Henry David Thoreau Rocks!

As part of the Health for Life class, one of the first things I was tasked with, was writing a vision statement. They were very focused on being positive and not beating up on yourself. The example provided began "To be healthy, fit and enegetic so that I can enjoy life to the fullest and have enegergy to pursure my goals..."

I thought it sounded kinda cheesy, but its been almost two months and what I put on paper and shared with the group really resonates with me and it has served as an inspiration when I have a tough day or week. Here is what I wrote:

Vision Statement

I found this great a magnet that says "live the life you have imagined" (a variation on a Thoreau quote) I bought it and put it up same day... it was the only thing on the front of fridge.

Before my car accident 2006, I was doing just that. I had been overweight for more than a decade and that magnet was my call to action! I decided to change. I worked really hard and went from a size 16 to a size 6.

I smiled at that magnet every day, almost as much as I smiled at my reflection. I enjoyed shopping for clothes and I had a lot of energy. I enjoyed food too. I didn't starve or deprive myself. I felt healthy, slept well and being active was part of who I was. Being happy healthy and content spilled over into other parts of my life. I was more creative, more social and more successful. The accident was a setback. It's been a long road to recovery and finding the willpower, motivation and strength to get back to that place has been a challenge. I have also come to understand that the only thing stopping me, has been me not starting :)

I am older and I won't have the same shape as before, but that's not important - what matters is the feeling I had about myself and my achievments.

I made me smile.

So now I have to look at the magnet with fresh eyes and just start living the life I have imagined, being the me I have imagined... 


 

A year of moi

Last year was a blur. I realized that while I had made a lot of professional achievements, I hadn't made many personal ones.

I had been in decent shape quite a few years ago, then I was involved in a car accident. It tore up my knee pretty good and it took quite a few years of therapy, and ultimately surgery to get my knee into usable condition. I still can't wear all my fabulous heels, but I still have hope...

After the surgery, I didn't want to ruin the work that the docs did and my knee was holding so I didn't want to mess with a good thing. So I just let it be. A couple more years passed and there I was, back up in weight, not working out in any fashion, and my blood pressure was starting to feel the effects of my sedentary lifestyle.

I was mad and depressed. I stopped looking in the mirror and was beating myself up for letting it get so out of hand.

Then this little voice, tucked deep in my soul, pointed out that I wasn't dead.

I could wallow, or I could do something about it.

So I didn't make a resolution or anything, I just decided to make 2013 all about me. I decided to put me first, be selfish or at least honest with what I wanted.

I joined a gym and enrolled in a 10 week healthy living class and I made a commitment to eat to fuel my body, not my emotions.

So here I am at now at a point where I am ready to start sharing the journey I have been on. I hope this added level of accountability will help me achieve greater success. I hope documenting it, will help me apreciate it all the more.

As Ferris Bueller said "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

It's the end of the world as we know it...

Okay, so this has nothing to do with the Mayan calendar doomsday crap.

No, the fact is, that every time a read a story on Sandy Hook, I fall apart. I start crying. I feel lost. It's not that this tragedy was the worst... yes, it pained me more than I can articulate, but no less than any other horrific happening in my lifetime.

It was however, my tipping point. I always held some faith in humanity and believed that somehow everything would be okay in a big picture kind of way. But Sandy Hook was the proverbial straw...

There are evil, damaged, sick, insane, and disturbed people among us and even more waiting to be born. Men, women and children, some with well thought out ill intents, others, living in a haze of mental illness that could snap at any moment.

It could be at a school, an office, the mall, church, on vacation, the subway, in a park, ... It could be inside your own house.

I have know for some time they were there, but is it just me, or are their numbers growing?

Are they reproducing? Is their something in our pesticides or the million other chemicals we expose ourselves to that is attacking human decency?

I don't have any answers, but I have to say that I have officially lost my innocence... it's not coming back. I guess I did pretty good holding onto it for over 40 years...

It sucks that I feel this way. I now see the possibility of a random act of violence, playing into my longevity. I was so much cheerier when all I had to contend with was a family history of high blood pressure, diabetes, heart disease, stroke and Alzheimer's.

