Monday, August 28, 2006
In the dry desert of our penances, we seek the cooling waters of your forgiveness O Lord. Bring us to that place where exists no guilt, no fear, that we may live more freely and be kinder to ourselves.
I ask that you school my heart in the further ways of mercy; rekindle the flame of joy that once burned constant in my soul from the day it was set alight by Thee. It is the flame of my faith.
Bring beauty and love to all men, so in looking upon my neighbor I will see the reflection of Thy handiwork, and be so humbled in such a presence that I cannot but offer my care and concern.
Lastly I ask that you n'er pursuade my heart to follow any direction but that which finds me warming at Thy Hand upon mine.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
There are things we remember with joy, or indifference, or just mediocre feelings. Then there are memories which float to the clarity of our minds like a dead body floats to the surface of a lake.
In the early 1980's I was well-placed in a paralegal job working for a Superior Court Judge, driving a new Honda and sharing a roomy house with 2 friends. My life was full, I had dates every weekend and many laughing days of just pure, free happiness. My bank account was nicely fattened and I wanted for nothing I could name. What happened next baffled everyone in my life - except the therapist I eventually was forced to see.
Without detail, I'll just say that slowly I started abandoning these trappings of the material world, until I was without a home, job, car, and no idea where I belonged in the world. Something went horribly wrong in my mind, and I was helpless to help myself. Here in this Journal I've written about the clinical depression I experienced during this time. My Mother,who I loved so much but who was never meant to be one and who we were never allowed to touch in any way, didn't seem to notice. My Father however, loved me whole-heartedly and searched for me everywhere. When he found me sitting in a park in rags, thin and dazed, he took me home and found a psychotherapist to come in and try to put me back together again. He diagnosed me as having deep clinical depression. I didn't recognize what was mine and what wasn't, who I was related to, who's house it was I slept in though I grew up there, I could only respond to my Father's worried face. My brain seemed to have rewired itself for some unknown reason, and this is the story of what my doctor found once he arrived at the heart of the mystery.
As a 6-year old growing up in perfect suburbia, we had a huge back yard and our neighbor had a double-stalled stable where they kept "Lady", a beautiful, fit, chesnut Kentucky Walker, one of the most prized horses one could own. Her racing days over, she lazed away in her corral aimlessly, and like all little girls I fell completely in love. I wanted to brush her, feed her, care for her, and was allowed to. I even eventually rode her all over the neighborhood. Like a dream it was ....
Two men named "Red" (the leader) and Bill (the lapdog yes-man) worked full-time at the stable. We all got along fine and I didn't bother them the way kids usually do. They seemed somehow not from my town, and it turned out they were parolees from Trenton State Prison, convicted child molesters, who were obliged to work so as not to violate their parole. No one knew about this, it was the 1950's and things like registering pedofiles was in the future, even the word itself was never used. Doors were left unlocked day and night, children were allowed to play anywhere and for as long as they wanted. Incredibly, back then there was no restriction for convicted pedophiles about working around children. Everyone knew I was in their company almost every day. They just seemed like grown-ups to me. Odd, yes, but nothing to do with my 6-year old perfect world.
The day I found myself in their car, sitting in the front seat between them, I thought we were going for ice-cream. If this had happened today I would've most likely been thrown in the back, on the floor and under a blanket. But again, it was a different time, with an easy, safe attitude about people. So off we went, and I was happy. The car smelled like hay, and something else - beer I later found out. This is as far as memory always took me, I could never get past this point until I had my 1980's breakdown and the therapist worked his magic. He taped our hyno-sessions, which I later watched with him in horror. But I finally knew the truth and been able to live more fully ever since.
When the car pulled into a tree-shrouded driveway with a small house, a lump rose from my stomach to my throat; I've no idea what it was but on the tape when I get to this point it's obvious my child's mind sensed something wrong. Once through the front door, their voices - which had been soft and friendly - turned harsh and dictatorial. Red shouted for me to sit still and if I said a word my parents would be taken to jail. I started to cry, I was 6 and it was summer and I wanted to play with the horsie. Why were they mad at me, why were they shouting? Of course I came to understand years later that a pedofile is more afraid of their victim than the victim could ever be. I wasn't afraid, I just wanted to go home. I didn't know what was coming.
