YES (Lost in translation)

It's kind of funny how words and thoughts change in the short distance between the brain and mouth. It's like magic. I hear a question. I process it and speak. Then, even as the words are forming, they become what everyone wants to hear rather than what I really feel.
Self-censorship, keeping the peace for centuries. 
I wouldn't know how to act around someone who really wanted to know~

Hurricane Iselle, (or Want some avocados?)

Hurricane Iselle steamed past the island, showering me with a little bit of rain blown around by a little bit of wind. We prepared for the worst. 
And the worst was....?
The worst was that we harvested the avocado tree so we wouldn't lose the fruit to the cyclone, and now we have approximately 100 avocados of various sizes and ripeness laying around the house, and yard, and deck.
I fear people will start avoiding us because we keep trying to pawn avocados off on to them. 
Looks like I'll be making a bunch of guacamole. 

Monday Funday. (or "Bartender, one more round!")

I almost got hit by a car today. Ironically that would not have been the worst thing that happened to me today. I'm not trying to play the victim here. Life happens, and I've been playing the game for almost 54 years. I just thought it would get easier with time.
Nope, it still hurts like hell.

BLEH~ (or What the hell is the matter THIS time?)

I've been feeling unusually weepy lately. I don't know why. Maybe it's hormonal. Maybe it's because I am slowly exsanguinating during one of my last indignities of womanhood.
It is an empty feeling. All wound up and no release. The anti-climax. The ultimate let down.
The nothingness~
Perhaps stabbing a raw steak will make me feel better.
😕

MAIL CALL

I just got a letter from my daughter. Not an email, or a text message. Not a private message online but a real pen and paper, stamp on the envelope, air mail USPS letter!
I had forgotten how good ink on paper smells.
Totally made my weekend!

A Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Waste. (Or Bored)

I have way too much time on my hands and way too little motivation.
That is a dangerous combination. My mind must find ways to entertain itself.
Enter, my imagination.
Imagination, left to its own devices, can be a wonderful thing.
Or not.
There is just no knowing, until it's too late.

Because someone asked. (But you don't really want to know)

No, life isn't always fun and I do not laugh at everything.

I laugh because it does no good to cry.

I am not optimistic.

I just refuse to be over come by the darkness.

I am not inspirational.

I am weak and desperate, but willing to try anything to fix things.

I am not a good person.

I am the product of consequences.

And I am bitter because not all of the choices were mine.

I cannot change. I can only keep moving forward,

And hope that one day I can be the person other people see in me.

For now it is just a mask, an echo.

No, this is not me, and life is not fun at all.

THE LIFE OF LEISURE, or Will something hurry up and happen?

I've been back for almost 2 months now and I find myself stagnating in the same rut I was in before.  So much is simmering in the background but nothing worth bringing to the table yet.  My non-existent patience is being put through a serious test, and I may be failing.
One day this will all make sense.
I'll still be quite daft, but perhaps folks will understand better why.
I hate that people look at me and see a weak person.  They don't know how hard it is to be this way. They see a person without ambition but I have stayed the course above all else.
In the meantime I find myself staring at a bottle of rum on a regular basis.  That it has lasted this long is a testament to my willpower, feeble as it may be.  What matters most is that it is stronger than my patience at this point.  That may not always be the case.
One day I will tell my story.  I will shout it out to anyone who will listen.  I will set the record straight, even if just in the form of an epitaph.  The truth will be known.
But not tonight.
Tonight I think my willpower will take a back seat.

WHEN I GROW UP or What the hell happened?

Looking back to my childhood, I clearly remember people telling me "You can be anything you want to be when you grow up."  Those words were inspiring and motivating.
Yet here I sit now and I am pretty sure that at no time did I ever express the desire to be a fat old lady when I grew up!
Time to regroup~

Cleanse, because diarrhea is such an ugly word.

I've been reading up on break-thru miracle diets from time to time, just to motivate myself to finally losing all this extra poundage once and for all.  The latest is, of course, the cleanse.  It sounds good in theory, but then when you put all their fancy adjectives through a reality filter, what they're saying is a clear as day.
Diarrhea.
They want you to take their product (pills, drinks, elixir), which will give you the runs, and then you will 'flush' (their word, not mine) those pounds away.
Look... I've been sick before.  I've had those wonderful, highly contagious gastrointestinal bugs that leave a tender seat sore on your bum from frequent visits to the loo.  And yes, I have lost weight very quickly during that time, but it is somewhat painful, very inconvenient and highly embarrassing.
Why on earth would I bring that upon myself voluntarily?
And of course those pounds just work their way back on once you start feeling better and you exports solidify.
So while I agree with the theory behind their miracle weight loss program, I think I will pass. 
If I had known that it would be so hard to get the weight off, I never would have let myself indulge in all those extra calories all those years.
Yeah right!
Just show me a weight loss program where I don't have to exercise, don't have to starve, don't have to eat expensive tasteless vegetables and don't have to spend my days and nights sitting on the toilet. 
Sign me up, I'm in!