The odds will probably just get worse. People are getting more twisted and we feed their sicknesses and provide them with ample means to their ends.

But this is it, my feeble stand. I won't hide-out, worried that the Big Bad is going to get me. I am not going to arm myself "just in case". There is no point. I could lead a great life, do everything right, know what to do in every worst-case-scenario and I could still wind up a skin suit for some psycho... or caught in some random killing spree as I go to buy a pack of gum.. or yes, I could get lucky and live to be 90 (but hey, refer back to family history and let's be real).

Either way, all this reinforces, that if I only have today... or if I have another 40+ years, there is no way to predict how or when I shall meet my demise. So, I will err on the side of caution and live the days that I do have, the best I can... and do all the things good (and bad) that I would be pissed about not having done... if the reaper were circling.

Wanna see something really scary?

I am a horror film enthusiast.

I love that feeling you get as the "big bad" is closing in on its unsuspecting prey. Not too unlike the thrill I get from a roller coaster. Good horror, will frighten the bugeesus out of me and I won't be able to sleep right for days. It will play tricks on my sensibilities, leaving me vulnerable and checking every shadow for signs of something sinister.

I know the response is a self-preservation mechanism and in a real world situation, I should run. So, yes, my real life horror flick would last less than 5 minutes...

"Wow, baby, this is beautiful. We got chandelier hangin' up here, kids outside playin', it's a beautiful neighborhood, I really love - this is beaut--"

[demonic whisper] "Get out!"

"Too bad we can't stay!"

Thank you Mister Murphy.

But for my film fear jonze, I stay and endure (knowing rationally that its not real and that I am safe... right?) I love the chill that creeps up my spine, the race in my pulse, quickened breath and the urge to turn on every light in a 3-mile radius.

That being said, its been a really long time since any film has frightened me to the core. Am I jaded? Have I seen it all? Is my flight response busted? Or is it that today's horror masters, just aren't that scary?

Sigh... there's tons of gruesome stuff out there to make you squirm or simply induce anxiety, from traditional "splatter films" to the oh-so-trendy "torture porn" genre and there's also plenty of cheap ploys to make the viewer jump (loud sound effects/music swells, 'effen cats jumping out of nowhere, etc.)

But what about the fear, like when you were a kid and you knew the boogie man was real and he was coming for you? You would lie paralyzed with the knowledge that tonight might be the night. Afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Afraid to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. Feeling like you were going to burst and wondering what was worse... the-th-th-th-thing-under-the-bed... or explaining to your mom that you'd wet the bed?

It's Halloween - my favorite day of the year - and I am having a movie marathon featuring some of my all-time favorite films along with some new aquisitions that I have never seen before and I hope I am so scared, I pee my pants :)

We'll see... maybe one day there will be a release that comes with a Depends®

ohmygoshflushotssuuuuuck

I know I need them, I have wicked asthma and I am in a high risk group. I try every year to avoid it, cause well, I'm a weenie and I hate needles. It totally wigs me out to think of a sliver of metal be plunged into my bod. It's just not right.

Anyway my doc, who is truly fabulous and funny, hoofnagled me into it today. She pulled out all the stops, recounting my asthma induced trips to the ER when I didn't even have a cold, much less the flu, and the last two intensive care patients she treated for pneumonia complications after the flu "ah... if they had only gotten that little shot..." The she claimed she wouldn't force me... but then said the heck with that and wrote it up anyway. With a sinister smile, she backed out of the room, hands held up oh-so-non-threatening, like she was tip toeing out of a lion's den. "Okay" she cooed "you just stay right there and we might even get you a lolly after."

So they stabbed me and pumped me full of dead viral chicken eggs, I bled like crazy, I now am achy and crazy dehydrated and there were absolutely no lollys for my pain and suffering!

Dipping a toe back in

Okay, so I have been out of the blog "pond" for a while.

I found that doing short posts via Facebook or Twitter was easier to manage than writing what I felt was the appropriate length blog. I mean, if I want people to read it, shouldn't I write something pithy or profound or at the very least, interesting?

Well that lead to me putting way to much pressure on what I chose to write, and ultimately I fell into "if you can't write anything nice, don't write anything at all" cycle. And there you have it, kaput no postings in a couple of years.

