One Day At A Time

I watched the reunion show last night. It was ok, the three woman sat and talked about the show, and a few insights were shared. 'Schneider'joined them for the last half. My daughter watched with me, and she thought it looked cute, the styles have come back around, and it was fairly ahead of it's time regarding sex and dating, so even my son was interested.

30 years ago, I wanted to be Barbara. She had the hair, the clothes, the body. She was the good girl. I was more Julie. Troublemaker, awkward. It dawned on me though, that now I'm the mom. I'm the divorced mother with two kids, just trying to get by and raise them to be the best they can be.

One day at a time.

Rain

Ok ... really. I am so over this rain. It's pouring, we had a water spout/tornado here this afternoon. My patio and plants have drowned. The dripping from the gutter is like the chinese water torture.

Yeah, yeah it could be snow, or ice. But really, enough is enough.

Celebrity

So why do people become infatuated with celebrities? What would cause a normally sane, rational person to become a blithering idiot when next to an actor, or athlete. They get paid for pretending, or for playing a game.

How many people are reducing to jello by standing next to a pediatric or heart surgeon? Someone who can hold a heart in his hands and fix it? To, with god's help, give life to someone who may be near the end.

Blind Love

Playing: Annachi Gordon
Artist: Daniel Kobialka

Is it possible to fall in love with someone you've never seen? I've read stories of couples who met on the internet. Who say they fell in love just by the words each other wrote. But what if when you see the person, there's nothing there. No chemistry, no attraction. Can love really be blind? Can you be so crazy about someone that no matter what they look like you still love them?

I'd like to think so.

Old Posts

I'm starting to miss my old posts. I still think they're out there somewhere. I can't understand how I deleted them.

Several of my old memory and dream stories have been running through my head, I'm going to try the get them all rewritten as soon as possible. They'll be interspersed with some new stuff. And I've started another short story.

I blame my computer for this completely. It couldn't have been my fault!

Football talk

So - I've decided to leave my chat room. (hmm, second blog tonight, I really am going to need help with this withdrawal!)

My favorite part of it all was posting during football games this past fall. For most of the day it was just me and one other person, a fan of my biggest rival. Sometimes others would drop in. But he made the games fun.

I hope I can find a way to let him will know how much he meant to me. And how much I'll miss him.

Chat Room Addiction

A couple of years ago, I started lurking at a chat room devoted to one of my dirty little vices, the TV show Big Brother. Occasionally I would post something, but then some nasty person would take issue with my opinion (i.e. the fact that BB1 was the best), so usually I just hung out in the background. This year I decided to stick it out. After Big Brother ended, it was even more fun. We would talk, and play silly games, Inquiring Minds Want To Know, stuff like that. I found myself beginning to care about some of the posters. Family stories were shared, it really was like one big disfunctional family. Crazy people, sweet people. Oh, a few I avoided, but even the ones I didn't post with were amusing to read.

And now I find myself ready to leave this little family. It's too bad really, it was a fun place. I wish that one person hadn't ruined the whole thing for me. Silly, immature games, and posting and deleting at different sites. Accusing others of awful things. I've raised my children. I don't need, nor want, to deal with that level of maturity any more.

Now if I can just get through the withdrawal.

Sir Paul McCartney

This morning in my school's daily paper, there was an editorial by the student director regarding commercials, most notably during the Super Bowl. Normally I wouldn't have paid much attention, but I caught McCartney's name in the second paragraph, and that's what set me off.

This student referred to the half-time show as "a sing-along for the elderly in the form of Paul McCartney's performance." As one who has followed Sir Paul's career since watching him on The Ed Sullivan show, I took great issue with the implication that he, and his followers, are over the hill. What follows is my reply. We'll see if they publish it.

Apparently [name withheld](“The real offenses go unnoticed on TV” 2/9/05 editorial) was unimpressed with the Super Bowl Halftime show. I reference her snub of Paul McCartney’s performance as being a sing-along for the elderly (although the typo said eldery) and part of a mundane show. I realize the point of her article was to criticize the commercials, but I can’t let this comment go without giving my opinion.

I didn’t remember any elderly people on the field. I saw mostly teens and 20-somethings enjoying the show, singing, jumping, waving their arms. Although I consider elderly as 70-75 and over, I enjoyed it immensely myself, so I suppose I’m in that elderly group at 45.

Maybe when she grows up, and has enough life experience to be qualified to judge true talent, she’ll understand that the halftime performance last Sunday was more appreciated and enjoyed, by more people around the country and the world, than any current genre pop performer ever could have been. It’s common practice to make fun and ridicule that which you don’t understand. Sara, come to me in 40 years with any current pop-tart or teen idol who is around, if there are any, and let’s see if they can command the respect and adoration that Sir Paul McCartney still commands today. Your generation has been brought up to believe that a good show involves flashy costumes and pyrotechnics. With music so loud you can’t hear the singer (often a good thing). My generation had the loud music, and the older folks didn’t understand, but the performers who have lasted, and who can still sell out giant stadiums, are the ones who could sing. The legends. Like Paul McCartney.

And here’s a news flash for you – the world really doesn’t revolve around people your age.


2/9/05 Update - The paper did publish this today. Good for them. Excellent taste.

Boyfriend?

During last night's call to mom, she mentioned her 'boyfriend.' Now, she has, until this point, steadfastly refused to consider this man anything more than a very old, dear friend. When she returned to Memphis last year, she needed an attorney to update her will. Her best friend from HS suggested mom call her brother-in-law, Tom, who mom knew in school. Tom took care of her legal stuff, then asked her to dinner. According to mom, Tom had 'several fillies in the barn' but she was lonely, and after all, it was just dinner. Since then they have been out several times, and he's been to her house often for dinner. She talkes about how much fun they have, how they laugh, how wonderful it is to share time in the kitchen cooking a meal.

Now she calls him her boyfriend. When I called her on it, she said that that was an ok term to use, but no, she would never marry. They are both commitmentphobes. And considering she has incurable cancer, she wouldn't do that to someone.

I'm glad she has someone. And interestingly, he now only has one or two lady friends.

I do wish though that I didn't get so wistful when she talks about having fun in the kitchen and how nice it feels to have someone interested in her.

It puts a kink in that 'alone' armour I wear.

I Imagine

Somewhere out there, there's a kind, considerate man who has no idea that I think about him all the time. He writes intelligently, he's funny, we have the same interests. I know he values family, but I don't think he has any close relatives. He is respectful, which I don't see in many men these days.

It's ridiculous how the mind can conjure up images. I think about how he may look. What his life is like. I imagine visiting him, seeing his world.

I guess it's probably better to just keep imagining.

Reality sucks sometimes.

Erased

With one click, or maybe a few, I've managed to erase all of my entries from the past few months. I have no idea what happened, I was trying to move them from one site to another, and they're gone. I guess it's a good thing I don't take my writing as seriously as some people.

So, now, I guess I can make a new start. Should be interesting to see what kind of mood my posts start to take. I hope they're not as negative as they were. I would like to think they'll be better, but I can only do so much.

Stay tuned.