Rapier's Wit

That's quite a lofty concept. If only it were true. Love is not blind, either. Love in its purest form works. Much like communism in it's purest (totally unattainable) form would have been ideal. But you see where pursuit of that particular brand of nirvana went. Here's a question for all the single, married or otherwise involved/uninvolved people out there: If you were pursuing someone who you knew to be forthright, compassionate, trustworthy, honest, hard working, humorous, intelligent -- all the qualities that make up a genuine human being -- Would that be adequate to sustain the relationship? Would their company, intellectual stimulation be enough? Would that satisfy your deepest needs. Or, would the relationship be doomed; lack viability if sex wasn't an integral part of the union? Think about it a few minutes. Enjoy the music while you ponder this weighty topic: Jeopardy Theme - Jeopardy Time is up. What is your first instinct answer? Here's what I'm thin...

I've never played poker. In general, outside of go-fish, crazy 8s or war , I haven't a clue about card games. With that in mind, I wouldn't know a good hand if it was nestled in my sweet hands. I'm a terrible liar; therefore, my poker face is nonexistent. You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em, Know when to walk away and know when to run. You never count your money when youre sittin at the table. There'll be time enough for countin when the dealins done Last night it came to me that a recent event in my life took me down a road of poker metaphors. I think talking about Las Vegas with my Mom put me on this course. At the time this all came to me I was trying to fall asleep. I've been wearing a pretty intense poker face for months. I don't know how I've managed to keep a straight face, but I had been riding it out like a World Series of Poker Champ. As a result, I've maintained a firm grip (oddly) on living a fantasy, of sorts. I knew ...

One day maybe it'll be fulfilled. Thanks for understanding. Thank you for the compassion. Thank you if you actually visit this little blog of mine.

This is just too juicy not to share. I didn't check snopes.com for validity. It'd ruin the fun. I'm grateful my son wasn't around to hear my reaction when I opened these photos sent to me via email. R-I-D-I-C-U-L-O-U-S! I didn't say ridiculous, but a word within the word ridiculous was muttered along with some other colorful words. Something else I would like to say to this doofus: Give your lay-dee the courtesy of being clean shaven. Take a look at her chest and thighs. This is a good place for Neet! Veet! Nads! Hell, Lady Gillette, even. This is proof that some people never learn when to say when. Enough is enough. JEEZ!

... actually, there was dry ice in the house. Complements of NutriSystem. It's not often that I end up in an elite or select few who is chosen to participate in something fantabulous. Granted, I would have much rather won tickets to see George Michael in concert. Or, handed a gazillian free flyer miles so I could join my Stuck in the 80s pals in Vegas. That being said, I am not complaining that I'm part of the 1,000 folks who'll be taste testing a new entree format for the diet gurus of NutriSystem. Cool, huh? Fourteen freebie frozen food entrees. Fabulous! At least I hope they are fabulous. I have to hope my keen taste buds are up to the challenge. The future of dieting is at the mercy of my tongue! Perhaps not that dramatic, but ain't it cool? I was informed that I'd receive an email telling me when my food would be shipped. Since it was frozen and packed in dry ice (hence why we had dry ice in the house), I would need to be home to get it out of the packaging and...

This blog was in dire need of some levity. Discuss. Talk amongst yourselves. This discovery is from flickr.com. What provoked me to image Google apple bottoms ? The fact that I was told by a completely hetero female yesterday that I had a great @ss. Whoa! Whodathunkit? I knew I had a some junk in the trunk; bodunkadunk action, I never considered it to be great. So, while I take a big ol' bite out of that slice of flattery, you enjoy the photo.

[l to r: Man-cub, Me, feet walking behind the banner: Kris & Alisa, Justin (holding the banner), Maureen and Michael] " When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high. And don't be afraid of the dark." It seems that whenever I encounter a difficult time in my life I turn to the wise words of Rogers and Hammerstein . In the musical Carousel, Aunt Nettie sings this to Julie after her beloved dies. Billy Bigelow was not a sainted man. He had many flaws, but one thing was made abundantly clear: He loved his family. No truer words could be said about the father of my nephews. He was not perfect. He made errors. He loved, admired and bragged about his boys whenever given the opportunity. They are fabulous young men. My sister's influence is ever present. I adore them as if they were my own children. Funny. Quirky. Intelligent. Awesome. " At the end of the storm is a golden sky. And the sweet silver song of a lark." I have to remind myself of those wor...

Nearly a week ago I participated in the annual Relay For Life walk. I've done the walk in the past, but always as part of another team. I hopped in because cancer's nasty curse has devilishly embraced too many family members and loved ones. It's the least I can do. I pray that I remain healthy. Each year the Relay is held at Bishop MacNamara Catholic High School. It's a safe place for this event. There's no walking around town or blocking side streets. The track is updated compressed rubber surface. I'm sure there's a technical term for it. All I know is that it coddled my knees. I had the energy to keep on truckin' well into the night and early morning. My sister Maureen, a cancer survivor, had a dream of always having her own team. This year, Team " Hunger for a Cure " took to the track with laughter in our hearts and tears in our eyes . Sadly, the walk came on the heals of her husband's death. Still freshly mourning, we made the tr...