I've decided to go about things a bit differently this time around. Some posts may about to a quote or an exclamation... some may be a 3-page essay. I might share a photo or a recipe or a link. I might post twice in one day or have a week and a half lag between... I don't know and that's kind of the point, I think.

Stay tuned :)

J

Social networks... the death of social etiquette

Many of us probably belong to a social networking site or two or three. There are games, gifts, quizzes and much more for people to invite and share with friends, relatives and acquaintances.

In this virtual society, social etiquette appears to be a thing of the past. Forget spell check, there needs to be a blasted "Miss Manners" button anywhere people can write text!

People have sent me "Feel your bOObies!!" a group for breast cancer awareness, while a great group, was the invite really about awareness or was the point to be crude, funny or sexy? Anyway, I ignored that invite. Sorry boobies. I'm engaged to be married and the type of person I am, no one would ever say that to me in person much less in front of my fiancé. So why is it okay to send the request? Wait, its on the web, so it's not real, right?

People comment and are trying to be witty or funny and a great deal of it nowadays leans to lewd. We keep upping the ante of what socially acceptable on TV, film, games and all other media. Recently two of my fiancé’s professional associates, made comments with mildly sexual innuendo on his wall in Facebook and that's a public area. No matter how well they think they know him, they sure don't know me and I'm sure would never say those things in front of me, but that's exactly what they did. The question becomes are people who do that, just that stupid, or do they have so little respect for their friend and/or his or her partner?

On Myspace there’s that whole posting an image/html in the comments (a feature I disabled on mine - thank you very much) which has allowed people to post half naked ladies and men with a funny quip or my personal favorite… an image with a gazillion hearts saying they are thinking of you. Are you serious? Hearts? When is it ever okay to send someone else’s squeeze a sweet nothing?

Some of the things that come out of peoples "fingers" on Facebook, Myspace, Friendster, Plaxo, Twitter etc. astounds me. The entire world is watching and reading and unless you have an intimate relationship with someone and you both are totally cool with your business be out there... come on people, use some sense.

Here are a few questions that may help filter out the inappropriate.

Would you say it at a dinner party or in front of the person’s spouse/bf/gf/partner?

If you did, might a brawl ensue?

Would your mom/dad/grandparent be mortified and exclaim, "[insert your first, middle and last name here] what were you thinking? You were raised better than that!!!!"

I could go on...

okay I will...

Would you send it/say it to someone of the same sex? (or alternate sex, for people in same sex relationships)

If you said it/sent it as work might you get sued for harassment?

If your spouse/bf/gf/partner found out about it, would they give you the silent treatment for a period of time and then use it against you later during a fight?

If any of these scenarios lead to someone needing to attend anger management classes, it's a clue you should STOP... and step away from the keyboard. Don't post stuff that could at the very least make your friends, family or acquaintances uncomfortable... and at most could get you on a very insulted significant others shit list.

By all means, please leave PG comments, send well wishes, game invites, and those "where did you grow up?" quizzes... but leave the "What's your Sex Style?" quiz to the person they share their bedroom with.

Change is Good

I am half black and half white.

I am in an interracial relationship.

I have friends and family of all races, religions, political affiliations and sexual orientations.

I have experienced racism from both sides of my heritage and beyond.

I have waited for 40 years to see change, to see a world that was more like my own family - blacks, whites, democrats, republicans, gays, straights, young, old, right and left coming together. Agreeing to disagree, yet still looking for common ground to stand upon.

I believe, last night was the beginning...

Michael J Fox and more...

This is the full Michael J Fox interview with Katie Couric on CBS as well as Keith Obermann's piece on Rush Limbaughs comments (including footage from Limbaugh's radio broadcast)

http://www.cbsnews.com/sections/i_video/main500251.shtml?id=2129742n

http://video.msn.com/v/us/msnbc.htm?g=0d1a3a94-99eb-46b8-8920-baeb9b40b195&f=00&fg=copy

I am a Democrat and I think that is because I was raised a Democrat. It's all that I was taught. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but now as an adult I find that voting strictly along party lines is not always in my best interest.

