Rapier's Wit

Meet You At The Moon - Imelda ... Color me shmoopy. Say I'm hypnotized by the glorious full moon. This song just popped up on my playlist. It's as lovely as the moonlit night.

This has been melodically looping in my head since early this morning.  I finally had to listen to it. I think it shall be my new ringtone.  2010 (twenty-ten? two thousand ten?) will be a year of positivity and good vibes, my friends. This should start it off quite nicely. " How can I tell you about my loved one ?"

It's officially New Year's Eve '09. Currently, I am overcome with a fit of the weepies.  Waking at 4:00 AM might have something to do with it. Sleep deprivation seems like a good source of blame. But that's not why I feel overwhelmed with the power of emotion.  My heart and soul are whirling in a cacophony of feelings. All of this was set forth after a morning of volleying emails with that friend I've reconnected with after years of wondering how he has been since graduation.  For that alone I am glad I couldn't sleep in this morning. While I am looking forward to what 2010 will bring, I am riddled with anxiety to bid 2009 farewell.  That's not to say '09 has been nothing but a big party.  This year has been a psychosensory roller coaster.  But on that ride of twists and turns there has been tremendous personal growth.  I think this has been my best year ever in that regard. That is not to say '09 hasn't been difficult.  Two close friends hav...

The new year is quickly approaching. In fact, it's so close I can hear the clicking of its stiletto heels on the pavement. New Year's Eve is very much like a Hollywood starlet with all the glitz and glamour of a red carpet event.  In she strolls and all the attention is on her.  So much is expected from this beauty.  Then, at least for me, reality strikes when she opens her mouth ... all the build up was for naught. She's just another girl wearing a form fitting designer gown on loan from Valentino and borrowed jewels from Harry Winston. Stripped down and without all the hype, we realize it's just the turning of a page on the calendar.  Well, that and we have to get accustomed to writing another date on checks. I do not fancy New Year's Eve.  There. I said it. Call me envious or jaded.  It's rare if ever that I have plans to celebrate the new year.  In this decade there has been only one occasion that I wasn't at home with my son.  It was 2001. ...

It's Sunday.  Oh how I love this day of rest ... wait a minute! I don't get to rest today. The work schedule demands that I be there. The after glow of Christmas day remains.  It was filled with surprises for Mancub and me.  Christmas eventually proves to be a special time of year once you cut through the layers of impatient shoppers, shifting of funds and frustration of not being able to find the perfect gift for someone on your list.  Mancub wanted me to make it clear that he didn't completely say the word crap in his excitement over the Wii. " I stopped myself mom. " To him, it's a swear word even though it's commonly thrown around (even by yours truly). He didn't want it on record that he sounds like a degenerate. As if! The warm embrace of the words written in the book I received for Christmas continues to envelope me like a warm bubble bath ... .... I hope it can keep me warm as I step into the 16° temps to make my way to work today.

So, those are not the most eloquent words ever exclaimed on Christmas morning, but it was a sentiment of true surprise. My son had no idea what he was getting today. He's fully aware of the challenges I meet each month financially. He's never been a gimme gimme kid. He's joyful no matter the gift. I gave him games to go with the Wii before he unwrapped the console. I feigned surprise that I grabbed the wrong game system versions." Oh, poo! Well, you can exchange them for PS2." His reply was not surprising, "Well, my cousins have Wii systems. Maybe they'd like them as gifts." It was then when I got up and reached behind the couch to reveal yet another gift. He noticed how heavy it was when I sat it on his lap. He screwed up his face in wonder. Here's the result: Additionally, Mancub is the proud owner of a Trek bike. Santa has some amazing elves, let me tell you. I prefer to call them Heaven's angels on Earth. This spring I hope to...

Merry Christmas.  Go grab a cup of cheer, sit back and listen to me babble on video. As usual, I had nothing planned beyond my bedazzled attire.  May this not bring you nightmares of gorged sugar plum zombies.  I'll try to be funnier next year.

