Rapier's Wit

Well, the holiday season is in full swing. This year you won't be getting a bah humbug from dear ol' St. Riss.(Yeah, I saw that mighty eye-roll.) via GIPHY Sorry (not sorry) about the seizure inducing GIF. As my previous post expressed, it has been a mighty long time. Usually, by this gift giving season, yours truly finds all the cheerfulness quite menacing. It all starts with the 30 days of gratitude in November. This year, I do have plenty to bitch and moan about, and I will surely share some of those laments later because it can be entertaining. At this very moment, however, I feel content. If you are reading this and aren't a friend in reality nor are you a friend on Facebook -- who hasn't unfollowed or hidden my posts -- then it is new to you that I no longer work for Lenscrafters after 21 years of employment with the optical giant retailer. They decided a one hour lab was no longer needed in several locations including the one where I was a manager. Suck...

It is FINALS week at my son's university, much like the majority of colleges around the country. He has always put forth a lot of effort to achieve good grades. There are times, despite his studying and perfect attendance, the good grades do not materialize.  As a parent, I try to encourage him without nagging. He resides with me. I see him studying. He stays up late working on essays, homework, etc... I pray a lot for his success.  Today happens to be my mother's birthday. She died from ovarian cancer in June of 1981. It doesn't matter how many years pass, I miss her. There are times it is even more painful. She loved to sing. Her passion for music has always been evident in my family. On Facebook early this morning I posted that it was my mom's birthday. At the moment I hit send, I began to cry. It has been quite some time that I wept over missing her - not that it lessens what her absence means. I put out a wish for her to assure me she was with me. Ba...

This post is from August 22, 2010! Man, what a difference 5 years makes. I've been through a lot in that time. One major change is that ... well, the change has occurred and the subject matter of the post below is moot. However, it is amusing to me all the same. I found it while looking through notes posted on Facebook. I didn't realize they existed anymore. I thought Facebook had done away with them long ago. Anyway, enjoy my ramblings about being 45 and facing hormonal changes. Also, enjoy my collar bones and singular chin in the photo to the left. I'd lost over 40 lbs. I'm mega fatter in comparison now. Sadness. Working on that again.  Right to the point: I'm a girl who has needed a check up from the neck up. Thumbing through the Yellow Pages for a shrink isn't what is inferred. Although, that would probably do me a world of good. After all, there are plenty of reasons for the manner in which I act and react to situations in my life. Knee jerk reactions t...

No. The Rapier household does not have a washer and dryer yet. The water that comes into my house is rusty. I don't want discolored whites. Orange, in this case, is not the new black. The plumbing and water heater are all relatively new. The pipes from the main water line to the house, however, is as old as running water, I am told. So, with that in mind, I do not invest in the modern convenience of having the units in my rental home. And no, I don't want to buy additional laundry additives that takes the rust out of the wash water. I did that when we lived in the country and it ruined my cottons. Sheesh. For your viewing pleasure. He was not at the laundromat today. He's on loan from LovingMaleModels on Instagram Today was a much needed laundry day. The idea of spending my first weekend off in over six weeks (last weekend) in a laundromat held absolutely zero appeal. Additionally, the weekends are the busiest time of the week to visit said laund-O-rama. Being there d...

Today may be September 22, but this gal isn't succumbing to autumn just yet. Here in the Midwest we were robbed of summer. With June being one big torrential downpour, I demand a month extension of sum,sum,summertime!! Like many people, my son and I were enslaved by the sump pump and overflowing water table. We don't live terribly far from the banks of the Kankakee River.We both got our share of exercise running up and down the basement stairs to jiggle the pump. Every 20 minutes day after day after day we dealt with that blasted thing attempting to prevent the basement from flooding and damaging the furnace. I guess the saving grace in all of it is that the under dwelling of the house is more like a constructed cave instead of it being additional living space. I give you actual footage during a downpour that included tornado warnings. Eek! My son was a total champ. In some ways it was a blessing he hadn't found full-time employment. His round the clock job was manning ...

If you've been following this blog since forever ago then you'll know that on a whim I nicknamed my breasts Thelma and Louise. It was a joke during a conversation I had with a guy online back in the late 90s. It started by laughing at the weird things men name their junk. Thelma and Louise seemed far more appropriate than Laverne and Shirley. With that out of the way, please understand that I have never been shy discussing my boobalas. It is like ignoring the 800 pound gorilla in the room.  Usually, the discussion revolves around the impossibility of finding a bra that truly suits me (hence the secondary title of this blog) and the difficulty in wearing pretty much any shirt, sweater, jacket, etc... Today, the Girls need to have a serious talk with all of you. When I was 19 a lump was found in my left breast. Immediately, my gynecologist was notified, he examined me and sent me to a general surgeon the same day. Within a week the lump was subjected to a needle biopsy whic...