Over the past 10 years, I've come to vote based on the issues, not party lines. Michael J. Fox rallys for both Democrats and Republicans. In this interview, he makes mention of Arlen Spector from a Republican from Pennsylvania as being "his guy" and also Mike Castle, a Republican Congressman from Delaware that also supports stem cell research. I voted for Castle as I campaigned for Democratic Senator Tom Carper and will continue to do so as long as Mr. Castle continues to be the best choice to represent my political views.

Towards the end of the interview there is a clip of a response ad. In it, Patricia Heaton (Everyone Loves Raymond) comments on how low income women could be seduced by big checks. I qualify as low income, but that does not mean that I will do anything for money. As an infertile woman, any embryo I create is invaluable to me. She also describes egg extraction as being an extremely complicated, dangerous and painful procedure. I don't know if Ms. Heaton knows from experience, but I do. I have gone though the egg retrieval process. The egg extraction is not that complicated, a needle is guided via ultrasound into the abdomen and the eggs are extracted from the surface of the ovaries. I was completely sedated and not aware during the procedure, so I did not feel a thing. After the procedure my stomach was tender in some spots, but it was nothing severe. As far as danger, there can be complications with any medical procedure no matter the complexity. In truth, I experienced more complications after having my wisdom teeth extracted.

Personally, the most painful part of the procedure was the fact that it was not successful. The loss and pain of infertility and not being able to have a family trumps the minimal physical stresses of invitro. If I can never create life, I would settle for being able to save one. It is why I am an organ donor. I would never offer a viable embryo, as long as there's a chance that it could become my son or daughter. But in the case non-viable embryos, I would prefer that they not be discarded or considered to be medical waste. Unfortunately I was never asked about it. It pains me even more now to know that there may have been something I could have done to help others and was unaware. I'm sure there are women and men who would not want their embryos used in any fashion and I think they have every right to say no. But for the people who want to do so, there should be a system in place to facilitate it.

This isn't just about Parkinson's, this medical research offers hope to people suffering from a number of ailments including Alzheimer's, spinal cord injuries, and ALS. Treatment and/or cures may be 15 years off, but to me, that's all the more reason not to delay any longer.

This whole debate has brought me to this conclusion: I will support politicians regardless of party affiliation, that support my beliefs so that my beliefs are represented and my voice is heard.

There are a number of questions raised on both side, investigate them, ask questions and make informed decisions. Read up on ALL the issues, decide what's important to you and vote based on the best candidate. Doesn't matter if its Democrat, Republican or Independent. Go to 'get to know you' meetings for the oposition, read policies, check out how they've voted in the past. You may come away with renewed faith in your candidate or a change of heart. Its more work, but we will all be better represented and our country will be better off in the long run.

Be in the know and then go vote on November 7th, then start researching for 2008.

If it looks like a bigot....

What the hell are the powers that be over at the Survivor offices thinking?

The next season plans to divide the contestants by race for the compettition (like the world isn't divided enough) keeping blacks, whites, Latinos and Asians separate.

The show has made statements that Survivor is a social experiment and that this just adds another layer and that it was in response to claims that survivor is diverse enough.

Give me a flippin break!!! Add more people of color, religions, or sexual orientation, but don't use a clearly separtist, bigoted format and then try to spin doctor the racism away. I for one, am not that stupid. The whole separate but equal line didn't work the 1st time around.

Survivor need to have its butt kick off our island... hell, our planet.

Shame on them, CBS and Jeff Probst...

Loving My Heritage

Okay so this is not what it seems. I am referring to www.myheritage.com and their celebrity face recognition software.

I had read an article on MSN about the site and went to see what all the hubbub was about.

You upload a photo (which is no doubt sent to the FBI for processing) and then their uber nifty face recognition software maps your face to the celebrities in their database. You get a list of 10 celebs (with their photos along side yours) and the percentage of matching facial characteristics.

You can submit multiple photos for recognition if you want to get a larger sampling.

Okay so I wasn't going to submit a photo, I already know who people say should play me in a TV movie of the week. But then another friend posted his results (which were hilarious - from Robin Gibb to Yogi Berra) and I just had to know.

