. His chest hair nearly made me giggle.
What a wonder it is you all grown up sporting that beard!

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

love this song

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1469122187">Bruce Springsteen - I'm On Fire

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Asking for a favor

There has been another factor in all this:
a friend of mine was injured recently in the war; he is still overseas having difficulty fighting internal infections and could use some extra good wishes and prayers. Thank you :)

The Longest Trip I Never Took

And in the end, after the cleansing cries and the soul searching, the heart to heart talks, the hypothetical circumstances reassured to the maximum, I did not fly to Washington because:
because I realized while emailing my emergency contact list that I have many friends who have proved they would drop everything and find a way to rescue me anywhere, any time.

because I hadn't even left for the airport yet and friends, family, and coworkers are already worrying about my traveling, about my safety in Washington, about my return; a coworker who has known me only six months said,"You have my number; if anything happens, anything at all, call me and I will figure out something."

because my friends and family welcomed my emotionally shocked self back from Maine open armed, cleaned me up, set me back on my feet, and never uttered one peep about the inconveniences I know were caused by my return and by me cancelling my wedding three months before the date.

because they have held my hand, taken my every distraught phone call, waded through my suicidal thoughts in late spring and my withdrawl from them all summer to contemplate executing said thoughts, and still drove 1 to 3 hours to celebrate my birthday with me.

because even though they were all worried about me flying to Washington, they still offered their support wanting me to be happy.

because it would be extremely selfish of me to cause them more worry, or to consider moving far away on them again the same year I ran home to them;

and I feel happily responsible about that.

It is 3AM and I have some unpacking to do. Maybe even sleep.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Finishing what I started...

Last night I finally broke down; the sobbing, the laughing, the covering my head and wanting to punch something forcefully; the 'thank goodness I have shriveled up unused wet-wipes in the car because if I don't blow my nose my head is going to explode and what will I use to clean that up?
Sometimes grief feels to me like a well dug in my center- apparently I haven't finished grieving for Nate and I, nor dealt with all of the guilt. The good news is I am getting closer to excavating the bottom.
Last May,I asked a great friend of mine to allow me one full year-or until April 2007- to whine about leaving my fiance. She felt that was more than fair. One year's permission to grieve granted.
However, I have not yet ever given myself that long. I am impatient. I want the pain over because it was so severe at first I feared living it for any longer; because I have feared never recovering from this, never again being capable of sustaining a relationship.
A few times since I've felt ready to date. Although each experience has moved me a little further along, each has also been unsuccessful- I go along gloriously until... and I can't go farther.
This year have been full of self-medicating platitudes: don't look back, just look ahead; life goes on, whether you like it or not; life is messy; time heals all wounds. There is a 1970's (?) song I like to hear that although most unrelated to caucasian heartbreak does help carry me along when I need that little extra something-

Ooh, Child, things are gonna' get easier,
Ooh Child things'll get brighter

Monday, November 27, 2006

The things I am trying to learn

(addendum to insanity)

I am still finding my way and I am going to have helloes and goodbyes in the process.
I am going to get hurt, and I am going to cause hurt.
I am going to keep making mistakes, and sometimes I will be someone else's mistake.
It is okay to be scared.
It is okay to have limits.
It is okay to change from what I always thought I was to what I thought I would never be- it is okay to want to sink roots.
I may need to give up what I want to have what I want.
I do want to be a parent.

Psst: I'm Insane

(AKA Giving myself headaches again, AKA Neal was right; if I don't change how I am, I will be alone forever; AKA Why is this shit so hard for me to do and why does it keep getting harder every time?)

It should be a simple decision: fly to WA or don't.
A. I promised to go and it isn't acceptable to break plans.
B. It would be great to meet this person I've been speaking with for two months.

For lots of people this decision would be simple.
For me, every single romantic decision any more leaves me feeling twisted and nauseous and wondering if I am truly mentally ill.

