Chris, this is for you...from Emily

All I can think of is My Honey....

Rest in peace, my love.

I love you, my honey

It hits me when I least expect it. I'm here at work, typing away being oh-so-productive when suddenly the bottom drops out of my stomach: my honey is gone. I keep trying to wrap my mind around this reality that I will never see you again. The years stretch before me, endlessly dripping into the beyond, and all I can think of is - what will I do without you? To accept that all the plans we made, the anticipation of growing old together - it will never happen. I never get to hug you again, I never get to laugh with you. That concept just doesn't want to go down. I feel it stuck in my chest, and I try to swallow it up and accept it, but it remains like a fossilized lump in my throat. Oh, honey, I love you so much! Help me be strong today. <3

It's My Birthday Today

Oh, comma, I love you!

You know how there are little niggling things tickling the back of your mind that you think you should probably look up, but half the time when you've got a minute to do so, you can't remember what the heck all those myriad of things are??? Oh, no? Welcome to my life, then...

Well, I knocked one off the list today!

For the last several years, it has been a bugger of a brain-bracker that I compulsively use commas in compound sentences, seperating the first compound sentence from the second compound sentence. However, I have become increasingly aware that other people do not use this comma. Almost no one. But I continued to use it, thinking to myself that I never would have ever begun using it if it was wrong, now would I??!!

Apparently, I was right. I should be using it, and even better yet, when people don't use it, they are wrong! Oh, that made me so happy! Now, I'm not saying all my comma usage is right. I look at my commas in this little bloggery, and I have to say, I'm not sure half the time if they are right or not. But one thing I do know: I can use them in a compound sentence! Whoo-hoo!!!

The Trouble with FB

Like many people oh-so-late-to-see-the-light, I am a recovering soul; yes, recovering from being sucked into the vortex of on-line social networks. As a recovering addict, I have had to force myself to abstain from such pleasures as reading my twitter feed, poking people on facebook and - in one of the biggest moments - I deleted my program on my iphone that automatically updated everyone and everything all at the same time. I don't read other people's posts, I rarely comment or post anything myself. Essentially, I have tried to disappear. Except for that whole deleting-my-account thing. I mean, hey, I've got a lot of pictures and memories wrapped up in all of that!

Since my self-enforced retirement from the online community, I have given some thought to why I felt the need to make this socially-sacrificing gesture, essentially removing myself from party invitations, birth and death notices, and all other general information about my friends and cohorts. What it boiled down to is very simply stated: I only have time in my life for people I truly care about. Perusing these websites not only diminishes the amount of time I can spend on people I truly care about, it distracts me with slogan-style statuses from people I actually don't know all that well and if the truth were known, I really don't care about very much at all. Not that I wish them ill, I just don't wish to see yet another status about a piece of food stuck to the side of their coffee cup or how their dog farted and it really smelled. Which really gets me thinking about what I want and why I want it: I want to know what the people I care about are doing - which can be counted in a number less than 30 - and I want to touch base with them and them only. So....I think I'm going on there and I'm going to clean house - and leave it only to the people I truly want to know drank out of a dirty coffee cup.

Yeah, I had a stroke and can't remember what I was going to write.

I know you, my dearly faithful blog readers (who essentially don't exist), are deeply disappointed by the title of this blog. But, I felt I should share it as this is the one reason that you rarely see posts from me anymore. Here I am at work with a slight lull in my day and suddenly had a burst of inspiration for a new blog post. Excitedly, I logged in already beginning to compose my new literary piece in my head. But then - oh, distraction of distractions - I see my brother's post and begin reading his posts....about five minutes into it I think, oh, yeah, I was going to write a post! So I go to write it and - poof - it's gone. Empty. Blank. Not a primrose of a memory of what it was I thought would be so exciting to write.....and so you get another vacuous nothing of a post. Hmph!!!!!!!

Perhaps one day I will be able to retain my train of thought long enough to write extemporaneously....until then....harumphicolispism!!!!!!!! 

