It's a Beautiful Day in the Hood!

THREE! Can you say three? Three is a very good number and the number I was given for chemo treatments, better than six, eight, ten or twelve! I still lose my hair, oh well, can't cry about that! Went today and bought two wigs. One long, one short. One called Nona, (like the song: Nona, N-O-N-A, Nona! Oh, no that was Lola, okay it isn't like the song!) the other Alexia. The color: Spring Honey see the short wig below. They are from the Rachel Welch collection. I looked for some silicone boobies in the boxes but there were only the wigs. One can always hope and dream, damn it!

I Will Survive!

Tomorrow I visit the oncologist to get all the details about starting my chemotherapy treatments. Actually, I have found out that what I will be getting is pretty much just plutonium, isn't that what they make bombs out of? So, I have my list of questions, such as "Will I explode?" "How long before my hair falls out?" "When can we have sex again?" "How many medications will you give me to forget all the crap that's happening to my body?" "Does this qualify for medicinal pot?" "When can we have sex again?" Oh, yea, asked that one already.

Well, I am pumped up and ready to kick some cancer ass! To everyone out in blogland I have three words: "I Will Survive!" However, I am not so certain they have been totally honest about all the side effects...

The New Engagement Ring? Say What?

I just have to post this. I was listening to public radio yesterday and they had some young couples on who were talking about relationships and stated that an engagement ring isn't what it used to be. That now, to show a girl/guy you are committed to them and want an exclusive relationship with them and show you trust them, you have sex without a condom. That's right Sex Without a Condom, the new engagement ring! Now isn't that romantic?

The Magic of Watercolors

I decided to start my art journal yesterday. I got out my watercolors that have been pretty much abandoned since my insomnia picture days. That's when I first started painting, that is painting other than the scenic art I have done in the theatre. It was about 7 years ago, I found myself alone for the first time in my life. I would wake up at 1 or 2AM and couldn't sleep, so very alone and so afraid. I decided if I was going to be up for 3 and 4 hours in the middle of the night I needed to do something productive.

And so I painted. Every fear would vanish for those hours. I didn't have one clue how to paint I just painted. Some were good, some not so good. Lots of ocean scenes, actually tons of ocean scenes. It was calming and very soothing. When I needed it the most they brought some solice to my life and some small bit of sanity to a completely fractured soul.

Eventually, six months later, my life got back on track, and the paints and the paintings were put on a shelf in a cabinet, and I had pretty much forgotten all about them. Through the years that followed I started painting with acrylics, I started beading and pretty much abandoned the watercolors, too much trouble, too hard to control.

It seemed right somehow to pull them out to start the journal. I need to see the vibrant colors that emerge off the bristles of the brush and spread across the wet paper. I need that hope. I need the fear to vanish even if for a little while.

And so I pull out the watercolors and it comes to me as the blue spreads across the paper. You are strong. Yes, I am. Just have faith. I will. Believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams. They are still there. You are still here. Yes I am.

There is faith and hope in those tubes and somehow I instinctively knew there was also a soothing power as well. I can tell right away, that it's been much too long since I sqeezed the paint on the palate, dipped the brush in the water and put the paint to paper. But that's okay, it sends me a message even in its mediocrity that embraces my scared being letting me know everything will be okay.

Old Hippies for Peace

I had my dear Beni (hubby) get me out of the house this morning, we drove over to my Mom and Dad's house for a change of scenery. It turned into me being put to task by my mom when I told her I wasn't feeling good. Of course, I was doing too much and I need to quit going to the store and shopping (I went to Michaels for 5 minutes-Oh, and Sunflower Market 10 minutes) so she is already to start bringing in the casseroles again. I can't complain really, because she made my favorite squash casserole when I came home from the hospital among many others. I love you mom!

Anyway, just needed to get out of the house was feeling punky. On the way back home we had a guy pull up and signal to roll down our window. "I like your bumber sticker! I'm an old hippie, too!" "Aren't we all" says Beni. I smile. I love driving around in my sunflower yellow Nisson Xterra. I know Beni hates it, even though I have tried to convince him it is much smaller and better on gas than my old SUV. He would have me in a Prius. You need to understand he walks or rides a bike. I'm more of a jeep sorta girl and need something that can pull my tent trailer. I'm a girl with NEEDS!



