Life Gets in the Way

It's hard to believe that it's been a month since I last wrote.  I've missed it.  I've missed my PBAU peeps.  At times I'm at a loss as to what to write about.... whether it be too much to say or not enough.  Today I'm compelled to tell you about the movies I've seen, the books I have read and in general what I've been up to.  First up is the movie Cabin in the Woods.  I don't go to movies often, for no reason really.  I love going to the movies.  I love the whole experience of it.  Chock up the lack of going to them to one of the many things the man isn't into doing.  Suddenly in a span of 3 days, I saw two movies.  Cabin in the Woods is the latest bit of crazy from Joss Whedon.  Ahhh Joss, how I love you.  This is the man responsible for the TV shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.  And if you're a fan of those shows, you will see some blasts from those pasts.... Amy Acker (Fred from Angel) and Tom Lenk (Andrew from Buffy).  On a whole I give this movie a thumbs up.  It's truly fucked up in the best possible way.

It put me back in touch with my love of horror movies.  It was creepy and weird, bloody but not in a slasher flick kind of way.  It rocked.

Two days later I went to see Hunger Games.  Now, I would probably never go see this movie, nor would I probably watch it when it comes to cable.  I didn't read the books and after reading the Twilight series, I vowed never to read another young adult series ever again.  Seriously, you give Twilight to a vampire lover such as myself and you get vampires with no fangs who sparkle in the sun?  Ugh.  But more on that later.  My Goddaughter asked me to take her to see Hunger Games so alas, what is one to do?  Of course I had to take her.  I was worried though, that I might embarrass her.  Why?  Well she is 12 years old.  Do you remember being 12?  I do.  Everything and everybody is embarrassing.  And when you are suddenly in public with your purple haired Godmother, well, that could be embarrassing to someone who is not used to being around you all that much.  But she was fine, and the funny thing?  Just about everyone in the movie has an interesting colored hair!  So instead of weird looks or the stinkeye that I normally get, I got knowing looks because people just assumed I was a Hunger Games groupie! Interestingly, I actually liked the movie!  It had a level of violence to it that I didn't expect.  Which, to me, is a bonus.  And a blue haired Stanley Tucci was in it, big bonus!  I loves me some Stanley Tucci.

So those were my two forays into a movie theatre this past month.  I also caught three movies on cable this month.... Horrible Bosses, Bridesmaids and Fight Club.  The first two were really freakin funny and I highly recommend them both.   The third came highly recommended to me from a friend who was somewhat appalled that I had never seen it.  Why did I never see it before!?  It was intense and interesting and surprising and wow, just wow.  Thanks for the recommendation T!

And then we have books... I read the 10th book in the Black Daggar Brotherhood series by JR Ward called Lover Reborn.  These are probably my favorite of the vampire erotica genre that I've read.  The vamps are hot, sexy, love to fuck, fight and bite.  They are rich and devoted and did I mention they love to fuck?  They aren't pansy vampires who only kill animals.  They are flawed and scarred and did I mention they love to fuck?  I think I might have.  Admittedly the series is not as good as it used to be, but alas, I am addicted to those brothers.

I also read... *hanging my head in shame* 50 Shades of Grey.  Have you read it?  Have you heard of it?   Well let me enlighten you if you haven't.  The book started out as Twilight fan fiction and somehow, someway it was picked up and the woman who wrote it got a three book, book deal out of it!  It was out of morbid curiosity that I decided reading a version of Twilight where Edward has balls and Bella gets her ass fucked was necessary. 50 Shades changes the names, the locations, adds in BDSM, and takes out the supernatural element.  But if you read Twilight, you will see all the similarities between the two.  So much so that I cannot believe that the woman who wrote it, EL James, actually got a book deal.  It's a complete rip off!

So books, movies and what else have I been doing for the last month or so?  I competed with a friend in Cleveland's Finest Hors D'Oeuvre contest.  It was an absolute blast!!!  We didn't win, but seriously had a good time.  I've also been cleaning a lot of crap out of my life, meaning cleaning house and purging things I just don't need.  I've started selling on Ebay again, and whatever I don't think I can sell goes to Goodwill.  I got a new computer (yah!!!   Oh my darling Gracious Plenty - the name of my new IMac - I love you so!  I'm still trying to get used to the Magic Mouse though, that scrolling thing is tricky) and in general I have been looking after me.  I don't do that very often.  It's kind of weird, but feels good too.

Goodbye Dear Friend

I've written about J before, a few times.  How much she has enhanced my life and how she was a big inspiration for me in starting this blog.  I've written how she has been battling lung cancer, a non smoker, and the unfairness I have felt that she contracted the disease.  And now it is with a heavy heart and a lot of sadness that I must say she has lost the war with cancer on March 24.

