I occasionally read horoscope stuff for fun. I think that most horoscopes can apply to anyone at most anytime. However, what does the Chinese horoscope have against me this year?
Summary of the Yahoo link:
http://shine.yahoo.com/astrology/chinese/horse/yearly-overview/
The year - 4 so-so months and 8 bad months
Career - work even harder for no results???
Relationships - Be other-centered. The one time I am actually thinking about doing something for myself, and this stupid article tells me I am selfish. And "The single Horse may have trouble this year finding a meaningful, long lasting relationship." This year? Really? As opposed to every other year of my life?
Health - Bad due to stress. Well, at least that's the same as always. More sleep needed? Well, let's try to work that in. Sure.
Wealth - I'll be able to save some money this year, if I don't spend any. Great! Great advice. Very wise.
In summary, since I'll have no one to do anything with outside of work and all I'll be doing at home is sleeping, I'll have an extra dime next year.
Jeez, what does the Ox have against the Horse?
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Crazy like a circus?
You were in my dream.
I started out at a circus. I lost something and was searching for it. People were helping me look. I found it, and then I walked a long way. The circus and the walk were difficult, but I laughed a lot too. I ended up in with a bunch of people in this room. Everyone was talking and having a great time. I think it must have been a party. I can't remember everyone who was there, but you were there and so was your Dad. Questions were asked and answered. I don't remember what your Dad said, but I remember the way he said it. He was happy and healthy and sounded and looked so young and confident.
I'm sure that I dreamed this, because we connected this week and talked about our Dads and their birthdays.
Maybe it's just me that needed to dream this message, but I thought it couldn't hurt to share it with you. Maybe your Dad was trying to tell you something through my dream? Or maybe I just wanted to reach out and make sure you are okay?
Even though life is sometimes crazy and difficult, it is a wonderful thing. Your Dad was there in my dream. I hope you know that I am here for you.
I started out at a circus. I lost something and was searching for it. People were helping me look. I found it, and then I walked a long way. The circus and the walk were difficult, but I laughed a lot too. I ended up in with a bunch of people in this room. Everyone was talking and having a great time. I think it must have been a party. I can't remember everyone who was there, but you were there and so was your Dad. Questions were asked and answered. I don't remember what your Dad said, but I remember the way he said it. He was happy and healthy and sounded and looked so young and confident.
I'm sure that I dreamed this, because we connected this week and talked about our Dads and their birthdays.
Maybe it's just me that needed to dream this message, but I thought it couldn't hurt to share it with you. Maybe your Dad was trying to tell you something through my dream? Or maybe I just wanted to reach out and make sure you are okay?
Even though life is sometimes crazy and difficult, it is a wonderful thing. Your Dad was there in my dream. I hope you know that I am here for you.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
He's just not that into me - not a book or a movie, but a life
What if you could take the best of the most influential guys from your past, stir it up, and make a new man? An Iron Man. A Batman? A Superman! No...a Real Man! He's a compilation of at least 4 guys who have impacted you. Are you going to screw it up like you did before? Will he also vanish, vaporize, vamoose?
A boy from high school: a casual friendship that developed over time. Comfortable, safe, chaste. I was myself. We had classes together, but he was older, wiser, calmer. Funny, he made me laugh. When he wanted to move beyond friendship into a relationship, I didn't want to screw up the great friendship. I wasn't ready for more. I was scared. Time? Wait? He got mad and left.
A boy from college: an instantaneous feeling in my heart that warmed me. The moment I saw him walking toward me across Trinity Gardens, I knew that I would marry him. (Okay, you know who this one is, but I am keeping with the theme of anonymity.) My heart skipped a beat. We flirted. Funny, he made me laugh. We became friends and confidantes and dependent upon one another...secure in a future, in forever. An assumption. He lost respect for himself, and I lost respect for him when he stopped believing that I believed in him. He went to hell and left.