My matches were:

1. Jennifer Lopez
2. Tyra Banks
3. Michelle Rodriguez
4. Ashley Judd
5. Jessica Alba
6. Natalie Wood
7. Rachel Corrie
8. Halle Berry
9. Eva Longoria
10. Jada Pinkett Smith

Now while I don't really look like most of these people while I'm moving and breathing (though I have gotten the JLo comparison before) there are many similarities in the still photos. Same cheeks, similar noses and or eyes...

Anyway, its a fun exercise and hey, anything to make the FBI's job easier....

Bad Dreams

Ever have a dream so real, you had to make sure it didn't happen... or wasn't going to?

I had a dream the other night about a girlfriend of mine. In the dream we were still living at the apartment complex where we 1st met. We've both moved a couple of times since then in the real world. My dream wasn't set in the past, it was current day, only we'd never moved.

The basics of the dream were that we'd been to a product party (like tupperware or something) and our orders had arrived. We were really excited and wanted to take them into our respective abodes and tear the packges open.

It was a warm summer day and there were a number of neighbors and friends milling about. The doors to our 2nd floor garden style apartments were side by side as we ran up the stairs we could still hear one another pretty easily.

As I neared the top, I heard my friend say oh noooooo kinda low and I stopped in my tracks. Then she frantically started repeating 'take it out' 'take it out' 'take it out'. Then the screaming started.

I all my life I've never heard such pain and horror blended into one cry. I was frozen on the stairs, paralyzed with fear.

Everyone that was nearby started running toward the screams and trying to help. I caught faint 'oh dear gods' and other exclaimations as they saw whatever it was that happened. I never felt more sick and afraid. I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything.

The screaming was increasingly unitelligible and boardered on insanity. Suddenly the screams traveled down the stairs, she was running out the door clutching what must have been her hand. My heart stopped beating in that moment and I couldn't bear anymore and I wrenched myself awake.

It was 4:11 am and I was a wreck. Literally shaking and could not go back to sleep.

What was I supposed to do? Convince myself it was just a dream and that I was being silly or call her and make sure she was okay? Well at 4 in the morning, calling (no matter how well intentioned) might be frowned upon. So I opted to get online (she's a night owl) and see if she was there, which she wasn't and instead sent the following email:

re: are you okay?
color me crazy.... had a bad dream and just wanted to check in on you...

When she called me at the crack of dawn I nearly jumped through the roof with joy. Of course she wanted to know what I had dreamed and I really didn't want to tell her the horrible things that had been in my head. It was bad enough that I had to be freaked out by it. But she's into dreams and their meanings so I eventually relented.

I know I'm weird, but I felt so much better after, saying out loud chased the boogie man back into the closet.

Does This Blog Make Me Look Fat?

I am overweight

Obese.

I filled out one of those online charts for height/weight, blah, blah, blah, and it said I was headed for heart attack city. Can I just say how much those charts suck?

I am a curvy size 12 and I get looked at... guys try to pick me up... but still I am obese.

I walk... I do pilates... I eat okay.... but still I am obese.

The most amazing part is that I used to be a size 18, I wonder what catagory I was in then.

The chart wants me to be what I'm guessing will be a size 3 ... and that will be healthy.... no butt, no boobs, built like a 12 year old boy. Yeah whatever!

This the real world.. so you tell me, does this blog make me look fat?

Life Is Too Short

I don't know how things like this happen. We're young and we're not supposed to die now. We're supposed to get grey and wrinkly and have wistful trips down memory lane and long for days gone by.

My friend Buddy and I we're no lie, like peanut butter and jelly. We met when he came in to my company for an interview and we both knew the moment we met that we were already friends.

Buddy loved to dance. For about a year we went clubbing twice a month at this little club in Delaware called the renaissance (sadly no longer open). Every so often we'd hit Woody's in Philly for a change of pace. We were amazing dance partners, perfect heights, totally intuitive and comfortable. We even had our own song, "Alway Be My Baby'" by Mariah Carey. When it got played we would scream and run for the dance floor and then ham it up (ala Fred & Ginger) as we belted it out to each other. Other patrons usually moved a foot away from us at that point :)

He eventually left our company for greener pastures and moved to NY and though we saw each other a bit less, we still talked and got together when ever we could and let me tell you, the dancing in NY was fab (hello, um... Can you say Shampoo?)