For me, the decision has become:
A. It isn't nice to break plans.
a. He will be disappointed but will understand.
1. I will still berate myself for being an evil, no good, down and dirty dog for cancelling plans.
B. I don't want to lead him on.
b. He has been forewarned.
1. I will have a very difficult time following through if I want to walk away after seeing him.
C. I am afraid to fly so far away.
c. People fly on planes every day.
1. Is it my gut telling me not to fly or am I just being a wuss?
2. I used to be so adventurous, now I'm a stick in the mud.
3. I could use an adventure and some new sights.
4 I have plenty to take care of here like finding a second job, getting back in shape, getting some groceries in the cupboard come pay day.
5. I feel guilty leaving my cats for several days (oh boy-)
D. I have a friend in the army who is now in the ICU in Germany and if he comes back to the states I want/ need to be here. (he has strongly expressed his need for my current support.
d. He has let me down in the past, but I've let him down too.
1. In the end I'd rather be here for him now and risk being without later, than not be there for him so I can get something for me now.
2. I would want and need to check for email from him while visiting in WA and that doesn't seem fair to WA.
E. I still hurt for leaving my ex- I still miss him.
e. The pain is gradually less and less and it is harder to get to now and much less violent, really not violent at all anymore, when I get there; but deep down I still actively hurt.


F. I think I need a glass of wine and a therapeutic SCREAM.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Ahh.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Of beans and men...

Last month on one of my meandering beach walks I made a mental discovery (half my marbles have been missing for years- it wasn't that; if you find a stray marble please mail it to... . I think I just discovered the source of all those lone, used screws strewn along the sides of any road... .)
Refocusing-
In the seven full years I have successfully been out of my mother's house, this is the very first time I have been 'un-boyfriended'. At the age of 32 this is my very first time living as a single adult.
Hmm.
Your thoughts?

My soup making that dropped the cabbage in my sleeve also made a pot of Yum!~
(unlike chum and scum and... I bet Dr Seuss never ended a sentence with Yum.)
One bag of soup mix beans
One head of cabbage chopped into 1.5in pieces all over the counter (be sure to tuck some in your sweater for a bedtime snack)
One very large Vidalia onion, strong enough to roll the tears, chopped into your bite size preference
2 lbs baby carrots-each carrot cut in thirds (I'm usually too lazy now to peel carrots)
4 to 6 tablespoons of natural peanut butter
all the fresh garlic I had in the drawer, sliced very thin
sea salt and ground black peppercorns to taste
For medium, I prefer water or Emeril's Organic Vegetable Broth

I made mine vegetarian, but I bet bacon or ham would be good in here!

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Chia Head

I have been growing out my hair again. Remember my super-hero wish to have that doll arm that when flexed at the shoulder grew my hair ultra-long in under seven arm pumps?
Umm, hasn't come true yet so still growin' out the hair- the good news is my shag long ago reached out-of-the-eyes-in-a-barrette length. And the top-most stuff is getting long enough to reach the bottom-most stuff: seyonora, mullett days!
I peeked in the bathroom mirror quite recently to tell myself, Your hair dried looking pretty nice today- It would look even nicer if you brushed it.

I opened my top dresser drawer to get ye olde hairbrush; when I lifted my arm to reach in for it, a hunk of cabbage fell out of my rolled up sweater sleeve.
Don't fear- I am not saving vegetables in my sleeves the way your grandmother (both mine did, anyway) saves tissues like she is going to get the world's worst nosebleed ever the very second that world runs out of Kleenex.
I made soup today- It's so recently 'done', the apartment windows are still fogged.
Making soup meant whining that I had to cut the baby carrots in pieces (that lazy), being impressed the onion was strong enough to shoot tears down my cheeks, and teeny bits of chopped cabbage all over the counter- and apparently in my sleeves.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Sing a Tale of Turkey

A very happy, healthy, warm, and safe day of Thanksgiving to everyone!

