I'd gotten through the day unscathed. Or so I thought.
It was Valentine's Day and I spent much of the day reminding myself that it was just another day. But it wasn't just another day, it was the most dreaded day of the year for most of the "unattached".
I'd climbed into bed that night thinking to myself that I'd made it through the day without a shimmer of negative emotion. But, that wouldn't last as I found myself slipping into the escape of sleep.
I woke up, drenched with sweat. My eyes hurt and I felt that familiar pain in my heart. I glanced at the clock, it was just a little after one in the morning. I stood and looked at the mirror of my vanity. Even in the faint glow of the various electronics, such as the clock and cable box, I could see the swollen and puffy telltale signs of having cried. The lighting and my appearance made me look older than I was. Haggard.
I had been dreaming. The visions, albeit clouded, showed up as a different kind of Valentine's Day.
In my dream, I was shrouded in a floor length cloak that was sewn together with every negative thing I had ever experienced in my past relationships. The knot at the base of my neck was so tight it almost choked me. Try as I might, I could loosen it's hold. A box of Valentine chocolates hovered in front me. They were not held by hands or sitting on a table, they just sat there in midair. I opened the box, expecting to see the variety of chocolates inside. Instead, there was every kind of bug and crawly creature in each of the holes intended for the sweet treats.
In horror I dropped the box. The sound it made hitting the floor woke me from my nightmare.
Why, oh why, couldn't I have passed by this day without event?
I silently moved to the kitchen for a glass of water. My throat was hurting and the cool refreshment soothed the burning pain. While I could be happy for those that spent the day enjoying attention of loved ones, I was still reminded of the pain my heart felt.
I returned to my room, slipping into bed, and hoped that the dreams wouldn't come. At the very least, if they did come, I wished to not remember or be affected by them.
My thoughts were jumbled as I laid there staring at the ceiling. I didn't have to feel this way, I told myself, I was overreacting to just another day.
I fell asleep again, dreading what would fill my head. Waking the next morning, I had my wish. Nothing else, that I remembered, was eventful for the remainder of the night. I was grateful.
I moved through my chores with a numbness. I hoped this feeling would pass if I had enough to keep my hands busy. "Just another day," I echoed in the confines of my brain. Another Monday. Outside it was raining and overcast, a perfect interpretation of my mood.
It would be another year before that day would come around again. Maybe next time I would fare better.
Maybe.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Spellbound
As so many others, I have now been entranced by the movie Twilight.
I was convinced that this was not a movie I was not going to like, for the sole reason that it was a romance. I don't like romance movies, mainly because, in candor, I am jaded. My belief is that it is something make believe, only because I do not know romance. While some may see this as sad, I only see it as what I know. How can one lack, what one does not know. Therefore, it is not something that causes me grief.
It wasn't long into the movie before I found myself hypnotized, mesmerized, and enthralled. I ask myself why, what is it about this movie that is so different than other romance movies?
I don't want to spoil it for others who may not have had the chance to watch the movie or read the books. So, if you haven't done either, I would strongly suggest that you stop reading here.
Although the main male character, Edward, seems aloof in the beginning, we become attracted to solving the mystery behind who he is and why we are so enamored by his appearance. The mystery eventually begins to reveal itself.
He quickly becomes the protector, swooping in to rescue the damsel in distress. Who wouldn't want someone like this in our lives, ready to protect us from harm, fear, or danger? The safety of knowing someone is consistently there for us, emotionally and physically, becomes a craving. He is the safe passage from the evil in the world, even though he sees himself as "a bad guy". Humility at it's finest.
As the plot unfolds, Edward gains Bella's trust. "Do you trust me?" is a question asked more than once, forcing her to think about her decision. Trust is not easily gained, especially when you've been through countless situations where you have invested your trust in deceit, lies, and abandon.
We trust him, just as Bella does, because he has given us no reason to believe otherwise. It is because of his firm reliance on integrity, faithfulness, and the abilities displayed by his character. He is with her always, if not physically, then mentally. He meets her spoken and emotional needs, asking for nothing in return.
And then there is the romance between the characters. I watch curiously at their interactions. Gentle touches, passionate kisses, and intense desire. No one is twisted up in the bed sheets and passing the action off as love. Bella describes her love for Edward as "...unconditional, irrevocable...". While this may appear as a co-dependant behavior of sorts, she has a strong sense of what she wants, having led the life of an outsider. The two share the bond of feeling different than other people and finding a connection with each other.
