What a nice place to come to after being away awhile.  I appreciate my FunTrivia friends and their encouraging comments on my last post.

I also want to work on my novel some more, parts of which I have posted in my blog.  I was telling my students today (Seniors in an ACT English Prep class) that I am working on a novel.  I fear that many of them see teachers as those people who 'teach because they can't do.'  That is truly disheartening.  I did need the validation and encouragement of those of you who wrote to me.  It seems the world is alway pulling us down.  I am definitely ready to see things from a more optimistic point of view.  I do want to "stop and smell the coffee" and "the roses" and all those other tired cliches'.

Here's to the glass being 'half full.'

Blessings to you all!

Karen

in beautiful Tennessee.....loving the fall weather :-)

I know we all have the same amount of time, but mine seems to escape me and I have failed to do things I enjoy lately.  So, as I enter my third day of my quickly wanning fall break, I am already grieving its end.  Five days off from teaching school is a lovely luxury.  But, I have not used it well or wisely and its loss is one I will grieve as I look eagerly for the next break, which will be Thanksgiving.  I fear that I am wishing my life away and I want to stop and I don't know how.  It is something that I have always done that I dislike about myself.  I want to be one of those people who 'lives in the moment.'  I spend too much time in dread of what's to come or anticipation for some vague threat in the future.  I also procrastinate the things that would give me peace, were they more quickly accomplished.  So, here I am at Fun Trivia, a place I enjoy, where I haven't made time to be in quite some time.  I admonish myself to spend more time and take the time on things I enjoy that affirm me and make me smile.

Today is the best day to do that.  God's grace is entirely amazing.

Karen

10-17-09

 

Other Half Of Me :

Love It

The change of the seasons, rainfall, real romance, the night sky, watching snow fall, the sound of children laughing, great music heard for the first time, fresh citus, vanilla scents, long walks, roaring fires, candle light, smooth sheets and warm blankets, good coffee, sleeping late, the colors of springtime, laughing, teaching students who want to learn, going out early AM to get my newspaper, cats sleeping, a great professional massage, holiday traditions, antique collecting, watching kittens and puppies play, "puppy breath, " worship, quiet time with God, star gazing, simple beauty, art, music, coming home, getting cozy.....

Music

Classic Rock, Contemporary Rock, Contemporary Christian, Jazz, Blues, ... Van Morrison-everything, especially, "Brown Eyed Girl, " "Warm Love, " and "Into The Mystic." Carol King, James Taylor, Phoebe Snow, Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Linda Ronstadt, Janis Joplin, The Rolling Stones, Cat Stevens, The Pretenders: "I'm Special, " Otis Redding: "Try A Little Tenderness, " Pete Townsend & The Who "Let My Love Open The Door, " and Allison Krauss "When You Say Nothing At All."

About Me

Harmony and peace are what I seek. I am a high school English teacher, divorced for 9 years with two teenaged children. I enjoy the blessings of wonderful family and friends, a cozy home, and most of all, a loving God who meets my needs abundantly.
"Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass, it is about learning to dance in the rain."

Hate It

People who drive slow in the fast lane, bad drivers period, anyone who chooses to be ignorant when knowledge is there for the taking, bad grammar, people who litter, inconsistency, rudeness, arrogance, crudeness, thoughtlessness, selfishness, and people who are so liberal and "open-minded" that all their brains have fallen out.

Activies

Reading, movies, long walks, antique collecting, music, concerts, writing, television, sleeping, good conversation, politics, cooking, gardening, going to the Farmer's Market, bike riding, swimming, being with people who make me think and laugh....