She fought every battle with utmost grace and a dignity that I can only hope to aspire to.  Every setback was met with optimism.  Every victory, with joy.  In the year and nine months since her diagnosis, she looked cancer in the eye and met it head on.  It's a testament to her courageous spirit.  Sure, at the beginning she wanted to bury her head in the sand and not face it, but once that initial terror/denial ended, she was all strength.  I dont' know that I can adequately do her justice because truly she is the bravest person I ever knew.  And I will miss her every single day.  On the surface, if anyone saw us together they would wonder what these two women have in common.  But it was what we had below the surface that really mattered. She was 12 years older than me, but it never made a difference.  She had a completely different life than I do, but that didn't matter either.  She saw a lot in me that I sometimes have trouble seeing.  And I saw in her a beautiful soul with a glorious sense of humor.  We clicked immediately and have been friends since around 1996.

In January, things were looking up.  The cancer in her lung was all but gone and nothing more than scar tissue.  Unfortunately it had spread and there was a spot on her liver.   After several different courses of chemo for the liver cancer, that cough came back.  The cough that was the beginning of everything.  And I knew this was a bad sign.  A very bad sign.  But I tried hard not to let myself think it.  I didn't want to.  I knew it was getting down to the wire and that her doctor was running out of treatment options.  That cough.  It nagged at me.

Through it all she was helping plan her son's wedding and hired me to make candy boxes for the rehearsal dinner.  Every time we needed to contact each other it had to be via text or email because once she started to talk the cough took over.  And still I tried to remain in denial.  I just didn't want to think the worst.  I wanted to be optimistic even though the last time I did speak to her, she had told me she's made peace with everything.  Strength. Grace.  Dignity.

On March 7, her husband called me to let me know that J's treatment options have been exhausted.  There was nothing more anyone could do and she was now under hospice care.  Her son's rehearsal dinner was the next day, the wedding on March 10.  Would she be able to go was my question.  Yes, she was going to the wedding come hell or high water, but had opted out of the rehearsal so she could conserve her energy.  Good plan.  And she did go to the wedding and from the pictures I saw, she looked beautiful.

On March 14, I received a letter in the mail from her.  A letter that in essence was a goodbye. Devastating and yet beautiful.  Something I will cherish.  And a part of which I will share with you....

You are and always will be someone who touched my life in so many positive ways.  A little bit of you will always be in me.  Much love forever, J

After drying my tears, I texted her to thank her for the beautiful letter and tell her again that I love her and how brave she is.  She replied:

Hold on to it and read it when you need a little J in your life.  I love you so very much!

I told her I would hold onto it forever, and I will.  How do you say goodbye to someone so dear, so special, so a part of you?  I don't know.  But I will be traveling to Cincinnati this weekend for her Memorial service so I can try to do that.  Oh how I wish I could be going there again for a visit, to hang out with her and her husband.  To meet her new daughter in law.  How I wish it were anything but the reason I am going there.  Love you forever J.  

 

How Not to Win in Advertising

I'm sure I'm not the only one to have noticed all the crapola in advertising these days.  Now, I'm no expert on what it takes to make a successful ad campaign but sometimes I really think the pitchman and the boss who OK'd some of these ads should be fired immediately and urged to find a new line of work.   Here are my top 3 that should be removed from the airwaves forever, wiped from our brains by any means necessary and never spoken of again.


#3

Doody humor, seriously not the way to win my biz.  Then again, I don't have kids so maybe this appeals to people who do.  I can't imagine it does, but what the fuck do I know?  And can you seriously ever hear that song again and not think "Poop!  There it is!"

#2

It's the creepy bears who live in the woods and wipe their asses so much that they have toilet paper stuck to them all the time.  You know, if you bears used Charmin that wouldn't happen.  Then again, if bears who lived in the woods used Charmin after every shit there would be much bigger landfill problem than we have now.  Wooded areas would be overrun with toilet paper.  Birds would be making nests out of it, beavers would be making dams out of it, the three little pigs would be making houses out of it.  And even worse than all this is the tag line... Enjoy the go.  Who thinks up this shit!

And the #1 most heinous of all ads....

Have a happy period.  It's so heinous I have to say it again... have a happy period.  There is no doubt in my mind that this annoying piece of nonsense was created by a man.  And whoever his is, I'd like to hang him by his balls with a tampon string while utter phrases like, "have a pleasant vasectomy" and "have an enjoyable kick in the nuts" and "hope your prostate exam rocks!"

My Deep Dark Secret

I have a secret.  A deep dark secret that nobody knows. It's not particularly shameful although some might consider it scandalous.  It's something I've been carrying around for many many years.  I dare not say it out loud because whenever I even slightly elude to this secret I am met with gasps, whispers and shrieks of "NO!!!!"  But I can hide it no longer.  I have to get it off my chest.

I fucking hate the Muppets!!!!

