I remember you. I dream of you. And, I remember you. My memories of you are heavy. How much do illusions weigh? My memory is selective. What do I forget when I remember you? I need to know. Because, I remember you.
Following Jackie's lead, I finally decided to take a go at La Duchesse's TGBOL prompt for the week* because, hey, quirkiness is something this chick can totally get behind. I like quirk. And, if you like quirk, I'm happy to share mine. I hope you will too. 1/Music: Is it possible to get any quirkier than Disco?… Continue reading Quoth the Quirky
What's your immediate response when someone tells you that you're beautiful? Do you scoff and shake your head? Do you assume that they're just paying lip service or trying to butter you up? Are they stupid or simply mistaken? Are they a liar? We are compelled to love our neighbors. Encouraged to see the beauty in… Continue reading When Someone Calls You *Beautiful*
I swan, nothing sets my teeth on edge like the disappearance of titles and honorifics in our current society. [I offer a hearty "thank you" to Mr. Dad over'ta thedaddyblitz for reminding me of this particular peeve in a recent blog entry.] Lordy, I know that I sound old writin' this, but, back in my day we used them or… Continue reading The Death of [Ms.] Manners
I'll tell you what. Some days just aren't worth getting outta bed for, ya' know? As positive and optimistic as this peppy chick strives to be, some days just do their d*mndest to prove my Silver Lining theory W-R-O-N-G. These are the days when I hafta put on my Scarlet O'Hara bonnet and remind myself that the… Continue reading Ever Have One of Those Days?
Anyone who has children knows that the whole nature vs. nurture argument is practically moot. No matter on which side of the argument your loyalties tend to be, your own children are likely to make you question your own position. According to Saul McLeod, In practice hardly anyone today accepts either of the extreme positions. There… Continue reading Nature vs. Nurture
The Wolfe once declared that you can't go home again, but I've found that to be painfully untrue. Here, in the early dusk of Life, Loved Ones continue to fade away ... like leaves and first loves and morning glories under the setting sun. Each sad and grateful passing beckons my beleaguered bones back to the bittersweet haunts of my very first Grand Adventures.… Continue reading Death Calls Me Home
One of my earliest fangirl crushes, Prince, has died. Regardless of what you thought of his ever-morphing sound, he was an incredibly gifted artist and shrewd business person. His fluid style and illusive personality drew fans of all ilks and accolades from the four corners of the globe. His passing is a terribly shameful loss. Requiescat… Continue reading G’night, Sweet Prince
So, my spice took me to New York last week to see Jessica Lange performing with an ensemble cast to die for [or drool over, depending on your bent] in Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night. A magnificent four-hour free-fall into the unpalatable bowels of addiction, depression and blame. It was wonderful! You can check out… Continue reading 5 Things this Texan Discovered in New York