YOU make the call: Creepy husband behavior, er no?

My life is getting in the way of my blogging. I apologize for the dead fish Wil.

So! Let's begin today's post!

I see human intelligence like a multi-tiered cake. (four tiers). Each tier has a ratio of people to level of intelligence. With each ascending layer, there are fewer people but more intelligence.

In the bottom layer, there is a multitude, nay, a critical mass of yokels, God's special people and Brett Favre. The next layer contains college graduates and owners of small successful businesses. The top layers include Einstein and the Steven Hawkins types. mmmhhhhhmmmm caaakkkeee......



On a good day, when I am rested, and the kids have not busted my brain to bits, I am in the third layer. Most days however, I am the second layer, near the top. Which is good. I don't want to be in the forth layer. Ever.

That being said, with a bit more intelligence that a yokel, yet not on the Einstein level, I lack a large amount of social judgement.

Basically I have a hard time figuring out what is normal and what is just odd.

CASE IN POINT:

Whilst looking through the photos on my husband's cell, I found a few of me. Only- I wasn't aware he had taken them. They were shots of me, um, well, there were naughty shots. Shots of cleavage, shots of me bending over, shots of my tush . .

They were taken while we were out and about with the kids. Whilst wearing my white latex dress.

Just kidding there folks. That's not my kid.

They were funny because I am so oblivious. I had no idea he had taken them. And there were only a few. Not like reams and reams or anything. But, they are undeniably naughty.



It's weird to think my husband takes peeping tom shots of me. He hasn't hidden them, I mean, he knows I look through his cell phone photos and could have easily hidden them from me. So!

YOU MAKE THE CALL!





Is this creepy husband behavior, er no?

Leave your call in the comments :)


Next on YOU make the call: Is this video sexist, er no?

What I will miss cable when I move. I will miss the stream of super family shows the most.

One of the superfamilies shows, is called 18 and counting. This would be the Duggar family. They have 18 kids. They had them one at a time and support themselves via rental properties, farming and living within a church community. It works, their system.

Note the ankle length denim skirts, NOTE THEM!!

This show, it calls to me. I see a lot of our family in their family. There is a loving husband and wife, their life is focused on the kids, they are relaxed and self-sustaining. They have 'conservative' values. They have a life focused on God.

It all looks very nice, warm and inviting. And I follow along with them, on their journeys, via the LCD screen. They look like very happy people, all sorts of squishy family love.

This positive experience is always interrupted though. It's those damn ankle length denim skirts the women wear. Like a fly caught in a window pane, buzzing spasmodically-but not dying. THAT is what those skirts feel like, to me.

This garment is part of their religion. I think there is a passage in the bible somewhere that says women shall not use the clothing of men. Or, women should dress like women and men like men. This is why most of your fundamental Christian women wear the long, ankle length denim skirts. And white anklet socks. And white keds.

It irritates me to no end. I can fly into a psychotic rage if I linger too long with my thoughts on the matter.

Ya see, to truly live the life they lead, to truly dissolve yourself in the culture and faith of their community, I would have to omit certain areas of my life. Truly, I understand where they are coming from, why they shun modern society. There is a lot of disagreeableness out there. All sorts of sin and in congruency with what they value, what I value. This is why they shun movies with violence and sexual content. Why nekkid nekkid is reserved for the marital bedroom. That is not to say they look with shame onto sex or love.

In fact, they have very healthy way of understanding sex and love. There was one episode, when their oldest son got married, where the father gave him some absolutely wonderful advice about sex. He basically said women need nurturing, they need to be cared for, throughout the day, to feel loving. Communication is so important, women need to talk about things and include details most men find unnecessary. But the husband needs to listen, to show her his love.

Men are much different, he said. Men basically have on and off switches. It is up to the man to slow down, understand the wife's needs and support her. Then he gave him a DVD/Book that outlined the practicalities of sex, the importance of touching, looking and exploring their sexual bodies. Mex is wonderful and a gift to each other, as husband and wife. A gift from God.

Husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Hall, on their honeymoon

Of all the sex talks I've heard about, this was by far the most moving, the most valuable for that young man. And he was very young, eighteen in fact. His bride was also eighteen. And this is where it gets complicated. They, the kids, were not only virgins, but they had never actually kissed each other.

Whoa.

The thing is, is that some of what their life is about, is very true. For me anyway. There is so much joy to be had when you strip your life of peripheral influences. There is so much out there to distract and numb ourselves. For example- the 800 cable channels my parents have. All of it pretty much useless. And heavy on my senses. I will be glad when it is gone. I also shun most modern devices and gadgets. Not because I don't want them, but they numb my brain.

Yet as I walk through this life, focused on my family, focused on a greater purpose, I still value some of the evil out there.

