I broke the law twice yesterday (on accident)

Really NOT MY FAULT!!

Twice I was unpacking my goods, loading the car when I noticed items in the lower part of the cart.

Really, not my fault, I'm just a space case!

Totally forgot about the items.

And no, I didn't go back . . . mmmwwhaa HAAAA HAAA!!!

Cause you see, I'm not a grown up yet.


Have a Happy Sunday All!!!

NOW get out there and cause some trouble!!

In Praise of Chihuahuas and Honeywine

Hello All! How was your turkey day?

My little SIL, who's such a cutie herself, has two chihuahuas. They aren't purebreds so they lack that ridiculous shaking thing that pure chihuahuas do. We went to the dog park and they were so adorable, zipping around, chasing each other. Nipping at each other's heels. Barking like crazy at the big dogs.

Sigh. There were a few dogs there that were big. They came upon me all humungo doggy like. Leaned into my legs. They were rotties. Big, black rottweilers. I found myself weeping a bit. I miss my Henry. I didn't realize that going to the dog park would unfurl such feelings. So I petted them and leaned back while the tiny chihuahuas went all spastic crazy. Yippily barking while the big dogs stood silent, taking it all in.

hold on, gonna cry a bit here. I love Henry. Even though he's passed on, my love remains. As we unpack all our stuff I find bits and pieces of him. Stray collars, his winter dog bed, a leash I tried out. Then there is his huge kennel that we never really needed. We'll put it on Craig's list soon. hold on . . . I'm having hard time here, give me a minute.

sigh . . wiping a few tears . . big deep, cleansing breath, and ok, that's better . . i'm ok now . . ;)



Let's turn this around eh?

So the tiny dogs were fun. Just the right size for my kids to chase, pet and get lovins from. They practiced being gentle and petting softly. Mac kept trying to get them to play trains with him. He would hold up a wooden caboose and say, "Here puppy, you chew on this." Or he would say, "You can push it with your tail!" Watching him warm to the dogs was awesome.

The wee doggies really helped me yesterday. It was a wonderful Thanksgiving with lots of merriment. And honey wine. Good lord! Whoever put together honey with wine is a genius. One of the guests yesterday was from Ethopia. So really, the honeywine was from Ethopia. It was like nectar. Nectar from the Gods!



It was so good, I wasn't really paying attention and had three glasses. I am a lightweight. It was nice being sauced. But, then it was 9.30 and I was still tipsy. And I still had to drive two hours to get home. So I didn't.

I slept on my SIL's floor with the puppies. The chihuahuas were aggressive snugglers. I like to sleep on my right side, spooning a body pillow. They snuggled in the crook behind my knees. It was so comforting having them there, enjoying the doggy love. Enjoying the massive healing powers from such tiny pups.

Make no mistake. Dog is God's definition of love.


This is Henry by the way. With my daughter Pancake.



So now, if you'll excuse me. I got up at 5.30 am this morning and drove 2.5 hours to get to work. Time to act like I am well rested and intelligent ;)

Take care all and have a good weekend ;)

Have a Happy Thanksgiving All!

*

May your day be filled with relatives and food.

And booze. Lots and lots of booze.

;)

TAKE CARE ALL AND HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!


*taken from the fine folks at "Awkwardfamilyphotos.com"

Mr. and Mrs. Hall discuss adding a second or third wife (repost for your enjoyment)

Mo love, Mo problems

During all the packing, sorting and tossing during these last few days, HBO's "Big Love" was playing in the background. This show is about polygamy or plural marriage. One man, Bill Paxton, is married to three wives ((L-R) Barb-first wife, Nikki-second wife, Margene-third wife). They all live this life, forming a family, calling this life "living the principle".

On the drive back, as I am wont to do, I took a mental trip down another path for the Hall Marriage. One that included adding a second and third wife to our family. I used the conflicts and plotlines from Big Love as an outline for my thoughts. It is a three hour drive. Lots of time to wax poetic. Mr. Hall always leans in while I talk. It is very sweet and tender.

First, in order for a plural marriage to survive, all parties must be willing to sacrifice their own personal needs for the greater good. There must be religion involved. It doesn't matter how much you believe in any alternative lifestyle, if you don't have an almighty God directing you, then you don't have sustainable motivation. Polygamy takes fortitude and renewable motivational. Without religion, the marriages will fail. Therefore, in order for us to become polygamous, we would have to step up our Christianity from interested and happy to obsessional and delirious.

