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Monthly Archives: April 2013

Am I the Only One?


English: Melissa Etheridge at a ceremony to re...

English: Melissa Etheridge at a ceremony to receive a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I read a tweet today just sparked a truth in me.  It resonated throughout my consciousness.   “Some songs invoke the inner stripper in you.” Boy, can I relate to that, and ill bet most of the men and women who come across this post will get it as well.  Think Chippendale or Gypsy.

No matter what I’m doing be it washing the floor, in the middle of an argument, or making a poignant and serious statement, I stop like I’ve been shot when one of those special songs begin.   I scramble for a dish towel, one always needs the appropriate prop, and begin my gyrations. Fortunately, I’m usually alone in the kitchen.

Doesn’t matter what I’m wearing,  sweats, jeans, shorts, or dress clothes, style of dress is irrelevant, the music starts and a seductive, talented, siren emerges, hard thumping to the beat. The dance, if you could call it that, clears my mind, and raises my mood to a healthy, joyful level.

There are several songs that can elicit this wild reaction from me, my favorite, the one with that primal beat,  is sung heartily by Melissa Etheridge, “I’m the only one.”  She did this sometime in the 90s and I’ve been a fan of it and her ever since the first I heard it on the radio.

Find this song and download on the music player of your choice. It’s better than a drink or a pill to lift your spirits.  Spread your legs, stick out your butt, grab the dishcloth, and slap out that beat on the floor while bumping your hips in time. I guarantee you, when Melissa is done belting out her song you’ll be laughing and your burdens will be eased for at least the rest of the day.

Happy dancing!

 
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Posted by on April 15, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Mirror Mirror


Even very young children perform rudimentary e...

Even very young children perform rudimentary experiments in order to learn about the world. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For most women mirrors are rarely a friend. We stare into them from the time we are children until we are very old.  We are seeking courage and the self-confidence to face the world.  Mirrors never tell the truth, they give us a two dimensional almost static image of what we look like and never shows who we are.  I say static, because although we are moving, we tend to pose.

A glance into the mirror can either make or break a day for an overwhelming number of women.  Catch that image in a super bright light and every pore is gigunta.  florescent lights give us that sickly green color that isn’t in this Spring.  And don’t get me started about profiles.  Is my nose really that long, head that flat?

Mirrors never draw our eyes to our best features, but rather to the areas we are self-conscious of, or always hated since we were twelve.  You twist in an awkward way to stare at your rear in the white skirt.  Can my butt really be that big?  How can it look any other way when you are in that position?  And if it is almost that big, so what?  Look what a butt did for J Lo and Beyoncé.

Aside from assuring us that we don’t have spinach between our teeth, mirrors do us few favors.  Sure we need them to apply makeup, comb our hair, and check for zits, but don’t let them define how you feel about yourself.

We already know we are not eighteen anymore, with a seamless face and naturally, shiny, hair.  The mirror needn’t confirm it.  Don’t define yourself by that mirror image.  Remember back when you were eighteen.  You weren’t ever happy with that reflection.   Its only years later when you see an old photograph that you realize how lovely you truly were.

After doing your daily ablutions, slapping on your lipstick or not, forget about what the mirror try to say to you.  We are so much more than that.  We are a smile, a kind gesture, a valid opinion and a bounce in our step.  We are Love, a Heart, a Soul.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful of all?          We are, of course.

 
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Posted by on April 12, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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My Little Black Capped Chickadee


Français cadien: Mésange à tête noire. Black-c...

Français cadien: Mésange à tête noire. Black-capped Chickadee. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Anyone living in the Northeast during the 2012/2013 Winter season is well aware that it has been a long cold spell.  While I enjoy the four seasons, this year tested my resolve never to move South from my beloved New York.

But suddenly, like it had never gone away, I woke up this morning to a cloudless, bright, sunshiny day.   Aah, the windows were thrown open, and I breath in a deep cleansing breath.  My first nod to Spring. The second was not to don socks to keep my tooties warm.  It was just too beautiful to stay indoors.  I slipped on open toed shoes and ran outside to the patio.  I even made it one step further, to the outdoor deck.

Fortunately, Jim and I had begun the seasonal cleanup while we still needed warm jackets and plenty of tissues for runny noses.  He got a lot done while avoiding cabin fever.  There isn’t very much work left to get ready for Spring and Summer.  While it is always lovely to be sitting in the fresh air you really don’t want to be relaxing amid last fall’s dried up leaves and broken flower pots.  We don’t like to see the dead stalks jutting from the earth.  They are the last remains of last year’s beautiful annuals.  Nope, its time to admire the daffodils, hyacinths and the blossoming yellow forsythia.

So while I had decided I would come out with a cup of coffee and sit with my face to the sun, I first had to remove the parsley from last years cracked pot with hopes that I wasn’t killing the herbs with my transfer to the new container.  You know, you are always taking that chance when repotting any plant.  I ran around seeking out a few damaged outside items, my running is a bit like a moderate walking pace, and tossed them in the trash with gay abandon.  A few more chores, and I was ready to break out the lounge chair and pay traditional homage to the sun.

I rolled up my pant legs,  pushed up my sleeves, and stretched out on that comfy lounge.  Warm April sun-kissed my face.  Truly love from an old friend.  It was wonderful.   Just as I began to drift off, another pal, the black-capped chickadee, tweeted me a song of Spring.  Welcome back for another year of a wonderful New York Season.

Janine Jansen, Vivaldi- The Four Seasons

Janine Jansen, Vivaldi- The Four Seasons (Photo credit: ychsiao)

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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