Films / TV Shows

The Godfather, To Kill A Mockingbird, Gone With The Wind, Pretty In Pink, Baby Boom, Overboard, Reality Bites, Tootsie, Clueless, The Way We Were, Big, Hoosiers, Dave, Guarding Tess, Terms of Endearment, Steel Magnolias, The Sting, Dirty Dancing, A Few Good Men, Jurassic Park, Broadcast News with Holly Hunter, Always with Richard Dreyfuss and Holly Hunter, Urban Cowboy with John Travolta, An Officer and A Gentleman with Richard Gere, Body Heat with William Hurt, Coming Home with Jon Voight, Remember The Titans, Dan In Real Life with Steve Carell... too many to list..... I love movies! I love all of Alfred Hitchcock and all the black & white classics. / The Closer, Criminal Minds, House, CSI, Law and Order, Numbers, Court TV, Cold Case, Bones, The King of Queens, Seinfeld, I Love Lucy, MASH, The Andy Griffith Show, Court TV, Clean House on 'Style.' That 70's Show, Everybody Loves Raymond, The Mentalist, The Real Housewives of New York City< (major guilty pleasure) ....

Quotes

"Real, romantic love is friendship on fire.... -Anonymous "Love is not a feeling; it's an ability" -DAN IN REAL LIFE" ""Life is not the number of breaths we take; it is the moments that take our breath away." Anonymous" ""Work like you don't need the money, dance like nobody's watching, love like you've never been hurt." -Anonymous" ""Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass..... it is about learning to dance in the rain.""

Books / Magazines

"People Like Us" by Dominick Dunne, "Gone With The Wind" by Margaret Mitchell, "To Kill A Mockingbird" by Harper Lee, "Seventeenth Summer" by Maureen Dailey...... I have a huge library; love my books. Mysteries, true crime, anything by John Grisham, Dominick Dunne, Agatha Christie, or Patricia Cornwell. I subscribe to too many magazines and the daily newspaper. I'm addicted to the news and politics...

But again, nothing was normal about this day….

 

‘Six degrees of separation,’ ‘ships in the night,’ ‘when worlds collide’ are expressions heard all the time, expressions that people seldom give much thought to unless something off course happens, like running into next door neighbors, from the suburbs, on a Hawaiian vacation that neither knew the other was taking.

…………………………………………………………………………………

 

Corinthian Brown was ‘in trouble,’ even before he was born….one of those people who never had a chance.  His mother was a crack whore who gave birth to him under a bridge in Harlem among the filth and debris of multiple lives gone to shame.  She was fifteen and had not known she was pregnant.  It would not have mattered, as she was too deep in the drug to care or react.  Her death 20 minutes later went unheralded, as well.  The cops found her on a sweep of the area in search of a suspect from a liqueur store robbery.  It was handled routinely.  Overworked cops did not spend time on locating the families of junkies, even one, so obviously young; the new born baby just complicated things.  It was Christmas Eve and it was cold and starting to snow.  The young cop, fresh from the academy, cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby in his leather jacket, cleaned the air ways and waited in anticipation for the expected cry of life.  It came and it was a wail.  The baby boy opened his eyes; they were startling blue and the cop wondered abstractly if all babies had blue eyes.

Corinthian Brown was born, although the name came much later.  He left that bridge in a cop car, the first of many rides to come, with a robbery suspect and two Harlem cops, who were just too tired to care.  The ride immediately quieted the baby and both cops commented on his alertness.  The young cop lamented the loss of his expensive leather jacket and the old cop called in the body.  The body, the body of the girl, the mother, would remain a mystery.  In another life… she had been beautiful.  She had been smart.  She had been loved.  She had been middle school home coming queen, head cheerleader, student council, and honor roll.  She had a family who cared, a family who would never give up hope…just a distance away in Soho.  There had been prayers, interviews, detective agencies, and bad leads.  They would never give up hope for their blue eyed girl.  It had been three years since Hope Carson had disappeared with “that boy”…..  She had just turned 13 and he was 17 and he was ‘trouble.’  She had been ‘raised better’ and he had not been ‘raised’ at all. This was how it ended.  A cold slab in the morgue, a medical examiner who did not bother to go through ‘the process.’  After all, it was a holiday and the morgue was full.  Too many junkies and not enough time.  Her body would go unclaimed.  Her family would continue to hope.  Her newborn son, a ward of the state, shuffled from one foster home to the next.  Adopted once, at age two, he was given his first legal name; nice black couple that saw his appeal.  He was a beautiful child, with smooth chocolate skin, silky black curls, and those blue eyes, those bright blue eyes, his mother’s eyes.  Even at two, he was tall and thin.  He had a seriousness about him, as if he knew things…  then he would smile and his eyes lit up.   Tonya Brown fell in love with him at first sight and Jerome Brown, her husband, was so in love with her that he finally agreed.  Jerome had a bad feeling about the whole thing; “no background” on the child made him hesitant.  Married for seven years and childless, Tonya was desperate to be a mother.  Jerome’s success on Wall Street made it financially feasible and they both had so much love to give.  As Jerome was still ‘hesitant,’ Tonya chose the baby’s name on her own.  He would be Corinthian, after her father, just Corinthian.  No middle name.  Corinthian Brown had finally found a home.