Also, I believe, we would need to create a self sustaining family. I have read a lot on polygamous clans and the best ones, the ones that last, live off the land and are an agricultural society. I could do this, become a farmer's wife. Maybe. In the HBO show however, they are all supported by the husband's job. This is no good, it could come crashing down all around him and the family would be left bereft.

Second on the list, the husband must be of supreme quality. He must be unrelenting in his kindness, energy and devotion towards his wives. If the marriages are to thrive and grow, he must grow with each wife according to their needs. He must also be a facilitator and leader within the family as he will no doubt, be in charge of the lot. Well, in co-charge with the first wife.

The first wife is essential to success. She will be seen as the leader of the wives more so than the husband in a lot of ways. Again, I have read a lot about polygamous marriages and frankly, the husband often seems secondary to the every day needs of the wives. After all, the demands on him (making money, servicing other wives, actively directing a church of some sort) eats up his time. Hence the term of 'sister-wives'. The wives have their own family, a sub family of sapphic support.

This is why the first wife is so important. Most wives, in a single marriage, direct the various day to day doings of family life. They handle the organization of the family in terms of child care needs, organizing meals, cleaning of the house, negotiating the emotional needs of each family member, booking medical appointments et cetera. The first wife must be a proficient family manager, after all, with a second and third wife and their children, she manages them as well.

This is a lot of people to be organize.

I can say, it looks exceedingly difficult, living in a plural marriage. But I believe that Mr. Hall would be an excellent husband for such an arrangement. He was brought up a single mom who worked a lot and was basically in charge of two high maintenance sisters. Plus, he is a little bit older than me. He has as keen sense of women and how they operate. He also has a deft way of negotiating and supplying any needs they might have.

The first wife in the show, Barb, seems to be doing well. She could care take a little more but, meh.

First wife, very pretty curly hair, just like me

I would be an excellent first wife. Now that I have been married for about eight years, I have learned how to temper my emotional needs, how to smooth out sleep deprived feelings. I have learned how to respond and organize the needs of the entire household and create a warm and thriving family. I am a fully functioning partner in our success.

I would also be an excellent resource while choosing the second and third wife. I would have never picked, Nikki, as second wife. She is a spoiled prairie doll, unable to communicate her needs in a healthy way. Always scheming and manipulating. Not only is she not second wife material, but she is not any wife material.

Who in the hell picked her as second wife? I mean come on!

She would pose a problem for me, as a first wife. She is in her early thirties, same age as me. I would need ten years yet before I could handle the all the ages of the younger wives. The third wife from big love, Margene , SHE would be no problem whatsoever. But, yes, this type of arrangement would have to wait ten years, for me to be mature enough.

Margene is a doll

This is when, for the first time, Mr. Hall pipes up.

"TEN YEARS!! You realize I will be 50 years old at that point right?!, There's no way that would be a good thing, adding another wife and kids to the family."

By golly he's right. And really, there is absolutely no need for to complicate things with extra wives and children in this family.

I mean jeez, one wife is enough for everyone!!!

So that ends another side trip in the mental journey of Mrs. Hall :)

Chances are . . . .

Tonight I bought the test that can tell me, in about two weeks, if or if not. Or...I could just wait until my body tells me. Because it always does.

Either way, two things are true. When Mr. Hall calls on the phone in the middle of the day, or enters a room, I do indeed get a silly grin.

And this song was piping through Walgreens while I was making my purchase. Clear as day. I don't remember ever hearing it but, oh my goodness what a song.

Here, take your time, relax a bit. And take a listen.



Take care everyone . . . .

Your so hot, you're making me sexist (repost sorta)

• Last night I was thinking about the first date of Mr. Hall and I. It did not go well. I had brought a friend to hang out with. I had two screwdrivers and totally won a game of monopoly. Mr. Hall was cranky but silent about it (the friend not the losing). I was going to nursing school and living in a single dorm. Meaning I had no roommate. But Mr. Hall left that night with a kiss on my cheek. He did not stay. There was a raging blizzard but he left. Not because he was mad, but because he was a gentle man who didn't make out with drunk girls.
  