Anyway you have to picture the bright yellow Nisson with a paddedd green peace sign on the grill and several Peace bumper stickers and deadhead dancing bears on the back. It's a happy car. I get homeless people that hold up a peace hand sign when I drive by and a big smile. Makes me feel good to make people smile. And I always get these old guys pulling up besides me and signaling me to open my window, and everytime I think I have cut them off and they are going to yell at me. Instead, it's always, "I like your stickers!" Me too. Peace and Love!

Note: Check out my June 2007 post for more of my stickers and the old and new SUV.

It's Monsoon Season

It's monsoon season in Vegas. The winds start blowing in the afternoon, the clouds tumble in, thunder and lightening roars and crackles across the sky, the smell of rain permeates the air and then the flood gates open. It's weird though, because it doesn't rain over the entire city, different sections get hit. We only have had sprinkles and yet other parts of town are flooded. But the end result leaves the air cool and smelling fresh and clean, a nice reprieve from the smog filled oven of our Vegas summer days. It reminds me of camping on the Oregon Coast. I wish I could be there now without a care in the world. My mind free from all the confusion and fear that currently has taken up residency.

People ask me how I feel. I don't know how to honestly answer that. Physically? I'm sore, sometimes in a lot of pain but doing well. Mentally? Okay. Afraid of what is ahead of me with the chemo. Emotionally? I feel like a monsoon is inside of me and the floodgates are going to open any minute and the tears are going to pour out. My womb is gone. I feel empty. It protected and fed four babies. It was my last connection to a very special, intimate time. It was what made me a woman. It's gone. I keep thinking of this ugly alien invader that somehow managed to attack my body and I didn't even know it was there. It stole something precious to me. I didn't expect to feel this way. But I do. How can I explain that to people who ask how I feel?

I now understand exactly these lyrics of Eleanor Rigby..."wearing the face that she keeps in the jar by the door." I have had to grab that face put it on, smile, pretend.

So whenever anyone asks I just say, "I feel great. Getting better each day."

I remember how very lucky I am. My gynecologist called me a couple of days ago and and said I must have a really great guardian angel, because for the type of tumor and how advanced it was for it to have not spread was truly a miracle. I am a lucky girl. That's what I will try and concentrate on. I just wish I could go to the beach watch the waves roll in, see the seagulls soar, hear the kids laughing and splashing in the water and not have to think about what the next few months has in store for me. I want to feel the warm sun and the cool salt air on my body. I want to run on the beach and splash in the water, I want to fly my kites and get the string all tangled and spend hours untangling it. I want to play my guitar around the camp fire. I want to sing and laugh. I want to run and feel strong.

Instead my mind wanders to the hospital, sitting 5 hours with an IV that will slowly drip poison into my body. It will kill the bad cells. It will kill the good cells. It will make me sick. I will lose my hair. There will be pain. There will probably be tears and some self-pity. But it will not get the best of me. Because I am going to kick this things ass! Chew it up and puke it out!

I know, like the monsoons, it may be a terrible storm, but it will pass. But you know, I just can't help it that I am a little scared. I have always hated the wind blowing at night, and that is what this feels like, dark and scary.

Blahg Revolution!

Three cheers for BlahgHer! Thank you V-Grrrl for your inspiration on so many levels.
I am inspired! It's been just one week since I was released from the hospital for my Ovarian Cancer surgery and I decided that my recovery would be a time of growth and not one of self-pity, or being a whiny ass about being hit with this disease. I am convinced that this cancer was the result of a much stress-filled life. I know I am the only one who can rid myself of the demands of this stress that seems to follow me in whatever I am doing. It must stop. How can I use my time away from work (and housework) as a learning and growing experience? I decided I would dive in to as many of my art hobbies as possible. Bring them out of the closet so to speak. Stop stressing and start creating.

With that said, I am so excited about having time to work on stuff I have started and stuffed into closets or under the bed and really try and develop my talents! I'm not going to worry about how good they are, just that it brings me great joy in the creating. It gives me the opportunity to try and capture a small glimpse of Brenda on the inside and throw it out there for all to see, good or bad. I know I would rather improve on my limited abilities in a variety of areas, instead of trying to be an expert in one given area. So, for now, I will bounce around to what the day moves me to do, whether it be the challenge of working with watercolors, the joy of blending acrylics, the capturing of a moment in time in photography, or just the satisfaction of accomplishment I get from beading or crocheting.

