Rapier's Wit

This weekend brought together a group of people who've known each other the span of 39 years. Some of us didn't meet until middle school or junior high, but collectively, we have known each nearly our entire lifetimes. That's quite a feat. We're not related, but there's that special something that makes us feel like we are. It dawned on me that during our formative years, we all had struggles. Some of us lost a parent. Some fought to maintain identity. A couple rebelled and couldn't escape the stigma. In spite of what we experienced in our domiciles, we have all learned that our lives weren't perfection, but we unknowingly leaned on each other to find a semblance of structure. We were a bonded family. The camaraderie that existed in the class of '83 can't be denied. In fact, it's still percolating to this day. On August 29 a small group of us gathered around a fire pit in the backyard of a classmate. Through the smoke, we laughed, ate, dr

I want to thank those of you who voted on my hair color poll. I was kind of relieved to find that a resounding 73.7 % of you wanted to see me with dark brown hair. Fiery red came in second, but trailing the winner significantly at 15.8 %. After staring at the wall of color, I grabbed a box. Put it back. Grabbed another. Returned it. You get the idea. I chose the make and model with intense color! If you're going to change, you might as well do it with gusto, right? Here it is, boys and girls. Even if the poll said otherwise, I probably would have selected the color that is most like my natural hue. With comments like these, who am I to argue? " you look positively sultry with dark brown " -- yoonamaniac " I have to say that the dark brown is the most flattering to your skin tones. It also makes your green eyes more intense, doncha think? ?" -- anonymous

In a quest to give the gloomy skies a shove off, I turned to music. Sometimes doing a happy dance in ones underpants can rid the soul of mental gray matter. While I don't have the powers of Mother Nature, my 'rain, rain go away!' dance has been known to work wonders. My dance recently saved a friend's garage sale from impending doom due to severe rain. When the Relay For Life was being threatened by a dismal day, I turned it around to complete blue sky and sunshine. For that one I put out a distress call online. So, I can't take all the credit for that one. The area weather has been overcast, rainy and thunderous (at times) for three days. Enough is enough! I can't take it. Sunshine is needed. Youtube is often a great resource because of the other suggestions given. I've disc overed a lot of artists with this process. This morning I sought out the tunage of GO WEST . You remember those guys, right? Cute lead singer (Peter Cox) with short hair and guita

"As long as the ties that bind us together are stronger than those that would tear us apart, all will be well." As any parent can tell you, it's not an easy job raising the next generation. It's often thankless and frustrating. Finding a medium to which you can bond with your oft times hormonal teen is challenging. No one ever said it was easy . Yeah. I know. Raising a boy without a man in the house or in our lives is tricky. I won't break my arm patting myself on the back, but I think I've done fairly well. My son may not know how to throw a spiral or a curve ball. I rely upon his physical education teacher to help out in that area. Mancub and I have managed to bond over movies, music and television programs. That's not to say I sit and watch TV non-stop. I threaten to leave the house when the Disney Channel is on. Wizards of Waverly Place and The Suite Life of Zach and Cody push me to the brink of insanity. I thank God that That's So Raven

I wanted to post something amusing, but I wasn't feeling ultra creative. Like so many bloggers who hit the proverbial brick wall, I went in search of something pre-fab, but probably not FAB in the sense of fabulous. It's just OK. www.quizcat.com myspace surveys , myspace backgrounds coolest widgets. rapidshare search

Lost touch with my soul I had no where to turn I had no where to go Lost sight of my dream, Thought it would be the end of me I thought I’d never make it through I had no hope to hold on to, I thought I would break I didn’t know my own strength And I crashed down, and I tumbled But I did not crumble I got through all the pain I didn’t know my own strength Survived my darkest hour My faith kept me alive I picked myself back up Hold my head up high I was not built to break I didn’t know my own strength Found hope in my heart, I found the light to life My way out of the dark Found all that I need Here inside of me I thought I’d never find my way I thought I’d never lift that weight I thought I would break I didn’t know my own strength And I crashed down, and I tumbled But I did not crumble I got through all the pain I didn’t know my own strength Survived my darkest hour My faith kept me alive I picked myself back up Hold my head up high I was not built to break I didn’t know my own streng