I'm feeling anxious and full of angst.  My pulse is racing but not in an excited, joyful manner.  I'm pretty sure it's not a rush of caffeine. I had less than usual. Maybe it's just residual spazattack from yesterday's onslaught of visually impaired people requiring new spectacles two days before Christmas. Perhaps it's concern over the weather (ice storm and flooding) potentially preventing Mancub and I traveling on Christmas day.  Possibly -- most likely -- it's caused from not being able to afford gifts for my family members.  Normally I would overextend my checking account just to save the embarrassment of admitting I don't have money to make purchases for anyone other than my son.  With the cutbacks at work, that was hardly manageable and I thank God for the angels in my life. This year I baked.  As I said in an earlier post celebrating our cookie creations, I've never made sugar cookies from scratch.  We baked a fresh batch and colorfully de...

This song was part of a program encouraging adoption. "A Home for the Holidays" was a presentation lead by Faith Hill to honor The Dave Thomas Foundation . When the singer/songwriter Michael Franti told his own story about being adopted, it brought a flutter to my heart. Then, as he sang this beautiful song there were snippets of children awaiting adoption ... children who've been in over five homes in a year's time. That's when the tears really began to flow. The lyrics of this song are simple; yet, they speak volumes. He's managed to put to verse what I feel in my heart about close friendships that simply cannot be defined or labeled. Merry Christmas.

Both of my parents instilled in me the belief in miracles and angels.  My mother was more likely to tell me a story about a harrowing event in her life where her guardian angel protected her from harm. My father, on the other hand, was more philosophical in his telling of incidents that solidified his belief in a higher being.  Our family was loosely Catholic. Read: Lots of the guilt inducing practices and none of the church-going, sacramental requirements.  Regardless of the methods and theories taught, we were a spiritual clan with the ability to find reason and cause to why we were fortunate in the face of often dismal times. I recall as a little girl my mother telling me to always listen to the little voices in my head because that was my guardian angel giving me direction. "She knows better than you do. So don't ignore her."  In my child-like mind's eye, angels have always been filmy, beautiful, ethereal beings with wings and halos.  That is, after all, ...

I pray that PETM (People for the Ethical Treatment of Muppets) doesn't come hunting for me.  I'm convinced that one -- or four -- of Jim Henson's creations was killed to make my warm, cozy, very pink house socks (that's what the tag read -- house socks).  Is it possible that a cute and delightful entertainer of children was sacrificed for the comfort of my tootsies? Perhaps a kinfolk to Elmo?

A couple of weeks ago the temperatures here took a swift dip into the danger zone. Like it is often, the wind chill factor was the real culprit.  Gusts up to 50 mph hour were predicted. Business at the work place was dreadfully slow.  So slow that my presence was not required.  Suddenly I had a free day and the baking bug bit me.  Beyond boxed brownies and a bi-yearly batch of Toll House Cookies, this girl doesn't bake.  My kitchen is lucky if it ever sees a spatter of olive oil. I cook out of necessity. But holiday baking? Get out of the city! I bundled myself up and head out into the blustery, frigid day.  My intention was to buy the pre-fab sugar cookie dough in the tube, but as I made my way through the store I had collected ingredients to bake from scratch.  I felt my head for fever. Then, I thought perhaps all of this was a dream and I'd awaken in my warm cozy bed.  Upon departing the store it was obvious that I was wide awake because the ...

This hardly takes any time to do and it might mean the world to the recipient.