  
• Then I thought of our first apartment. How we didn't even have a can opener between the two of us. How he cared for me in the last year of nursing school. He was the best boyfriend in the world. Changed the cat box even. Still does.
  
  
• Then I thought of our second apartment. We were married by then. We put up a tent in our room. He used a copper pipe frame to hang all manner of red and green cloth material. It really hushed the room, made it all sensual.

All of this I was thinking last night, as we were lounging in front of the fireplace. The kids were asleep. . . . .

I've never had such a fire place as ours. It is dark brown and stout. We were so warm. It was awesome.

I love my boom king. ;)

Have a good weekend everyone. Take care of you and yours ;)

Me vs. Mary the Secretary: Office Smackdown

For the first installment of Mary the Secretary, click here. Mary is the 50ish, plump secretary at my work.

Before we begin, I must say that I've been in multiple levels of employ. Bottom, middle and now, in command. I have a delicate understanding of the various power structures. And within each level I have thrived, because I embrace my power, no matter where I am standing.





What we are talking about here, between Mary and I, is power. A simple power struggle. Mary feels powerless and thus attempts to be my caretaker, my smother secretary. That way, she can have power over me. To which I say: good luck chick-a-dee.



It began last week with the two phone calls. And when I showed on Monday, she had re-arranged my office. Moved the chair, adjusted the monitor. She had given me three notebooks to take notes, plus two stacks of post its. All of it sitting there, squatting on my chair. She had made coffee and on and on. I shut the door. Took a deep breath.

I scooped up the notebooks and brought them to her. I firmly placed them next to her key board, as she was typing. I said, "Oh, I don't need these to take notes. Thanks though. Can you print out my list of patients today? Thanks." And cue smile.



Later at lunch . . . Mary occupied the room with stories from her personal life.

AN YAH DER HEY, SHO' NUFF, Mary has been in an abusive/codependant relationship. Told you so. And she felt the need to go on and fucking on about it during lunch. Cause girl's got issues but no dignity. I mean come on Mary, trying to eat my sub sammich here.

Mary thrives in chaos. Nothing else is comfortable. I am not comfortable with chaos. I like calm. I like balmy beaches and butterflies and the colors red and purple. I listen to people's chaos all day. They open up vast treasure troves of psychic pain. I help them heal. This is my job and I love it. So no, I don't want to eat lunch with her pain. Nor do I want a side dish of her spastic life.

Life is hard enough. I like to make mine easier at every turn possible. So here is the coup de gras that put Mary in her place.



Around one oclock that day, Mary had to unexpectedly leave. Her daughter WHO IS MY AGE THAT BEING 33 is sick. Again, her daughter is a fully functioning adult. Yet her Mom is running to her. Mary looks at me. She starts to explain who and what is ailing her daughter. AGAIN, MARY'S DAUGHTER IS MY AGE THAT BEING 33. Mary is breathless and getting a bit wild eyed. I stop listening. Then I blink a few times, still not listening to what sounds like the flu bug.

blink.....



blink ......


Then I say, "Mary. Can you fax these before you go? And connect me with the maintenance guy, the temp in my office is freezing. Thanks. And I hope your daughter feels better." I say it just like that.

Mary looks stricken. Hurt even. Which is my intent. And by the way, I never, and I mean NEVER, tell people to fax things for me. Nor do I have someone patched through to my office. But I did this time. And I don't feel bad about it.

Because sometimes, the best lessons are learned through struggle, through hurt and strife. That day, Mary learned I won't tolerate the impressing her drama on my person. Because we are all grown ups at that office. Not little kids. Little kids go around, showing their boo-boos. Eventually we all learn to suffer with dignity. Then we learn how to not suffer at all.

And not ruin lunch with wild tales of an asshole ex husband. And not draw the pity of fellow coworkers.

Can't we talk about the movies we like? Or shows we love? Like Mad Men for example. Gawd I love that show. The smoking, the drinking, the debachery. And lord help me, those clothes. Those dresses, those kitten heels . . . oh lawd . . . the clothes on that show.... I get the vapors just watching.




So in the end, the battle was won. And maybe now, we can get down to business. Which is sharing office space. All while serving the greater good, to serve others. And there is no greater service than the service of others.



Now, if I could just get Mary to keep something else in her drawer for me. Something much more useful than post-its . . . ;)