At one point, Edward says, "I have been waiting for you for such a long time." If any man could learn a lesson about romance, it would be to understand the meaning behind this statement. Holding out for the hope of a soul mate and expressing the honesty of his feelings. Men (and I am generalizing) don't seem to fare very well in the feelings side of a relationship.
Then, threaded through the entire story, is the "Us versus Them". Good vs. Evil, Evil vs. Evil, and Good vs. Good. Evil, seen as what can harm, wrong, betray, and abandon us, begins to change our definition of the word.
The music is beautiful, very new age and I can understand why anyone would want a copy of the soundtrack.
The setting is also beautiful with its lush forests, rustic settings, a grand home,and an art deco ballet studio.
In the end, I still see romance in the same vain, it is after all a movie/book of make believe. But, it doesn't stop me from getting caught up in the story.
Netflix says the release of the next movie in the series has an unknown release date. I know it will be dropped at the number one slot of my Queue when it becomes available, for I am spellbound.
Would I watch it again? I'll probably add the DVD to my small collection of favorite movies.
Five stars? Most definitely.
I was convinced that this was not a movie I was not going to like, for the sole reason that it was a romance. I don't like romance movies, mainly because, in candor, I am jaded. My belief is that it is something make believe, only because I do not know romance. While some may see this as sad, I only see it as what I know. How can one lack, what one does not know. Therefore, it is not something that causes me grief.
It wasn't long into the movie before I found myself hypnotized, mesmerized, and enthralled. I ask myself why, what is it about this movie that is so different than other romance movies?
I don't want to spoil it for others who may not have had the chance to watch the movie or read the books. So, if you haven't done either, I would strongly suggest that you stop reading here.
Although the main male character, Edward, seems aloof in the beginning, we become attracted to solving the mystery behind who he is and why we are so enamored by his appearance. The mystery eventually begins to reveal itself.
He quickly becomes the protector, swooping in to rescue the damsel in distress. Who wouldn't want someone like this in our lives, ready to protect us from harm, fear, or danger? The safety of knowing someone is consistently there for us, emotionally and physically, becomes a craving. He is the safe passage from the evil in the world, even though he sees himself as "a bad guy". Humility at it's finest.
As the plot unfolds, Edward gains Bella's trust. "Do you trust me?" is a question asked more than once, forcing her to think about her decision. Trust is not easily gained, especially when you've been through countless situations where you have invested your trust in deceit, lies, and abandon.
We trust him, just as Bella does, because he has given us no reason to believe otherwise. It is because of his firm reliance on integrity, faithfulness, and the abilities displayed by his character. He is with her always, if not physically, then mentally. He meets her spoken and emotional needs, asking for nothing in return.
And then there is the romance between the characters. I watch curiously at their interactions. Gentle touches, passionate kisses, and intense desire. No one is twisted up in the bed sheets and passing the action off as love. Bella describes her love for Edward as "...unconditional, irrevocable...". While this may appear as a co-dependant behavior of sorts, she has a strong sense of what she wants, having led the life of an outsider. The two share the bond of feeling different than other people and finding a connection with each other.
At one point, Edward says, "I have been waiting for you for such a long time." If any man could learn a lesson about romance, it would be to understand the meaning behind this statement. Holding out for the hope of a soul mate and expressing the honesty of his feelings. Men (and I am generalizing) don't seem to fare very well in the feelings side of a relationship.
Then, threaded through the entire story, is the "Us versus Them". Good vs. Evil, Evil vs. Evil, and Good vs. Good. Evil, seen as what can harm, wrong, betray, and abandon us, begins to change our definition of the word.
The music is beautiful, very new age and I can understand why anyone would want a copy of the soundtrack.
The setting is also beautiful with its lush forests, rustic settings, a grand home,and an art deco ballet studio.
In the end, I still see romance in the same vain, it is after all a movie/book of make believe. But, it doesn't stop me from getting caught up in the story.
Netflix says the release of the next movie in the series has an unknown release date. I know it will be dropped at the number one slot of my Queue when it becomes available, for I am spellbound.
Would I watch it again? I'll probably add the DVD to my small collection of favorite movies.
Five stars? Most definitely.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
My Hero: My Grandmother
Any time I was with a group, whether it be work related or a crafting club, there would be an icebreaker. Icebreakers usually involved different kinds of questions which would allow others to get to know you better and vice versa.
