guilty...

my lady bits...

I couldn't decide what to wear yesterday and changed several times. I don't usually do this but this morning was different. I've had some stuff on my mind lately and so it has been difficult to concentrate on mundane things like clothes.

Sooo, as a woman, you not only have to change the top but what is underneath the top as well so you don't have a black bra under a white shirt thus looking like Madonna. I am dressed and out the door though still preoccupied. I am halfway to my destination when I stopped at Target for some gum. As I walked past a mirror I looked at it in horror seeing that I had worn a white bra under a navy blue loosely knit top - and with my knockers looked like two headlights looking for my destination in the fog. Curses.

I was far too distant from home to go change so I went into the dressing room to take the bra off thinking (in my emotional stupor) that I could go braless. Clearly, that was thirty years ago. This woman needs a crane and metal scaffolding to hold up these titties.

I am now braless skulking perilously through the bra department grabbing the 38Ds which are very hard to find because in Target most woman must be normal C cups. I find one in a silver grey. I grab it. Unlike Victoria's Secret shelf full of pricey boob-meisters, this one was only $14.99. I could justify this purchase.

I got to the car with my red and white Target bag forgetting that putting this on in the car is not going to be as easy as it may have been in the 80's. I strategically parked behind some pushes so the entire interstate wasn't privy to my boob job. Getting the white bra off was nothing compared to the nightmare of getting the other one on. Yes, it was too small. Are you kidding me? Do I have the biggest tits in Indiana or what? This is just wrong.

I put it on anyway. I slid it on backwards and then scooted it around and by this time I was sweating like a farm animal, and getting a heart-rate worthy of Zumba. It took five big pulls to switch it to the front but for a good five minutes had one cup heading North and one heading West. Everyone knows that boobs are supposed to be headed in the same direction at last after the bra goes on. 

After this ordeal, I knew I had no choice but to go home or head to Victoria and choke up $74 *which wasn't going to happen* since I had a draw full of decent Ds in my dresser.

I was late... but at least I had moral-boob-support.

Gahh.

a dreadly tale...

My granddaughter, Lily, has allergies and we were trying to find some medicine here at the house when she spent the night last night. Finally, I found some in my medicine cabinet. When I brought it out to her with a glass of water she said, "Nooo Non. I don't want your medicine. I really don't want my hair to fall out too."

And the fear trickles downward.

:/

And... my elbows were on the table.

I am hung up still on using the right fork. I wonder why?

Wow. #1

Master of glass...

DALE CHIHULY

Born in 1941 in Tacoma, Washington, Dale Chihuly was introduced to glass while studying interior design at the University of Washington. After graduating in 1965, Chihuly enrolled in the first glass program in the country, at the University of Wisconsin. He continued his studies at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), where he later established the glass program and taught for more than a decade.

In 1968, after receiving a Fulbright Fellowship, he went to work at the Venini glass factory in Venice. There he observed the team approach to blowing glass, which is critical to the way he works today. In 1971, Chihuly cofounded Pilchuck Glass School in Washington State. With this international glass center, Chihuly has led the avant-garde in the development of glass as a fine art.

His work is included in more than 200 hundred museum collections worldwide. He has been the recipient of many awards, including eleven honorary doctorates and two fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Chihuly has created more than a dozen well-known series of works, among them Cylinders and Basketsin the 1970s; Seaforms, Macchia, Venetians, and Persians in the 1980s; Niijima Floats and Chandeliersin the 1990s; and Fiori in the 2000s. He is also celebrated for large architectural installations. In 1986, he was honored with a solo exhibition, Dale Chihuly objets de verre, at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Palais du Louvre, in Paris. In 1995, he began Chihuly Over Venice, for which he created sculptures at glass factories in Finland, Ireland, and Mexico, then installed them over the canals and piazzas of Venice.

In 1999, Chihuly mounted a challenging exhibition, Chihuly in the Light of Jerusalem; more than 1 million visitors attended the Tower of David Museum to view his installations. In 2001, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London curated the exhibition Chihuly at the V&A. Chihuly’s lifelong fascination for glasshouses has grown into a series of exhibitions within botanical settings. His Garden Cycle began in 2001 at the Garfield Park Conservatory in Chicago. Chihuly exhibited at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, near London, in 2005. Other major exhibition venues include the de Young Museum in San Francisco, in 2008, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, in 2011. Chihuly Garden and Glass opened at Seattle Center in 2012.

chihuly.com

William Judd...

Such a sweet boy. I can't believe he is one... so much ahead of him to enjoy.

speak to me, Marvin...

India-crapolis...

Our medical practices? Not impressed. In most cities on the west coast you are sent home with a complete team after a diagnosis of cancer. I was sent home with an arm full of abhorrent chemicals and a phone number, "just in case". On the west coast, you are blanketed with nutritionists, psychologists, and encouraged to go to support groups. I was sent home with the constipation of fear in a dark room of ignorance and mayhem.

Thank God for youtube.com

Pathetic.

perspective in excellence...