They went into another room, the kitchen I think, and talked low, punctuating their talk with shouts to me to stop that crying you brat or we'll get your parents you'll never see them again and it'll be your fault, you stupid brat. I tried, truly, I tried to sniffle-up my tears. Then they came out and walked purposefully toward me; Red scooped me up around the waist in one clean swift motion, I was now going down a flight of wooden stairs which smelled like mildew and oil cloth. It was a basement with cement walls, and blue words painted on it but I can't remember what they were, not even on the tape under hypnotherapy. Then I was thrown into a small "off room" like a storage place, it had boxes, newspapers, canned foods and alot of wiring, and work-tools. My hands were tied in front of me with what I thought was a dirty gray stocking. All through this, Red continually yelled for me to do exactly what he said "you better remember!" with Bill echoing "Yeah, do what we say!" but his voice never sounded menacing like Red's, and I had no choice anyway but it seemed, as my therapist explained, that they were a little afraid of what was happening. They acted nervous.
Fast forward: I was too small to rape. It's that simple. It took only one session for that to surface. They each touched me, fondled, sought out a little girl's private places that even she doesn't know about. But I was too small.
Although I cried inside, on my face was nothing at all, no affect, no expression, I didn't object, I didn't fight, I don't think I was actually "there" but it was happening to me just the same. They came and went, all through the hours into the night though I didn't know it was late. They kept me in the dark half-clothed when they left the basement, and pulled this string on the end of a bare bulb when they returned. I always smelled beer on them - and here's a strange connection that stayed with me. During the late 1970s and into the 1980s I drank beer - and hated it. Everyone used to laugh when the gang would go out to the club and dance, having our beers at the table, watching me drink it down and wince, but keep drinking it anyway lol I never understood why I drank it when the very smell made me ill. Now I know. Now I connected it up.
Some hours later, perhaps it was early in the next morning, Bill came down with a sandwich and glass of water. It was my first food since the previous afternoon and I was more hungry than I knew. I had already wet myself and the floor which happened when they first pulled my pants down. My hands hurt and I was grateful Bill undid the stocking-looking thing. It turned out to be a man's long tennis sock. So I ate greedily and asked to go home now. Bill just looked at me oddly, like I was an idiot-child, and left. He only talked when Red did, and usually just echoed him. I was alone again, and lonely. Somehow, I wasn't scared yet, I was homesick and bored, worried about my parents, but not afraid. I didn't realize I had been hurt.
When Red came down and yelled that someone was going to be upstairs all day and had special super-powers to hear anything I said or did, I believed him completely. I promised to be good and not cry, besides he said we'd have that ice- cream soon. I was still hungry and asked for a bowl of Cheerios. He laughed loudly and mussed my hair! I just couldn't believe what I heard on that tape, because that one action was so clear in my memory after it surfaced - yes, he laughed and mussed my hair like I was his own child! He seemed happy so I smiled and laughed too, thinking of course that I'd have my Cheerios soon. He left.
All day I was in and out of a strange sleep, but I had the very clear picture of someone else close by. My therapist explained that obviously the men had to go to their job that day and act like nothing had happened, but I may've been hearing mice in the walls or just having aural hallucinationscaused by separation anxiety. When I was finally rescued, the truth was no one but myself was in that house the whole day.
I was awake and tired when they returned. They seemed different, more anxious and alert. Their clothes were different but still smelly. They talked upstairs for a bit then came down to my storage room and molested me again. I left my body and took a ride on "Lady" all through the clouds in the bright blue sky, talking to angels. I don't remember when they stopped, when they started, but I knew they were too close to me, and doing bad things I'd never had done. I must've done something very wrong for this to be happening, that was my mind-set at the time.
It would help to know what was happening in the real world since the previous afternoon. When I didn't answer the "dinner bell" my Mother used to ring each night to gather us from all corners of the neighborhood, she thought nothing of it; I was a very independent kid and loved playing, even alone. My Father wanted to go out and look for me, mad that I wasn't there, then he seemed anxious, then very very worried. This family dynamic is what was elicited from my parents by the police, as well as the Doctor, in later statements for the record. I know how my Father was, he had no trouble telling people he differed from his wife, that she was cold and unfeeling, and not the least bit maternal, which was true. Poor Mom, she just didn't know how to love a child, no less a husband. So when 8 p.m. rolled around and still no Cathy, my Father said "Enough" and drove around the neighborhood, looking for my familiar long blonde hair and little-girl plaid shirt with my favorite cowboy hat. My Mother was ordered to make some calls, which she did. Nothing. Then they went together to the police and reported me missing. All through that first night, it seems my older sister, younger one, and the toddler were untouched by any of this. Though the family grew to 8 children eventually, in 1956 we were young with parents who were in no way a "team" in raising us. But that's another entry. My Father adored me, naming me after his sainted Italian Mother, and my own Mother was not capable of feeling a true maternal love for any of us. It wasn't her fault, she was an abused child herself who had a cold, unfeeling mother and the cycle was broken only when I had my own daughter, raising her with love and care as she does now with her own children. To continue:
While I'm in this storage room, so hungry and wet, still trying to understand what I did wrong, I was continually yelled at after each "fondling session", that my parents were not looking for me because the neighbors told them I ran away, not wanting to be with my parents anymore. This made me so sad I kept crying and the more I did, the worse it got. I kept wondering what my replacement would be like, my parents' new little girl.