Not mastering any of these arts used to leave me with a great sense of inadequacy. After reading V-grrrl and tracking down the book "Journal Revolution" which really encourages one to just do it, whatever "it" is and enjoy the expression of one's self, has given me a new courage to start anew.

I'm so jazzed about this wonderful book: "Journal Revolution: Rise Up & Create! Art Journals, Personal Manifestos and Other Artistic Insurrections" by Linda Woods and Karen Dinino. It encourages you to create your art no matter the media, let it come from within to be an expression of who you are and what you are feeling. It was so liberating! I truly paint for myself enjoyment so who cares that it isn't perfect?



I realize I need to stop being the critic. The learning is in the mistakes and I need to learn to appreciate the mistakes for what they are. Many times it's the accidents that are the best part of a piece. Yet, being a perfectionist is the character trait (flaw) that is my greatest barrier in developing my art. Much of my work shown here is unfinished, pieces started and left for another day, many needing the highlights and shadows to complete but me feeling hesitant on where to start. Well, now the time has come to just do it! Yea! I am free to just be me!

I'm Not Dead Yet!

On Tuesday, July 8, the day after my TAH BSO surgery(Total Abdominal Hysterectomy Bilateral Salpingo-Oopherectomy), the doctor came in and told me "it was cancer."

It all started in Austin. I was presenting at a conference and the day before I was to come home was hit with horrible nausea and stomach pains. Okay, I was eating at every Mexican restaurant I could find, some were real hole-in-the-wall places, so I assumed I had food poisoning. When I flew home the next day still in so much pain, I landed and went straight to the ER. They thought it was my appendix, the CT scan showed a pelvic mass. WHAT?

The next month was a blur of doctor visits, referrals, blood tests and setting a date for surgery, June 7, 10AM. I had always gone for all my check ups. I had a pea size cyst on my ovary at last check up. So, probably just a cyst. Nothing to worry about. And I am not a worrier, so I believed I would have the hysterectomy, 6 weeks to recover work on my art and other projects and that would be it. But the doctor blew that image to smitherines with her "cancer" statement. Am I in shock? I don't know, I took it pretty well I think. She tells me lymph nodes and the omentum (what the heck is that and do I need it?) were removed. We will know more when the test results come back. So I wait a week.

July 15, I go to have the staples removed and get the results of the biopsies. I have been pretty calm all week. All my research indicates Ovarian cancer isn't usually discovered until the later stages. I hope I am in the 15% of those in the early stages and will have a good chance of survival. I can't believe I would survive my near drowning last summer to be hit with this now. I tell myself I've always been pretty lucky. The doctor tells me all lymph nodes were negative. All tissue tested--negative. By the time I had the surgery the tumor was the size of a cantaloupe and was attached to my bowel, rectum and uterus. It ruptured during the surgery which really grosses me out to think about all that gunk inside, but doctor assures me I was completely washed clean. I will have chemo. I will most likely lose my hair. Hair grows back, I don't care about my hair. I am excited that I won't have to shave my legs and will be getting a free Brazilian! How cool is that? I am thrilled it is stage I. I am very lucky.

The doctor is classifying the cancer as Stage 1 c. Which is really good because most Ovarian Cancer isn't diagnosed until stage III when the success rate isn't very good. They haven't determined the type of ovarian cancer and I am still waiting for the results of that, but hopefully the Stage I will remain the classification.


Here's a picture of my staples and then after they were removed two days ago and the steri-strips attached. I'm a little concerned about the weirdness of my belly button! Oh well! I know you can't tell because of the swelling of my stomach, but after four kids, I had NO stretch marks at all. I know I shouldn't be upset about the scar. But I am.

I have now been out of the hospital a week, and will start chemotherapy in the beginning of August. Very strange that I about drown last summer only to be hit with one of the deadliest cancers for women this summer, in an early stage that is still treatable. I must have a tremendous guardian angel looking out for me.