There.  I said it.  It's out.  I truly fucking hate the Muppets.  I hate how they infiltrate everything.  I'm watching a cooking show... there they are, fucking Muppets talking about food they don't eat.  I'm watching Project Runway, and there is that freakin swine Miss Piggy, demanding a new outfit.  What the fuck!  Austin Scarlett even said that he felt Miss Piggy and he were kindred spirits.  Seriously Austin?  She's a fucking sock!! I don't want to see Martha Stewart chatting it up with Kermit.   I don't want to see Emeril reduced to being embarrassed by his pork obsession because Miss Piggy is on the show that day.  And I really really never want to see that annoying fucking Elmo ever again!!  Elmo is the worst of them all.    

I guess to be fair I can say that I don't hate all the Muppets, like I kind of dig the Swedish Chef, and of course, the Count.  Beaker's pretty cool.  And I like the musician Muppets ok.  But that's as far as I go.  That's it. The rest of the Muppets need to put a sock in it and shut the fuck up!  

Tragedy in Ohio

I'm sure by now most have heard about the latest school shootings that took place this week in Chardon, Ohio.  It's unfathomable how this could continue to happen and when it happens near your own community, the unreal aspect of it gets amped up.  I will never understand the mindset that thinks walking into school with a gun and shooting as many kids as you can is ever the right thing to do.  On Monday, TJ Lane thought it was, which right there tells you something is wrong with his mindset.

Three kids are now dead. Two more still in the hospital with injuries and TJ's life is over.  I have nothing but sympathy for all involved.... the terrorized students, the parents and families of the injured and dead children, the parents and family of the shooter, and even some for the shooter himself.  I guess I should really say I have mixed emotions where TJ is involved.  I feel badly that he thought he had no other recourse for his angst.  That is sad.  But on the other hand, I'm glad for once that the shooter didn't turn the gun on himself and leave so many questions behind.  He is alive and now he has to answer for what he did.  He will be tried as an adult, which I think is the right thing to do.  He is 17 years old and old enough to face the music.

Which nicely segues me to something that bothers me about instances such as these. The media.  The media are quick to portray anyone who acts out as a "punk" or a "goth" and this time is no different.  The media has been describing TJ as a loner.  He's not.  Kids at the school have said he has friends.  The media has described TJ as a goth.  Also not true. Articles like this one, from Thomas Fleming of the UK's Daily Mail, boggle my mind.  It's loaded with stereotypes and misrepresentations.  "Victim of bullying" means he's homosexual?  Since when?  Maybe I'm out of touch but there are lots of reasons kids are bullied, it's not exclusive to homosexuality.  True he is quick to say that TJ was not homosexual but why the generalization?

And then there is this quote from the article....

Unfortunately, millions of American kids, at one point or another in their teens, adopt the Goth look, and while it usually means they are taking drugs, playing violent video games, and mutilating their bodies, few of them become killers.  Why school officials and parents permit children to advertise their self-destructive inclinations is another matter, one that goes more nearly to the heart of what has gone so terribly wrong in American life.

There is so much wrong with this I don't even know where to begin.  It's unfortunate that kids turn to something that makes them feel better about themselves?  Yes, that's exactly what goth and punk did for me.  I didn't take drugs.  I didn't, nor do I now play violent video games.  I have never mutilated my body or become a killer.  I found kindred spirits, music I could relate to, friends for life.  I found something I had been searching for.  I would like to tell Mr. Fleming that it's not "unfortunate" for kids to be themselves, what is unfortunate it that closed minded assholes like you make it more difficult for them to continue to be themselves and try to live up to a standard that you and others like you seem to put in place.  It's unfortunate that tragedies such as what happened in Chardon end up being a platform for the Thomas Fleming's of the world to put down what they do not and never will understand.

He makes many more ignorant and stereotypical comments in his article, but I'll let you read it for yourself.  Every time I read it and see it again, I get more angry.  Angry because he's stupid and uninformed.  Angry because he, and others like him, make it seem like as long as there are goths in the world, kids in schools aren't safe, hell no one is safe!   Why can't the media just say what it really is... the boy is troubled.  Seriously troubled.  Whether it be a mental condition, because he is bullied, because he comes from a broken home...whatever it is.  He is troubled and he was already a student at a school for "at risk" kids.  So authority figures know that he is troubled.  Did they know he would go on a shooting rampage?  I'm sure not, but if they happened upon his Facebook page, they might have had some idea that his problems run pretty deep.  Maybe instead of focusing on how he looks they should focus on how a 17 year old got a gun in the first place and got into a school with it.  Instead of trying to change all kids into little carbon copies of each other, maybe if ignorant fuckjobs like Mr. Fleming embraced diversity and differences in children, less of them would be bullied for those differences.