A man from work: unavailable at first, disinterested, but over time crush-worthy from afar. Funny, he made me laugh. Respect, his need for understanding and my compassionate ear and sage advice delivered. I should have been more wary, but we tried more for just about a minute. I wasn't ready. I was confused. He got hurt and left.
Another one from work: Exciting, spontaneous, energetic, hard working. Funny, he made me laugh. Knew me better than I knew myself. Could diffuse my anger at just the right time. Could talk me off the proverbial cliff. And then pushed me right over the edge. Too damaged and dysfunctional. He got cocky and left.
Some have wanted to come back. I thought about it. I still think about what might have...moving on. What if I could stir them all up in a pot, remove or revise the damaged parts, put all the good stuff together? I would have:
If I could add two more essential ingredients, they would be loyalty and commitment. (That narrows the field down to Dogs. Dogs don't leave unless they die, and you can't really hold that against them.) Let's dream though, and get back to the man...If such a man existed, he just wouldn't be that into me.
Would he? What if I was ready? What if I were scared, but he talked me through it? What if it were right and fun? He got me and stayed?
A boy from high school: a casual friendship that developed over time. Comfortable, safe, chaste. I was myself. We had classes together, but he was older, wiser, calmer. Funny, he made me laugh. When he wanted to move beyond friendship into a relationship, I didn't want to screw up the great friendship. I wasn't ready for more. I was scared. Time? Wait? He got mad and left.
A boy from college: an instantaneous feeling in my heart that warmed me. The moment I saw him walking toward me across Trinity Gardens, I knew that I would marry him. (Okay, you know who this one is, but I am keeping with the theme of anonymity.) My heart skipped a beat. We flirted. Funny, he made me laugh. We became friends and confidantes and dependent upon one another...secure in a future, in forever. An assumption. He lost respect for himself, and I lost respect for him when he stopped believing that I believed in him. He went to hell and left.
A man from work: unavailable at first, disinterested, but over time crush-worthy from afar. Funny, he made me laugh. Respect, his need for understanding and my compassionate ear and sage advice delivered. I should have been more wary, but we tried more for just about a minute. I wasn't ready. I was confused. He got hurt and left.
Another one from work: Exciting, spontaneous, energetic, hard working. Funny, he made me laugh. Knew me better than I knew myself. Could diffuse my anger at just the right time. Could talk me off the proverbial cliff. And then pushed me right over the edge. Too damaged and dysfunctional. He got cocky and left.
Some have wanted to come back. I thought about it. I still think about what might have...moving on. What if I could stir them all up in a pot, remove or revise the damaged parts, put all the good stuff together? I would have:
- someone with whom I could be myself - loud or quiet, glad, sad, mad, or smad.
- someone who made my heart beat faster the moment that I saw him and who would keep it beating that way - in a tie, without a tie, or halfway untied. (That went somewhere I hadn't planned.) A faster beat with just a look, a glance.
- someone who earned my respect and likewise respected me. If he makes a mistake, he says sorry, and eh, all is forgiven. No cover ups, no tangled webs.
- someone who could balance outrageous antics with tender feelings. Fun, yet snuggly.
If I could add two more essential ingredients, they would be loyalty and commitment. (That narrows the field down to Dogs. Dogs don't leave unless they die, and you can't really hold that against them.) Let's dream though, and get back to the man...If such a man existed, he just wouldn't be that into me.
Would he? What if I was ready? What if I were scared, but he talked me through it? What if it were right and fun? He got me and stayed?
Monday, January 5, 2009
Crying for a neighbor
Dale E. Cooley, 80, of Mason, died Nov. 14, 2008. He was born June 24, 1928 in Charlotte. Surviving are his wife of 53 years, Virginia, a son Warren, and other family members. I never knew that Dale worked at A & P for 42 years and served two years in the U.S. Army, one year of which was spent on the Korean Peninsula.
We think of the happy times - and all the beautiful flowers Dale used to enjoy growing. He was pleased to have Hannah come to the edge of the yard and tell him hi, and she always had a mini-chat. One time, she told Dale that she was "sixteen," and now Hannah is so grown up and has a nice young sister...
