Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Premenstral Self Portrait, Aka...oh woe is me.



O! to be cherished and adored
and not dreaded and abhored!
Such a cynic eccentric,
cold, callous, calculating.
Narrow, bitter, impatient.
Manipulative, myopic,
opinionated and jaded.
Bitchy witchy wishywashy.
Not wise or decisive
but aggressive and derivsive.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Tell a story that has been passed down through your family. (If you do not have a biological family, tell any story you remember hearing as a child


Well, my parents had a weird sense of humor and since I was the last, late in life, whoops baby, I got alot of that good old "one on one" since my 2 brothers had moved out and were married and stuff.
One thing I distinctly recall was whenever my family were talking about something that happened before I was born, and I would ask, "where was I when that happened," they would always tell me "you were still in Africa." So I naturally thought I was from Africa. When I started first grade(I never had to go to Kindergarten, it was not required back in those days) my teacher asked everyone to say their name and where they were from. Ok, you already guessed it, when it came to my turn, I blurted out in my little white girl southern accent, "I'm from Africa." Well, that got quite a response from the kids who thought it was hilarious, but my teacher did not find it amusing at all and accused me right off of lying. The kids teased me for 6 months everytime I came to school.
And so began my journey through school. I have to tell you It didn't get much better. I was either making stuff up, lying or trying to figure out how to stay home. School was a big headache for me, actually.
Another story that I have heard was the story of an old maid Aunt, can't recall her name. She was somebody's sister and was very eccentric. Im not sure which side of the family tree shes from but I'm pretty sure she's a blood related because I have some more family that is sorta like her. (For future reference, all my people come from Arkansas, and you should know that up front.) Seems this old aunt would gather dust up from all over the house, to stuff into the rag dolls that she would make and then sit them around on her beds and furniture. She also wallpapered her house in that thick brown paper they give you to wrap up parcels and meat. All except the ceiling, which she papered with the funnies section of the newspaper, because she was sick of looking at the blank ceiling all nite. (Well, hey, here's an idea, go to sleep you weirdo.)
Then there was another Aunt who rented out rooms in a boarding house, and had a side business of raising worms. One time, she ran an ad in the newspaper which read, "rooms for rent, 25 South Main. And don't forget, I have worms!"
My Uncle Earl worked for the railroad, and once, when a train derailed, he ended up with a boxcar full of scorched jars of peanut butter and he would give everyone tons of peanut butter. He also had acquired a Strativarous violin. (I don't know, so don't ask.) Uncle Earl asked me once If I enjoyed my trip (to visit them, I assumed) and I said Yes. He asked me "well, was it an acid trip or a grass trip?" Now I was a teenager in the 70's so you can imagine the reaction, I thought he was the coolest Uncle ever. He thought he was pretty funny too. My peoples liked to drink a little bit so there was always an intoxicated adult around to make fun of.
I actually had another old Aunt who lived in a place called Locust Bayou, and she had about 13 kids, of which none came to see her in her nursing home when she got sick. I do not know those cousins and don't want to. She was my mom's and aunts half sister, and also their cousin. It's a long story.
Ok, I'll just tell you.
Seems like back in the day, it was customary that if a man died and left a widow with kids, his unattached brother should step up and marry her. So that's what happened. My granny was married to brothers and had one child with the first hubby, then the rest of her kids with the brother of the first, or her second husband.
(Yes, those are banjos you are hearing)

Ok, enough of the straight up family tree of me. We do have a few branches, but our gene pool is murky and a little shallow.