For now I am researching all I can, trying to find how to ease the side effects of the chemo, how to try and build up my body prior to the treatments, how to beat this thing and get back to my tennis, back to normal whatever that is.

My theme song for now is from Spamalot: "I am not dead yet, I can sing and I can dance, no need to call the doctor cuz I'm not yet dead!" I had it on my cell phone while in the hospital, drove the doctors and nurses crazy!

I will be off work for at least 8 weeks I will have plenty of time to start blogging again and getting back in touch with my blog friends who must have thought I had already jumped off the face of the earth! For now anyway, I am still hanging on and I'm not dead yet!

Run River Run

My advice to anyone thinking whitewater rafting in a ducky (inflatable kayak) would be fun....DON'T DO IT!

I have done a little bit of whitewater rafting on the Rogue River in Oregon. Almost every year. Not hard core but II's and III's and depending on the flow of the river, sometimes even a IV. Never was I thrown from the raft. Never did I feel afraid.

When in Colorado this summer in a great little historic town, Salida, which is near the Arkansas River and home to many rafting companies, the hubs and I decide to go whitewater rafting. Sounded fun. On the day of, he decides it would be fun to go in the duckies. Now, I am always up for adventure and even though I wasn't keen on the idea, being the trooper I always am, said okay.

That was the first mistake. However, the number one thing I did that day was something I had never done in any of my rafting trips. And that was to have a guide. Don't ask me why.

The guide goes over the if you flip, fold your arms keep your feet up and ride it out drill and we were soon on our way. The first rapid was classified as a III-IV, Hubs becomes a swimmer and I however, make it over the small fall and felt pretty triumphant. We go a little further in II-III level rapids and it's a little scary but I'm doing good. The guide then has us get out and scope out the next one, Seidels Suckhole and Twin Falls. Did I say we had two guides? A guy and a girl. The girl decides she isn't going to run it and would wait and have the guy come back and help her carry her kayak around the river to where we would be waiting.Ummmm, shouldn't that have been a clue that the novices shouldn't run it either?

Okay, so that was the plan. Follow the guide. Number one take the falls at the far left then the far right, NOT DIRECTLY OVER THE FALLS. That's really not an easy thing to do when the river is running as fast as it was. I make it through the suckhole, meanwhile, the hubs is a swimmer again and rides around the falls (excellent choice) catches up to the duckie gets back in and the guide tells him to wait around the bend for us to catch up.

My turn on the falls. I try and follow the path the guide took and make the far left side of the first fall just as he does, but the second one I can't paddle hard enough to get to the right. I see I am going over and paddle hard to straighten up and take it head on as that was my only shot. Right over I go, perfect. Until the big back wash and splash at the bottom tosses me out like a paper doll. Unfortunately, I landed in deep water with the backwash pounding me down under the water even with my life jacket on. I am doing everything I can to try and push myself up out of the water, but when I can get my head up there is so much splash that I'm just sucking in water and then pushed down under again. This goes on for several minutes and I realized I wasn't going to make it out. I was trying everything I could to push myself out of the backwash so the current could take me downriver, but couldn't get out of the hole I was in. I was ready to give up, but told myself to just keep trying don't give up. I was thinking how upset my daughter was going to be when she found out. We were supposed to be to her house the next day.

Meanwhile, the guide sees me fly and the raft go down river and thinks I did too. He paddles over to get my raft and oar and realizes he can't see me. He thinks I have gone around the bend where the hubs is hanging out. He said out of the corner of his eye he saw the top of the red helmet for a second shoot up and then disappear. He quickly got out with his kayak and got up above me and ran that portion of the river again and was able to get close to me. I popped up just at the right moment to see his yellow kayak and grabbed on. He is yelling at me to swim and kick my feet. But I am so fatigued it is all I can do to hang on. He then tells me I have to let go or I am going to flip him when he goes over the next small rapid. I look down river and know I don't have anything left in me to swim. I then see a big rock and know I would have to grab it on the side and hope it wasn't to slippery, or that I didn't get caught under it. I let go in time to grab the rock. I can't tell you how great it was to cough and choke and breathe in air and hold that rock. I held on for about 15 minutes trying to figure out if I could let go and make the swim downstream that I needed to make through the rest of this section of rapids.