May your lives be each touched today by some nugget of love, joy, inner peace, whatever you hope to find.

(that was meant to be published Thanksgiving morning,but I was late getting ready, rushing out the door---)

In retrospect, how was your day of Thanksgiving? Tell me your favorite part!

Sometimes my favorite part of a holiday spent with loved ones is simply soaking it all in, leaning back and watching my late-in-life cousins and my cousins' children chase one another through the house and yard so intent on their imagined adventures, simultaneously appreciating their individuality while imagining that is how it was when my peer-group cousins and I were that young, and my aunts and uncles and parents our ages;
missing our grandparents, blessed and enriched by the addition of cousins' spouses and babies;
aunts reminiscing the years when their adult children were small, uncles full of tryptophan and red wine still falling asleep on the couch;
enjoying the ability to know my aunts and uncles adult-to-adult and old enough to know they have wisdom to impart.

Happy holiday season to you~!

Before I go today, I want to share one more thing:
At 3:30AM this after-Thanksgiving morning, as I read blogs like bedtime stories preparing to tuck myself in for the night, I stumbled onto a link at 'mom on a wire'-

A link to http://ashesandsnow.org/


In that near-sleep state of opened-soul, with headphones on in a sleeping house, my soul was re-energized, my core of peace and dreams enlivened.
Very recently in watching my younger sister, I've begun to remember the energy I once had, the dreams and drive to find my truest place and fix the world; and began to wonder what happened to my plans, began to see how unbeknownst to myself I am settling into blind comfort.
Thank you mom on a wire for sharing this- Inspiration is an understatement.

Go, look, listen; Experience.

Monday, November 20, 2006

I 've been Poison'ed

Strolling my slippered feet onto the bathroom tile several minutes ago, I quietly sung, "UN- Ski-knee Bop-BOP!"
And stopped dead to quietly sing, "What the F**k?"

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

quietly missing Nate

Perhaps it is something in the November air, or simply the first November we have been apart since before we came together.
Last night I found myself unexpectedly transported to our old apartment, our home.
I know it was winter because I welcomed the heated air that wrapped itself around my body as I stepped into the kitchen from outdoors, and it was night- the lights were all on inside; this is also how I knew he was home.
I called Hello loudly down to the living room and he instantly rose from his chair and came out to greet me with a hug, ask me how my day had been- more than twice my size, his warm body wrapped me up entirely.

Retrieving things from my storage units I have opened boxes containing the smell of that home, the smell that will never be exactly created anywhere else ever. At first it was painful, grinding my self-made loss in deeper; now that the pain has become something smaller and gentler and part of me, I sink my nose into those sheets and clothes and bath towels- bury my face and do my best to breathe up every last molecule.

Sometimes, when we are emotionally strong enough, it is nice to visit these places we will never ever get to be any more.

Ass attack

I slipped into my workout pants a half hour ago. Yes my body was quite shocked! Did you buy us new pants? it asked. I don't remember ever wearing these before.
To which I said, Oh just shut up!
And then I said, Why does my new underwear suddenly feel so snug on my butt? It fit fine two days ago!
I don't get my period, ever, but I get some of the other stuff like gaining nine pounds over night, like needing a box of Kleenex and a hug to get through a grass seed commercial- and I am really hoping my butt is answering the call of the end of the month.
Because a girl who cut back on the sugar in her Light Soy Milk coffee, doesn't eat dinner any more, and stopped her cookie treats altogether should not be growing out of her underpants!
If it isn't the hormones after all I'll blame it on the wall squats- my glutes are just getting bigger!
But that doesn't explain my top set of cheeks looking chubbier now does it?
Damn!