Fast forward a few years and a few jobs later, Buddy moved to sunny Florida where he had family. Now here's the toughie, its not so easy to pick up and run to FL to hang. Grrrr. I really needed to get a private jet....

For the last few years we didn't get to see each other face to face. All of our contact was via the phone and we slipped into a once every couple of months to check on each other, and every holiday and birthday. The calls were always marathons to tell each other every little thing that had happened since the last time we talked.

Last year in October I went to Florida for vacation and had plans to see Buddy. It was a pretty big deal, cause I wanted to introduce him to my new beau (who's family has a place down there) Buddy of course wanted to give him the once over and make sure he was good enough for me (blah gotta love the big brother act). But the universe in its infinite wisdom decided to throw a hurricane at me and due to some evacuations, I had to end my vacation early (by about half) and go home without seeing Buddy. So we planned to try again later this year....

But now that will never happen.

Buddy had been in the hospital for a month with double pneumonia when he died and a couple of weeks later a friend of his was going through his phone and found an entry for 'kitty kat' (his um pet name for me). No one realized it was me, it was a private thing between us. He did a corny Pepi la pue accent and would always greet me with "ello kitty kat"... Don't ask. Fortunately the friend called me anyway.

Now my Buddy is gone and even though we ended every phone call with 'love you' it still doesn't seem like enough. He knew I loved him and I know he loved me but I still wish I could have told him one more time.

Buddy had been with me through rough break-ups, new loves, moving, quitting smoking, gaining weight, losing weight, infertility treatments, starting my own business, getting married, getting separated... Through 14 years of life's ups and downs.

The moral here... Even if you're divided by a continent or ocean. Do everything you can to keep in touch and see your friends. Tell them how much they mean to you and never assume that there will be a 'next time' you just never know where life will take you. I imagine every day is the last... Is there someone that you would want to see or talk to... Well.. what are you waiting for?

Such a slacker!

Okay so I haven't posted to my blog for quite sometime. I have plenty of drafts of things I wanted to say but never really finished. So instead of letting another day go by, I am posting something dangit!

hopefully this will jumpstart things and there will be more to come :)

Pretty in Pink

In exploring more of my feminine side. I have started gravitating toward the color pink.

I had always though that it wasn't a commanding color. I am partitial to black. I feel strong and mysterious in black.

I bought a cropped pink short sleeve sweater, one of those ones with the tie at the bust and I felt pretty. I never really thought about how it feels to feel pretty. Let myself blush and be feminine. So I am going with it and trying it on for size for a while.

Man Of My Dreams

My mother has reffered to me as a gay man trapped in a woman's body.

My parents were hippies. I was born in the sixties to an interracial couple. An all out flower-power-ring-of-daisies-in-my-hair-home-made-clothes-peace-sign-necklace-wearing kid. You know the type. Many of my extended family (related by love, not blood) where different races, religions and sexual orientations.

I grew up with aunts that had wives and uncles with husbands. My parents sent me to Quaker school and there I had friends that had 2 mommies and/or 2 daddies. It was no different in my world than having 1 mommy and 1 daddy. Black could be with white, Love was love.

So cut to my teenage years, I was completely drawn to boys/celebrities that (unfortunately) turned out to be gay. Not to say they were feminine. Au contraire! I like a manly man, which they were. And while they thought I was fabulous, I might have been there soul mate if I'd just been a boy... sigh. There was just a certain something an understandning or a connection that I felt with a gay male that just wasn't there usually with the straight ones. But its wasn't by any means a loss, I have a number of really amazing male friends that love me and have no ulteriour motives... lol

So now many (MANY) years later I think I know what I have been looking for all this time.

I want it all!!!!! I want a manly man that can protect me (Grrrr) and cry when our 1st child is born. He can sweep me off my feet, literally, (I'm not a wisp of a girl) and make me melt inside with just a look.

Basically my inner girl has been searching for a romance novel hero. That gruff, manly rouge, with the heart and soul of a poet. Which (in many instances) means he's gay. Gahhhhh!

