Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Today's Best Commercial
Travelers Insurance.....replacement insurance...a rattlesnake is posed, as if ready to strike ssssssssss..... The rabbit shows fear until his realizes the snake's rattle has been replaced with a baby rattle. The rabbit laughs then he and the other rabbits are laughing hysterically. Great commerical.
Friday, October 8, 2010
The Slippers
My slippers disappeared. They were a Christmas gift from my daughter. The only gift I received for Christmas 2010. Oh, I forgot there was a second gift. A lighter from my granddaughter, although I questioned why she would purchase one with a dragon design. This was ok, I couldn't give anyone a gift either.
The slippers were special because my sixteen year old daughter knew I hated walking barefoot. She was also probably tired of hearing my sister complain of the clickity-clack of my black wooden soled sandals that I used as slippers. My sister also hated the sound of my slippers. Now complaining of the shuffling noise, asking "why can't I pick up my feet."
Never once given consideration that I work standing eight to nine hours a day on a concrete floor. Never once thinking that as much as she hated my shuffling, I found it humiliating that I had to shuffle. My legs feeling as if I was dragging hundred pound weights. An insufferable pain that when I would lay down I would call on God.
She also hated the sound of my brother's slippers. Twelve years of prison had created havoc on his feet, again concrete floors. This along with being on dialysis caused his feet to swell and slippers were his saving grace. In all fairness he would wear his slippers before he was diagnosed with his condition.
He wouldn't have to say anything when he walked in the door. She could hear him shuffling and her face would grimace. His presence seemed to cause her conflict.
So when she complained about my shuffling I knew what she was saying "you sound like him." She finally verbalized it saying just that "you sound like him," looking at me with pure hate. Giving me the same look that her face showed when he came over. I wish I could have seen hurt on her face, seen sadness. She thought he never knew, that he didn't see, but he knew, we talked about it.
He is gone. That same day, Christmas 2010. I found him dead, the day I received my slippers and my dragon lighter.
If the sound of my shuffling railed up an emotion of missing him, I would understand. If my slippers engulfed her in emotional pain, again I would understand. But the disdain that her face showed when he was alive, when he walked in shuffling, you are now saying the same thing towards me. Never given credence to my physical suffering. Or being proud that I made it through the day. That I made it through.
I searched in closets, under beds, even the garage and have yet to find the slippers. I know they're in the trash,I know their gone. What could make a person be so insensitive that not only were they a gift, they were mine. My slippers were the only thing that I had that represented something good for Christmas day (and my dragon lighter). They were the correlation of joy and pain. Something good, something bad.
I liked the sound. It reminded me of him. Yes, I shuffle but that represents victory for me, that I did it. I made it even when I sometimes told myself I could not do it. No one can tell me this was never her intent. It's what I know, seen and have told. In this bottom line she trashed him in life and in death.
The slippers were special because my sixteen year old daughter knew I hated walking barefoot. She was also probably tired of hearing my sister complain of the clickity-clack of my black wooden soled sandals that I used as slippers. My sister also hated the sound of my slippers. Now complaining of the shuffling noise, asking "why can't I pick up my feet."
Never once given consideration that I work standing eight to nine hours a day on a concrete floor. Never once thinking that as much as she hated my shuffling, I found it humiliating that I had to shuffle. My legs feeling as if I was dragging hundred pound weights. An insufferable pain that when I would lay down I would call on God.
She also hated the sound of my brother's slippers. Twelve years of prison had created havoc on his feet, again concrete floors. This along with being on dialysis caused his feet to swell and slippers were his saving grace. In all fairness he would wear his slippers before he was diagnosed with his condition.
He wouldn't have to say anything when he walked in the door. She could hear him shuffling and her face would grimace. His presence seemed to cause her conflict.
So when she complained about my shuffling I knew what she was saying "you sound like him." She finally verbalized it saying just that "you sound like him," looking at me with pure hate. Giving me the same look that her face showed when he came over. I wish I could have seen hurt on her face, seen sadness. She thought he never knew, that he didn't see, but he knew, we talked about it.
He is gone. That same day, Christmas 2010. I found him dead, the day I received my slippers and my dragon lighter.