No, I'm not a bimbo. At least not by the current standards of bimbo. I'm a flirt. I do believe there is an enormous gap between being a bimbo and a flirt. If there's not; there should be. I was doing my daily ritual of Googling something. Anything. Tonight's choice was legs. However, I typo ed and typed in lets. And what did I spy with my little eye? The image you see to the right. Disturbing. Very. Apparently there is a legitimate (loosely used phrase) that encourages girls to explore their inner bimbo. Thanks Paris, LiLo, Kim, Britney, Cast of The Hills . You've successfully made it socially acceptable to be a hoo-er. Skanky. Ridiculous. And someone is profiting from the ignorance and stupidity. ABC News online reports that the primary users of this website are primarily teenagers, but as young as age 8. The report from March, 2008 states there are over 200,000 users. Excuse me while I go toss my dinner. No, I'm not practicing a trendy Hollywood C...

Yep, you read it correctly. I received a major league sized pearl necklace last night. I had to beg for it. Initially the guy was only willing to toss me a little one. I wasn't going to settle. I'm a girl with a huge personality. I wanted a necklace that suits me. Then, with my little eye I spied the UBER sized purple one you see pictured. It was in the wee hours of the morning of Relay for Life and I was exhausted! However, running on nothing but adrenaline and caffeine, I pushed myself to keep on rawkin'! I wasn't alone. Dozens of other people were trying to keep the levity and spirit of the occasion exciting. Lap after lap. I'd been dancing and jumping around while the band Take Over played. The po-po, the 5-0 had come in to tell them to take it from 11 to 3. Apparently there is a city ordinance or something nutty that won't let that much sound permeate the air after midnight. I didn't get it because this was just one night. A special occasion! A gather...

Saying good bye on a daily basis is never difficult. Knowing that when you say "see ya!" or "take care ... I'll talk to you soon" you will, under normal circumstances do just that. My sister and her husband always signed notes to each other with SYLLYBYE . It's an acronym for: S ee Y ou L ater, L ove Y ou, B ye. And then, there are those times when you know it's final and there isn't a response. It is then that we leave it up to God to take the message to the loved one you're saying good bye to. I am finding it frustrating dealing with just that. I don't doubt that God has many messengers that will take a message to someone who had been a part of my life for nearly 30 years. I'm currently wishing that I could get a notice of receipt. You know how the United States Postal Service (for a small fee) will get a signature upon receipt. Then, you can rest assured the parcel or letter is given directly to the addressee. So, I'm pretty sure G...

To John: May you finally have peace.

Maybe I'm just a prude. Or perhaps I'm a wimp to pain, but I find this incredibly disturbing. So much that I found it necessary to share it with you.

This song is exactly why I am opposed to cover versions. That's not to say there aren't some really well done remakes available, ie, Chris Cornell doing Billy Jean , Nouvelle Vague reinventing Dancing with Myself. Some dingaling stripper type from the grotesquely over rated Pussycat Dolls named Nicole Scherzinger had the freakin' audacity to think she could bring new life to my beloved Duran Duran 's Rio. Good Lord, it's bad. I can't even bring myself to put up a sample or the video. You click the link and consider yourself warned. ACK! Enough is enough! It didn't need a new breath. I loved it just the way it was. I'm appalled that the boys permitted it. Ugh! So, I'm often forced to listen to the country music station at work. I don't mind those novelty hootenanny songs, but when country music takes itself seriously I draw the line. When country music artists take liberty of adding their twangalangin' tones to a pop song, it tends to cau...

"There were two gangs. One dressed in red, the other in blue. I was in the middle of it all. I was in the middle of it. I was ordered to protect the doctor from Scrubs ... the one who had problems naming his baby (Cox). The weirdest thing was we were protecting a pair of shorts. They were made of this expensive, highly coveted cotton." That's what results when you let your child watch " HELLBOY " on Netflix prior to going to bed. And you are an avid viewer of Scrubs reruns on Comedy Central. And you make him go shopping with you for swim shorts.

Yes, that's right, Sears. Where, I believe, Cheryl Tiegs sold her goods. Sears where you can buy a thong, a Craftsman ratchet set, and pay on your Discover card. Good ol' trusty Sears had swimsuits 50% off. I was determined not to give up on finding swimwear that suits my body. Nor was I willing to succumb to my own irrational self-conscious vanity. Enough is enough. Fat girls get hot, too. Probably more so than those skinny minnies who tan year 'round and eat little to nothing. And I can't really compare myself to a youthful twink who has never given birth, stood on her feet for 8 plus hours a day for 28 years or came to realize that exercise and diet are no longer optional. I needed a swift kick in the arse. I was veering too far off track. I was losing sight of my goal toward a healthier life. It's not just about vanity ... this diet thing, that is. Yesterday's swimsuit fiasco provided me with two things: 1) A kick in the fat fanny, and 2) I need to realize ...

...and both of them tell me that I'm a long way from baring my body in public. UGH! ARGH! I promised the Man-cub that we'd go to the local water park. It ain't much, but it has cool water that appears clean. Plus, he loves it and I love him. Prior to the water park jaunt he had a dental appointment. I was still without board shorts and figured I could make do with some swimsuit tankini top off the rack. No, they never fit my rack , but I'd suffer along with anyone who saw me. I didn't want to blow a lot of cash and that means shopping at the big K. First, all the board shorts were stupid. Nothing remotely appealing. Why is it so hard to just buy something in basic black? I don't need over sized cargo pockets on board shorts. Who the hell would shove anything of that size in a pocket that is going to take a watery trip? It's not like a man packs his phone, iPod, keys, or wallet in swim shorts! Anyway, the bottom line is that I have really shitty legs. It'...