Talk to Me Please

It comes down to priorities.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I was just telling my 80 year old neighbor who walks with me and my dog daily how I have become the person I pitied many years ago when I was still tremendously mobile.

She is nine years my senior and I must go slowly as her feet give her trouble. My feet are fine, however.

Now my hip twitches from an old skiing accident I got when I boldly and stupidly took the slalom training course the young kids were running, which had, because of their intense use was now slick ice, which turned out to be a mistake.  I realized my mistake going into the second turn. Needless to say, I fell hard and had to be carted off by the ski patrol on a snow mobile.

At first, I thought my ski pole had not only broken but had also gone straight through my chest.  My face had slammed the slope hard.  I slowly sat up and checked to see if blood was running down or a ski pole had indeed gone through me.  It hadn’t.  No matter, I was seeing tweety birds circling my head and I was in pain.  Something certainly had broken.

As I waited for my rescue, I methodically checked each limb.  Sore but nothing appeared to be broken, but I’m no doctor.  A part of me was disappointed.

Yes, you read right.  Ever since I was a kid, other classmates had broken something.  An arm, a leg, foot, a finger and were getting all sorts of attention, not to mention the signatures on their casts.  Not me.  I’m as solid as they come, which I now appreciate.

casts

Buuuut, some attention would have been nice.  Be careful of what you wish for.  Little did I know…

I did, but not the kind I’d hoped for. At the time, I was working for this FM radio station in Colorado (I will not name the city, since there is only one golf shop there).  As an account rep,  my job was to get businesses to buy radio advertising.

As it was, I was black and blue with cuts and bruises over my  body, some on my face and a major black eye, actually that whole side was swollen and black and blue.  Not that unusual actually when you live in a place where people are actively engaged in dangerous sports and sometimes do get hurt. I did my makeup wizardry and off to work I go.

One of my accounts was this golf shop.  As I walked in, the owner , a very good looking, well built guy, was brazenly fooling around with his secretary/sales girl and had his hand down  her pants. Being as it was on the other side of the counter, I ,of course didn’t realize it until I was right on them.  He slips his hand out and turns to me, unabashed.  Yup! Out there in front of God and right smack dab in front of me!  That’s the kind of person he was.

Weeell, I was of course rattled but went into my pitch, pretending I hadn’t seen anything while he kept staring at my face.  Finally, he said, “What happened?  Your hubby catch you cheating on him?”

I responded with the truth,  but he acted like he didn’t believe me, doing his best to make me feel like the person he was. Sadly, I’m not one of those with a quick wit because there were a thousand other things I could’ve said and didn’t. I also probably should have just turned around and left, period, but like I said spontaneous quick thinking is not in my repertoire. I did turn around and leave but not before he got in a few more jabs.  Needless to say,  I gave the account to someone else and eventually quit altogether.

Some jobs, no matter the money are just not worth the abuse you may receive.  Nowadays, due to the “Me Too” movement, it doesn’t happen as often, but I’m afraid it probably still does, somewhere.

Not everyone reports, because it’s just not worth the energy expended to do anything about.  I know there are people who say I should pursue it, but it’s been nearly 20 years ago and way after the fact. Some might think if not for me but for everyone else and yes, that’s true, but I’m guessing at my age, now plus 70,  Why?

If I live to be my parents age, I may have only 10 to 16 years left, so time is precious.  Am I wrong to feel that way? I’d rather spend it with my kids.

Okay, I’d not intended to take this blog in the direction it went, but maybe it needed saying and maybe in saying it, I actually did get involved.

As time goes by, I have to mete out my energy selectively.  I still work out with a trainer and I eat horribly (not really), I have a cigarette now and then (don’t judge), only so I can stand being around hubby when he gets into a smoking jag.  (Stress at work)  So glad it’s not all the time.  But overall, I take pretty good care of myself.

I have learned that if I eat too many sweets or drink alcohol, I swell up like a balloon and my joints hurt, so after the holidays I find parts of me need to be salvaged.  The good thing is, I know what to do.   I didn’t always.