Sue Ellen practiced in the mirror for months prior to her Senior photo shoot. I think she nailed it. Work it, super girl! photo found on http://www.pizzacomedy.com/

It's Sunday morning and all I hear is the hum of the furnace. When I awoke before 6 AM, I got my coffee brewing and crawled back into bed. A half hour later it was apparent that dozing off wasn't going to happen.  Once my brain is alerted that it's a new day it just won't shut off.  By nature I am not a list maker, but jotting mental notes is not unheard of. The bad thing about that is the task needs to be committed right away or it will be forgotten.  Tiny Post-It Notes line my computer monitor. Sometimes the notations actually make enough sense to jar my memory.  One of them says "new coffee pot."  The current model makes the java juice OK, but it leaks all over the counter.  I have an incontinent coffee maker.  Bounty Paper Towels to the rescue.  While laying in bed, the thought occurred to me to price Keurigs .  I know they are pricey, but a girl can dream.  This line of thinking drove me to daydream about other small appliances t...

Twenty-six and a half or so years ago I stood alone on a stage wearing a lovely costume while a spotlight shone upon me. My character, Helen, had finally come to grips with the fact that the subject of her affections would never be hers to have and to hold.  She gracefully accepts her fate and with morose resolve sings : I have wished before, I will wish no more. Love, look away! Love, look away from me. Fly, when you pass my door, Fly and get lost at sea. Call it a day. Love, let us say we're through. No good are you for me, No good am I for you. Wanting you so, I try too much. After you go, I cry too much. Love, look away. Lonely though I may be, Leave me and set me free, Look away, look away, look away... from... me. There's no psychotic outburst that one might see portrayed today.   Helen, dejected, walks away with only the memory of hope ... her head held high. Little did I realize when I was cast in that role that my own life would lead a ...

If good parenting was judged by the number of photos of my child scattered about the home, I would be one giant failure.  Oh, it's not that I don't have pictures of my son.  I have tons of them ... in a big box in the closet.  There's a most recent photo of him that sits on my bookshelf.  There are always promises made to myself that I'll get photo albums and frames, but that's yet to happen.  One day ... What brought this line of thinking about was my scrounging through the big box of photos this morning. With Christmas staring me in the face, I remembered the cutest pictures taken of Mancub when he was 5 years old. A photography studio was called upon at his pre-k to take memorable Christmas photos.  Seeing them always brings forth a giant puddle of tears.  Where has that little boy gone? Imagine Chevy Chase as Clark Griswold in Christmas Vacation when he's holed up in the attic ... blubbering like a fool as he views a movie from his childhood....

Fun Slides Carpet Skates : Make sure your insurance is paid up and get your stories straight before taking the kids to the emergency room. I'm sure my brother would just love if I sent his 3 boys each a pair of these to use in the same room the HDTV is housed. HD Vision Night Wraparounds This item is perfect for the guy who buys the sports car when he's in denial of his mid-life crisis. All the young babes will be salivating when he walks through the doors of the club wearing these over his no-line bifocal specs. Nothing says "I'll be your sugar daddy" like these urine colored lenses. Lens Doctor DO NOT USE THIS CRAP! I cannot stress this enough. You might as well throw the $14.95 it costs directly into a shredder. Your lenses will be ruined and then you'll come to me at my place of business frustrated that I can't remove the dried goop on the lenses that causes you severely blurred vision. S'Mores Maker Really? Are you that much of a d...

Last year I didn't even bother putting up a Christmas tree.  The year prior, kitties decided that knocking ornaments off and destroying them was a far better idea than just admiring them as they dangled from the twinkling branches.  With twenty more days before the mythical fat-man descends from his toy shop in the frozen tundra of the North Pole, I figured my weekend off could be spent trying to turn our domicile into a place of festive lights and adornment.  The tree will likely be left out another year.  Our cats may be older, but they are still creatures of nature with an inclination to climb and toy with anything that wiggles. So, with Mancub's small collection of nutcrackers displayed, I think we can make a go of putting forth the image that the Christmas spirit is alive and well at Casa Marissa. I'll string lights where the cats can't bother them, as well as, garland around the tops of the windows.  Majestic? Not hardly. I know for certain that my on...