Like art in all it's forms. Women centered art is the best. I can't help but truly enjoy a good Playboy or indie art project celebrating the beauty of women. These women, for the most part, are smiling, happy enjoying themselves. This is women folks, beautiful and enthusiastic and not wearing any clothes. So how do I reconcile all of this? Being drawn toward a pious life yet appreciating such sin?

The other Holly in her swan song pictorial

Here's the thing, being aware and in tune with high concepts such as spirituality, religion, morals, all of this is based on the duality of existence. If you recognize good, you recognize evil. However, it is impossible to ever separate one from the other. EVER. Good and evil are inexorably tied to one another there is no separation. No versus, just channeling the different energies.

And so, basing one's life on exclusion or omission of all that is evil is to deny life. So by all means, let me know God's love, feel the good word, raise my family focused on the greater. And let me see God's beauty. Let it calm and inspire me to share the happy and joy it makes me feel.

It's all part something greater than me. Something that I am not separate from but thriving in. It's all good, all solidifying, all reinforcing the joy I feel while being who I am.

Sadly, no matter what, I will never ever understand or accept ankle length denim skirts. Dear Lord, no. No no no. This will be my sin.

Now go forth and sin no more good people!

Holly has left the building

This month's Playboy acknowledges the changes that have occurred with Mr. Hefner and his trio of girlfriends. It is an unmistakable goodbye to Ms. Holly Madison.

I saw a recent piece on Ms. Christie Hefner, Hef's daughter on CBS Sunday morning. She is an interesting woman. Whenever I see or read about her I am impressed with the Playboy organization and how vast it is. I am impressed of how she is continuing her father's vision. In Las Vegas, there is a giant hotel/ casino that carries the Playboy name. There is all manner of merchandise too. And while the depth and breadth of the Playboy enterprise is not as it once was, it still appears mighty. All of this sprouted from one very creative and clever man who started out as a cartoonist. He built the magazine from nothing.

It is now fifty five years old, the magazine. As such, the editors decided to change the format a bit. The layout is a bit more modern, more color, less structure. It is by and large a very heady magazine. There are impressive essays about all manner of things including politics, the current war in Iraq, and sex in our modern society. There was a recent essay on the use of the word 'fag' and what that means in today's society. Any in-depth discussion of language is something that appeals to me.

None of this would be noticed, at least not these days, without the girls. The girls are central to the purpose and meaning of the magazine. It is rather simple yet brilliant idea, photographing women without their clothes. Yet, like most things, it is only as powerful as the people involved. There is great care put into the girls and the photographer's art.

Mr. Hall and I have discussions about the girls photographed, about the lighting, the poses, the make up and set designs. I have always found the pictures to be soft yet potent. I have always found the women to be posed in an evocative yet natural way. Some of the celebrity layouts are lacking, but then again, it takes a certain amount of talent to be a nude model. Comfort in one's skin and the ability to let her own sparkle shine through.

Of all of the things I read, the magazine is something I look forward to each month. It is a relaxing exercise to review the photos and puts me in a sensual headspace. The essays and articles get me all fired up, sending my thinking into overdrive. A good read indeed.

That being said, this month's photos of Ms. Holly Madison just about destroyed me. She is photographed this month like she has never been photographed. They are truly amazing. I can say that in one of the photos, she laying on her back, heaps of platinum blond curls, ruby slippers, a blue checkered dress resting under the slippers, her skin milky stark. This photo stopped my breath and made my heart ache. She really did love Hef and her life at the mansion. She wanted to be his wife, have his babies. This was her home for seven years, that was house, and that was her man, her world.

However, it must have been a bit like Kansas, a small world onto itself. In the end though, she needed to leave, to seek her own way, to follow the yellow brick road and see where it goes.

Salad days of yore

First day of my new job went well. Well, it was 8 hours a sitting through orientation. Power point, power point, power point . . . . two more days like this. Man o man!

Can't complain though, no longer will I have drive, drive, drive. No more home health. No more flicking roaches off my red back pack.

This looks to be a thin week in terms of blogging. In fact, I may have to slow the train a bit overall. At my new job, I will be responsible for all sorts of things. No more blogging on company time. After all, I don't have the company laptop anymore.

People come to me now. They come to see me and I will charge them. I am thusly responsible for 'production numbers' aka seeing a certain amount of patients in my office each day. They and their insurance company will get their monies worth!

I can't wait to see my office. (squeek!)

But, what I will lack in quantity of posts, I hope to make up for in quality (I hope anyway). The salad days of slacking at will are over. ;)

So for, let's entertain ourselves with this little ditty. And remember the salad days of Miss Holly Madison.

:)



RRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVEERRRRR!!!!!!!

NOO! SAY IT AIN'T SO HOLLY!!!

Holly and Hugh Hefner have broken up.

So it has come to this. This woman over there, Miss Holly Madison, is not getting her man. Not getting the Princess Wedding at the Disney Castle. And not birthin' no baby bunnies.