The truth is, I hit on it accidentally.  After one holiday 5-6 years ago, I was hobbling around, hunched over like an old lady and in so much pain I couldn’t straighten myself up.  I could not even stand up straight!!  The ol’ grey mare just ain’t what she used to be! I once could eat and drink anything and everything and not gain an ounce or have it affect my body adversely, but those days are so gone.

So what to do?  I thought about it and asked myself what was different?  It was the holidays.  Where I worked, everyone brought treats and goodies everyday for the last two months of the year and going into New Years. They were party animals and I was enjoying each and every morsel I could pop in my mouth! That is so how it was.

buffet 3

Sooo, I said, “Self.  What are you going to do about it?”

Well, I could have gone to the doctors and picked up some meds. That’s what most people tend to do.  Cover up the problem.  I’d already been told I was pre-diabetic and on the cusp of becoming diabetic and my cholesterol was on the high side but not dangerous. But I really didn’t want to rely on meds to get and feel well.  It meant I was going to have to be pro active.

Sugars are inflammatory, that I knew.  Alcohol, and caffeine were also inflammatory.  I’d heard the nurses often enough tell young women with breast sensitivity to first eliminate caffeine from their diet.

At the time, I was proud of the fact that for my age, I was not on any prescription meds, so it was my goal to keep it that way.  So, in as much pain as I was in, not to mention the pounds I’d put on, I went cold turkey and cut all the above culprits out of my life.

The first to show results was the pain in my back and legs due to swelling began to subside.  Little by little, I was able to stand erect once again, eventually I saw a loss of  weight.

As for keeping off meds, even with my workouts, I’ve finally had to give in to the only one I take – for cholesterol.  That’s it.  I still suffer now and then, but I know what to do and it has never gotten so debilitating.  I sort of wish I could go Vegan or pseudo vegan, but it’s not gonna happen.

As my son would say, “I want meat!”

I don’t have to have it all the time, but now and then.  You know I did write that article about chicken… That’s still on the table, but it is my least favorite. I do like fish though.

Has anyone else found themselves in my shoes?  Having to pick their battles regarding food, time and other life choices or am I the only one?

BTW, I would never attempt that run again even though I’d sure like to go skiing again someday.

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The Greatest Fight In All The World / A Post About Meaning…

I found this truly inspirational and… remember the fight. Thanks James!! Don’t forget to check out his blog and music links.

JamesRadcliffe.com

[Note:  The story that follows is, in part, about a boxing match.  Now I don’t know how you feel about boxing.  You may love it, or you may feel that it is the height of senseless brutality.  I can see both viewpoints.  But this article is not *only* about boxing so, however you feel, read until the end and I promise you a payoff, ok? Good.]

Will I tell you about the greatest boxing match in the history of all the world?

On the 30th of October, 1974 in Kinshasha, Zaire, Mohammad Ali faced off against the most terrifying force boxing had ever seen.  George Foreman was a destroyer of men.  A taker of souls.  Powerful, ferocious, and skilled in equal measure.  To be hit by George Foreman was to be run over by a tank.

Fighters did not get back up.

No one thought Ali could win.  No one. …

View original post 1,555 more words

The Ladies of Burlesque

Queen Bees

Sometimes I wonder what it is that makes anyone, male or female want to take their clothes off in front of others. I’ve given it some thought, but no way in hell would I do it.  Now, if I were ten years younger and had a rockin’ body…?  Well… Uh, No!  At least I don’t think so.

In a way, I wish I could be so bold but I never was or have been.  Heck! I wanted to try out for cheerleader in high school but when it came to my turn, I looked out at the crowd and high tailed it out of there.  I never regretted anything more in my life. Now if you asked me to rock climb or slide down a mountain on ice with only an ice ax to break my fall, well that’s different and I’ve done that. I ran a half marathos and won a cycling race in my age category, I’ve done a century ride (100 miles in a day), climbed mountain peaks… well, you’ve read my stories.  Oh, and I’m scheduled to go sky diving soon, weather permitting, but that’s different.