A moment is all it takes . This is not a new concept, but it's something requiring self reminding.  In the blink of an eye tragedy can strike. That's the way of the world.  When that happens we often reflect upon the importance of the people in our lives. A life altering incident causes our lifetimes to flash before our eyes as we grasp for something positive.  Such a situation didn't happen.  This isn't a cause for concern out of the norm.  I apologize if this initially heightened your worry censors. I'm fine. Mancub is doubly fine.  The moment in time that is the subject is the good moments.  We all (hopefully) have those seconds in the day that manage to put a beautiful spin on what seems to have been filled with sighs of mundane. Earlier this morning I took a silly Facebook quiz to determine my real age.  Biologically I'm 44.  I have no qualms about aging, but it was something fun to do that my life long friend had already participated...

I just called work to see when they'd need me today.  My original start time of 10 AM is being pushed back to Noon. While the rest of the retail world is being given a jump start by Black Friday, the world of optics takes a crash course in the harmonies of crickets chirping.  I've already showered.  Sitting here in my robe with wet hair; a cute kitten curled up on my lap, I have to ask what else do I need?  Another cup of coffee preferably delivered to me by a loving, hunky man who understands that kittens on laps are best left undisturbed.  Yep. I'm daydreaming again.  While I know there's a perfect bra out there for me so is the ideal man.  Perhaps the two will be found on the same day. Choirs of angels sing as the heavens open up with a hallelujah chorus. The playful melody of "All I Want For Christmas Is You" keeps ringing through my head.  I can't help it. There's no shame in having a one track mind, is there?  After all, it could be s...

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." -- Douglas Adams That quote was on my Facebook page today. I have a feed from the "quote of the day" website. On this Thanksgiving it seemed perfectly suited for me ... for anyone, really.  Think back to your teen years, twenty-something, thirty-something, etc... are you exactly where you dreamed you'd be? I'm most certainly not, but there's no question that we can't predict the future nor can we count on tomorrow.  Am I disappointed that my aspirations of being a doctor of psychology didn't pan out? Sure. Am I aggravated that I'm still not with the father of my son? Sort of. There's no going back -- only looking forward and dealing with the here and now. Today brought a painful reminder of something I said only moments ago: Tomorrow is never guaranteed. I visited the cemetery again.  The purpose was to fulfill a promise made to a very dea...

I get geeked out on some unexpected things.  Some people get razzle dazzled over new tech devices. Others do a dance of joy over the crossword in the New York Times.  I, on the other hand, get a badoozled and dillywomped over eggnog.  Eggnoggity goodness of any variety: Ice cream, cheesecake, McDonald's Shakes.  That's what brought all of this on today.  I stopped by McDonald's to get Mancub a burger (icky, I know) and a chocolate shake.  It's a big dealio for me to get him this. So, don't call the Department of Children and Family Services on me just yet.  When I saw the words "EGG NOG SHAKES NOW AVAILABLE" I nearly piddled on my heated leather seats.  I practiced restraint and only got a small. mmmmm noggy.  I was full from my late lunch (3:30 PM) and had no desire to eat anything at 5:00 PM, but good giggly goo! I could easily sip the frosty beverage.  I was wet from the pouring rain and chilled to the bone, but with the heat cranked ...

I've probably given the impression that I'm not a shop-a-holic. Finding styles that I like in my size isn't limited to bras. I'm tall and have plenty of junk in my trunk.  That combo makes finding really stylish clothing a hassle. But my dislike of shopping isn't limited to personal fashions.  What's involved in shopping is a lot of math. Meaning I deliberate thusly: I worked X number of hours to earn the money item Q costs. No item is alluring to me unless a deep discount is attached to it.  If I'm not going to get tons of use out of the item I usually pass it by.  Grocery shopping makes me break out in hives... Thank you ALDI for making this experience less itchy and scratchy. I'm big fan of shopping online. Quite often I can find items far less expensive than what's available in stores. I watch for FREE SHIPPING and easy returns.  A rush overcomes me when I get to the check out and it ask "do you have a coupon" -- and I DO!! But when ...