My honey

I just have to tell you - the general world out there - that I have probably the best human being in the world as *my husband*. I'm not saying that to brag, and I'm not saying that to butter him up. It's just the darn truth. No matter how you measure out what a good person truly is - no matter what criteria you use - he will rate at the top of your list, too. He's truly the best human being I know, bar none, and I love him more than my flattened personality could ever, ever express. He saved my life, my childrens' lives and the lives of many other people too numerous to count by being the good, honest, hard working, truly inspiring human being he is. At this time of year when we are thinking of giving things to each other - and even about the things we may get - I realize that there is nothing I could ever give that means so much as what that man gives every day. He is the love of my life, and I pray that his influence makes me a better person each and every day.

Doing it for myself

About six years ago - or was it seven? - I quit college just short of my two year degree. By "just short" I mean by 22 credits. Even still, I could get those 22 credits fairly quickly. I remember Brian Hosticka took 24 credits one semester prior to transferring to a four year university. Last time I saw him was at the court house prior to some court case he was working on. As a lawyer. So I guess those deeply mediocre grades he got that semester didn't hurt him too badly. I mean hey, he finished. I have A's on my transcript. About one A for every class I dropped. I'm thinking deeply mediocre grades on a completed degree a far better accomplishment than my few A's and many, many withdraws.

So I'm heading back this winter, taking six credits, considering that the likely outer limit of my ability while working full time. I'm also taking the last two required classes for my Associates degree. After that, I'll have 16 credits to fill of whatever I want to take. Not too bad, I'm thinking...wish me luck that I can still retain newly-learned knowledge after my stroke. If not, this could be a deeply painful failure. Good luck to me!!!


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Hello, Blogger, Long Time-No See!

I said recently on that little comment on the post one-down on the list here that I don't care who reads my blog; I just write because it is IN me to write - or some such nonsense. Well...that's not entirely true. I write because I love to have people read my blog and post comments. For a long, long, looong time I did the FB hop like the little bunny-bunny I am, reading and commenting and genuinely irritated at most everything other people put on their FB wall. It lacked any real sense of accomplishment for me. Oh, I would post exciting little tidbits and wait with bated breath until *someone* posted a comment and then, within 30 seconds, I would respond. Then wait once more with bated breath for more comments.... Stupid. Not fulfilling. And I would always put such stupid statuses on there - for example, see the stupid status I posted a month or more ago happily plastered on my blog wall (look to the right). See what I mean???

One thing I did like about FB, though, was when my girls' friends wanted to friend me. I loved that. I thought it was so deviilishly clever of me to have *their* friends as *my* friends because then I could see what *they* were putting on *their* wall!!! Stupid. All it really did was show me what is obvious to most well-actualized parents: kids are kiddishly posturing their version of adulthood exhaustively on FB. And quite irritatingly, too. I used to get pretty hyped up if I saw something upsetting on there. Now I realize that - like my own self - the kids are putting stuff up there they barely put together into an actualized thought, so why bother? I mean, do we REALLY want to see the random thoughts plucked out of the heads all around us? Not really. Not me, that's for sure. If I want a vision of random thoughts, I all I have to do is listen to my own!

Anyhoo, it's good to see you. Love-love-love!!

Tweet.....300 and Counting

I just saw that I had published 299 blogs. This one equals 300. Holy cats alive! That's less than one a day for a year. And I've had my blog for like 5 or 6 years. Hmm...I'm thinking that's rather tankopulous.

In other news, I've been largely following my diabetic diet and exercising and so far I've lost about 9 pounds. Whippidee-dee. I would love to say I've lost 20 or 30, but alas! Only 9. I've discovered it is really hard to lose weight when you are a diabetic. Sucky freaking genetics. Sigh.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A Big Step for Posterity

UPDATED: Well, I deleted the FaceBook icon from my iPhone. Why, you ask? Because unless I get my Diabetes under control, I will die early. Like maybe within a decade. But how does that relate to FB? Mmmmm, it doesn't really.