I’m sure there’s a psychological explanation for that.

Queen Bee’s is a small theater in the North Park area, in San Diego. I went to a Burlesque show and last night I witnessed the most tremendous array of bodies in all sizes, shapes, ages and… ethnicity do just that.  They were simply amazing.  I was in fact impressed and jealous that these women had the guts to do what they did and they did so with gusto and grace.

Backstory:  This was my second time attending and I was sooooo reluctant to go the first time and found so many excuses not to attend again from there on.  Truly.

I – DID – NOT – WANT – TO – GO!!!

But, my sister, who is in the show, insisted.  My hub, said “No way,  I don’t want to see your sister naked!  You go, if you want to!”

I didn’t “want to” but, when Sherene said, “I don’t have anyone in my family I can share this with, except Brian…”  Brian, her husband goes to all of her shows.  Well, once her son J.C. went, but not to see her, but because a friend of his was in the show and invited him. Otherwise, oooh, ick no way!

For my across the globe, across the country, conservative friends, hang on. <Big Smile>

I totally get it.

I also get and would so much like to have someone I could share my screenwriting with, someone that actually gets it and won’t get all hot and bothered when I kill someone off or get upset that a sympathetic character dies or  heaven forbid has sex, or whatever.  My writer sister didn’t want anyone to die, have sex or use “swear” words,  she writes for children so her mind thinks only “G” material and not of the string variety.  I let her read my work once and she “G’d’ it immediately.  What? I’m supposed to use marshmallow guns?  No one dies?  I explained to her that it’s called  an “inciting incident” and a necessary “evil” is a must.  No, no she cried.  That’s not you!   That was the end of that.

Even though, Sherene can’t reciprocate, I do understand the importance of family support.

So, off I go…

I pick Brian up, because he’d had hip surgery and couldn’t drive, but we’re early, so we grab a bite to eat in an old timey diner next to the theater.  Yummy onion rings.

 

We wait in line for the doors to open and once in, I get a gin and tonic and sit in my seat facing forward wondering what in the hell I’m doing there.  I text my husband and ask him “it’s party time, except for me. I feel like such a stick in the mud!  When did I get so old?”, I ask.  He responds, “Sorry, Me too.”  I turn to Brian.

Brian is busy talking to some lady across the aisle from him and it’s loud and I am so unconnected.  A bunch of rowdy women seated behind me catch my eye and ask me if I had someone in the show.

“My sister”, I replied.

“Our Zumba instructor”, they said.  They’d never been and were giggling like school girls. We made friends and suddenly I find myself forced into having a good time.

The Emcee (is that what she’s called?) is a voluptuous redhead with ivory skin in a black corset and silver pointy nails. She never strips.

Burkesque queen

She announces that these girls have been working very hard and are pretty much all beginners and her expectations of the audience was for tear down the wall cheers and clapping.  She  said the audience were all invitees, family and friends of the performers with the exception (she jokingly says) of possibly a “perv” or two in the mix who might have snuck in. “You know who you are”.  Everyone of course laughs.  It was then, I realize she is right.  These were all family and friends of those who would be performing.  A non hostile crowd.  Hmmmm

This is not the strip joint type crowd. It was a small but humble theater. There are two young men sitting in front of me, perhaps in their mid thirties. One had a green Mohawk, but he was well dressed and clean cut looking otherwise. Green though? he was a looker too, quite handsome.  The other young man seemed to be more conservative and equally good looking.  A young lady sits between them, but it appears they are all together.  The crowd was mostly well dressed people and some more so, like they were attending a gala.  There were young (over twenty one because everyone was carded) and old alike. All were quite friendly. In fact, I gathered many were of the artsy types,  so why am I being a snob?  I got over it.

When the show began, it started with two solo routines with rather large women. The women came in all sizes  (boobs and bodies), ages (my sister is in her 60’s) and what surprised me,  varied ethnicity.  I was slightly embarrassed for them (?), not sure, but they were fantastic. There were routines with and without clothes, like hip hop, one with bare minimum, which was a shocker and a ballet spoof at the end. There were young ladies who were extremely fit and more experienced and poised and then there were the moms.  With bodies like any one of us. They obviously had to be fit to do the routines they did, splits, twirls and kicks plus dance but they jiggled in the usual places they might not have when they were young, yet fit.