They had obviously been to the stables that day, keeping up normal appearances, but noticing the commotion at my house. This was why they came back so anxious and fearful, and probably the reason they repeatedly molested me. They knew they would have to dispose of me soon, very soon, or the trail would lead their way. As it turns out, they had been almost the first questioned by police, then let go. They had rights, after all, and no one had any proof I hadn't been kidnapped by a stranger, maybe from out-of-State. But they were nervous and antsy.
So now this second day, in the afternoon and into the early evening while this is happening and I'm being told no one is looking for me, after being given another baloney sandwich and water, I asked for ice-cream. I asked if my hands could be loose so I could itch my scratches which my arms had from the wooden bannister in being carried down those steps. And I asked nicely, having learned that crying got me nowhere. The answer I got was one that stood out so clearly when the memory was returned to me: "You're nobody's little girl anymore, because no one loves you - your parents are looking for a new little girl already." Somehow that hurt me more than the confusion of abduction, kidnap, molestation, mild mind control, starvation, dehydration, all of it. The idea that I was being replaced with "a better little girl" cut through my heart in such unreasonable sorrow - how could I know any differently? I didn't know where grow-ups got their children and it seemed perfectly plausible that they could go to the special store and pick out another one. I belonged to no one now, all I had were these two men who smelled bad and touched me strangely and didn't feed me and let me wet myself.
The City and State police in the meantime, in conjunction with the surrounding Town police, were all searching for me. There had been talk of involving the Feds because a supposition of out-of-State kidnap had been put forth. All through that second day it was big news in our town that a child had gone missing, and everyone wanted to be involved. Oddly enough, not a single parent ever looked at their own children differently and told them the ways of the world. "Stranger danger" didn't finally come into being for many years, and I was but one of so many children who went missing, sadly enough never to be seen again. I had a very special Guardian Angel though, and didn't know it.
I was alone and lying on my side when I heard it. Like a constant banging of something heavy on a wall. Scuffling upstairs. A loud cry of "Police!" Now alot of scuffling, I sensed alot of feet upstairs, all going in different directions. From the tape I heard myself recall "Where is she? Where's Cathy? TALK!" Red was yelling to leave him alone, why pick on him, and something about an attic. I think Bill was actually crying. It turns out in reality that it was Bill who cracked but by then I heard the door creak open and many heavy footfalls on the wooden steps. "I see her! There she is!" things like that, more uniforms surrounding me then picking me up. The sock was untied. A dark green wool blanket was thrown around me, I remember the feel of it, very rough. I was being carried upstairs into the light, felt very dizzy and nauseous, and heard questions directed my way but couldn't speak. I just let myself be carried away.
I never saw a kitchen, just the front room and door, and out we went, all of us. Men in uniforms and others in suits were walking in one huge mass toward the blinking lights - the police cars it seems. When I was placed gently into the back seat of a police car, the officer who had carried me out got in beside me and looked at me, smiling, repeating how I must be a very brave girl to (something) I think "endure" I never could remember everything that officer said. The psychotherapist came to the rescue, explaining that being "taken" again like I didn't belong to someone had been as confusing as the actual kidnap. I know he sat forward to say something to the policeman driving, it turned out to be "hospital" and from there it's all pretty uneventful. I was examined, washed, and put in a clean bed, where I prompty fell asleep - they'd given me a pill. When I awoke, my parents were sitting by either side of the bed, my two aunts were there, some others. Daddy just wrapped me in his arms and wept. I fell back to sleep that way.
I was kept overnight and released the next morning to a circle of reporters and cameras outside the hospital door. It was a small place, not like today, but big news. A handkerchief was put over my face by a well-thinking nurse, pushing the wheelchair. On the way home however ..... is it enough to say I had a huge knot in my stomach made of intense fear? I was convinced I did something horribly wrong to cause all this commotion and I'd be in big trouble for a long time, what could I do or say? But my Father kept up a cheerful patter of "We're going to put all this behind us" and my Mother as usual sat silent as the Sphinx.