I decided to pull myself up over the rock and climb a series of big rocks to get to the side of the river. So, up and over I went and around to where the guide was waiting for me. I then got in the duckie knowing the only way out was down the river.

So, there is the hubs waiting on the side of the river around the bend in a nice little shallow pool. I was a little pissed that he didn't realize that something was wrong when we weren't coming down the river. "Yea, I was a little worried, but I couldn't get back to see what was going on."

I almost drowned. I had to be rescued!

I'm still a little pissed about that!

So, then when that adventure is over and we are in the van being shuttled back into town, I realize my knee, shins and arms are killing me. I look over myself and I am nothing but bruises with a knee swollen up like crazy. I guess I was being pouned into the rocks and didn't even feel it. Thank heavens I didn't feel it, or I am sure I would have quite given up.

I have since found out that 5 people had drowned this summer, more than they ever had. I am counting myself lucky that I wasn't number 6!

Long Time Away!

Things have just been too, too hectic! Yea, I know, welcome to the club. I can't believe it has been a month, though since I have been on my blog, or anyone else's for that matter. I have lot's of stories from my trip to Colorado, the most exciting was I almost drowned and had to be rescued! I truly thought I was a goner. Quite the experience.

I am now up at the Mountains with my tent trailer commuting back and forth to work. I've been up there the last 3 weeks and loving it. Long drive into work, but the cool mountains breezes and the million star night skies have made it worth it.

Meanwhile, I found this picture of me and my hubby and thought it was pretty cute. He is beardless now and hair longer, so is looking more the hippie than the lumber jack of this picture. Peace! And I'll do better once I am down from the mountain.

Peeks at Vacation Photos

My oldest and I waiting for the others to catch up with us at Burney Falls. This is always a stopping point for lunch and an ice cream cone!



Rafting the Rogue.


Love to pick the Blackberries! These were for the dutch oven Blackberry cobbler complete with HOMEMADE Ice Cream!


Beautiful Harris Beach.


Watching the Pelicans dive for the fish was awesome.


My Grandson just couldn't handle this much fun!



Sunset on the last night.

Where Have I Been?

Gee Wizardry! Where have I been?

Reading Harry Potter and almost finished.

Creating a workshop presentation for the college's HR department, developing the presentation and most of the materials. That has been my day and night work for the past 2 weeks. I haven't even been able to read any blogs or catch up with any of my blog friends. However, we did the presentation yesterday and now that is done.

I now have one day to catch up on my real job duties, get all in order before heading off to Oregon tomorrow. So, still a little hectic and lots to do when I get home tonight, like laundry, open up the tent trailer clean it out, pack it up, wash the car, pack my bags, water all the plants so hopefully they won't die while I am gone. I am dreaming here, unless it rains the entire time I am away, they most likely will all be fried!

VACATION!!! Oh, Yea! The real bummer is my hubby doesn't like camping and decided to take a gig out of town and not go. Big fight/discussion followed. My son, the oldest of my kids (31) and my grandson (7) will be driving up with me. My two younger daughters will be driving up on Sunday. On Monday we will all go white water rafting. Tuesday we drive to Brookings Oregon. My most favorite place in the world. (Well, not counting Italy!) Then return to Vegas and hella heat on Sunday.

Peace and Love to all and I will be back in a week.

Counting the Days

At this posting, 4 days, 5 minutes and 43 seconds until the release of the final Harry Potter book 7! EGad!

I have to admit it. I am a huge Harry Potter fan. Perhaps that I used to be a 2nd grade teacher prior to getting my theatre gig has something to do with my love for kids books. But, truly, this is more for adults! I am one of THOSE people who dress up and go to Borders, first in line to get a ticket for the book. Then anxiously waiting until the stroke of midnight before they are handed out. Oh sure, I could pre-order online. And in fact, I have already done that. But, it isn't as exciting.