Every evening when Hannah and I pulled into our driveway, I glanced over to see Dale puttering in his garden. He really did grow pretty flowers, but even better he grew a good neighbor. I can see my 3-year-old Hannah bounce over to the fence to make curious, but polite conversation. He would explain about his garden, carving lessons out of nature.
Dale and Virginia from their observant posts knew that I was a practically single Mother and then a truly single one. They never judged or intruded, but they made me feel safe by their presence across the narrow drive and a split rail fence.
We were tolerant neighbors. We knew inherently that the others were doing the best that they could to be considerate. Dale "taught" us about the messy berry tree at the end of our driveway in a way that suggested it might be good to get rid of it, which we did. The way that he guided us is a lost art form in neighborhoods full of young up and comers. Today's neighbors would complain about the tree and take legal action.
Dale even liked my dog. He really did, and Tyler the dog liked him. (That says a lot about a man, not just that a dog liked him, but this dog in particular who at times sided with his mistress and not his master.) Dale would reach down over the fence and pet Tyler while he would continue his chat with Hannah. Not once did Tyler snap at him.
If I close my eyes, I can see Dale over that backyard fence lined with chicken wire to keep the critters out, leaning on his rake, wiping his brow with a handkerchief pulled from his pocket, with his wheel barrow in front of him, smiling as Hannah bounds over for her evening greeting.
When I opened Virginia's letter, I cried.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Taming of the Shrew-Mother
Right this second, I am listening to my 14-year-old daughter on the phone. With. A. Boy.
She's calm, cool, collected. She's sweet, yet sincere. She didn't break out in hives and jump up and down, giddy with terrified excitement.
She talked to this boy for more than 5 minutes...maybe even 10 whole minutes! From whom did she learn this talking-to-a-boy skill? Certainly not me. I can't think of things to say for longer than a minute or two. Men shrink away from conversations with me. I'm elephant-headed, spiritual and religious, and a Mom. Most men are liberal, naturalist/spiritualist, hoochy-boys. What would we say to one another?
Of course, before the boy called my daughter, she was trying to figure out what she would say to him when he did call her back. They've been talking for a couple of weeks now. And they have a movie-thing planned for a near-future Friday.
Should I just let this Lucentio-boy wisk away my Bianca-daughter? How do I stand idly by? Should I get her to a nunnery? Should I allow this movie-going? Should I drive her and her friend? Should I let another Mother drive them and show up at the same theater and sit behind them?
What do I do if she sees this boy for a long time? And what will I do when it doesn't work out? Forget about that baby manual that comes out at birth. Where, oh where, is the adolescent enchiridion, the minor manual, or even a juvenile journal? Should I lock her in the hay mow? Perhaps, I should, at least until my Petruchio shows up!
She's calm, cool, collected. She's sweet, yet sincere. She didn't break out in hives and jump up and down, giddy with terrified excitement.
She talked to this boy for more than 5 minutes...maybe even 10 whole minutes! From whom did she learn this talking-to-a-boy skill? Certainly not me. I can't think of things to say for longer than a minute or two. Men shrink away from conversations with me. I'm elephant-headed, spiritual and religious, and a Mom. Most men are liberal, naturalist/spiritualist, hoochy-boys. What would we say to one another?
Of course, before the boy called my daughter, she was trying to figure out what she would say to him when he did call her back. They've been talking for a couple of weeks now. And they have a movie-thing planned for a near-future Friday.
Should I just let this Lucentio-boy wisk away my Bianca-daughter? How do I stand idly by? Should I get her to a nunnery? Should I allow this movie-going? Should I drive her and her friend? Should I let another Mother drive them and show up at the same theater and sit behind them?
What do I do if she sees this boy for a long time? And what will I do when it doesn't work out? Forget about that baby manual that comes out at birth. Where, oh where, is the adolescent enchiridion, the minor manual, or even a juvenile journal? Should I lock her in the hay mow? Perhaps, I should, at least until my Petruchio shows up!
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