Things actually did get "back to normal" and the whole mess was soon a distant memory. However it may've affected the directions I eventually took as a teenager, I'll never really know. Marrying early but continuing my college education, having a career, children, friends, a comfortable life, yet for some not quite clear reason, in the 1980's my mind became flooded like a tsumani with absolutely no memory at all, I couldn't place myself in the world, I didn't know for certain who I was or what belonged to me, I had a complete shut-down, break-down, I was clinically depressed, I "ceased to function". Only after many hyno-sessions and psychotherapeutic hours with this incredibly wise Doctor, did the reason become clear - I had never properly dealt with my kidnapping and each time I'd read or hear a story of a child gone missing, something I wasn't aware of was inching closer and closer to the front of my brain until it took over completely. The more plain truth is, I never grieved for myself, for the little girl I once was.
I eventally learned the names of these men, even their relatives' whereabouts. I was kept out of their trial because of my age, and with Bill's confession it was done. These men are dead now yet they left me with something that can never die. But because of the unwavering goodness and divine love of Our Lord, I've been spared any lasting scars, since I've never dwelt on any of this before. To me, all my life it's simply been back there somewhere and though I remember it, I chose not to. God allowed my life to continue for reasons no human can know and that's more than fine with me. I'm happy with the person I've become, mistakes and all, and as I say in my short poem "Time and Space": How can I but answer, whereupon I am asked, that I am just the sum total of all that has yet to be, and all that has passed.
It has passed.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Okay, another Tag from Kathy, that onestrangecat:
Who was your first real kiss with? John, because he had a Harley.
Last person you kissed? Eric, then David.
Most embarrassing moment? 21 yrs stupid, bought a "personal massager" and had it in my purse when I came home, tossing it on the couch. My younger brother was visiting with his friends, and he picked up my purse, and OUT FLIES THAT THING! They all kept asking what in the world it was, I got flustered and blustered and ran away fast, laughing like a loon.
Proudest moment? My mother never told me many things I always needed answers to, all my adult life. While she was ill, knowing she was very bad off but not knowing she would die soon, I didn't ask her a thing and though I'll never know the truth I needed, she died in peace.
Worst moment? Kidnapped at 6.
If you found $100 on the street what would you spend it on? First, a few dollars here and there to those I know will ask anyway. Then I'd visit a masseuse - I've never had this experience - and I'd buy those darn Christmas presents in advance - take the pressure off.
M&M's -- plain or peanut? Plain.
How many different places have you lived in since moving out of your parents house? Certainly at least 12.
Would you ever consider moving back in with the parents? They're both gone now but if they were here, I would rather live in a cave. They were completely mis-matched and "home" was rough, even with all the good times, nothing outweighed the trauma of that house.
Here, have a go. Send me your link so I can read your answers!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Over at Barbara's (Mastersblynn) she has a "20 Questions" thing which looks very interesting. I'm just answering the first question now, maybe finish tomorrow.
1. A month before it happens,you're told you're going to lose your memory so how do you prepare for it and do you attempt to regain what you've lost? I'd use my brain. Literally. Knowing the powerful connection between memory and our senses, I'd ask my family to videotape me doing all the things I enjoy. Eating my favorite foods, sniffing flowers I like, playing my piano, and I'd make sure they videotaped themselves, talking and interacting with me on that tape. I'd involve all my senses so that when my memory failed, I would view this tape to know which foods to taste - that would help revive a memory, and what flowers to sniff - again, helping strengthen my memory; and I'd listen to the voices on the tape, putting them with the faces and making connections, so that when I saw those people (who are actually my family) I would remember that tape and the sounds of their voices. The power of the brain, this incredible muscle, this organ like no other with the ability to actually contemplate itself (that astonishes me all the time), I'd use it all I could because it's a medical fact that memory improves with use, just as the brain does. I'd make those neural synapses till I dropped from exhaustion, and this is how I'd regain my memory, bit by bit. Everything I've ever seen and done is imprinted on my brain and in my memory. Should I ever lose it, I could get it back the same way.
She was Irish. And though her father was Italian, she'd always say, "Ah yes well, that's the bit of me little finger there, ya see it? The rest of me, sure she's Irish through and through don't ya know!" With her imitation brogue, my Mom would regale us in laughing wide-eyed wonder as she imitated the Gaelic charms of the land her forebears left to start anew in "Amerikee" as they'd pronounce it.