One of my guilty pleasure is trashy romance reads... the hero's are so flawed and that makes them all the more yummy. They are rough and stubborn, and in the end they are perfect.

Going to the dogs...

I have become totally fixated as of late... With mans best friend.

I have had an overwhelming urge to buy a uber cute wee dog. Uber-cutes being totally in the eye of the beholder, cause I wants to get me a chihuahua. And not just any chihuahua... I am dying for one of those shakey, big old forehead and pop eyed pups... y'know one of those pups that's soooo ugly its cute?

(I know I have issues with the whole "so ugly its cute" thing)

So, I have been pouring over photos of pooches, trying to find (reasonably priced), the next love of my life.

Currently, I am leaning toward getting a light (white or cream) chihuahua and naming it "Susie Cream Cheese" so getting a girl may be a plus, but who says a boy cant bear that moniker?

The history behind this, is that my grandmother had a chihuahua. I big fat one named Ginger. Ginger was spoiled and ate people food every day. My grandmom, would prepare a plate for the dog... Breakfast, lunch and dinner! Her tummy basically dragged on the floor. And boy was she evil. Meanest little dog I've ever run across. I would have thought the cholesterol alone would have done her in, but I'm guessing the reaper wasn't anxious to have her either.

Ginger used to attack my brother on a regular basis. Biting anything on him that she could reach. When she was young, she'd leap in the air to nip at his face. As her girth increased, his Achiles tendon was what she longed for. The dog was ornery, but fortunately used to tolerate me if I laid on the floor and let her sit on my back. I guess, she felt like she was reigning over me that way.

My grandmother had a habit of mixing us up... Yes, me and the dog. I got called Ginger on the regular. To her credit, she always corrected herself... Though I was always waiting for an exasperated "whoever you are!" or "oh, you know your name!"

When I decided I wanted a chihuahua it seemed fitting that it should be named after my grandmother. The added bonus is that "Susie Cream Cheese" was my mom's nickname and it'll totally tweak her nerves if I named my dog that. I'm a total stinker!

Another option is to get a black & white pup male or female and naming it Oreo. For obvious reasons, it would be a funny family joke. I enjoy taking the angst of my childhood and wearing it loud and proud.

Okay just a a sidebar, if my angst reference was too vague, here's the skinny. I am multiracial... black, white, Indian and a whole bunch of other crap. Growing up, I was called an oreo, among other things (fodder for another post) so I claim the word to take the power out of it. Okie back to the puppy...

Color really doesn't matter though (yes, read into that what you will). I really want a petite little guy that I can carry around in a purse when he's full grown... Its so obnoxious... So me. If I can find a really small boy, I give him a name like Killer or Bruiser or Goliath. Yes... I know, I have no sense whatsoever.

Though its not all about the joke. I really want a good dog that I can spoil a bit and take places with me. With their recent rise in popularity in the celebrity realm, purse dogs get let into far more situations that another dog would be banned from.

Chihuahua's are great dogs, they don't take up much room, they can be little box trained, and the usually get on well with cats and kids. The little buggers are great guard dogs. While they can't put a huge hurtin on someone, they'll try if they need to protect their family. Big dog personas trapped in a small dog. Very Napoleon-esque.. wait, another name possibility...

What's not to love with a mug like this?

Remembering

With everything that was going on with hurricane Katrina, I felt that 9/11 got pushed to a back burner. When that tragedy occured, I made the following post to my website:

We the people...

...the land of the free and the home of the brave

One nation under God indivisible...

Our nation faced a great tragedy on September 11th 2001.Terrorists attacked and destroyed the World Trade Center, killing thousands of civilians.A short time later they attacked the Pentagon, also ending hundreds of lives.

During the rescue effort at the World Trade Center, extreme structural damage caused both towers to collapse. Hundreds of police, fire fighters and rescue personnel lost their lives.

Americans and visitors of all nationalities perished on Tuesday...... African American, Caucasian, Indian, Latin, European, Asian, Middle Eastern and countless others.

We were targeted by a terrorist group, not a country, not a race of people.

As Americans, it now is the time to come togetherand show our assailants our unflinching spirit.We are one nation....of brothers and sisters, of mothers and fathers, of husbands and wives,of sons and daughters, of friends and neighbors.