Friday, November 03, 2006

Fat raindrop, deep pond

It ended in the same place it began, in the place she hired me, in the place where I met her son: where I confessed my crush one Saturday when I'd been called into work and there he was picking up his sister who was then but a sophomore in high school; and there in the whirlpool room that cold November morning he asked me to the movies that night and gave me a hug. Around the corner, one Thursday morning nearly three years later, I surprised his mother with my engagement ring- nearly as much a surprise to me. I had known for two years I wanted to marry him, but then there it was. I told my mother by calling to say, I am engaged, I think, whilst staring at the ring on my finger with incredulity and disbelief.
And we were off and running; engagement changes life in ways I wouldn't ever have known without being there.

In that same building, three months before our wedding, three days after we'd supped at her home, and three before she was to dine at ours, she found out I was gone- No wedding, no shower to throw, no family coming from Belgium; no mother of the groom, no in-laws to be gained; no rehearsal dinner, no photographs for the hall.
I knew as cold feet grew that leaving would cause great upheavals, would create a giant mess, but it is only now I am beginning to comprehend the ripples of my decision.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Sweet tired

Tonight I am the tired with the constant weight of a yawn in the back of my throat; the tired with so warm they nearly itch eyelid edges; cheeks feeling weighty, gravity too heavy on me tonight; and my body knows the bed will take it tonight the way a tub of maple syrup accepts a lump of pancake- soaked down, down, down into enveloping velvety warmth.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Gotta grow me some fur.

Holy Hanna BarBera and big men in little tights- first I'm whiny cause it's 70 degrees in November, then I'm covered in goose bumples and "Brrr..."-ing all over the apartment because the heat is too expensive to turn on and I'm wearing only one sweatsuit!

P.S. I wish someone would bring me a steaming plate piled high with buttered and syruped blueberry pancakes! Does IHOP deliver? Shouldn't they? For a bribe?

I am not surprised.




You Are the Swedish Chef



"Bork! Bork! Bork!"

Your happy and energetic - with borderline manic tendencies.

No one really gets you. And frankly, you don't even get you.

But, you sure can whip up a great chocolate mousse

Friday, October 27, 2006

Karen's Confessions #12

I love raw batter and dough- which means running my finger along the inside rim of the pancake batter bowl, repeatedly, and licking it off througout the pancake making process- then doing the same with the ladle and the almost empty bowl when the last pancake-worthy batter has been dumped into the pan.
It means saving one or two uncooked specimens from every container of Pillsbury tube biscuits, for eating cold and squishy and gloriously tongue-bitingly yeasty while the rest go about their merry cooking.
It means sneaking back-end pinches off risen bread dough, so chewy between my teeth before sacrificing the loaf to the oven.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Autumn Cleaning

Well I have deleted a few of my previous posts, and turned others from published back into drafts- sometimes I throw out old journals, crumple and toss therapeutic letters I wrote never to send;
so here I occasionally toss away what I no longer wish to see.
I do truly apologize if this should inconvenience any one, as I do have readers who are kind enough to not only read but even enjoy my writing week after week and I am so glad you keep coming!

an evening's walk

It gave me goose pimples walking the boards when the horizon was purple, the dunes rustling East, and the church bells chiming off 6 '0' clock.


I looked up to find dust bunny clouds on top soaking up the color of raspberry popsicles from the spill of a good-bye sun and the shyest slice of northern moon barely making itself known.

Monday, October 23, 2006

11/02/02

When there was nothing but the sky and the silhouettes of you and I
I remember the dark and the jagged pine branches along the horizon ,more stars than ever I'd seen and puffing our breath out misty into the cold where it floated and died absorbed into the night. And it was only us in the cold in the black with the stars over our heads and our voices that wandered and faltered and fell silent again heads turned up as we cuddled the very first time.
Just you and me and your breath on my face

Friday, October 20, 2006

Say Satisfaction

The wind whipped up this afternoon after the sun came out- sitting in the car in my scrubs facing West at a red light on my journey home from another day's work I smiled with pleasure at the breezes coming forcefully through the driver side window cooling my face and ruffling my hair; looked straight up and smiled again at the macrovisible speed of the clouds- cumulus? never got that quite straight- across the sky somehow against the wind.
It certainly all changed the tempertature in the apartment. At 7PM I closed all the windows, stood my goose-pimpled, white fingered body under shower water so undeniably hot it sent sparkles of shiver from my scalp down my spine.
And I grinned some more.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

A little estrogen goes a long way.