We had a ritual, she and I, where she'd practice her opera singing and I'd play piano for her, helping her read the special language of music, her "private rehearsal pianist" as she liked to brag of me, and eventually for the entire opera chorus. Pretty heady stuff for an old paralegal like me, and I've never stopped thanking the Good God who blessed me with this gift, the ability to sight-read music and play by ear.
I wrote my Mother a song after she died on her birthday last year, and though you cannot hear the music, these are the words. I remember her as she once was, in that picture, her every feature more perfect than the next:
Come and linger one more moment,
stay and sing just one more song -
clear as crystal, high and ringing,
dare I ever sing along?
Best for me to stay and play
the music to each special tune -
Golden Days of Endless Promise,
everything that's gone too soon.
Now you sing in dreams -
haunting me it seems ...
heaven waits with angel's feather,
wait! please stay with me forever.
'Never leave your song unwritten'
these are words you spoke to me -
such a one as you, dear Mother,
everything I long to see.
Monday, August 21, 2006
|You Are 30% Left Brained, 70% Right Brained|
The left side of your brain controls verbal ability, attention to detail, and reasoning.|
Left brained people are good at communication and persuading others.
If you're left brained, you are likely good at math and logic.
Your left brain prefers dogs, reading, and quiet.
The right side of your brain is all about creativity and flexibility.
Daring and intuitive, right brained people see the world in their unique way.
If you're right brained, you likely have a talent for creative writing and art.
Your right brain prefers day dreaming, philosophy, and sports.
Interesting....so I'm a whopping 70% Right-brained. Funny, my Mom always said I was "bird-brained" but what the hey. Try this test, it's kewl. And accurate from what I remember about our brains, although I have a love affair with BOOKS but it is true, left-brained people love reading so I suppose I'm an exception that proves the rule. Hey, imagine: When we think about our brains, the organ is actually considering itself. The brain is literally contacting itself and considering what it does! FAScinating!!
Well, this assignment's rather easy for me - I remember exactly how I got here, it was my dear friend Deborah (SassyDee50) who always sent me her latest photos and poetry. One day about 4 months ago I clicked in to read some and noticed other people were commenting. I thought, Oh hey I can keep a little "diary" like Deb - Hmm why not? No one will ever see it I can spill my thoughts and feel all the better for it! lol no one would see?!? I must've been VERY tired that night. Anyway my first attempt was a mess and I can't seem to get rid of it - April, one entry, incomplete - I can't delete it though I've tried everything. WHAT in the world did I DO when I first started this Journal? It wasn't how I wanted to start, but as I got going I realized omgoodness people are SEEING this! Mustn't be silly, mustn't be rude...but I'm a very sensitive, open person with so much minutia in my brain it was a frighteningly special pleasure to type it all down. Never did I think it would CONTINUE to be interesting to anyone, nor would I expect people to just drop in - but deep inside I felt a very human hope that they would, that people would like me just based on my words, my thoughts and most especially my poetry, and it seems they did. They DO! I've met so many incredibly friendly, honest, open, caring people here that I've no intention of leaving - even though I don't post daily, I may have to train myself in that direction! This is a wonderful haven where, no matter who one is or what they deal with in life, there's always the presumption of friendship even before they know your name, and that is something I can live with for a very long, long time.
Thank you JLanders, for caring enough to listen. :-)
The Question raised: List seven things you would like to see happen in your life, in the next three years? Let's ponder:
l. Add a Codicil to my Will.
2. Help my brothers sell our house so they can pay their debts.
3. Hand a $50 bill to someone on the street and say I saw it fall from their pocket, walk away (ouch! but, yea)
4. Travel, perhaps a cruise to Italian shores.....
5. See George Bush resign. Now.
6. Get more serious about living healthier.
7. Meet as many JLanders as I can!
What a wonderful, fantastic time I had last night at the chat! Everyone was exceptionally friendly and open, I'm so glad I participated. I don't usually go in for chats and such but this was just amazing, and the shopping lmao I can't believe how much FUN I had! I have to personally thank Andi for her liveliness, and Viv for her warmth and friendship, and of course our British mates Stevie and Guido for hosting, and just being there with their unique brands of humor! I absolutely loved it. Also, I know there's still things going on (see Sugar's site) but I'm especialy grateful for Stevie's video, a real keeper, and the quilt which brought happy tears seeing my Mom's name, thank you one and all!! I made a little comment to Guido that a nice monthly chat for Journalers would be very welcome and certainly attended, don't you think? I hear this was tried before to success, so why not again? If you take a Northern Trip to Pharmalo's leave a comment about how you feel, etc., all the details are there. Well, thank you again, I'm very glad I'm here, and I hope you give me time to get my "seriousness" back lol!!