One especially large gal, strutted her stuff and made sexy moves like she was flirting with her man and him alone.  She went through the whole song, fully dressed and put out more sexuality than most women would scantily dressed.  She smiled and flirted and shook her booty, until the very last. And then, in the last few seconds, she took it off to briefly show her stuff and the crowd roared!!!  I laughed so hard and cheered ……………..  Way to go girl!!!

 

Bees cast 1

They jiggled and they jogged and gave it their all.  Throughout, I watched the conservative young man in front of me, who never yelled but would nod his approval and on occasion stood up and clapped at the exquisite routines, especially of the big gals.  It wasn’t like he knew them but more like he admired them for having the chutzpah to get up there and be proud.

My brother in law Brian, leans into me and said it’s “woman empowerment”.

 

Yes, I could see that.  It wasn’t about showing off your body so much as, this is my body and I’m okay with it!

Pictures were not allowed of the performances, but we did get a group with their teachers. The man in the middle, teaches hip hop and his wife the rest.

Bee's cast

I still can’t figure how they get those “things” to jiggle like they do?

Do they sell that stuff at WalMart?

 

Sherene and I

I’ve had a cold and it sorta shows here. Lookin’ tired. It was way past my bedtime.

Peter Tork and Me

Yes,  for one brief moment, there was a Peter Tork and me…

As I’m sure many of you know and in case you hadn’t heard, Peter Tork of the Monkees just died yesterday.  That may not mean much to most people, but it does to me.

Peter Tork

It was the late 60’s. Our meeting was memorable to say the least.  He was sweet, charming, personable and unassuming.  I was a nut.  He reminded me of someone else I loved and lost years before, but that’s not what made our meeting important.

He twirled me around once when he entered the plane in a lighthearted way.  I thought it was funny (and weird), but other than that I liked it.  When he asked me for a drink…

I carded him.

Yes, I did.  I didn’t recognize him at all.  I just thought he was cute and flirty and I was too busy basking in his attention.  Not in a serious way, but in a fun way.  We always enjoyed and chatted it up with good-natured people.

I was a flight attendant at the time for an airline few people are familiar with, PSA.  Look them up.  I was one of those cute ones, picked by the airline to make the average businessman’s commute interesting and pleasant to be on.  We were selected for our looks  and  personality.

It was mostly a no frills airline, but besides coffee, we offered cocktails.  Even high in the air, we were expected to adhere to the law, so, if there was any doubt in our mind of the person’s age, we carded them.  So, I carded Peter Tork, and…

I never looked at the name on his license, just the DOB!!  So, silly me, had I looked at the name and if I recall the license was out of state,  I might have been in an even greater dither having one of my favorite celebs paying so much attention to me.

It was a light flight so we’d had plenty of time to chit chat, so that was cool

As it was, it wasn’t until the end of the flight when we’d said our goodbye’s that I learned his identity. By then, my fleeting brush with fame had passed.

As he went down the ramp, the station agent came up and said, “Oh, I see you had Peter Tork on your flight!”

Crap!! For real?

Peter tork1

God Bless and condolences to family and friends.

Winter’s Journey

When my grand daughter gave Winter her new home, she was not expecting this.
winter ad
Fortunately with Grandma’s help, we were able to get Winter back.  Apparently the people who took her had their script well rehearsed and Becca thought they would be good for her.

I had worried about this, but years and experience have taught me that people do not value what they’ve not worked for.  That’s why I’m not a big welfare advocate (with some exceptions) and that’s a whole ‘nother blog.  I know there are people who may disagree with me, but somehow those feelings do tend to change when it comes to animals.

In Winter’s situation, I (we) were sick about it. Becca called me crying. I made an appointment with them to come see the puppy, which allowed my kids to go over there and pick her up.  Becca did give them an earful but they didn’t fight her when she took her back.  These folks turned around and changed the phone number on the ad so that I would get the calls. So I did have to suffer through that for a short time.  People who called were apologetic and kind.