But we have fun.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Strangers


The Strangers in my skin
lurks around corners
whispers to me.
Wears a dark coat
Stands in doorways
always about to turn away
gives sidelong glances
casts long shadows in
my confidence.
Echoes of snickering,
sounds of wet pavement
and footsteps on empty streets.
The strangers move in the smoky dark.
The faces never revealed, but I know the shadows.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Spring in the air




Well, spring is around the corner and we are looking at renewal once again. Much to look toward, much to look back on. Very few regrets so far. I am slightly distraught over a family member who is causing me much worry, but I am learning to let go as much as I can. It is difficult to watch someone fall over and over again. But there is nothing to do about it, so I must help myself adjust.
This spring I am going to start putting the Childrens book I am messing around with on my front burner and get 'er done.
I have been taking a creative writing class that has helped me immensely with motivation. Thanks Valentine!

I have big plans for the yard, as well, starting with a new fence and flowers and a coat of paint here and there. Don't want to get too motivated and forget to write.
LOL...

Sunday, March 15, 2009

105 pounds ago


then


now

Some ruminations, preop Lapband....

Going backward. Backing up, doing it in reverse. That is the answer to the question. In seeking how to begin this memoir, where to start has been the main stumble bumble. So I will start here, at the now, instead of the beginning where all good memoirs start. Who cares anyway?
My most current obsession or the obsession closest to the cerebral cortex is the losing of the blubber-suit. I have accumulated an alarming mass of fat on my body. I have no idea where it came from or when it arrived, I only just noticed it. (Now everyone who believes that stand on your head, as my dear departed mother would say.) But for “memoir’s” sake, lets just pretend I just noticed it. From this moment forward, my existence will be to get rid of it. To shed it like the layer of insulation it is. I have become 2 or 3 people and its getting rather crowded in here. Now I always thought that I was preceded by my breasts but now a days I have to look around them to see my feet. Im not happy about that or the fact that I wear a size 26 in pants, 34 in shirts(this is huge) and a six shoe. I look like a pear on stilts with these litttle bittty feet. People do love me in spite of my fat and I know they do. I think they would love to see me in better shape, so I go forward with the blessings I know they send me. My outspoken friend Laura, never stopped telling me how concerned she is. I would get really mad at her but I really know she is right. So as I sit here and make plans and such, I am avoiding exercise. That is how I sabotage myself. I think I am so slick. Walking is how I will begin to move, but when? In the morning? Evening? Afternoon? Morning and evening? With or without dog? With or without child? Before or after the coffee? See? I am doing it again.
Ok...where to start? Ok, I had a baby about 15 years ago and it has been easing up on me ever since. Of course I was a fat child and teenager, then later a chubby adult. Never have I been “thin” but I have been less fat. There are pictures of me to prove it. Some observations I have had include breast feeding and weight loss. I got rid of a lot of immediate baby weight breast feeding. No if I could breast feed all the time, I might be thin. Do any of you have babies you need breast fed? Is that gross? I guess maybe it is. When I was nursing my last baby, I got right back in those pre-pregnancy pants, but as soon as I stopped, bam!! I burst right through them. So I just found some bigger pants and went on. That has been my legacy ever since. I have finally reached the end of bigger pants. I am going to go the other way now. I don’t think they sell clothes any bigger anyway.
I am going to have surgery, one way or the other, im getting rid of it. Wait and see. My sweet husband seems sad to see it go, but he soon perked up and said he was cool with it as long as I didn’t find some sexy Mexican and run away. Now why would he say such a thing? Lindsey, my last child who is also overweight, is way out in the lead and has lost about 20 pounds on phentermine. I am very happy for her. She seems to be on her way. Now its my turn. Im nearly 50 and it’s a turning point for me. Halfway somewhere.
There is a bright and sunny day in my past where I was happy and carefree. No children to worry about no bills, only fun and laughter with my best friend, Ellen. She was and still is always nearby for me to call and chat with. I am pondering those easy autumn days as I ponder my future too. I remember blazing reds and oranges and crisp cool breezes and long walks home. Lurking around on the fringes of my memory, there is also things like cinnamon bread and eggs, with sweet, sweet tea and spaghettios. Bar-b-que chips and chocolate cupcakes, Dr. Pepper and 16 oz cokes. Candy and cokes and chips were the main part of my diet and that set the stage for the first act of my fat play. I liked to eat mustard and pickle sandwiches and mayonnaise sandwiches and Hawaiian punch fruity juicy red. On Saturdays I would make a pizza and eat the whole thing by myself. Strange thing is that today, my favorite splurge junk food junk food is chocolate cupcake and bar-b-que chips. I still like real cokes, but I drink diet cokes because I know that I should. We are what we eat, that’s for sure.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Oceana's cradle