A still-dark morn, I awaken to an early dawn
for the sun to watch it rise -
I turn to see your sleeping form
as I always do when gazing at you,
that all I truly need to see
is adrift in the ocean of your loving eyes.
Without you, I have but
unfinished joys and the incompleted noise
of our laughter and delight,
or the sorrows when we fight.
But always, I remain at your pleasure
my dearest treasure,
these are days I share with you
a soft surprising kiss -
Like one sunrise into another,
I will follow you
and no other.
Come my love, awake and watch with me.
NOTE: Proud to say this way just chosen for publication by poetry.com in their latest edition "Immortal Verses". May seem paltry to some, feels good to me!
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Okay, long-ago that it was, I must've been a good hippie cause I overslept and missed my ride to Woodstock.
The man may have you down, but you are not out, man. You put up the good fight, and stink to high heaven. Put down the blotter, and take a bath, man.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Okay, here's my whole ensemble, no gold cuff bracelet yet, but see what you think of the antique-y looking heels and the long earrings, so I won't need a necklace, and the clip for my french twist in my hair. So far, I'm chosing the dress on the left. Take a look, see how bad my taste is lol! Just that blue-jean baby queen.....
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Hmm...seems the world can rest, I have 0% chance of losing my mind. That's an eye-opener!
Your results for this quiz have been calculated and are presented below:
You have a 0% chance of going postal!
Congrats! You're not going to shoot up a strip mall anytime soon. You're so well-adjusted, it's creepy.
Featured Quiz: How Likely Are You to Go Postal?
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Not sure how this quiz started, but I'll give it a go:
l. IF YOU HAD $10 AND NEED TO BUY SNACKS AT A GAS STATION, WHAT WOULD YOU GET? Absolutely nothing, unless they have sunflower seeds, soy milk, like that.
2. IF YOU WERE REINCARNATED AS SOME SORT OF SEA-DWELLING CREATURE, WHAT WOULD YOU BE? If it were a lake, I'd be a salmon (short, exciting life) but of the sea I'd be a tropical tiger fish (short, exciting life - and I'd look good living it).
3. WHO'S YOUR FAVORITE REDHEAD? Ava Gardner
4. WHAT DO YOU ORDER WHEN YOU'RE AT AN IHOP? Went in once 20 years ago, had a mountain of pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream, and never returned.
5. LAST BOOK YOU READ? "The Mayan Prophecies" by Gilber & Cotterell, and "Our Lady of the Lost and Found" by Schoemperlen. I really need to keep two going at once.
6. (There IS no #6) lol
7. DESCRIBE YOUR FAVORITE PAIR OF UNDERWEAR. Bottom? Lavendar and pink satin mid-line bikinis with lacey little red rose on the waistband. Top? Matches.
8. DESCRIBE THE LAST TIME YOU WERE INJURED. While fighting for life in a hospital, a nurse went to insert a second dialysis shunt into my sub-clavial artery and managed nicely to puncture the upper quadrant of my left lung. Since I didn't know WHY I couldn't seem to speak, no one paid much attention and started to reinsert the shunt. That's about when an assistant listened to my lungs and rang out, "She's drowning!" Slammed home the chest tube into my side. Lovely swoosh sound...
9. (Once again, # MIA) lol
10. ROCK CONCERT OR SYMPHONY? Either, depending on the artist, but lean toward symphony.
11. IF SOMEONE WERE TO BUY YOU A GIFT, WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE IT TO BE? Telescope.
12. SODA? Useless, toxic can of sugar.
13. FAVORITE FLAVOR OF PUDDING? Tapioca.
14. WHAT TYPE OF SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? The type you can't see, I'm wearing my baroque silky nightgown.
15. (LOL Another number gone missing - who started this thing anyway lmao????)
16. IF YOU COULD USE ONE FORM OF TRANSPORTATION FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, WHAT WOULD IT BE? My legs, I can hopefully always depend upon them more than any machine of future making. Besides, I like walking, when I run out of gas I just sit down for a minute.