It is upsetting. I was so rooting for this doll of a woman. Read this post for why.

It is very, very upsetting. I liked Holly. Girl's Next Door was the last cable show I watched before my cable disappeared. I watched it and discussed the girls at some length with Mr. Hall, started to think about buying their booble head dolls and their perfume . . . . maybe that is why Mr. Hall took the cable away.

This is what this is really about, this fascination with Miss Holly. It all comes down to Mr. Hall.

Ya see, when I was in nursing school, the man who would be my husband moved to the tiny, oh so tiny town I lived in. It consisted of one, highly ranked college and a redneck bar on every corner. He said to me then, and says to me now, "Babe, if you ever wonder if I love you, remember where I moved for you."

He was passive aggressive against the town. He wouldn't learn his way around the town. Although, that was a ruse, I mean, it only had like three main streets. He wouldn't get a job. He basically just studied his microsoft manuals and took care of me. Another thing he wouldn't do is ask me to marry him.

We had discussed marriage. We decided to marry. We wanted three kids. I had gone to http://www.adiamondisforever.com/ , designed a ring and emailed it to him. But he wanted to make sure it was right. "Babe, I will only do this once."

So there he was, no job, no asking him to marry me. The family was really great about it. Well, not really. But if it was my daughter I don't think I could have held my tongue. I don't think I ever told them he paid for the rent and for groceries. He was technically supporting me. But, even though he was this and crazy monkey love, there was no ring.

And the day before the day before I graduated I sort of had a meltdown. It was in the month of May, about two years into the relationship. It had become unbearable to me, just living with him. We loved each other so much. I wanted to be Mrs. Hall. Our future was stalled. Unable to start. I remember weeping and sobbing. Choking out the words, "You have to decide, either ask me by the end of the summer or that's it. I want to start our life."

The next night, the night before I graduated, we went out to dinner. He asked, "Where is a nice resturant around here?" (Again, he refused to learn the town.) I drove to the Olive Garden but he kind of freaked out when we got there. "Babe, no, no, this is not a nice resturant!" We drove about an hour out of town. This place was so fancy, I had never been there.

During the dinner he handed me a letter. It was my proposal in three typed paragraphs. The last line was, "Will you be my wife?"

You could have picked my up off the floor. Here is the ring.

He designed it himself. In fact, for the previous four months, he had been designing the ring, choosing the diamonds and working with the jeweler on every detail. Did I tell you he was an engineer? He was crafty, that man of mine. Four months of going to a jewelery store, working every detail to his satisfaction. I had no idea. Clueless was I. And then I found out I was actually with him when he bought the ring. He is lucky he has a such a distractable wife.

In the end, I feel for Holly. Even though I really believe she loved Hef, it would have been a bad idea to marry him and have babies. In this crazy mess, I belief Hef was the voice of reason.

Hef says, "She'd like to be married and have children, but it's not in the cards here for me. There has to be some reality there."





Le sigh





At least she'll have the photos...




WAIT A MINUTE... She is blonde, has a very nice boobin' and my GOD! She is only four years younger than me. And isn't Hef like 82?

Ok, that's it!

Go forth Dear Holly, you'll be just fine.

Holly, hmm, that's a good name no?

Never saw it coming.

Things I never saw coming:

1. That my post on the frosty fan would bring forth so many comments.


2.




No, really! I thought he was just one of those asexual people.


3. That the girls next door would ever be in peril.





4. That my job offer would fall through.

I had signed a contract to work as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner on July 15th 2008. The contract was through a contracting agency. They worked with the health care organization I was going to work for. So, I signed a contract with an agency to work for the health care organization who needed a Psych NP.

Ya'll following? I need to shorten this story in order to explain it to the many people who will ask me what happened. Any suggestions would be much appreciated.

And on July 15th I signed said contract. There were conditions. I had to pass my certification exam. Did that. But then things were stalled for so long. I should have known something was up. After all, it is more than two months later, and I am still not working there. And I never did get a start date.

I found out why yesterday. In addition to my certification, I needed experience. I am a brand-spanking new Psyche-NP. I have only clinical rotation/intern experience. The health care organization had assured my contracting agency, in writing, that my clinical rotation experience would count.

Turns out, that was wrong. So whomever was at the helm never could have offered me the job in the first place.

And we have been packing and planning to move The Family Hall two hours away for two months. And waiting on pins and needles. Just waiting. A three minute phone call changed everything.

Which is ok I guess. I am still in shock though. I am surprisingly ok with it. I am not really freaking out. Although I am sure that is coming. Denial is not just a river in . . .

Overall, I feel relief. I can now be vigilant and lioness as I stalk my new prey. I mean job. I am an awesome nurse. Even better Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner.


HEAR ME ROAR!