Without fail, the same question would surface: Who is your hero and why?
Many people chose political figures, sports figures, famous stars, singers, actors, and the such. There were those that were influenced by books or teachers that made an impact on their lives.
For me, it was consistently the same answer: My Grandmother.
It was always difficult to find a starting point on the why part because there are so many reasons Grandmom is my hero, so I just started making a list.
For as far back as I can remember, Grandmom never lost her temper. She has the patience of a saint.
When Grandmom hugs you it's genuine and heartfelt. It's not one of those air pats on the back with space between the two of you, it's a real heart to heart hug.
She sang songs to us that no one else in the world seemed to know. Dance with a Dolly with a hole in her stocking was one of them. She would accompany this song with a wooden man hanging from a stick, much like a puppet. And although I do not have a wooden man like that, I sing this song to my grandson while bouncing him on my knee. It occurs to me that the bouncing makes my grandson's legs as spindly as that wooden doll. (When is the last time you heard spindly used in a sentence?) You could never be bored with Grandmom around, it just wasn't possible.
Grandmom's laughter. If I were able to bottle up anything in the world, anything, I would choose my Grandmother's laughter. There is none like it in the entire world. If I was feeling sad, blue, depressed, down in the pit or defeated, I could open up the bottle and hear that laughter, which would cure every defeated feeling I possessed. There is magic in her laughter.
Her kitchen. At family gatherings, there was always hustle and bustle around the kitchen and the seating area. Grandmom would produce the biggest turkey or the biggest ham and begin to carve it. We could walk by and take a little piece. After the meal was done, a few of us would chip in and do the dishes. Doing the dishes, for me, was one of the loving ways to repay Grandmom for her hard work. It wasn't the same as doing the dishes at home, it was more special than that.
One of my favorite kitchen table memories were the times when we had the opportunity to stay for a week without anyone else. She took great interest in everything there was to learn about what was going on in our lives.
She let us bang on the piano to create "music" that she called Bee U Tee Full. In reflection, that piano playing was just noise, but not to my grandmother.
We would always be busy with many activities. She would take us swimming in a hotel pool. We would go to the ocean and walk the beach to find special shells. We also got the chance to taste new foods. I am grateful that I do not have the food hang-ups that others have, they just don't know what they are missing to experience the adventure of trying something new.
About this time, the function leader would cut me off. I took too long and there were others that "needed to be heard".
Big sigh.
They didn't know what they were missing. I had so much more to say.
So to you, Grandmom, you are My Hero. You always will be. If there was a trophy or award to give, you would certainly deserve it, without a doubt.
My hope to be at least half the grandmother you are to me.
I love you.
Without fail, the same question would surface: Who is your hero and why?
Many people chose political figures, sports figures, famous stars, singers, actors, and the such. There were those that were influenced by books or teachers that made an impact on their lives.
For me, it was consistently the same answer: My Grandmother.
It was always difficult to find a starting point on the why part because there are so many reasons Grandmom is my hero, so I just started making a list.
For as far back as I can remember, Grandmom never lost her temper. She has the patience of a saint.
When Grandmom hugs you it's genuine and heartfelt. It's not one of those air pats on the back with space between the two of you, it's a real heart to heart hug.
She sang songs to us that no one else in the world seemed to know. Dance with a Dolly with a hole in her stocking was one of them. She would accompany this song with a wooden man hanging from a stick, much like a puppet. And although I do not have a wooden man like that, I sing this song to my grandson while bouncing him on my knee. It occurs to me that the bouncing makes my grandson's legs as spindly as that wooden doll. (When is the last time you heard spindly used in a sentence?) You could never be bored with Grandmom around, it just wasn't possible.
Grandmom's laughter. If I were able to bottle up anything in the world, anything, I would choose my Grandmother's laughter. There is none like it in the entire world. If I was feeling sad, blue, depressed, down in the pit or defeated, I could open up the bottle and hear that laughter, which would cure every defeated feeling I possessed. There is magic in her laughter.
Her kitchen. At family gatherings, there was always hustle and bustle around the kitchen and the seating area. Grandmom would produce the biggest turkey or the biggest ham and begin to carve it. We could walk by and take a little piece. After the meal was done, a few of us would chip in and do the dishes. Doing the dishes, for me, was one of the loving ways to repay Grandmom for her hard work. It wasn't the same as doing the dishes at home, it was more special than that.