Leo (7/23-8/22) You wrote the book on loyalty -- and that applies to anyone you care about, whether they're family, friends, or someone you met on the bus who asked for your advice. You may need to exhibit that quality on the spur of the moment today, and you'll rise to the occasion beautifully. Does this mean that you'll get overly involved? Maybe, but isn't that just how you do business? All or nothing, right ? Though I typically dismiss horoscopes as frivolous bru-ha-ha, I do find this to be quite true. It's a general statement about who I am. Is every Leo this way? I don't have a clue. The other day my horoscope overview was " Reminiscing about the past is a great way to determine where to go in your future. " And I have been doing a lot of that. It's such a glorious thing to be able to share the past with someone who was there. On Sunday I went in search of one photo and ended up finding several I had all but forgotten. I've ta

I make no secret that I color my hair. It all started back in '83 when I used a temporary dye to make my already dark brown hair jet black. Why would I do that, you ask? Because when it comes to my love of the theater, I will make sacrifices. Our theater arts program put on "Flower Drum Song" as our Spring Musical. I was cast as seamstress Helen Chow. How odd that I play the role of a woman who was the object of unrequited love. For the record, I had a moment on the stage where I stood alone singing about how love needed to leave me be. "Love Look Away" also served as the song I would later sing in the Miss Kankakee Pageant. But I digress, as usual. This is not about my lonely hearts club or retro rewind to days of glory in high school. This is all about my 'do. The lioness's mane. My crowning glory; my hair. After looking at all the photos from the Rick Springfield concert, I am questioning my current choice of hair color. While I enjoy pre

Hot-cha-cha! I thought I was going to burst (some areas burst-ier than others). That man exudes such dynamic sexuality, I could swear by the time the concert ended I'd been impregnated by osmosis. Good giggily! He's white hot! Please allow me to objectify and testify! Woohoo girl fully engaged!! I had such an incredible night attending the Rick Springfield concert in Peoria, IL. The venue, Paradice Casino and Hotel, left little to be desired as far as its accommodations. They called it a ballroom, but it looked more like a conference room that had been converted. I complained to the security officer who seemed to take a keen interest in us. I n oticed the first two sections had comfy, cushioned chairs where as our section had plastic folding chairs. As if we were an afterthought. How rude! I have no idea how those chicks got tickets in the first two sections. My companions, Timi and Kelly were on the phone the second the lines opened and we only had the rear section to

I sat at this computer struggling to decide which Riss I wanted to share with you today. "Which Riss? How many are there? " you ask. There are many facets to my persona. Duh! You knew that. You'll get what I give you and like it. Color me scatter brained. I've been talking to an old friend I'm joyful to have reconnected with recently. There's a huge gaping hole in our lives that we're filling in. It's one of those "moments of grace" as my friend put it. Good fortune. Happenstance. Serendipity-doo-dah! Kismet. OK, I'm over dramatizing, but I think there's purpose for our reunion. I have stopped (almost) analyzing it and I'm just rolling with it. That's not something I do often. So, please take a moment to mark your calendar. Do a touchy doo hicky tappity tap on your fancy iPhone or high-tech gadgetry. I expect a card next year. Right, " shut up Marissa and get to the point of this post so I don't log off and f

It's a rare occasion when I find myself wordless. Speechless and awe stricken? Most definitely. There are times when I find it's best to just let someone else do the talking. Or in this case, singing. One of my favorite songs by Queen. Words and music by queen Sometimes I get to feeling I was back in the old days - long ago When we were kids when we were young Thing seemed so perfect - you know The days were endless we were crazy we were young The sun was always shining - we just lived for fun Sometimes it seems like lately - I just don't know The rest of my life's been just a show Those were the days of our lives The bad things in life were so few Those days are all gone now but one thing is true When I look and I find I still love you You cant turn back the clock you cant turn back the tide Ain't that a shame I'd like to go back one time on a roller coaster ride When life was just a game No use in sitting and thinking on what you did When you can lay back and