I am terribly cranky today.
Dropping the bag of recyclables into the bin whose top edge meets my chin, I tipped the bag too far toward gravity spilling empty glass and plastic containers into my face. I mostly behaved- the previously-mayonnaise jar clanged satisfactorily after being whipped top speed at the bottom of the dumpster; I did not wing it at the asphalt though I craved the sound and impact of shattered glass.
My driver side door lock finally turned under the key, after I kicked the side panel while my three canvas bags and 25 pounds of groceries worked at sliding off my shoulders.
Groaned at work when the 3PM showed up at 3:45 and all my nauseous tummy wanted was to go home two hours ago.
Just plain grouchy today- Princess Irritable. Wherefore art thou, Prince Valium.
I am blaming it on normal monthly hormonal cycling. Some months I weep over Anderson windows, others I restrain myself from putting my foot down hard on the accelerator and annihalating the elderly woman who took the right of way cutting me off on the traffic circle then, once on the circle afore me, stepped on her brakes and- Stopped. In front of me. In the middle of the circle. At rush hour. As traffic rushed up behind me. I behaved myself and though my teeth were grinding satisfied my homicidal urges with two toots on the horn.
I don't menstruate without a uterus, but it is the third week of the month, and my boobs are snugly filling up my bra, sweet chocolate is unsufferingly calling to me for the third day in a row (I nearly went out in my pajamas in the rain at 11PM last night on a Hershey's quest), I had a headache today, and yes the urge to strangle basically everyone, unwarranted or not, is strong.
I'm blaming it on the hormones.

Ode to a Charlie Brown kind of dog

Get Fuzzy by Darby Conley

Your Daily Get Fuzzy
http://www.comics.com/comics/getfuzzy/archive/getfuzzy-20061017.html
http://www.comics.com/comics/getfuzzy/archive/getfuzzy-20061018.html

Get Fuzzy is one of my sweet addictions. Though it has lately waned some in the giggle soliciting factor, I still read it religiously. I adore these little cartoon guys and I never know when an entry is going to crack my grin wide open.
I have nearly all the books, except for the anthologies- because, I have all the books. Some were gifts, one of them a Christmas present from Harold who so patiently and lovingly answered my pleas of "Hey (Harold), Come 'ere!" and left what he was doing on the computer over and over on single nights just to stand at my bedside and read yet one more Get Fuzzy cartoon that had me in stitches. I devoured each book in a matter of hours, unable and unwilling to put it down even though it meant staying up past my self-appointed bedtime.
He liked them, too. At one point I would sit in his lap and we would take turns reading the comics out loud with me doing the voice we were sure must belong to Satchel, and he handling the role of Bucky. With Rob, we just took turns.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Roll 'em

I have avoided blogging lately because, let's face it, my life these past six months is monotony on a roller coaster- strapped myself into stupid and the lapbelt jammed.
I have four modes now- into some new guy who is shooting babies and white picket fences out his ass and is going to make me Donna Reed with plane tickets; missing the living bejeesus out of Nate and whining about such; done with men and Nate and finally on my way; or avoiding blogging about it all.
In other news my posture was evaluated earlier this week- to put it mildly, if I don't start straightening the fuck up when I walk, my next career move will be ringing the bell in the tower and frightening village folk.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