One of my favorite kitchen table memories were the times when we had the opportunity to stay for a week without anyone else. She took great interest in everything there was to learn about what was going on in our lives.
She let us bang on the piano to create "music" that she called Bee U Tee Full. In reflection, that piano playing was just noise, but not to my grandmother.
We would always be busy with many activities. She would take us swimming in a hotel pool. We would go to the ocean and walk the beach to find special shells. We also got the chance to taste new foods. I am grateful that I do not have the food hang-ups that others have, they just don't know what they are missing to experience the adventure of trying something new.
About this time, the function leader would cut me off. I took too long and there were others that "needed to be heard".
Big sigh.
They didn't know what they were missing. I had so much more to say.
So to you, Grandmom, you are My Hero. You always will be. If there was a trophy or award to give, you would certainly deserve it, without a doubt.
My hope to be at least half the grandmother you are to me.
I love you.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Birds and Bees.. and Coffee
Some years ago, on a February day, Reuters News released an article about a 107-year-old Hong Kong villager who has attributed his longevity in part to decades of sexual abstinence.
Decades!
And while I am well on my way to following in his footsteps, I found it extremely interesting that sex is the first thing that comes to this man's mind when questioned about the success regarding his long life. According to the story the man lived a sexless life for many years after losing his bride at age 30 when she perished during the Japanese invasion in World War Two.
The article goes on to mention that the man was a former chef and stated that a low-fat diet and regular dawn exercises helped him to fight off the ravages of old age. Would this not be a better response to the success of his longevity?
So here's this guy, looking good, feeling great and living long. Without sex.
Why didn't he find another partner? Or remarry?
What is it about sex that would deteriorate a person to the conclusion of an early check-out time from life?
More importantly, why would you WANT to live that long without it?
Perhaps I'm too young to understand. At 99 years of age I still have much to learn.
Then there's this little report: Coffee -- better than sex?
For many coffee drinkers, the brew beats the bedroom, according to Cox News Service (I know and I'm not even going there!), which reports that 42 percent of those in a recent survey with more than 1,200 respondents said coffee is more or equally important in any given week as sex.
So, where is this coffee and how can I get some? Or seriously, do these people need coffee interventions?
Okay, it's plain to see that this blog is going nowhere good and fast. So I'll go... exercise.
Decades!
And while I am well on my way to following in his footsteps, I found it extremely interesting that sex is the first thing that comes to this man's mind when questioned about the success regarding his long life. According to the story the man lived a sexless life for many years after losing his bride at age 30 when she perished during the Japanese invasion in World War Two.
The article goes on to mention that the man was a former chef and stated that a low-fat diet and regular dawn exercises helped him to fight off the ravages of old age. Would this not be a better response to the success of his longevity?
So here's this guy, looking good, feeling great and living long. Without sex.
Why didn't he find another partner? Or remarry?
What is it about sex that would deteriorate a person to the conclusion of an early check-out time from life?
More importantly, why would you WANT to live that long without it?
Perhaps I'm too young to understand. At 99 years of age I still have much to learn.
Then there's this little report: Coffee -- better than sex?
For many coffee drinkers, the brew beats the bedroom, according to Cox News Service (I know and I'm not even going there!), which reports that 42 percent of those in a recent survey with more than 1,200 respondents said coffee is more or equally important in any given week as sex.
So, where is this coffee and how can I get some? Or seriously, do these people need coffee interventions?
Okay, it's plain to see that this blog is going nowhere good and fast. So I'll go... exercise.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Without Reason
Some days you want to cry
Some days you want to laugh
Some days you get it all
Some days it's less than half
Today is the day to cry
As for the reason, I do not know why
Today I'm feeling sad and blue
Perhaps it's the season, I haven't a clue
I've been shocked, perplexed, and amazed
So many emotions in so many days
But as for today, it's time to cry
No matter how I try, I cannot say why
So forgive me for the emotions I do not understand
Share some comfort, but make no demands
For today I am watering my soul
In hopes that tomorrow I'm back in control
Some days you want to laugh
Some days you get it all
Some days it's less than half
Today is the day to cry
As for the reason, I do not know why
Today I'm feeling sad and blue
Perhaps it's the season, I haven't a clue
I've been shocked, perplexed, and amazed
So many emotions in so many days
But as for today, it's time to cry
No matter how I try, I cannot say why
So forgive me for the emotions I do not understand
Share some comfort, but make no demands
For today I am watering my soul
In hopes that tomorrow I'm back in control
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