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Monday, April 26, 2010

Relationships...real and otherwise

It used to be a lot of fun to sign on to face book and converse with all those long lost friends. Then suddenly, one day, I realized I had nothing to say. I can't imagine anyone caring what I had for lunch or what movie I want to see, even if they are my "friend". Some of the people who have "friended" me, I can't even remember. I'm sure I am supposed to know them because according to their profile they graduated with me. I usually accept their friend request, however. I figure the one brain cell holding my memories of them fell off and died during a big bong hit somewhere in the past.

Also I have so many of these friends now, it's confusing and kind of stressful. You know, I have over 200 "friends" and yet I spend most of my free time alone. Could it be they are not really my friends? Are these not real relationships? LOL

I really dislike the little abbreviations used in texting. If I ever use the letters LOL , please know it is dripping with sarcasm, or LOL DWS. At first I didn't understand why people liked to text. We are becoming so impersonal, why cant we pick up the phone and talk? Now I realize how easy it is to text someone a question or information without having to go through all the how are yous and whatcha doin's . We don't have to be polite or concerned with one another. Just say what you need to say and be done with it. Wow, think about it. That's sad.

As impersonal as we are with people we know, we all want to get real personal with the ones we think we know. Like, Tiger, or Jon and Kate. Why do we care?

I usually don't care. I don't watch reality shows or Entertainment Tonight. Honestly, I get all my celebrity news from The Soup and Chelsey Lately. I know I shouldn't watch Chelsey Lately, but it's so funny. Anyway, like I said, I usually don't care, but I like Sandra Bullock. I just can't understand how someone like her got mixed up with such low life thugs. Who was she taking counsel from? Where is her mother?

I had some bad relationships in my life and I learned some hard lessons. So I always told my girls, men are like buses. If you miss one, another one will be around the corner soon. But, if you get on the wrong bus, you'll ride and ride until you don't know where you are, and you'll have to call your daddy to come and get you. I think that's pretty good advice.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Observations, or, The World as Far as I Know

Sitting in a Starbucks in Austin on Sunday morning, I noticed a very small boy with his grandmother. The little boy went over and picked out his juice like he knew exactly what he wanted. He and the grandmother seemed so at home in that place, I thought this must surely be a Sunday morning routine for the two.

Then came the soccer Dads. This latest phenomenon has really caught my attention. Everywhere you look in the bigger cities, you see fathers with little tiny girls all dressed up in their soccer uniforms. I think it's great that these fathers have taken an interest in their daughters and that their daughters have an interest in sports.

The thing is, what may seem like an every day hum drum event to you, may look like a warm fuzzy bonding moment to someone watching. And that's what these events truly are.

When I took my son, Eric to McDonald's after his kindergarten program, I didn't realize how special it was to him, spending time with me, without his sisters being present. I saw that same little boy come out years later when we were running around the Antique Rose Emporium in south Texas.

Ive always had such a soft heart toward my son. I never could stand to see him hurt and he seemed to have such tender feelings. I remember when I was a young girl and I may have, allegedly, treated some boy badly, my mother would always take the boy's side. She would say "some day some little girl will break your son's heart and you will see how it feels."

So many of the things my mother said seemed more like curses. One of my brothers chose to have only one child because Mom said he would have a dozen just like him one day.

I'm a mom, so I know Ive used guilt a few times to make a point but I hope my kids have always known I was on their side. I hope Ive given them some warm fuzzy memories and maybe some good advice.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

I'm sitting in a motel in Brownwood, struggling with a very slow Internet connection. We spent the weekend in Austin, visiting our kids. I really enjoyed my time with them, but I'm always a little sad when it's over. However, I have come to realize it is easier to leave than to be left.

A couple of nights ago I was in this same motel and checking my email when I got word one of my friends from high school had died. Like I said, this is a very slow connection, so I'm still waiting to hear what happened. But whatever it was, I'm very heart broken. I keep thinking about the last time I saw her.

It was five weeks after Lauren died, when she, Gail, called me. We were about to have a school reunion and she was making sure I was going to be there. She told me that with what I was going through, no one would blame me if I didn't go. I told her, we loose someone after every one of these things and I didn't know who I would be seeing for the last time. She got really quiet and I figured she was thinking about the funeral of a friend we had both been to a few months before. But now I wonder if she knew something.

On the last night of the reunion, I was tired and ready to go home. I said my goodbye's to everyone, but Gail was no where to be found, so I told Susan to tell her I said goodbye and I would see her next time. And that was it.