Oh dear me! This week has been a smack in the head emotionally. Mother's Day is often such a struggle for me. On one hand, I am ecstatic to have a son who loves and respects me. He fills me with so much pride. On the other hand, losing my own mother in 1981causes me such emotional turmoil from time to time. Not often, but when it strikes it strikes hard. The other day on Facebook I shared that my final memory of my mother was that in the hospital where she spent her last days. She was ravaged with cancer and in dire pain even with pain medication. Toward the very end I wasn't permitted to visit her. However, the time I was allowed in her room she had pushed me away after I hugged her because I was hurting her. It isn't the memory I want to hold on to, but it is there. As her last child, the youngest of eight, there's no doubt she had her reasons. My siblings have assured me, while it wasn't what I wanted, it is what our mother felt was best for me ... or her. It ...

...glitter on the mattress... Not so fast, cowboy!! The other night the snow was falling as I drove home from work. The temperature was below 15°F. The flakes were small, but not pellet like. Going the speed limit on I-57 wasn't optional. There was no rush to get home because the headlights shining on the freshly fallen snow was magical. Wet, big flakes don't have the same sparkle quality of the colder snow. If you live in a region where it snows you will understand. Don't laugh. For once in my life it seemed as if the roads were paved with glitter just for me. Shut up. I said don't laugh. When you're a woman like me, you have to find moments that make you feel exquisitely special. Those moments often have to be created in the mind. If only it could have been captured in a photo. The snow causes the world to hush. I loathe the cold, but snow brings with it something so ... comforting. At last my path was lined with glitter. I took it as a sign from...

Hello, 2014! Welcome to my life. You bring with you the promise of clean pages on which to write. I won't leave the old chapters behind, but it is time for a new book to be written. A new saga in a series. In general, grand resolutions aren't made in the house of Riss. However, seeing it as a marker for a new start suits me. Making promises and not keeping them seems foolish. Why not adopt something that will bring enlightenment and joy? As I said in yesterday's post, I am ready to take a chance again. Throw some caution to the wind and let my heart soar instead of being sore. Who's with me? Anybody wanna jump on the new attitude train? I was going to say the Riss-train, but that would some how be turned into a perverse notion and the next thing you know invitations to partake in a human centipede would arrive. Yeesh. As part of my new attitude campaign, the look of this blog has changed. It is a tad spiffier and spruced up. We've parted ways with th...

2013 has flown by at lightning speed, it seems. Someone once said that as we age the years tend to do that. Is it because we have little to look forward to or that we are just so much enjoying watching our children grow that we want to savor every second? My money is on the latter. We learn to relish the moments instead of always looking for something better and shiny. OK, mayhaps I cannot speak for you. As for me, I revel in the moment. Most of the time. Well, in retrospect. This year has zipped by, damn it. I don't like it! But here we are... Christmas is just two days away. One day if you're one of those people who doesn't count the day we are in. Changes at work, Mancub being in college... I've been busy and time got away from me. So, there is no card of any sort being sent out. On Facebook, I promised a blog post Christmas card. Even that nearly got away from me.  Today, I'm off from work. Because the month managed to be shorter, somehow, gifts for ...

Yep. When I choose a wine, the label had better be interesting. My good friend chooses wine similarly. His boyfriend confirms that the contents could be skunk piss, but as long as the bottle is interesting he will buy it. A few years ago, before I could afford cable and internet, we frequented the library. My driver's license had an address within the public library district and I was able to obtain a card at no charge. Now, I have to fork over nearly $200. per year because I live outside city limits. OK, sorry. Distracted by detail. Prior to cable and internet I checked out dozens of books per month. Chick lit mostly because all I wanted was to be entertained. Perusing the shelves looking for specific titles and authors didn't do the trick. Not being an avid reader, I had no favorites and Danielle Steel no longer did the trick. So, with that in mind and knowing all I needed was lightweight smut and girly adventure, I sought out pink and purple stereotypical feminine ...

Ah, the beginning of a new era. Please permit me to inject sound effects of screeching tires, needle scratching across a record. When my little bundle of love was born I had huge hopes for him. It's natural for any parent to imagine what great things their newborn will be capable of accomplishing. It's easy because that version of the future is so far off ... Now, insert the sound effect of a rocket blasting off or race cars speeding around the track. Time flies, yo'! Being the only parent consistently in my son's life, I admit to over protection. It is a fact. Mancub has heard my admission time and time again along with apologies for having done so. I am that mom who would have wrapped her child in bubble wrap in order for him to play football. You laugh. I am serious. When I dropped him off for his first day of Kindergarten I had to pull off the road to sob. Then, repeat until arriving at home to completely break down. He survived, but not without co...

Dear Pixar: As always, I am behind on watching movies. Ever since my son hit puberty we aren't as prone to racing to the theater to see your movies. He's into fart humor flicks and action/adventures. So, this morning I was flipping through the 100s of channels offered up and stumbled upon your film BRAVE .  Since I had not seen it and nothing else piqued my interest, I opted to view. First off, let me applaud the design of the wild haired Merida. It's clear in the very beginning she is not the usual 'live in a shiny castle upon the hill' sort of princess. Secondly, it was refreshing that none of the first born males of the other clans were strapping, handsome warrior sorts with the heart of gold. You almost always throw some stud in the mix that the wild eyed princess fawns over completely losing sight of her identity. Again, thank you. Thirdly, encouragement from the father to remain independent reminds me a lot of my own relationship with my dad. My mom,...