It has taken awhile but someone did come along to give Winter a new home.  She’s been renamed Winnie.  What made this new home a blessing is that they did take another puppy, Winnie’s little brother to keep each other company.

DANGERS OF FREE TO GOOD HOME ADS!

DANGERS OF FREE TO GOOD HOME ADS!  This is just one of many horrific examples of what can happen. Google Puppy Doe Kiya.

Free
Winter is happy and two hours away from her family. They shared information and her new family are looking to get her the help she needs.  It appears that “Winnie” does have some sight, which is good news.  If she hears, it’s limited.  It seems as she gets older, she is showing improvement in both those areas.
Here are some more recent pictures.
If you must re-home your pet, please charge a re-homing fee, spay/neuter prior to adoption, call vet references and do two home checks…one before adoption and a second one a few months after adoption. Download an adoption contact online for both parties to sign.
The above information came to us after the fact off my neighborhood website, but I thought I’d share this with you and I hope you will pass it on as well.
Becca knew there was the possibility of future expenses with Winter and thought to be considerate of a future owner, but as you can see not everyone is as they claim to be.  For the safety of your pet, take that extra step.
Winter’s sister, Kahlua is the last one available at $700.
Kahlua Isn’t she a dolly?

Winter – A Special Puppy’s Tale

Hello,  I’m Winter.winter

My great grandma is writing this on my behalf, so I hope you can help us.

You see, I need to find a home that will give me lots of TLC .  My current owner is a sweet, caring single mom, but whose budget and time constraints may not allow her to care for me and my special needs as she would like to. She is already caring for her sister’s child along with her own, plus three other dogs, so her plate is pretty full. I know she’s worried about me, because she wants to be sure I get just the right home with special people who will love me.  I know that finding homes for my siblings will not be so difficult, but me…?

Well, it’s like this… Here is my story and my dilemma.  You see, my mommy was not supposed to get pregnant, so despite my owners efforts, she did and I’m part of an unplanned litter.  The problem is there were so many of us, six of us to start but one of my younger brother’s didn’t make it. I was the oldest.  Unfortunately, I have special needs. I need a home that will not only take good care of me for however long I may live. I feel fine but the vet said it was possible I would have a short life, and also know that there may be some expense in the future. The thing is, we don’t know.

Litter #2
My brothers and sisters with me in the middle.

You see, I was born with some unexpected birth defects. I may be partially blind as my eyes did not fully develop and we still don’t know how much sight I have.  There’s a chance I could be deaf. Until I’m old enough to be tested, we don’t know if I can hear.  Because of these issues training me will take a very special person since my disabilities will make this difficult.  I do, however have an acute sense of smell and touch.

winter puppy
Me at two weeks.

How big will I get?  Weeell, My breeding is: My daddy is a long hair Chihuahua and my mother is a PomChi (half Chihuahua and half Pomeranian), so I won’t get big and right now I’m a cuddly ball of fur.

My grandma’s great aunt, said she’d heard of people who would train and use dogs like me to take to hospitals and places to encourage and teach special needs kids to see that they are not alone and that there are animals with special needs too. It takes their minds off their own problems and brings them much joy.  I’m hoping that I can have a fulfilling life like that.

Kash and Winter
My owners son is rambunctious until it comes to me. He seems to know I need special handling, as you can see.

P.S.  To all Jolie’s Attic followers, if you know anyone who can help us find that special home for Winter, it would be awesome.  She is in Salt Lake City, so I’m really hoping that whoever is interested is close enough to make transporting her easier. She is a sweet, cuddly, puppy.

Whoever gets her will have to know her total needs are unknown and disabilities yet undetermined.

Thank you Jolie

PS  Winter’s story almost ended badly. Check followup story. “Winter’s Journey”

UPDATE:  Winter has found her home with a loving family who knows how to care for a deaf and blind puppy.  They promised to send periodic updates.  So happy for her!!