17. WHAT IS YOUR DEADLY SIN? Pride. O wow, look at that, I guessed right! I figured PRIDE is my downfall, and after the test, well...besides being gluttonous and wrathful, I'm full of pride! Yeah!!! lmao this was nuts.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Wednesday, August 9, 2006
For those who already get their Skywatcher Alerts, skip this. Others with interest in what happens over our heads may love watching the annual Perseis Meteor Shower of August. Although available for viewing to those all over the planet, the shower will reach it's peak for North America late Friday and Saturday nights, August 11-12-13. However, the prescence of moonlight and artificial light may interfere. Still, the brightest meteors can be seen easily with the naked eye. The best time to go outside and find a nice comfy spot to lay down and watch is when it picks up after midnight, though "shooting stars" as we used to call them, will be visible before then. You need only adapt your eyes to the darkness before they really get going. The brightest may sail across the heavens for several seconds and leave a brief train of glowing smoke. If you trace the direction of that trail backwards, you'll see the "radiant" or what looks like the origin, of the Perseids, which is a spot in the constellation Perseus, who was son-in-law of Cassiopeia in Greek mythology. They are located near each other. I adore Greek mythology, don't you? Again, you need only your eyes for this, use a scope of course if you have one, and be amazed once again.
Anyone who wants these alerts from Sky & Telecope Magazine just click this link and halfway down the page you'll see "Talk about it" where you can just click "Alert Me..." Sky & Telescope- Watch for the Perseid Meteors Aug. 11-13 - AOL Research & Learn
Have you one dear friend, who can soothe your every pain?
A friend who goes beyond a lover standing in the rain;
In ways so unexpected, I found a friend like this,
and o'er the years she's been there like an angel's silent kiss.
She turns over the earth! How she causes it to sing!
She understand the seasons and the changes that they bring;
Is there a gift as great as bringing one small seed to bloom?
be it in the grandest garden, or the window of a room.
To me she is The Gardener, traveling far and wide
reaching those who call for her, she rushes to their side;
N'er could I imagine my life without her in it -
if they gave awards for having heart, my Gardener, she would win it.
Tuesday, August 8, 2006
Monday, August 7, 2006
"I can't hold you and I can't leave you,
and sorting the reasons to leave you or hold you,
I find an intangible one to love you,
and many tangible ones to forego you.
As you won't change, nor let me forego you,
I shall give my heart a defense against you -
so that half shall always be armed to abhor you
whilst the other be ready to adore you.
Then, if our love, by loving flourish,
let it not in endless fueding perish;
let us speak no more in jealousy and suspicion.
He offers not part, who would all receive -
so know that when it is your intention,
mine shall be to make believe."
Sr. Juana Ines de la Cruz c. 1670
Friday, August 4, 2006
Just a quick blurb to let every caring, compassionate person who wanted details about little Polly left abandonded, I couldn't find anything in my local paper. The other night, a couple only in their early 60's died in the night during the 112 degree heat here in Newark, hottest in the country, when they went into heat exhaustion then stroke. The power was down in many parts of Jersey yesterday, there's always a surge in demand when people come home from work. So the Sheriff's Office was starled to note all the windows were closed and basically this couple were mummified. Their neighbors said they were paranoid of everyone, always thought young people were out to hurt them, which wasn't true it was a fine neighborhood. But can you imagine what it must've been like for them, no power, no air, they just fell into heat exhaustion and it's a fine line from there to heat stroke. The "cooling centers" all over the city are packed. All these things happening because of our weather, all over the world, can anyone remember a time this happened? I can't, we used to be able to depend on the seasons growing up. And if children were being left alone in cars, or houses, or if pets were being ignored or thrown out, we never knew it. Were we just not paying attention? I just don't know.
Frankly, I think the worldwide weather patterns changing so drastically like this is only the beginning. The earth does go through normal fluctuations but not as quick as this one. Now it's finally breaking with some thunderstorms in my area, but people are sick and some are dead.
Think I'll have a meditative conversation with the Good Lord, just to relieve my heart of this pain. God is the answer and love is the key. I don't know why I should worry ..... but I do.
Wednesday, August 2, 2006
Over the years I've managed to collect a geat deal of minutia and factoids I thought you might find interesting. See if any of these answers a question or two:
WHAT CAUSES ICE CREAM HEADACHE? Actually, there's a nerve center at the roof and back of the mouth called the sphenopalatine ganglion, and when you eat something icy cold it constricts the blood vessels, causing your pain receptors to overload, sending the excess pain straight to your head.
DOES EATING CHOCOLATE CAUSE ACNE? No.
WHY ARE YOU HUNGRY AN HOUR AFTER EATING CHINESE FOOD? The carbs are the culprits. All that rice, noodles, they cause the blood sugar level to peak then plummet, making you hungry.