But what it does relate to is the amount of time I spend dinking around on it instead of exercising or writing on my blog or cooking healthy food instead of eating another Toaster Strudel (ooooh, the strawberry cream cheese.....mmmmmmm). Ok, you get the idea. This obviously not going to be easy. But I do hope for better days.

UPDATE: I've spent the evening working quite extensively on a food plan and found the *best* iPhone app for Diabetes control; it's called Diabetes Buddy which is a rather unfortunate name. However, it kicks the effeminate ass out of the other apps I've tried over the past couple years. The only thing this app does not do is tell me how many calories I've burned on my workout. Other than that, it tracks EVERYTHING- even how much water I drank today! And it has the best food database I've seen so far - and I'm talking I've had probably about 6 or 7 various programs with food databases! I am thrilled to the max. Now all I have to do is exercise and eat right tomorrow. And take my medicine. And be good. Whew, it'll be a chore with or without my new app! ;)


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Hunting Target

Once upon a time, we moved through the world around us without fear of noxious gas clouds on subways or gunmen lurking along the highway and even allowed our kids to go to school without the latest bullet proof jacket. But we live in a different world now. Whether it is the Islamist who may be secretly planning the next bio-terrorist event while giving us our change for coffee at the gas station or the quiet friend from a troubled family our kids bring home from school, we are faced with possible - and terrifying - threats to our security every day.

I remember in my bioethics class in college studying possible threats to our society and to what extent we would be willing to accept security trespasses to (almost) guarantee security, safety and most of all, not having to worry. Would we accept security cameras? Body searches? Secret surveillance? And ultimately, here we are all these years later debating the real question: what is the price we are willing to pay for the needful sense of security that enables us to snuggle in bed, smile as we send our kids off to school and drive to work unscathed?

The answer to this question is determined by the extent we have smelled danger lurking outside our own door. I lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma on April 19, 1995. It was around 9 o'clock, and I was heading over to the executive secretary's office to ask her a question. I walked in and instantly knew something was wrong. The President and Vice President of our company were tautly standing next to her desk and each person stared intently at a radio: The Alfred P Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City had just exploded. In utter terror we stood listening as horrific reports of the chaos and destruction as people ran for help, ran for safety, ran for friends, family, coworkers....just ran. Ditto the morning of September 11, 2001. I stood watching the news in our lunch room with the President and Controller of our company, wondering, et tu, Brute?

To me it all feels pretty darn close. Too close. So I am willing to pay for my unterrorized freedom by inconvenience, whether it is being scanned and people seeing my fat rolls or walking through the scanners at the county building. I don't want to be shot, I don't want people I love to be shot. I don't even want people I don't like to be shot. And for that, I'll pay the price.

Ahhh, finally!!

For those of you vain enough (dare I say it?) to use the location finder in BlogPress blogging app on the iPhone, please note: it doesn't freaking work! After weeks (or days....) of trying to get it OFF the blog I innocently tried to write a few weeks (or days...) ago, I finally had to just delete BlogPress off my phone and reload it, CAREFUL to make sure I TURNED OFF that option for my blog posts! You may note that I have used this feature in the past successfully. Alas, it was not to happen again and resulted in many unfulfilling moments in which I could have been blogging but instead spent 5 minutes saying "OK" to the continually repeating message that it couldn't find my location. Humbug!

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The word of the day is....

Ah, why is it that life is so wretchedly demandingly tiredly work???? I do believe I shall have to take a nap at my desk just to clear out all the darn thinking I did this morning. If only life as an adult could be as excitingly random and freakishly fun as being a child....long bike rides, traipsing my Barbie through the grass, letting my guinea pig Skipper run around in the yard, playing endless rounds of my made-up ball game where I would throw it against the wall and have to get it when it bounced off....these were the chores life had for me then. Sigh....