Oceana's lover

Bits of ancient life ground down by time, now a salty mist
a mist that clings.
Clings to wet skin, clings onto dark and secret places.
Gritty, grainy, crunchy, crystalline-
She cradles the sea, holds the sea, loves the sea.
Is created by the sea-
synergy.
So Soft and cool at night.
Hot and hard at noon.
Packed down so solid by the feet
of the flocks
That find their way there.
These are Sounds of Ancient Seas-
Surf and shore collide in a chorus of constant motion, churning, arching.
Yearning only to be one.
Unchanged by Millennia or Man.

Monday, March 9, 2009

A bedtime story


We are taking a break from the Froggie who would a wooing go, and his friends Fluffy Bunny to bring you this important announcement.
No, really, this is not that important. I just wanted to do some bloggie stuff, living life stuff, like others do on their blogs. Except I dont make cute paper crafts or cake decorating. I am an amateur photographer, and definitely an amateur writer. So I don't have any colorful web designs to show you, but I do have horror stories galore.
Here is one you are sure to enjoy.
As most of you know, I am a nurse in an urban hospital. I work weekend nights with some of the greatest people I have ever met. We are a top notch team of nurses who have over 150 collective years of experience.
How we all ended up on the unit and the same shift, I will never know. We work in the Cardiovascular surgery ICU, and we have some really sick people come through needing various surgical interventions. Most make it. Some do not.
Of the ones who do not live, the ones that really get to me are the young people and when I say young, I mean the 20-60 age group who like to smoke crystal meth and crack cocaine. Two of the most wicked drugs in the world.
See? What happens here is usually the patient is hypertensive anyway, and instead of buying their blood pressure medication, they buy crack and crystal. Now why in the hell would a 60 year old hypertensive smoke a rock of crack, you may ask? Well, we ask that question all of the time and really don't really know, but if you look at the medication history provided by his/her "shocked" family, you will see things on there like... aspirin, plavix, lopressor, and sometimes viagra. Way too old to be smokin' the rock and getting crazy on Viagra.
Ok, I admit it. I'm being judgmental, the first "no no" of nursing.
Well sorry but after pouring countless gallons of blood into people who we try to save, after their aortas dissect from stem to stern, I can't help but be a little judgmental. Once or twice we were able to pull them out of the icy grip of death, or the grim ripper as we like to call him. (Not reaper, ripper), only to have the dumb ass go home after 4 or 6 months in the hospital (usually without insurance), and smoke some more crack. Guess what happens next?
They come back in dissecting all over again..For those of you who are not familiar with the term dissecting aorta, it is when the inner lining of that really big artery that carries blood from your heart down to the rest of your body, rips the length of the vessel, it usually starts in the Aortic valve and makes its way to the iliac arteries. That's the ones that feed your legs. In between it hits your renal arteries and sometimes the coronarys. All of this is caused by a violent rise in blood pressure beating the inside of the arteries and eventually, they begin to tear along the inside or Intima. Usually the outside wall holds, but this is not a comfort, because it won't hold for long. When that happens, it is called a rupture and you can pretty much kiss yer own ass goodbye.

So, the moral of this story is, if you smoke crack or crystal meth, you are on a hellbound train. You will wind up dead. In other words, it will kill your ass.

If you know a smoker of crack, please print this off and give it to them.
You can tell them we will be seeing the insides of them after their insides explode. This cannot be over-exaggerated.

