Rapier's Wit

A week ago today it was raining. It was also my day off and Father's Day. Did I mention the weather sucked? Rather than go lounge in my sister's pool, Mancub and I ventured out for lunch and a movie. Initially we had intended on seeing ... I can't remember. But we were late for the starting time and I'm one of those people who prefers arriving early. I need to be settled in to view the flick and not rushing in the dark theater only to trip over some dipwad's big foot sticking out in the aisle. Due to the time circumstance we watched Land of the Lost. It's a complete sidestep from the television series. However, because it's clear that I have a 12 year old boy's sense of humor, I laughed hysterically right along with Mancub. The work week was pretty typical. Sadly, the economy is taking a toll on business. I'm grateful to be working full-time (a relative term since full-time is considered working 30 hours.) and my benefits remain intact. Fri...

I heard the news while at work. I didn't cry nor did it feel the same way as when John Lennon was shot and killed. Heartbreak for the children didn't tug at me as it did with Princess Diana was tragically killed in a motor accident. It was as if a little piece of my childhood passed away. And for that, there is sadness. I've written before that the Jackson 5 helped shaped my personal love of music. It was Michael's "Look over your shoulder, honey!" that developed one of my earliest celebrity crushes. The color of his skin had no relevance. In my little girl mind, Michael was singing for me. I cut that record off the back of a Sugar Crisp cereal box. It was one in a series. It wobbled on the turntable, but oh how I loved that song. I would wait for that famous line to come on and sing right along. Innocence. Fast forward to my freshman year in high school. With time to kill in the afternoon a few of us are gathered around the piano that is on stage ...

OK, I'm a tall chick. I'm not a rail thin supermodel tall chick. Let's just say my curves make an entrance before I do. There's no secret that I battle with my weight and the weight usually wins. That's not what this is about. I recently signed up on dating website. I'm not revealing which one because I do like to keep some things private. In my profile I state that I am a plus-size "thick" woman of 5'11". Due to my height and size I prefer a man bigger and as tall if not taller than me. I have taken about as much flack for such a preference than I can bear. Men who are shorter seem to give me guff for "setting such a specific parameter therefore limiting the dating pool." Now, my argument is that many women who are much shorter than I prefer men who tower over them. A lot of men that I know who are taller than me prefer petite women. I don't throw a fit and tell them they are fools for having such specific desires. ...

When I was a wee little lass I had dreams. They weren't monumental nor were they about saving the world. There were no delusions of grandeur about impacting the world with my vocal prowess. With limited intelligence, there was never a chance I'd solve the universal questions. My average qualities kept me grounded. My parents never pushed me in any one direction. They hadn't mapped out my future. So, as I set out into adulthood, I wandered and just took a path that seemed comfortable. Sometimes that path was well tread upon. Periodically, I'd traverse the unknown and stumble upon disappointment and disillusionment. Always a lesson to be learned while taking the road less traveled. Never in my dreams as a little girl did I envision myself as a single mom. I dreamed of a lovely home complete with the dreamy husband. Then, my needle off the record moment occurred. Divorce, debt and disembowelment of dreams. No matter. My parents might have never given me distin...

When someone wishes me happy Mother's Day in May, I smile and gush a little over the joys of being Mancub's mom. There's no denying that I feel I was born to be a parent. Little did I realize when I became a mother that I'd fill the role of both parents. Mancub's father and I divorced in '99 and, for the most part, I have carried the load of taking care of business. They'd spend time when I was working on weekends, but if I wasn't working Mancub was with me. Financially it all rests on my shoulders, as well. So, in 2005 we packed up what we could carry on a plane and moved to Illinois. Mancub's father didn't follow as hoped or tentatively planned. He packed up what he could carry in a van and moved to Texas. Since that time there is little visitation and periodic communication. Mancub welcomes any and all that he can get from his dad. Yes, when he isn't looking I roll my eyes and try not to gag. It's trivial to me, but monument...

Here and There (From the Movie "Here and There") by Cyndi Lauper More Cyndi Lauper music on iLike

... I saw a woman with her hair colored, cut and styled like Kate Gosselin of blah blah 8 kids yada yada. She was a pregnant woman who, while ordering her food in the food court sounded like Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally." She was accompanied by a man whom I assume to be her husband -- he seemed whipped and or brow beaten. He cowered as she proceeded to order. Presumed child numero uno barely uttered a word as mama ordered for him/her, too. I don't know if the kid was a boy or girl. I was fixated on the exhausting order of the cockatoo head. The woman couldn't have been more picky or precise about how much ice in her Dr. Pepper, the number of olives and tomatoes on her burrito "no beans, please," or how crispy she desired her Potato Ole's to be cooked (for those not in the Taco John's region, they are essentially flat tater tots with seasoning sprinkled on top). I have to mention that her nose was sharply angled exactly like Lois Griffin...