CAN CARROTS HELP IMPROVE YOUR VISION? The Roman Emperor Caligula, a heck of a guy, believed carrots were the ultimate aphrodisiac and forced his court to eat a ton at banquets. Just a little factoid there. Actually, this started during WW11 when British pilots started shooting down German planes like crazy. They bragged it was because of all the carrots they ate (remember "Victory Gardens"? Everyone had one and carrots were a main crop). The fact is they were right. Beta-carotene is essential for sight. The body converts it into vitamin A which is a nice friendly vitamin for all kinds of things. But as with everything, there's a good side and bad side. The bad is, too much vitamin A is toxic. It causes many uwanted side-effects like yellow skin and fatigue. Best thing? A multi-vitamin daily.
WHY DOES SPICY FOOD MAKE YOUR NOSE RUN? (So embarrassing....) It's Capsaicin. This chemical stimulates the central nervous system fibers that control fluid in the nasal passages and stomach. The good side? Research into Capsaicin is very promising in the treatment of nerve diseases. Yeah!!!
WHY IS IT BAD TO CRACK YOUR KNUCKLES? This isn't as harmful as some think. Unless, of course, you're near someone who is irritated by the sound, then you might experience intense pain in the area where you were punched. The fact is, popping knuckles does not cause arthritis. Too much of it causes the ligaments to stretch making it difficult to grasp things. So what causes that pop sound? Bubbles bursting in the synovial fluid surrounding the joint. Interesting, eh?
WHY DO SOME FOLKS HAVE AN INNIE AND OTHERS HAVE AN OUTIE? Contrary to most thinking it has nothing to do with where the umbilical cord is cut. We just put a clip on, cut, and wait for the dried up cord tissue to fall off. It's all purely random.
WHY ARE YAWNS CONTAGIOUS? Since we really don't know, the most common theory is that it's behavioral. Humans tend to imitate other humans, unconsciously. Even fish yawn, among many other animals. I'm starting to yawn just thinking about it ......
CAN YOU LOSE A CONTACT LENS IN THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD? Oh this is great I love this. Many people come running into the ER screaming that they've lost their contact in the back of their head. Most times it's found all folded up behind the eyelid. But not always; sometimes it's nowhere to be found. So where is it??? Probably at home on the bathroom floor. There's no where else for it to go!
WHAT ARE THE STRONGEST AND LONGEST MUSCLES IN THE BODY? Relative to size, most would say the tongue is the strongest, but it's not. Wait'll you hear this. First, the longest is the sartorius, which slants across the thigh onto the knee. And the strongest are two, actually: the masseter for chewing, and (get ready) the good old gluteus maximus. ! ! ! ! !
WHY DO YOUR TEETH CHATTER WHEN YOU'RE COLD? When the body sinks too far below 98.6 degrees F, it sends a message to the hypothalamus to start warming up. Shivering is the rapid movement of the muscles to create heat, and teeth chattering is like shivering.
WHY DO YOU LAUGH WHEN TICKLED? Laughter is a complex process involving muscles and blood pressure. But scientists and researchers alike know that laughing is a bonding experience, a social act. Ever see chimps laughing? Studies show that people are 30 times more likely to laugh in a social setting than when alone (except crazy Aunt Mabel). Reports also show that laughing may predate human evolution - remember the chimps? So it's a form of making a social bond. What about the tickling-lauging connection? It's a reflexive action. Scientists don't know exactly how it works because you can't tickle yourself but it seems to involve an element of surprise. Boo! Notice how we tend to laugh after someone surprises us? LOL!
WHAT ARE THOSE LITTLE HALF MOONS IN YOUR NAILS? They're called lunule and it shows where the hardening process is not yet complete. Here's some good stuff about nails:
Nails grow .004 inches daily.
Fingernails grow faster than toenails.
Toenails are twice as thick as fingernails.
Nails grow faster in summer than in winter.
Men's nails grow faster than women's - and here's something I've noticed all my life:
The nails on your dominant hand are stronger and tend to grow faster.
OKAY NOW YOU WANT THE BIG ANSWER, RIGHT? You probably already know most of all this stuff, so:
Although females have the mammary glands, we ALL start out in the embryonic stage as female. During develoment, the embryo follows a female pattern, or template, until about 6 weeks when the male sex chromosome kicks in to start developing a male embryo. Men are thus left with nipples they have no real use for, like ear lobes or the tips of our noses, even the appendix. These are called vestigial organs and tissue. In about oh say, 100,000 years, these will start to disappear as we continue to evolve as humans. Until then, at least there are plenty of nerve endings in the nipple area so they're not entirely useless. Interesting.
Let me give credit to the book "Why Do Men Have Nipples" where alot more good stuff is found, I'll post more when I get new glasses lol!!