I have my costume all ready for the big night. It is my version of Professor McGonagall, the strict Transfiguration teacher. I am thinking of taking my grandson, but not sure if he can stay up that late and he'll need a costume.....hmmm. There is time to figure that out. I have been checking out the fan sites, reading some of the theories regarding the final outcome. Here is some info from Muggles.net:

Character Information

* We will find out something "incredibly important" about Lily Potter.
* R.A.B's identity will be revealed.
* We will discover more about Dumbledore's past.
* We will learn with whom Snape's loyalties lie.
* Something will be revealed about Petunia Dursley, although we already know that she is not a Squib.
* Viktor Krum will return (World Book Day, 2004 interview).
* We will see a reappearance of Dolores Umbridge: "It's too much fun to torture her not to have another little bit more before I finish." (MuggleNet/Leaky Interview)
* JKR has said "There is a character who does manage, in desperate circumstances, to do magic quite late in life, but that is very rare..."

Plot Information

* Harry will face Voldemort for the final time.
* Harry will be attempting to find and destroy Voldemort’s remaining Horcruxes.
* Harry will return to the Dursleys' during the school vacation, but the magical protection Dumbledore arranged will expire when Harry comes of age on his 17th birthday.
* Harry will go to Godric's Hollow.
* The two-way mirror will make a reappearance.
* Fleur and Bill's wedding will occur.li>
* The fact that Harry "has his mother's eyes" will prove to be an important plot point.
* At least one character will die.

Other

* The last word is expected to be "scar," but may change.
* We will learn the exact reason why some people become ghosts when they die and others do not.
* The final chapter, which has already been written, will detail what happens to the surviving characters.
* There will be no more Quidditch matches


Now, how many others will admit they are on pins and needles, just as I am, awaiting the big night?

Just for a Second

Isn't it amazing what we take for granted each day? Time and life just flys by with us rushing here and there trying to be all to everyone and how much of what we really do is truly important? How many times do we neglect those who are most important to finish something not finished at work, do some committee work? How many times do we not have time to see the test brought home with pride with the "A" or listen to what our kids want to tell us that happened to them that day, or even say "I love you?"

My mom calls me the other day to tell me of a friend of ours, a little younger than me. Her 22 and 8 year old daughters were killed in a car accident. Their two cousins 4 and 5 had seat belts on and were not seriously injured. The younger girl had taken off her seat belts just for a moment to try and fix a cord that had come undone to the game thing the younger kids were playing. She couldn't get it. The older one who was driving undid hers to try and reach back and fix it. Just a moment, veered off the road, over corrected and flipped 7 times.

The parents had been traveling ahead of them. The highway patrol had found the oldest's cell phone and dialed "mom." "Your daugther's been in a accident....." They turned around and drove back to the accident. They were already gone in the few minutes it took them to drive back.

I know my first thought probably would have been, "did I tell them I loved them this morning?" I can only imagine all the other things that would fly through my head, forever.

My sister talked with the mom yesterday. She says she doesn't know what to do with her hands. Fixing their breakfast, making their beds, folding their clothes, braiding their hair. Just doesn't know what to do with her hands.

We take so much for granted. In a second it can all be gone, that which is most precious, that which is the only thing that matters to us at all.

Hug your kids, tell them you love them. Tell them to keep their seat belts on no matter what. Don't undo it. Not even for a second.

I'm back. I have been commuting from Mount Charleston and loving the cool mountain weather. It's a little bit of a drive, but well worth it considering the heat factor in town. I have had a crazy week, thinking I was to have a nice relaxing 5 days off in the mountains. It quickly turned into a hectic drive to Cedar City for a meeting regarding one of my productions that may be going through some major changes, which would negatively affect my budget for the program. To top it off, I didn't want to lose my spot up in the mountains so had to leave my vehicle up there and have my dear sweet hubby drive me. He has a motorcycle.

It's triple digits here, making a trip on the motorbike quite amazingly miserable. We left at 8:00pm and still was in the 100's. Ever ride on a bike for over 3 hours? Butt gets really sore, knees really want to just straighten out after about 30 minutes, and then the wind in your face, the HOT wind in your face. Quite the experience. I had put my hair in a ponytail thinking that would help keep it from getting too tangled. Wrong! Took me about an hour to brush through it and get all the tangles and knots out of it.


Fortunately, the weather in Cedar is much cooler and with the perks of my job, we got to see four great plays. USF has a Tony award winning regional theatre and is always great fun to attend the plays and participate in the seminars. Yes, this picture shows my favorite scene in Twelfth Night! What a hunk!