By the way, this is where a lot of the blood supply goes.
And not one of these humans ever has insurance, so guess who's paying for all of this excellent nursing and medical care?
You and me: the taxpayers and insured.

We pour it in, and out it pours back .
All for the love of a rock of crack.

(Sorry I had to do a little rhyme.)

I hope I could shed a little light on the state of our medical situation in my little corner of the world. I know we are not isolated.

The news isn't all bad, though. For those of us who care about our bodies there are so many wonderful and new drugs as well as procedures to keep the surgeons away.

Take good care of your body. Don't smoke crack.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Cracked fairy tales- revised





A Frog he would a-Wooing go. This is The Original.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This book is a recreation of the original picture book by Randolph Caldecott. This one has a 1988 copyright by New Orchard Editions, Link House, West Street Poole, Dorset BH15 1LL, UK. It was printed in Purtugal by Printer Purtugesa.


The picture on the postcard illustrating this rhyme is the first picture in Caldecott's book. Here are some other pictures from the book. Front cover, Back cover,
The text in this book is similar to that in The Funny Froggy Bubble Book, with the same chorus. However, there are some differences. The frog meets the same demise as that in both The Funny Froggy Bubble Book and in the cloth book.


A Frog he would a-wooing go

A Frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigho, says Rowley!
Whether his Mother would let him or no.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

So off he set with his opera hat,
Heigho, says Rowley!
And on his way he met with a Rat.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

"Pray, Mr. Rat, will you go with me,"
Heigho, says Rowley!
:Pretty Miss Mousey for to see?"
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

Now they soon arrived at Mousey's Hall,
Heigho, says Rowley!
And gave a loud knock, and gave a loud call.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

:Pray, Miss Mousey, are you within?"
Heigho, says Rowley!
"Oh, yes, kind Sirs, I'm sitting to spin."
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

"Pray, Miss Mouse, will you give us ginger beer?"
Heigho, says Rowley!
"For Froggy and I are fond of good cheer."
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

"Pray, Mr. Frog, will you give us a song?"
Heigho, says Rowley!
Whether his Mother would let him or no."But let it be something that's not very long."
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

"Indeed, Miss Mouse," replied Mr. Frog,
Heigho, says Rowley!
"A cold has made me as hoarse as a Hog."
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

"Since you have caught cold," Miss Mousey said,
Heigho, says Rowley!
"I'll sing you a song that I have just made."
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!"

But while they were all thus a merry-making,
Heigho, says Rowley!
A Cat and her Kittens came tumbling in.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

The Cat she seized the Rat by the crown;
Heigho, says Rowley!
The Kittens they pulled the little Mouse down.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

This put Mr. Frog in a terrible fright;
Heigho, says Rowley!
He took up his hat, and he wished them good night.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

But as Froggy was crossing a silvery brook,
Heigho, says Rowley!
A lily-white Duck came and gobbled him up.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!

So there was an end of one, two, and three,
Heigho, says Rowley!
The Rat, the Mouse, and the little Frog-gee.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!





And Now, My Reply....






A FROGGIE, HE WOULD A WOOING GO????????

A frog go woo?
Who WOULD he woo to?
Some old widder-woman frog, or a
frisky tadpole, new??

(what is to woo anywho?
What a weird word “woo”is, too.
Does it mean to court, date or just to screw?)

Can you see the old hopper
In his red dapper vest?
Clutching a bouquet of weeds
to his chest?
Trying so hard to find a
woman-frog
to clean up his nest.!




Bein' all friendly and charming, too
He covers his warts with a cover-up goo
Trims his froggie toenails, sticks his
wide foot in a shoe.


And for all of his trouble
he finds no one to woo.

After seeking and searching he sits
on the road.
His emerald green fantasy... well
she never showed.
He NEEDED someone to share
his load.
And a thought came to him,
“Maybe I can find a toad.”