Swing'n On A Star and All That Jazz

I am alone now, mostly. Yes, I have been married for nearly 34 years, so I am not alone, mostly. Yes, I am 67 years old and my mother grew me in her womb and birthed me, and she also birthed my brother and sister, so I wasn’t alone , mostly. I had no children, but have adored all of my dogs, mostly. I went to many differently elementary schools, and made friends when I could, mostly. I also went to two different middle schools and high schools, and made friends when I could, mostly. I went to college too, nightly.   Students flocked to me, mostly.     I guess I knew the answers and didn’t pass judgment, mostly. I started working when I was 17 and have had many different jobs, lasting many different lengths of time, and made many different friends, mostly. I guess I’m flawed, or perhaps extremely particular, because I’ve kept no friends, mostly. I think I want friends, mostly.

About a month ago, we found a multi-colored tunnel – the kind small children use to scramble through, or perhaps something used on a small dog agility course, laying in our easement just beyond our backyard fence.   A curious sight, we wondered if it was something the wind carried over the fence from our new backyard neighbors.   We left it there, thinking the neighbors would notice it missing and retrieve it.   The wind continued to move it here and there, but our fence and the neighbors fences contained it to the easement area, in fact, some of the tall, dried grass captured the tunnel and kept it still for a couple of weeks.   Every day, I looked out of the window to see if it was still there, and then it was gone.   I thought that the owners finally discovered it missing and retrieved it.   Unfortunately for the wayward tunnel that wasn’t the case.   Our strong winds finally released it from the tall grass and lifted it to the gulley between the two fences of our backyard neighbo

Ring…ring...... “You’ve reached THE WHITE HOUSE.   We’re sorry, we can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a….you know what, we are NOT sorry, we actually don’t give a rat’s ass about you and your FAKE accusations about the POTUS – he was the boss of The Celebrity Apprentice don’t you know, and a good business man, even though he has filed for bankruptcy several times and claims he is still a billionaire.    Leave a message if you wish, but know that it will fall on deaf ears.   We don’t give a crap about the American people just as long as we get our name in the media."   Beep.

To use the argument that Republican’s are conservative and Democrats are liberal is laughable.  Do some research and you will discover that those claiming to be ‘true republicans,’ and those claiming to be ‘true Democrats,’ for lack of a better description, are full of crap,  have never researched anything about their so called ‘political party,’ follow celebrity, or someone else’s lead, or don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground.  Don’t be so goddamned self-centered that all you can think about is your life and “take the easy way out,” by voting as your family members or celebrities do, or worst of all, not voting ( those note voting have no right to complain and quite frankly are a big part of the problem in our political voting system). Something else to consider as my friend, Diane, a history professor suggested, “A person might be fiscally conservative but socially liberal.   So, now what label do you use?   Are you a Republican?   Democrat?   Independent?   Green P

I was 14 years old when I was assaulted-molested, by a man old enough to be a grandfather.   While the rest of my family shopped, I was ‘holding down the fort’ in the apartment complex we managed.   A tenant, a nice white-haired man who lived alone and had frequent visitors to his apartment, young boys and girls alike, (he had really cool war memorabilia and stories that fascinated us all) walked into the office that day.   Rent wasn’t due, but the office needed to be open just in case someone needed to report a maintenance problem or something like that.   As I recall now, he asked “where is everyone?”   “Shopping, I replied.”   I now remember him asking, “So, you are alone?” After another few minutes of idle chit-chat, he slowly made his way from in front of the desk toward where I sat, behind it.   I didn’t then, but can clearly recall him looking over his shoulder.   The office was quite spacious and had two large windows in front and a screened door.   It was quite warm that d

My aunt Lynda, may she rest in peace, always had a way with words, not necessarily eloquent but more ghetto I suppose.  Even though, to this day I still use some of those 'family phrases.'  One of those phrases was, "weird little stroker."  I use this to describe my dog, Rusty.  Since the day my husband, Frank brought him home from his then foster home, he's has a dog toy in his mouth.  He doesn't play with them or squeak the squeaker inside of them, but brings them to you as some kind of offering, but never relinquishes the toy.  As if he is saying, "see, I slaughtered this thing and therefore am a providing member of the pack."  He brings these gifts to us everywhere, even as we sit on the toilet, peeing.  I suppose he wants us to enjoy his company as well as the toy, and that's a good thing.  Company to pee by. Weird little stroker. Rusty also loves shredding tissues, whenever he gets the chance.  Frank has allergies and uses a lot of tissue