I feel sad for all the wasted time.
My kids are right. All my stories do end with someone dying. But that's how life goes. You either leave or you are left.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

For Claude

Today I attended the first funeral I have been to since Lauren died. I went to a graveside service for my sister in-law back in November. That was hard, but quicker and less painful. There have been other funerals in the past three years, but I just couldn't make myself go. No matter the relationship to the deceased, I was afraid I would cry when I saw all the sad faces of the families. As I said before, I can't weep quietly. It always turns into uncontrollable sobbing.
But this was different. I thought so much of this ninety one year old man, I wanted to be there and see him off to his new home. He was my buddy. We had long conversations on a daily basis when we worked next door to each other. And yes, at ninety one, he was still working. I loved that old bear and will miss him until I see him again.
I had a memory today during the service. One Christmas eve we were at the church for communion during an ice storm. His wife had stayed in because of the weather and he was hesitant to go in by himself. I held his hand and we walked down the aisle and took communion together. I didn't realize it would be such a precious memory some day.
I think I became so fond of him when I saw how supportive he was of Lauren.
When she was a senior in high school, she and some friends got into some trouble when they decided a rival school's bronze mascot should be pink. Well after bail was posted and tongues were wagging she was feeling pretty low. The rivalry between these two schools ran long and deep, way back into the old man's day. His response was " I don't know why we didn't think of that". Every time he saw Lauren he would tell her he had some painting he needed done, and maybe pink.
She loved him and he was one of the many people who were there for me when I lost her.
I still don't like funerals, but I guess it was time to lay it down. I was honored to attend this funeral for my friend.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

A Brief and Unfocused History Lesson

There were a few bad decisions made in the 70's. Some altered history and changed lives. Others were just humiliating. What knowledge was gained from that whole wire tapping thing that went on at the Watergate Hotel? I think McGovern's values were pretty much laid out when he campaigned on ending the war and legalizing marijuana. Able to vote for the first time in 1976, I cast my ballot for Jimmy Carter solely on an article I read in Rolling Stone. Eighteen was also the legal drinking age at the time, so this was not the only bad decission I would make That year.

In my opinion, the worse thing to happen to society in the 70's was not Watergate, Vietnam or even disco. It was something much more hideous. I call it the White Guy Afro. A bad idea from the beginning, I can't imagine how it all started, but it's with us even today. It's in our high school year books, family albums and reruns of the Ropers. I felt sorry for the curly haired boys who spent so much time trying to tame their unruly locks. Now suddenly it was cool to let it bush out everywhere. It was OK until straight haired people started getting perms and that's when it all went wrong. These same people now live in fear, one of their children, coming across some old photo, will know how uncool his parent really was.

Every generation has their own statement, be it fashion or politics. These days it's all about being environmentally friendly or Green. I wonder what effect tattoo ink will have on the environment? Oh yes, everybody who is anybody must have their body tatted. All the girls under 35, that I know, have a tattoo on their lower back. My pastor calls it crack art. I thought about getting a tattoo, just to give the nurses in the old folks home something to talk about. But, I had my lips tattooed a while back and it hurt really, really bad. I had natural child birth three times and I can tell you honestly, it was a breeze compared to this.

A friend of mine recently had her nose pierced and I thought this just can't be good. But when I saw her, I liked it. It works for her. Of course she's very young very thin and very pretty. Well, It's not like she got a perm or anything.

Monday, April 5, 2010

A Day In The Life Of A Texas Rangers Fan

I am not superstitious and I don't believe in bad luck.......except in baseball.

After looking forward to this day for many cold wet months, it finally is here. Opening day at the Ball Park. Watching on my new flat screen plasma TV, I sat, mesmerized, taking in the beauty of a fresh new spring. The park was filled to capacity, the field was a lovely shade of green and the Rangers looked awesome in the Red and white uniforms, usually reserved for Saturday games. All was right with the world. Then my lunch break was over and I had to get back to work.

Upon returning to the bank, I went to the ESPN website and pulled up the game cast. It's not like actually watching the game but a good way to keep up, and still get your work done.

Things were not going well. The Blue jays had scored three runs in the first couple of innings and it was now late in the seventh and the Rangers still had not scored. I started thinking about last season and how every time I watched them by game cast they lost. I know it's crazy to think anything I do could have an impact on the game. I mean, I love the Rangers but I know they can loose without any help from me or anyone else. But a true fan thinks of these things.

I thought about turning it off, but it was too late. I started this thing and I had to finish it.

My loyalty and diligence paid off. They won in the bottom of the ninth. Joyful voices were heard through out the bank and once again, all was right with the world.

It's going to be a wonderful season. Play Ball.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Oh Happy Day

Happy Resurrection Day!

When you are knee deep in marshmallow eggs and plastic grass today, stop for a minute and tell Jesus thank you. Remember the life given for you and the one who thought you were worth it.


About Me

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A wife, mother, and spoiler of small dogs, I grew up in a small West Texas town, with my eyes full of sand, and my heart full of joy.

white punks