Let me make this perfectly clear, I am in no way, shape or form giving TJ Lane a pass for what he did.  You do the crime, you do the time.  I'm just so angered that the media always jumps to the same, often false, conclusions.  My heart goes out to all the victims and their families.  I hope that this will be the last time we ever have to hear about such a senseless tragedy.

Laying Low

I've been quiet lately.   Very quiet, which is kind of strange for me really.  I'm sure many have noticed.  I'd notice if I wasn't me.  It's not conscious or purposeful, it just is.  Maybe my mind is so overloaded with things right now that I don't know what to say so instead say nothing?  That could be. 

So much in my life has changed over the past 4 or 5 years and things keep on changing.  Some things are coming full circle, others are growing and evolving, and still others are coming to an end.  It's kind of scary and exciting all rolled into one.  There are days when I am so happy and so excited about what lies ahead that I can't even contain myself.  I burst with joy.  Then there are days when I feel sad about what I'm leaving behind.  Some of my decisions might be wrong, not what someone else would do, or end up being a disappointment to family or friends.  But the thing is, I'm 46 years old and I cannot live my life based on how others will react to what I am doing.  It's not who I am.  I can't live my life for someone else.  I can only live for me.  If that sounds selfish, so be it, but that isn't the intent.  The intent is to make myself happy.  If I can't do that, who will?  No one. 

So often I've felt judged by people, judged on how I write, judged on how I look, judged on a decision I make.  Judged by people I know, love or don't know at all.  And I don't like that feeling.  No one does.  It makes you second guess yourself and if I've learned nothing else in my 4+ decades on this earth, it's to trust my own instincts. 

I've joked to many that I think I'm going through a midlife crisis, but I don't really think that at all.  It's funny to say it, but no.  I don't believe that's it.  I think that so much has happened that I have woken up to the fact that I don't have all the time in the world anymore.  That differences that never used to matter, now seem to.  That even though I never ever imagined I'd be here, that it feels so good and natural and maybe even how it should be.  That the things I want, they matter and no one but me can make them happen.  It might be a bumpy ride, but anything worthwhile is going to be. 

Missing My Honey Girl

Honey has been gone for about two months now.  And wow, do I miss her!  I still keep looking for her even though I know I'll never see her outside running around in her backyard again. 

Honey was a gorgeous honey colored Shar-Pei.  We hit it off immediately.  She was my little buddy.  Outside most of the time, when I would go out, I'd always say, "Hi Honey," when I saw her.  And I'd do it again when I came home.  She had the cutest, squishiest face ever.  And her little curled up piggy tail would wag when she saw me.

On days when I had time to kill, I'd head over to her yard with treats and give her some pets, some scratchies and some play time.  She loved to play.  She would grab her toy, come running over to me and drop it at my feet.  If I went to pick it up, she'd growl, but it was just part of her game.  I'd grab it and toss it and she would run and run and run!   She would grab it and then run around in circles, then come running at me and jump on me, dropping the toy again, starting the game all over.  She loved to have a good time, my Honey girl. 

Sometimes when I went to see her she would flop over on her back and give me her belly to rub.  Other times she would burrow her head into my legs, hard, and rub and grunt.  Such a sweet puppy.  She was a rescue, but after a few weeks of having her, my neighbor didn't think she was going to keep her.  She just didn't have the time to dedicate to having a dog.   I thought about taking her and talked to my vet about the possibility of just that.  But he was not really for it, since we already had 3 cats.  He said Shar-Pei's can be unpredictable.  As it turned out, my neighbor couldn't part with her anyway so it didn't matter.  I got all the fun of hanging out with her and none of the responsibility. 

And then this past fall I noticed a very large growth on Honey's leg.  It didn't look good, not at all.  And when I asked about it, my neighbor said the vet was running tests on her, they didn't know if it was cancer or not but were thinking she may have to have her leg amputated.  A few days later, Honey had a big old cone collar (or as I like to call them, satellite dishes) around her head but the tumor and leg were still there.  I was told they wanted to run more tests, because she had now stopped eating.

And then, Honey was gone.  Days went by and I didn't see her sweet face outside anymore.  I kept looking out my kitchen window into her backyard, but she was never there.  My worry was really amping up because once an animal stops eating, things are really bad.  I looked and looked for her, but a week went by and she wasn't out.  I tried to think positive... maybe she did have her leg amputated and was recovering.  Not that that's positive, but it's better than the other thought going through my head. 

Finally one day, I saw my neighbor and went out to talk to her.  My worst fear was realized.  Honey was gone.  She had to be euthanized because not only did she have the big tumor in her leg, but she had several others throughout her body, including one in her throat.  And I cried, cried like she was my own and I'd lost her.  And I still miss her and look out my window for her.  She was only 5 years old. 

Honey, in her yard.  Don't you just want to squeeze her face!