Show the world what it means to be American!

Strength In Unity

Where were you that day, what were you doing when you found out? I was on the phone with a girlfriend when I got another call to turn on the television. I switched over and told her to turn on the TV. We sat on the phone silent, staring in disbelief, trying to make sense of what was we were seeing. We didn't know our lives were about to change... then, the second plane hit and the realization set in.

We quickly got off the phone.

I called everyone I knew, everywhere, not just in New York. My father and best friend both worked in highrise buildings in Philadelphia.

I was frantic.

I sat stunned for hours watching the television. Worried about countless people I didn't even know. I cried as I watched... I cried for days... I still cry when I think on it too long.

It was a moment in history... one that should be given a moment, acknowledged, and remembered.

What's in a word....

Refugee:
one that flees; especially: a person who flees to a foreign country or power to escape danger or persecution

Why is it that during any other disaster in U.S. history, the victims have been called just that, victims? During a mass exodus they are oft times called evacuees. But not until 2/3 of them are African American does the term refugee come into play.

The devastation of New Orleans and surrounding areas brings to light an interesting topic of how far we've come.

The news outlets have shown images of looters and lawlessness. It's true that there were people taking advantage, but there were far more that are hungry, hurt and trying to survive.
Was it the images that were seen that made people think of the word refugee? Yes these people were fleeing, but from a storm, not a country. While it may have been technically accurate, the word had never been used that way before... Was it the images of minorities walking through a devastated wasteland? If it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck then it, must me a duck? If so, then everyone needs to take a good hard look at themselves.

If it looks like a bigot and sounds like a bigot... Well, how fair is that?

It doesn't matter how innocent the faux pas was originally and how many people thought it was acceptable to jump in and use the word. The problem is that it took the people that were offended, primarily the African American community, to point out why it was offensive and ask for it to be stopped.

There are so many words that have hurt. One group hasn't cornered the market. Weather to describe a minority, a lifestyle, a belief, a look, a size, or a gender, words that defame and breed ill will are wrong and poisonous to our society.

There have been words stricken from most everyone's vocabulary as "derogatory" but any word can be derogatory with the proper intent.

I am bi-racial, and as a child I referred to myself by a common term.

If you don't know the term, I'm not gonna teach it to you. Count yourself uber cool to not have that information in your mental rolodex.

Anyway, I used this term with pride what I was when they asked “what are you?” (oh, and that question is fodder for another post - I'm big on fodder you'l come to learn). It was until my teen years that I discovered the term I had been using was derogatory. Much like a term given to African Americans… which I had also been called, fortunately I knew THAT one was a bad so I didn't ever use it to describe myself.

Can you imagine a child calling themselves by a derogatory term because that's all they new? And even better, that's all anyone knew? For me, no other word existed and since everyone used it I assumed that it was the right word.

The message is simple, choose your words, think before you speak. Hell, think before you think. Words can hurt and do irreparable damage. It doesn't matter if its a question of race, class, religion sexuality or gender, everyone has biases... its how you process them that's important. If you recognize it and squash it before it does any damage then you're doing your part. No one can really ask for more.

The response to the crisis in New Orleans spoke volumes, it was a comment on class as well as race. The government has responded that there was a breakdown in communication at one point even saying that New Orleans didn't ask for assistance right away. Um - I think they were a bit busy and didn't realize they needed to make that call.

There have been many devastating events natural and otherwise in America in our recent history.

Devastation, caused by earthquakes, tornadoes, floods, mudslides, fires and much more. These events effected primarily affluent and Caucasian populations and the response time was never at question.

Today, September 11th, marks an incredibly devastating event... The destruction of the twin towers. The images of people walking through the rubble in New York caked in white ash were burned in the hearts and souls of all Americans. There has never been anything that looked more like war and people walking from the city tired, hurt and dirty could have brought to mind similar descriptions as it did for New Orleans, but it didn't.

Victims, evacuees... they somehow those words give more respect to their subject. The most amazing part of all of this is that if the people in New Orleans had actually been refugees, they may have gotten more of a response from our government.

sigh.