The approach of Father's Day always gets me thinking. For one, it makes me miss my own father very much (he died in '99). That was the same year I went through my divorce. We were 800 miles away from the nearest family and I had to go through it without my rock, my father. You can tell me he was and always has been with me in spirit but those are just empty words when all one truly needs is to have the presence in human form of the embodiment of unconditional love. He wasn't a man of many words despite his articles in The Kankakee Journal's Voice of the People and other various publications. When it came to his kids, his thoughts were many, but his words profound and few. Our relationship hadn't always been ideal. As a little girl, I was undoubtedly his baby. The last born of the brood he had with my mother, he seemed determined to do right by me. We had a special bond. Then, when my mother passed away in '81, it was quickly severed and we hit years of rough...

"The Wedding Singer" presented by our community theater ( kvta.org ) came and went without so much as a blog post from me. Why? Well, I was preoccupied with work, rehearsals, social-life. Wait, what? Did you just read social-life? Indeed you did. Now, don't get too excited thinking I found me a may-un. No, no. What resulted from being in a musical production of the movie by the same name is friendships. Say that one more time. Friendship. Local. Easily accessible. Let's back up a little bit because the performances of "The Wedding Singer" deserve some attention. I had the best time performing on a stage where my high school days were spent. Additionally, my son and niece were also in the show. Our little winter production even received a review from the newspaper. That hasn't happened in a long time. See, this presentation didn't come without some controversy. The Daily Journal called us "racy but worthwhile." Yep. For this theater gr...

A few months ago I landed on Wiki-How thanks to a link on Pinterest. As a result of that I began following Wiki-How on Twitter. Now and then, I click the link. There are some useful things and others are simple things that one might assume everyone knows how to do. For sake of experimentation and boredom, I searched what I think is the simplest thing on Earth to make: A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Wiki-How did not disappoint. It has instructions complete with photographs. It, however, uses the wonkiest piece of bread they could find. I'd post the actual photo of said wackadoo slice of bread, but I'd probably be violating some copyright and I can't even afford to pay GoDaddy! to use my other blog let alone some legal fees to defend my intention to merely point fingers and laugh rather than steal. OK, this is the link to the Wiki-How to make a PB&J . Did you check it out? Scroll all the way down and they've added how to really jazz up your sandwich, as w...

I always considered myself a generally happy person. In spite of life's ups and downs, it wasn't unusual to just keep smiling knowing that a new day would dawn where new opportunities would be presented.  How I viewed myself and presumed others viewed me was slightly skewed from what was deeply felt ... by myself. Not until the last couple of months did it come to my attention that I'd been wearing a mask.  Yours truly was not happy.  Miserable might be pushing it, but needless to say, if I was me I wouldn't want my own company.  That's pretty damned sad. Little by little the layers of yuck have peeled away as the inches of flubber have also been shed.  Without a doubt my weight was allowing me to hide; to be buried.  That's not to say every person who is overweight is congruently unhappy.  My weight was an excuse for not pursuing romance or even attention from the opposite sex. Zoinks! A revelation, it is. Last week something extraordinary occ...

"Things will go wrong at times. You can't always control your attitude, approach, and response. Your options are to complain or to look ahead and figure out how to make the situation better" — Tony Dungy

This is it! Once again this girl is on her way to improved health and fitness!! Aren't you just thrilled for me? I could use some back up to hold me accountable through the holidays.  The tab labeled "join my team" is calling out to you. Anyway, back in the swing of things with my workouts. On Team Beachbody there's a schedule for the workout program that I am using --  TURBO FIRE.  When I log into the WOWY Supergym, it tells me which dvd to use.  The rest is up to me.  Plus, each time I log into WOWY I'm entered for a chance to win cash or prizes.  No longer am I doggin' it and taking the easy way out.  My mind tells me I can jump and tuck so my feet and legs do it. Kind of. I mean, I'm not four feet off the ground with my knees under my chin, but I DO leave the ground. Today is the renewal of eating well.  That is harder than a marathon series of sumo burpees.  Focus is my champion right now.  To further motivate me I'm turning t...

When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be . My mother's name was Mary. Whenever I heard this song as a kid I presumed everybody knew my mom was a great listener and giver of advice. As I grew up I realized that Paul was singing about a more widely known woman named Mary. The mother I spawned from passed away in June of 1981. Just when I was in dire need of matronly advice, she was gone due to the ravages of cancer. I was a confused teen on the cusp of finally being permitted to date. Sixteen was the age at which girls in our family were allowed to have a boyfriend. All I'd had were crazy crushes that were never realized due to the restrictions placed upon me. Still, having my mother tell me how to handle myself or get over the painful heartache of nonrecip...