What my little heart desires

Am I dangerous just now or ripe for the picking?
I had a personal trainer assessment tonight and at several points he touched my body- to take my measurements, to point out particular muscles- fingertips along my back, hands against my waist, the palm to palm of a handshake- and I reveled in it all, the sanctimonium of touch.
I am not truly worried about slipping and having sex with someone I barely know, (I'm actually more worried I'll never surpass the gut level cringe when a date tries to touch more than my lips): it's a greater risk I'll snuggle a near stranger.
Because that is what I always miss the most being single, in a way I often don't notice until I'm having a crappy day and two arms holding me tight would make it all better if only I could find someone to hug me; until someone absentmindedly or companionably touches my body and every muscle relaxes in a way that makes me realize how tight I've become all over.
Someone who makes me feel peaceful, someone warm and snuggly who holds no sexual threat as I am oddly threatened by sexual advances these months- to come and curl up with me for a few hours.
Go hug a single person today!

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Irony

When I was 15 my parents separated (to later divorce and bitterly scorn each other to this day)- and my father left, among other things, his rowing machine which I began to use while watching television in our finished basement.
I had to sneak.
Because my mom would yell at me, telling me as she so oft has through my life what I did and didn't want for myself.
"Karen, I want you to stop using the rowing machine- it's ridiculous. You don't want to have big developed muscles."
At age 25 I started to lift free weights, and continue til this day. Last spring a mandated college fitness course arose and of the choices available I opted for weight lifting. Finally my trepidation in the weight room, so predominately a man-populated area, began to wither. Now I feel like I belong there as much as the often 100% male population that surrounds me on the benches. Guess I knew my own mind on that one.

When I was 14 it was suggested by one of my many revolving psychologists - my mom is also big on diploma'd psychology, and no one could figure out why Karen had such low self esteem (my guess is natural shyness and introversion coupled with ostracism at school and in public) or diagnose my tics- anyway, it was suggested I volunteer at the hospital as a candy striper. The duties of a candy striper were explained to me by this therapist, and it all sounded fabulous to me. Please, Mom!
An absolute NO. Because, like so many others things I've wished to do and done, it would be too dangerous for me. Too many germs.
I never got to be a candystriper, but I am a nurse now; clinicals done in the hospital, work days in various longterm care centers and physician's offices. I've worked around flu, pneunmonia, hepatitis, AIDS.
So much for protecting my from the world and myself, though she still tries.

I did not choose nursing or weight lifting to spite my mother- rather I found myself involved in these things before remembering her wishes against them; just two more veins running naturally through my life.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Excerpts

(from The Mininster's Wooing, "The Sea"; Harriet Beecher Stowe.)
"And ever and anon came on the still air the soft, eternal pulsations fo the distant sea,- sound mournfullest, most mysterious, of all the harpings of nature. It was the sea- the treacherous, soft, dreadful, inexplicable sea."

(from The Chimney Corner, "Conversation"; Harriet Beecher Stowe.)
"Real conversation presupposes intimate acquaintance. People must see each other often enough to wear off the rough bark and outside rind of commonplaces and conventionalities in which their real ideas are enwrapped, and give forth without reserve their innermost and best feelings."

Sunday, October 01, 2006

pearls and caviar

I was reading This Fish archives (http://thisfish.ivillage.com/love/archives/2004/08/my_confession) and reminded of something- I am a high maintenance friend, always needing cleaning-up-after.
I'm flat broke, my love life is dead, my car is falling apart, I'm having an identity crises- it's always something again.
But I know I am high maintenance and thank the good people who persist in loving me no matter how often they have to step in and put me back together.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

And they're off

How can I convey the humor of an old and bent over grey haired husband and wife, she in a printed cotton dress and green sweatpants and taller than he, each hunched over a walker yet vibrant and energetic- He yells, Where are we going? from behind; she calls back, Follow me! and off they go, speeding in their own way down the corridor, one tailing the other.
Would that, could that, be me and a long-loved spouse some day?