If the sound of my shuffling railed up an emotion of missing him, I would understand. If my slippers engulfed her in emotional pain, again I would understand. But the disdain that her face showed when he was alive, when he walked in shuffling, you are now saying the same thing towards me. Never given credence to my physical suffering. Or being proud that I made it through the day. That I made it through.
I searched in closets, under beds, even the garage and have yet to find the slippers. I know they're in the trash,I know their gone. What could make a person be so insensitive that not only were they a gift, they were mine. My slippers were the only thing that I had that represented something good for Christmas day (and my dragon lighter). They were the correlation of joy and pain. Something good, something bad.
I liked the sound. It reminded me of him. Yes, I shuffle but that represents victory for me, that I did it. I made it even when I sometimes told myself I could not do it. No one can tell me this was never her intent. It's what I know, seen and have told. In this bottom line she trashed him in life and in death.
Another Settling
Even when you ask someone to settle a bet it causes an issue. Someone will always be offended, the one you disagree with.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Settling
Never settle. Compromising is ok but settling only makes you question yourself. I.e. where do you want to eat? You say you don't care, go where your taken and you look at the menu and say "uh" instead of "Uhmm." It's the same for everything in your life, you settle, taking what you can get and you suffer. Questioning "how did I get here."
I settled for a job, the first one that came available. I hated turning in the application and guess what, right, I got the job. There has not yet been a day that I have regreted it.
What I know....when I reflect on the past, everytime...everyeveryeveryeveryEVERYTIME I have settled, I've regreted it.
I settled for a job, the first one that came available. I hated turning in the application and guess what, right, I got the job. There has not yet been a day that I have regreted it.
What I know....when I reflect on the past, everytime...everyeveryeveryeveryEVERYTIME I have settled, I've regreted it.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
I Love Reality Shows
I said I would share about me. I love reality shows. Chopped, Project Runway, The Housewives of Atlanta (NeNe is the worst and I wish I had Dwight's complexion), Survivor, Amazing Race and the raunchy Bad Girls Club. I'm still trying to figure out what woman would want Real and Chance. So Sunday through Saturday if there is a reality show you know I'm watching.
I like watching Iron Chef and cooking shows. Now the question is "do I cook," no. But I bet I can.
I like watching Iron Chef and cooking shows. Now the question is "do I cook," no. But I bet I can.
Today for Vee.1
I thought of you today. Just as I did yesterday and every day before that. That's what brothers and sisters do, think of each other.
It was 54 degrees this morning and I wondered if you had to go out. If you did, hoped you wouldn't have on slippers. Seems like anything under 70 degrees makes you sniff. Then it hit me, like it always does - your gone. God I miss you. I ask the same question, when does the pain stop, when does this pain stop
Today, as it did yesterday and every day before that, I hear your voice saying "Tee, I'm ok." I wish it was enough and yet it's all I've got. Someone said it's more than they ever had, hearing your voice.
I haven't figured out yet is this good or is it bad. For when I hear you, I see you. I see your eyes and miss you more. I see you as I found you, dead, and wonder how do I live with this. And I hear your voice say "Tee, I'm ok." I know you are, but today it's not enough.
It was 54 degrees this morning and I wondered if you had to go out. If you did, hoped you wouldn't have on slippers. Seems like anything under 70 degrees makes you sniff. Then it hit me, like it always does - your gone. God I miss you. I ask the same question, when does the pain stop, when does this pain stop
Today, as it did yesterday and every day before that, I hear your voice saying "Tee, I'm ok." I wish it was enough and yet it's all I've got. Someone said it's more than they ever had, hearing your voice.
I haven't figured out yet is this good or is it bad. For when I hear you, I see you. I see your eyes and miss you more. I see you as I found you, dead, and wonder how do I live with this. And I hear your voice say "Tee, I'm ok." I know you are, but today it's not enough.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
My First
Writing this is like the first time. First time riding a bike without training wheels or going to the store all by yourself. Today is like the first time riding the bus or the day you cussed. Today is my first time that I can air my thoughts, my writings, my life. Today will be the first time that I can write about the commercials I love and the commercial I CANNOT STAND, and therefore will never by that product.
Today is my first day.
Today is my first day.
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