I got tagged for this on Facebook from fellow Stuck in the '80s and wicked cool Steve Perry fan-girl Carla. Now, I'm sharing the inane with my devoted and beloved readers. Aren't you lucky! If you've been tagged or you are reading this, you have the honor of copying all these goofy questions, writing your own response, and tagging 25 other victims. You have to tag me so really you just need 24 more people. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you. To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your title as "Getting to know each other!", tag 25 people including me (tagging is done in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish. 1. What time did you get up this morning? 4:30 -- I planned on 6:00. 2. How do you like your steak? Medium 3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Land of the Lost 4. What is your favorite TV show? Forensic Files and The Inves

As Mancub stepped off the porch this morning I no longer saw the tot too afraid to go to school. I said goodbye and wished him a wonderful first day of high school as all 6'2" 220 pounds of him lumbered toward the bus stop. With his wavy, floppy hair damp and facial hair fuzzily outgrown, he took one more step towards manhood. Over the years I have stood at the front window waiting for his bus to pass the house. From the front seat of the bus he always waved; signaling that all was well. Today I felt he might think that too immature or embarrassing. Per habit, I stood at the window. This time veiled behind the sheers. From the front seat of the bus I saw a glimmer of my little boy. He raised his hand just slightly above the base of the window ... a casual wave goodbye. ... and the tears began to flow.

I've been in a mental time warp lately. It's amazing how neatly tucked away emotions bubble to the surface when a most unexpected person makes a re-entry into the present. Sure, it's only via this magical land of the Internet. For this gal, it doesn't matter. I'm delighted to have made this connection. Hopefully, current events will slip into the place of the past. I should mention that I have made an addition to the right margin list of goodies. You can now email ( wildhair65@gmail.com ) me if you're not comfortable leaving comments in the open. The blog items that I write are also fed to Facebook. So, if you're on FB you can drop me a note there, too. Consider it a one-stop shop! My present and past have managed to intermingle, as of late. With Mancub starting high school (which is where my mind has been stuck in reply), I have been trying to consider how I felt as I embarked upon a new chapter in my young life. He doesn't seem bothered or nervo

This song has been in my head the last few days. I decided it was time to share.

I look forward to birthdays not for the presents or the joyful singing in various keys. Those are undoubtedly perks of aging. No. It's the cake, but not technically the cake. Give me the frosting. I always ask for the corner piece that's thick with butter cream. If there's a frosting floral arrangement it's even better! When all the pieces are cut and the ribbon of icing remains on the cake plate you can bet I'll be taking a fork, spoon or hell, skip the utensil! I'll just slide my finger along the rim of the plate and plop that glob on my plate. I dream of cupcakes piled high with frosting. The wax paper wrapped cake part is merely a vessel in which to deliver the creamy, sugary goodness to my pie-hole. Yeah, I know. I'm gross. I wouldn't do that finger picker-upper around anyone but family. It's not like I lick the plate. mmmm mmmm mmmm. I eat the cake simply because it's attached to the frosting. Today we celebrated all the summer b

...are the eyes of a sword wielding, bodacious heroine!! Be wary if you're a heartbreaking baffoon! Look over your shoulder, asshats! The Rapier is ready to slice and dice you down to size. I received this as a birthday gift. It's absolutely kick-ass, don't you think? Gifts have been given to me in the past that were touching, thoughtful, pricey, etc... This artistic rendering of my alter ego instantly made me weep. With the exception of presents Mancub has made, I can't recall a time when someone put such a personal touch on a gift. For me. Exclusively. Not another one of its kind. It's all me; just for me. Me me memememememeeeeeeeeeeee! It's uncanny how spot on the body is in this drawing. Amazing! Yeah, my ass is so firm you could bounce Buicks off my butt. Mmmhmm. And that tiny waist. Yup. Me to a 't'. It's so close to the real thing that one might swear I posed for it. **giggle-snort** What has me even more thrilled is that I now have a