We drove back on the 4th, I was a little melancholy thinking about missing the fireworks. However, when we got to the Valley of Fire exit, which happens to be on an Indian reservation complete with a store that sells illegal fireworks, there were an amazing display being set off. We stopped and watched that and after an hour drove on in to town, making it back up to the mountain after midnight. Dirty and dead tired, but cool!

WHAT IS PEACE AND WHERE CAN I FIND IT? Or get me out of here quick!

"The traditional political definition of peace and the very word itself originated among the ancient Romans who defined peace, pax, as absentia belli, the absence of war...the absence of violence"

Okay, I won't kill the cats.

...Mahatma Gandhi's conception of peace was not as an end, but as a means: "There is no way to peace; peace is the way. "

Great! I am supposed to find my own calm and tranquility amongst the chaos of my office, surrounded by Yuppies, two disgusting cats and the endless negative energy of the media. Where's the peace? Where's my Zen?


After two cats (that were brought into my home without my consent) destroyed the last of 12 plants, knocking over a iron screen with six potted plants with delicate ceramic pots and breaking the vase my daughter gave me, my stress level has reached a peak. To those around me I have remained a pillar standing serene, with a smallish smile painted across my face trapping all the expletives trying to escape. Inside an explosion is about to be detonated.

"...More generally, peace can pertain to an individual relative to her or his environment, as peaceful can describe calm, serenity, and silence. This latter understanding of peace can also pertain to an individual's sense of himself or herself, as to be "at peace" with one's self would indicate the same serenity, calm, and equilibrium within oneself..."

Oh shut up! I have found the road to peace, it is in my car with my tent trailer bouncing behind me up the road to the mountains while counting to one million and five!

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

If only they were fish! FLUSH!

Phantom Las Vegas One Year!

http://www.phantomlasvegas.com/

Okay, so yea I'm excited! Phantom is having their one-year anniversary celebration tonight for the cast and crew (and spouses!!) after the show. That means I must have a new outfit. Right?

These are usually great affairs, the opening night party was so, so cool. Andrew Lloyd Weber, oh excuse me, SIR Andrew Lloyd Weber and Hal Prince were there, plus many celebrities in attendance. This may not be as big as all that, but it will be great food, drinks, music and all in all pretty fancy smancy! So, new outfit!!

I probably should have been thinking about this way before tonight. But, gee with work, tennis, Father's Day, I sort of forgot about it until this morning when I was trying to figure out what to wear to work. Something about looking in the closet made me think "Oh, crap! What am I going to wear tonight?"

I made it to work by 8am so I could get off at 4pm and hit the mall. OOHH, I just remembered! My tennis team gave me a gift certificate for the mall. How cool is that? Okay, off at 4pm, 30 minutes to get to the mall, one hour to find the perfect ensemble, half hour to get home, hour to shower and get ready. Show starts at 7pm. Crap, that doesn't work. Hmmmmm. That means drive fast shop fast! Hmmmmm. If I skip lunch I could leave earlier.....NAW...couldn't ever skip lunch! Dang!

Shoes? I probably need new shoes too! And a bag! Why do girls love to dress up?

EDITED POST--5PM--STILL AT WORK--HUSBAND SICK--CRAP!

This One's For My Dad

I know my Dad will probably never read this, but as it is almost Father's Day I have him on my mind. I know without a doubt I was given the best Dad in the universe. Never did a more unselfish man walk on this earth. My Dad turned 80 this year. Not a tremendous accomplishment in itself, many other men have turned 80 or more that is true. However, 10 years ago my Dad suffered a major heart attack. During surgery to put in a stent the Dr found that Dad had suffered a previous heart attack and because he didn't go to the hospital he had lost more that 40% of his heart. He also indicated he didn't think my Dad's condition was as bad as it was because Dad was conscious when the Dr. saw him in the Emergency room and after seeing the extent of the damage to his heart was surprised that he had been.

We all knew the reason that Dad didn't pass out was because he wouldn't ever want to do anything that would worry our Mom. A hero in her own right for winning a very tough battle with colon cancer.