Alzheimer's meets Old Timer's

Mama has Alzheimer's Disease.  She suffers from short term memory loss.  In other words, she can do something, step away for a moment and when she turns back a mere minute later she will probably have forgotten completely about what she had just done.  She and my dad now enjoy a Hobbit's meal routine of first and second breakfasts, followed closely by first and second lunches, a snack or two, dinner and supper and then they finish off the day with a midnight snack, or two... or three.
I also suffer from memory loss, but mine is due to Old Timers Disease.  Or maybe it is a syndrome.  Lets see, a disease is an ailment or condition with a known cause.  A syndrome is is a condition or symptoms with no known cause. Well, I know the cause, it's 'cause I'm old!  My brain has been figuring and conniving for precisely 19,509 days... not including the days spent trying to figure out how to get out of my Mama's uterus.  That's a long time to be processing information.  Even machines eventually wear down.  Most retailers only offer a 15 day return policy and a 3 year warranty on computers so I think 19,509 is pretty darn good.  Now, where was I?
Ah yes, I have Old Timers Disease.  My memory loss is more designer in nature~ I might forget to wash the dishes, but I will never forget to turn the TV on for my ball game.  I may stare blankly at you when you reminisce about something from our past that did not end well for me, but I sure as Sunday will remember every detail of something blackmail worthy from your past.
I cannot even begin to imagine the frustration my father must feel on a daily basis.  Mama doesn't remember and I don't care.  On the plus side, he eats very well.  He just might have to eat alone because Mama likes to nap after she cooks, and I like to nap, period.
Sometimes I wonder, with this 19,509 day old brain of mine, that perhaps being an old timer isn't so bad after all.  If it's worth remembering, I will.  If I forget 19,508 of those days, you can bet that the one day I remember will be a doozie!  Perhaps I will tell Mama about it, and she may laugh for as long as she can remember, and then I will tell her again.
And dad will just sit quietly in his corner, nibbling on his third pizza or fourth sandwich.
This is compatibility at it's finest.

Miss Euna Lee

This is Euna.  The name is listed as Hopi (remember); Celtic (hunger, lamb, one);  Korean (silver); and Greek (good victory). When we first heard of the name before Rebecca knew what the sex of her baby was, we were under the impression that it meant 'hunger' and immediately fell in love with the name.  Now that Euna is born and her personality is developing I am under the impression that the name, with all of its definitions and interpretations, is perfect for her.
Sadly for me, after 2 1/2 months of being a hands-on grandmother, I had to say goodbye to my sweet little Euna.  I miss her and my grandsons, maybe even more than I miss my own children.  Is that wrong?  I think it's because, now that my children are older, they no longer need me in the same capacity as before.  With my grandchildren I felt like I was instrumental in their day, that I had something more important to offer than just company.  My kids no longer look to me as a teacher and lets face it, there are only so many times that you can steal a person's nose before they get on to you.  When your children grow beyond the need of 'mommy magic', then it is time to incorporate 'grandmother magic'.  I thrive on it, but am removed from all right now.
That is okay though, because I am, as I am so fond of stating, exactly where I need to be at this very moment.  Its time to work a little 'daughter magic' for my mother now.
I wonder if she remembers the 'I've got your nose' trick?

Where has the time gone?

It has been almost a year since I announced that I was going to dust off this blog.  This is my first entry since that announcement, and yet so much has happened.  One of my grandsons and step-grandson have moved to Colorado to stay with my son Gabe for a while.  They stayed with us for a short while when Gabe was deployed in Iraq.  It is so nice to have them back again, I missed them more than I had realized.
My daughter Rebecca is now a mother to a beautiful daughter named Euna who was born on Halloween morning 2013.  It is oddly appropriate.
I suppose the biggest change though, is my situation.  I resigned from my job at the Air Force Academy Shoppette and have moved to Hawaii to help my dad care for my mother who is in the early stages of Alzheimer's Syndrome.  I have been here off and on since mid July.  Ironically, all of the misfortune that I encountered over the past few years; my separation from my husband, having to move from the apartment I was sharing with my son to make room for his new family, being fired from a job that I loved~ having all those incidents unknowingly remove obstacles and commitments from my way so that I could make this move without hesitation.
I am exactly where I need to be.
And perhaps this will give me the time and space I need to find out what I plan on doing with the rest of my life.
For starters, I need to learn how to manage this blog all over again.  Pictures to follow once I figure out how to add them.
And you'd think after all this time, they'd have added more fonts and a back dating feature.
Oh well, lets see how well this old dog will take to new tricks.

HANAFUDA

...because someone has to carry on the tradition of cheating at cards.