With Thanksgiving quickly approaching we're reminded that it's not about an endless buffet of food, football and sleeping on the couch in an upright position with our pants unbuttoned. Nor is it about plotting and planning the insanity that is shopping on Black Friday.  No. We're supposed to count our blessings and remind ourselves of the sacrificed our forefathers made to build this country -- and to give thanks to the Native Americans who were duped into giving it all away, but I digress.  All you history majors just put a lid on it. I'm on a roll like Bluto in Animal House. But I like to be a visionary.  I don't want to blather on about the typical thankfulness for my family, health, friends and roof over my head. Isn't that a given? Gratitude is tallied up daily for all the things I do possess. It would be too predictable for me to wish for world peace, the end to hunger and prejudice -- this isn't a beauty pageant, after all. Don't get all high an...

Ho, ho, ho, and falalalala abound no matter where I turn.  Santa made his arrival at the mall yesterday. I thought the old, jolly fat man wasn't allowed to make an appearance prior to Black Friday.  Economic strain has overridden tradition, I guess.  Christmas parades are commencing a week early, too. Once again my holiday equilibrium is thrown off. Growing up, our household traditions were upheld by Mom. We always turned to her to keep the season merry and bright.  When she passed away after a short battle with cancer, nothing was the same. It was enough to attempt to pull ourselves together emotionally let alone try to carry on the traditions that Mom made so perfect. Those traditions couldn't be carried out if she wasn't there to execute them. As I've matured and built a household of my own, I've been incapable of duplicating the spirit that Mom embodied.  When I was married and had a newborn child, the hope of creating our own traditions filled me with s...

When I read the first 3 words of my horoscope this morning my heart went pitter patter. It was quickly replaced by a sense of panic. I work in a mall. Do you realize the number of freakazoids who meander the corridors of a mall? I work where we're on display like poo-flinging monkeys in the zoo! I have no idea who might be gazing at me. I'd die a thousand deaths if it's Mullet man. Seriously, if that was the case I'd pull a Samurai suicide with a dull butter knife. A certain someone -- after yet another day of boring through your soul with their penetrating glances -- will finally approach you and say what's on their mind: you! If you're unattached and interested, this could be the one. You know, The One! For good measure, how about returning a few intense stares yourself? Just don't be surprised when once the staring begins, few words are exchanged. I've not been feeling a penetration of any sort lately... glances or otherwise. There's no doubt th...

I realize the content of this blog, lately, is best described as textual boredom. I'd offer an apology, however, I am one of those people who can't force inspiration. And to be quite honest, I have no idea if anyone beyond a handful are continuing to read my personal blathering. When your life consists of getting up, making coffee; checking (and hoping) for emails that aren't spam ie. Urban Word of the Day, Amazon.com or forwards about it being the 52nd friendship week of the year; getting ready for work; working; coming home from work; making dinner... you get the idea. My life isn't action packed. I could piss and moan about work but that doesn't bode well when you're trying to make the workplace more harmonious. Not to mention comments would come from the wood work to chastise me for not being more grateful at this time of year. To which I would annoyingly reply, "suck it, Trebek!" Mancub is fantastic and performing phenomenally well academic...

Handerpants ! Handerpants !! HANDERPANTS !!! Great for the aspiring magician, magician's assistant, booger flicker, gardener, weed wacking (not recommended for other wacking -- the cotton is soft, but not that soft -- wink wink .) Folks, this is for real. It's no Chia Pet or Pet Rock, but wouldn't it make a perfect stocking stuffer for that friend who has it all? And while you're wasting your money, order a Snuggie! What a great companion piece :P

You need a change of scenery. Sitting still has always been a challenge for you. But at the moment, it's going to basically impossible. Why fight it? Get out there and mix it up. Someone special would like to spend some quality time with you right now. Whether it's an old friend, a new flame or a long-neglected family member, share yourself with someone you adore. They'll appreciate the gesture and you'll increase your cosmic connection with this person. Increase my cosmic connection ... bring it! C'mon!! This is something I can fully grasp. Well, in an outer dimensional method of thinking. Let's dance this mess around. I have to do laundry today. Doubt is on the horizon of actualizing this horoscope there. I'm avoiding the big laundromat just in case Asshat Running Man gets the same idea. That is one person with whom I do not have a cosmic thing .