My Dad quit school in the eighth grade, lied about his age so he could get a commercial drivers license and sent his money home to his family. Two years later he would be drafted into World War II because of that lie, as it appeared he was 18 but he was really only 16. When he went home and asked his dad to go with him to the draft board and explain that he really was only 16 his father wouldn't do it, telling him "That's what you get for lying." So he went to war.

He was on the front lines in Japan. He fought in muddy trenches. He saw friends blown apart. He caught malaria. He was just a boy. He doesn't talk about that experience much, but of the stories he will tell makes us realize that there were many horrors witnessed.

Dad was 23 when he married my Mom, just two days after she turned 16. This was 1950. They are still together. They are still in love. They still say "I love you" every night before turning off the lights and going to sleep.

I look at everything I have now, what I was able to provide my kids, all the luxuries. I think of my dad's family losing their farm in Oklahoma, driving west trying to reach other family in Oregon, but running out of money outside of Las Vegas in a small town called Searchlight. They found a cave to live in and his dad found work in a mine. In time they built a porch in front of the cave. His mom would sweep the dirt floors, it was their home for a long while. A cave.

My dad only has an eighth grade education. He impressed upon his four kids that education was so important. His older brothers all had college degrees. Dad was the baby and when the depression hit there wasn't the money to send him to school and so he quit to help support his family. He always felt like he was not as intelligent as his brothers or even us kids. He couldn't spell very well and was very self-conscious about that.

However, this same man built a brick house from the ground up. He did all the brick work. He put in all the plumbing. He did all the electrical work. He built the cabinets from scratch. He showed us how to ride a horse, how to feed it, take care of it, and all the responsibilities of having pets. We had horses, goats, rabbits, chickens, cats and dogs over the course of our childhood. He took care of all the maintenance on our cars from changing the oil to rebuilding the engines. He could figure out the angle of the trusses for a roof and the yardage needed in pouring concrete. He is smarter than anyone I know.

Dad's only concern has always been first for Mom and second for all of his kids. He always wanted us kids to have a new pair of shoes for school, because he remembered how embarassed he was going to school barefoot when his family couldn't afford them. He worked so we could live a better life, an easier life than he had. He went without many times so we didn't have to.

Dad took us camping and taught us how to fish and appreciate the great outdoors. He loves having his family around him. His greatest pride and joy is his kids and grandkids.

Dad is no longer the same strong hero that I have branded in my brain. The guy that could break a wild horse, build a house for his family, take virtually anything apart and put it back together again. His arms look weak and no longer show the strength of his many days of toil and hard labor. He is shorter by inches and walks slowly. His voice is soft and weak and sometimes I have to strain to hear him. But he always has a smile on his face, he still loves his kids and grandkid and great grandkids to be around him, and his still always says "I Love You", whenever we leave.

As with all of us, the days fly by, work and everything else seems to get in the way of taking the time out to stop by the house and see my parents. I know there aren't really too many days left to waste any chances to somehow pay back to this man all he has done in his life, for his family, for his friends.

I love you, Dad.

Always and Forever.

Dancin' Bears! What ???

Any Grateful Dead fan, or even if you are not a fan but any aging hippie from the 60's and 70's (worth their salt or pot) would know that the Dancin' Bears are just for FUN! One of several symbols of the Dead---the rose, skelton, VW Bus, bumper stickers (Picture Whirled Peas!) are some other things associated with that group.

"The dancing bears symbolized the fun-loving aspect of the Grateful Dead and their fans. Over the years these bears have appeared on multi-colored bumper stickers, T-Shirts and posters.

The origin of the bear was taken from the Bob Thomas album art cover (Bear's Choice). The back cover of History of the Grateful Dead, vol 1 (recorded Feb 13 and 14, 1970) showed multi-colored marching bears. Bob's inspiration for the bear came from a 36 point lead slug of a generic bear that was a standardized figure from a printer's font box."

So there you have it! Straight from the Grateful Dead fan site!

Showing My Age--Bus Dead!

I thought I wanted some cool decals for my new sunflower yellow Xterra. I came across this cool online site: http://www.purplemoon.com/Stickers/stickers.html




Lot's of peace signs, dancin' bears and other Grateful Dead standards.

This one I thought was way cool, called "Mother's Embrace."

I'm wondering if there is anyone in the audience that can relate to "Deadheads" and "Dancin' Bears?" If there are, Peace Out!