It all started with taking Mancub and his friend, K, to their freshman orientation. Once I dropped the boys off I head to the luxuriousness of the laundromat. Awww I see you turning green over there. Envy doesn't look pretty on you. The place was packed with dames gray with age, which reminde d me that my roots were in severe need of attention. One of the ladies was a snappy dresser in her fashionable jeans and tailored blue and white striped shirt. The old girl even had her collar popped! She curses like a sailor which caused me to giggle to myself as I filled the top load washer with my dirty duds. Her companion is hunched over and requires a cane, but the rapport between them is a hoot to overhear. She shuffles about much like Sophia on The Golden Girls. While I'm far from being as old as those gals in the laundromat, I was reminded that aging doesn't require you to lose your pep or give up the spunkiness of youth. You just have to be careful how high you kick up

First I must say that I love birthdays. I think it's a shame when someone wants their day of birth to go unnoticed. Everyone deserves to be celebrated for being a part of someone's life. Seriously, while it isn't necessary (for some) to go all out and raise hell, it's still nice to be recognized. With that being said, I am making some blog hoopla about my own birthday. Yeah. Go me! I go girl!! Hell to the yeah! Can I hear a Woot! WOOT!? It's August 11, 2009. I am officially a forty-four year old woman. A single mother of one son. It's just a number when I say it out loud. But I wanted to find more significance to the twin number. There's something fetching about the numeral. If I stare at it long enough it takes on a Picasso-esque image. A woman standing at an angle, perhaps. * Barack Obama is the 44th president of the United States. * Forty Four (44) even has its own entry in Wikipedia! According to that page, it says 44 is a happy number! Oooh

Today's quote of the day comes from Anna Sewell. You know, the author of Black Beauty. I can't honestly say where exactly this quote comes from. All I know is that it's credited to her. Here goes: " I am never afraid of what I know ." -- Anna Sewell While that's incredibly profound and I'm sure in its true context it is absolutely brilliant and truthful. However, I can say with complete confidence that I am often afraid of what I know. In fact, there are things that are told to me that I wish I could bleach out of my memory. There are some instances when a person has to get some secret out of their consciousness. In some cases, they give you the pre-emptive shpeel about how under no circumstances are you to share the information with anyone. Even if you are tortured with fire ants after honey is ladled on your flesh are you repeat what they are about to tell you. STOP! Really, if it's that crucial, I believe that person needs to go to a priest

Last night when I got home from work and settled in, I checked my email. Amongst the newsletters and impersonal advertisements was notification of a comment left on my blog for a post I wrote on May 1. "Sometimes I wonder... " was a primer on how I became musically involved at school. The comment I speak of was left by my one and only date from high school. He took me to the Junior Prom. I wore a pink, tea-length gown fashioned after Princess Diana's wedding dress. My sister Maureen made it for me. My date wore white tails. I wish I had a photo to share, but alas those are tucked away in a box at my sister's house. As I was saying, in the comment (you can click the post link above and see for yourself) he said he Googled me for the ... of it. And in doing so he found my blog. I have to say I was flabbergasted and flattered that he thought of me and was curious enough about me to turn to Google. I've heard through the 25th reunion grapevine that he'

Today is a solemn day for an entire nation of people who loved the decade that brought us the age of John Hughes films. By now it's no secret that an icon of a generation passed away at the young age of 59. I'm not going to prattle on about the intricacies of his screen writing process or directing ability. What I know is that he managed to put on screen what many of us felt as teens or adults. His amazing ability to portray the human spirit wasn't limited to teen angst. In "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" Mr. Hughes manages to capture the adult side of human angst, loss, fear and longing to just be ... loved. The following youtube clips exemplify how easily one can go from riotous laughter to tear jerking confrontation. Like no one else, at the end of the film Hughes is able to encapsulate what's important in life. Though considered predictable for a happy ending, isn't that what we all want anyway? Don't you want the good guy to get what he wan

I write this with tears welling in my green eyes. I try not to let him see; blaming my sniffles on allergies. Monday's Child Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for a living, But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day Is bonny and blithe and good and gay. Mancub was born on a Friday evening 15 years ago (August 5). He most certainly epitomizes Friday's Child's description. As readers of this blog know, I am abundantly proud of the young man my son has turned out to be. Tuesday evening I returned from work and, with bags in my hands, I made a bee-line toward the kitchen. I said my hellos to my leggy lad while passing through. With some urgency, I pit-stopped at the restroom before throwing on my relaxing yoga stretch pants and making myself comfortable in front of the computer. It was