... I hope it's enough.

I do NOT ... I repeat DO NOT LIKE WORKING SUNDAYS!! This is all the energy I can muster.

For the past two days my Facebook status has expressed that I have nothing to say. That's not wholly true. Plenty of thoughts swirl around in my head like a cyclone; yet, I'm unable to express them. This is often a startling concept to people who see me as someone never at a loss for something to say. I'm a known babbler. Often in that babbling comes insight and or profound revelations. However, there are circumstances which leave me dumbfounded. Incapable of channeling a great poet to offer words of hope and wisdom, I remain silent amongst the bounty of tears that flow. How do you offer comfort to a friend who has just said goodbye to his mother? How do I appear selfless and sympathetic while I mourn an amazing woman? A rush of personal experience of loss leaves a feeling of complete uselessness. This outstanding woman wasn't simply my friend's mom. She was Mama Nelson to all who knew her. She embraced each of us as we walked over the threshold of her home...

It is with a humble heart that I give thanks and honor to our nation's veterans. My gratitude for your dedication and selflessness is infinite. Happy Veterans Day.

Hey! I stumbled across this while exploring my latest addiction : lala click the link on the player. Look me up and we can be friends. You know friiiiiieeeeeeends . Shy Boy - Katie Melua You might remember Katie Melua from an earlier post. She did a cover of The Cure's "Just Like Heaven" that, in my humble opinion, encompasses far more emotion than the original. It's just an opinion. Don't tar and feather me. There was a time in my life when I was drawn to bad boys. The hard to attain boys. The guys who made me jump through hoops for their attention. In other words, total asshats . Then, I married one. hahahahahaha OK, not really a laughing matter. He wasn't a bad boy. He was a do-whatever-I-want-to-boy; without-facing-consequence-boy. Believe it or not, I'm a shy girl when I truly want to pursue a relationship. I'm ballsy and forward when there are no stakes. Flirting without fear of rejection is second nature if I'm not being serious....

Just watch it!!

The people you encounter today are going to love loving you. Everyone who thinks you're cool is ready and raring to let you know it. Accept compliments graciously, because you'll get lots of them. But try not to let it go to your head. Vanity is certainly nothing to be ashamed of, but it's something to indulge in with careful consideration . There you have it.  My horoscope for today.  I read it after making the following video.  Y'all know what you're obligated to do now.  Hey, we can't go upsetting the stars and proving them wrong, now, can we? We, of course, being you :) I'm graciously awaiting

Tuesday's blog post has been temporarily interrupted by a wall. Enjoy the music while I gather my thoughts.

Where do I begin? You're all probably aware of how exceedingly proud I am of my son.  He's made great strides in his career as a student.  I've written briefly about his ability to overcome the many challenges a child with Asperger's Syndrome faces.  Rather than go into a dissertation on AS, I've provided the link. Just know, for the sake of this post, that for Mancub it has imposed upon his social interaction, concentration and coordination.  Never has it been my desire to make that the focus of why I bask in his accomplishments.  However, today's post deems it necessary. Big changes can often disrupt the balance an Aspie has persevered in managing.  Taking on the basic tasks of changing schools and tackling harder studies of being a freshman put me on high alert for Mancub.  He's always had to deal with kids who don't like that he's different from them.  That's not to say all kids who endure the bullying of such neanderthals are Aspies....

Tom and Jerry (the vintage episodes) is one of my all-time favorite cartoons.  This particular episode is spooktacular!  Special thanks to Adam aka Slimer on Plurk for finding it and posting.  I looked for it yesterday and couldn't find it.