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Ode to the NJDMV

There once was a child of four
Tossing a fit on the DMV floor
Mom grimaced and sighed
Silently counted to five

My sympathies lay
With the child in tears
His wailing and kicking
Assailing our ears

I'd have been there myself
If I weren't twenty seven
Dear God move this line!
I invoked to the heavens

Then to my right
A Suit hit the floor
Screaming into his briefcase
Down went one more

Ladies in dresses
Kicking and cranky
The Blue Hair beside me
Bitching into her hanky


The cashier was frenzied
The child dumbfounded
He counted to five
Then yelled, You're all grounded!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Generation X (cellent!)

Things to be unknown by our grandchildren:

1)mercurochrome
2)mercury thermometers
3)the Twin Towers
4)carry on luggage
5)television station sign-off signal;
and sitting in front of the television early in the morning,watching the technicolor vertical bars, waiting for television stations to come back on.
6)Bob Barker
7)Johnny Carson
8)cassette deck
9)walkman
10)station wagons
11)...and 'riding in the way-way back.
and your sweaty thighs sticking to the vinyl bench seats in the summer.
12)roller rinks-and roller-skating birthday parties.
13)hand written letters; S.W.A.K.
14)missing a phone call if you were out
14)typewriters
15)...and typing or writing out school papers before correction tape and white out;
ergo, ripping up the page and starting over if you made a mistake- even if you were on the last line
16)owning your first complete set of encyclopedias
17)the importance of the no. 2 pencil
18)knobs on the TV for vertical hold, color, and contrast
19)playground structures made of metal and cemented into macadam
20)Tang with breakfast
21)playing the original Atari when it was brand new- and Pong was cool.
22)buying something new on a 33rpm- or borrowing mom and dad's 45's
23)getting up to change the channel
24)waiting for the theater movie to come on television
25)dialing the operator for assistance
26)asking the operator for an address and getting it
27)flash cubes
28)at the airport meeting/leaving someone directly at the gates
29)chicken pox as a childhood given-Do you have a pock scar, too?
30)Your turn!!!



Can you think of anything else? Something from your generation?

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Karen's Confessions

1)I jump on the bed in hotel rooms. There's a reason kids do it- it's fun!
2)I double dip at Continental breakfasts- I figure at 90-100 per night they can afford to feed me a second frozen bagel and cup of coffee.
3)I also make or strip my hotel bed in the morning and gather all my used towels in the tub! and pilfer all the samples. (but none of the linens or toilet paper!)
4)I empty the rest of the bread basket into my napkins to take home (except at fancy places)- it's getting thrown out anyway!
5)I recycle my foil and ziploc bags until they have holes.
6)I've literally clotheslined people (Jay!) with drying laundry strung at my height across the kitchen.
7)I fell ass over teakettle down hardwood stairs onto ceramic tile when I was six knocking myself out cold and gained a concussion-
to this I attribute all lacking mental capacities ;)
(I was in sock feet cradling marshmallows in a napkin instead of hanging onto the railing)
8)I talk to myself everywhere- yep, even in public places. It's increasing with age.
9)I try to get away with mouthing the Happy Birthday song so no one will be tortured by my singing.
10)In desparate times, I've eaten bittersweet baking chocolate- and almost liked it.
11)While sleeping I somehow pull the topsheet to the right, and the quilt to the left- I even them up in the morning and wake the next day to find them pulled opposite directions again.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Not alone

That morning I flipped through the radio as usual on my short 8AM drive into work.
I stopped at 95.5- Ray Charles singing America the Beautiful.
Smoke spreading through the sky from a nearby woods fire seemed appropos.
Within a mile the tears started, and it was comforting to be certain there were other people crying for the very same day.
By the time I arrived at work I was a little weak, nerves jangled. Not alone there either.
Through the day we talked of 09/11/01, and of how we were feeling that 09/11/06; spoke with each other, with the patients.
People sported little flags, stars and stripes shirts, ensembles in pieces of red, white,and blue.
There was talk of loved ones lost that day, of where we were, of how we first reacted, of how on 09/11/06 we watched the news, listened to the radio, thought about it all and cried.

Saturday, September 09, 2006