Only in the Olympics do you find the twelfth best in a sport in a country of 22 million people to suck the big one.

That's just wrong.

tennis...

I go in for the big check-up on Wednesday and am not looking forward to it. I do fine as long as I don't have to think about having cancer, but if I dwell too much on it I get the creeps. I did cardio tennis today with a bunch of mean girls who were my daughter's age. I killed it in the tennis department but getting to the damn ball was another thing entirely. I don't think the mean girls were aware of just how much these dreadly chemicals do to your energy level - not to mention, I am an unhealthy senior citizen who insists on not being sick. I am not myself and will be taking a long nap this afternoon.

I felt old and foolish, but I did it anyway. I plan on looking old and foolish as long as I feel like it. They can take their little sorority swagger and shut the front door.

So much for feeling normal and forty.

Will is stylin' at a pre-birthday party shopping spree!

Will=copasetic

more Feldman talent...

hilarious!

I've never seen a child love music more than our Charlie! I guess it pays to have Dave Matthews as his back-up. 

I hope they think this of me after I'm gone. 

I love this.

endstart

what came before endures behind
was and is are merely states of mind
nothing that is gone is lost
everything renews, and in December’s frost
are memories of dews to which we woke
in May from dreams that presaged
the dawning of the day that only death can bring;
stars explode the night in fireworks
to light our way through time, and time
returns upon itself in every birth of mind;
that which was hid is evermore revealed
and what was sealed in lips or tombs
will speak again within the wombs of earth
there is no dearth of hope so long as soul
can clap its hands and sing, there is no end
of anything so long as there is spring

Stephen J. Rivele

not-so-empty-nest...

We had a big birthday weekend for our grandson Will. I was in bed half asleep only to realize that my granddaughter, Lily, had crawled in next to me to snuggle. I woke up in the middle of the night to her sister and dad as well, and at that point found myself crunched into a corner. I kinda love my life even if I had to sleep on the couch downstairs. It doesn't get better than a sleepover of your people when there aren't even enough beds to go around. Maybe I like it that way.

ah, the talent.

Olympic Gold or pole dancing? I haven't decided.

after...

This was the day when I knew I would be okay. In a weird way, cancer was the best thing that ever happened to me. I miss my brown hair, but looking back at this after-chemo photo makes me appreciate being alive. I can see peace in my face even with the eyebrows sketched on. Take time to feel your life. Don't just breeze through wasting time bitching about the stupid things. Please?

oops...

My neighbor came over to swim with her students this week. I love this woman and she is a good friend. She is Christian in a way that makes me realize that indulging in my dirty mouth doesn't feel right, and so I edit my trucker-self around her. It isn't that we can't be friends, but she is more fundamentally religious, and I know this.

The morning of the swim party, I took a few minutes to myself and had a nice cup-a-joe while sitting on the chaise in the backyard. It was a lovely morning and I was glad that I could open my house for my friend and her students from the private Christian school nearby. I didn't go to the party because it was just for her teachers and the fifth graders. As I watched them frolicking, I smiled knowing it was a nice gesture by sharing my pool. It was a beautiful morning until I realized that I had left something sinister on the back table.

oops.

twelve days...

Just do something creative to have your twelve days. I did.

Every four years...

Such an honor to carry the Dustbuster for her team; she is the second woman to ever compete, and is 11th after the first round of finals... could be some nerves; she needs to stay loose... after all, she has the fastest time ever since the world championship;  it is the 4x100 and three girlfriends show up to help. S.W. has the anchor and is in much better standing after the last round of scrubbing and scouring. There are only two chances for the final this afternoon and she has already scored a 6.5; such pressure, but turns out to be a text book vacuum and Mr. Clean lemony-scent-finish. The gauntlet toilet brush has been laid and with a champion double-back sheen and some Gold medal elbow-grease there is an Olympic photo finish. The crowd swells in applause as she receives her soap-on-a-rope Gold. She shall now be known as S.W. Bolt.

Too much TV?

Edward Burns

Oh, so talented. One of the best writers in Hollywood. He's got it all...  and then some. (Ok, I'm guilty. Maybe it's not the writing but the dimples? There is something about a smile.)

Stop...

trying to change people around you. You can't make a dog into a cat or a cat into a horse. If you want a dog and your partner is a horse you should have thought of that and never married them. This is the reason most people divorce. You can't change anyone but yourself.

and they're off...

Leo

This is downright fascinating. I was supposed to clean today and (uh) I think I broke Rule #1 by watching this instead:

Leo Tolstoy, Eighteenth of April, 1847

"I want to add one rule only… first rule which I prescribe is as follows: "Carry out everything you have resolved must be carried out. I haven't carried out this rule."

(I can't believe this was a quote by such a literary man. I think he "carried" it too far.)

Date night...

Maizie really needs to get it on. It's been too hot to cuddle this summer.

Chicago boys...

I got to babysit the boys this weekend. How cute is this?

uh, yea.

Mastery of Love...

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes... 

The Four Agreements...

Whoa. I have work to do. This is my quest.

Eat real food!

I miss him.