 

Jayne Barringer left her Connecticut home that morning, so distracted, that she never thought of setting the alarm, not even for a second. Lourdes Rayas, her housekeeper had Tuesdays off. This fact had also not occurred to Jayne.  Her house was empty.  Jayne's mind was filled with editorial deadlines and  dinner plans.  Jayne Barringer did not handle stress well.  She was in survival mode, juggling a dozen things of various degrees of importance.  She did not see the rusted Ford Thunderbird that she cut off in traffic.  She was late, and she was never late.  She glided her sleek Jaguar through the traffic with what she considered the utmost of care.

It was in this manner that Jayne Barringer’s life came to intersect with the lives of Corinthian Brown and Rico Crymes.  The two young men had only met that morning.  They had both spent the night in lock-up at Riker’s Island and had the same overworked, inexperienced public defender. Each had a very long, but undistinguished juvenile record, long since sealed.  It was Rico’s idea to heist the old Ford.  Corinthian’s contribution was to pay for breakfast.  The all night diner they chose was right around the corner from Jayne Barringer’s office. 

Jayne’s normal routine was to have the company car drive her in from Connecticut.  She did not like to drive.  The company car with its competent driver allowed her to multi-task; taking care of business with her Blackberry before even arriving at the office.  This was her idea of how to start the day; that and Starbuck’s.  But, nothing was normal about this day.

Jayne was named after the late actress Jayne Mansfield.  Her grandmother had known Mansfield as a neighbor and a friend.  Her family joked about the “Mansfield curse,” after Jayne’s early attempts at driving had led to numerous accidents, and near-accidents.  ‘People don’t drive in New York,’ they had reasoned, not wanting to see “their Jayne” meet the same fate as her famous namesake.  To pacify them, Jayne took the company car in each day to work and returned in like manner to the comfort of her Connecticut home, far from the evils of the city.

But again, nothing was normal about this day….

 

Into my heart's treasury,

I slipped a coin-

that time cannot take,

nor a thief purloin.

Oh, better than the minting

of a gold crowned king,

is the safe kept memory

of a lovely thing.

-Sara Teasdale

 

This poem I memorized in high school came to me this morning as I marveled at the beauty of the snow.  As I have shared, here in West Tennessee, we do not get a lot of snow.  This last snow broke records, 13 inches; we made the national news and broke a 40 year record for snowfall.  Even though the snow came on Saturday, I am out of school for the second day.  I teach in a consolidated -public -city/county high school and the school buses make it too dangerous for travel on the icy secondary roads.  The 40+ degree daytime temperatures with bright sunshine are not making a dent in this snow, especially with night time temperatures being sub-freezing. 

Though March is here and it is time to welcome spring, it feels to me as if winter has just arrived.  I know the buttercups are frozen beneath the icy layers, never to raise their sunny heads again.  The beautiful budding trees and shrubs are broken under the weight of snow and ice.  My house is adorned in sparkling icesicles.

I love the quote from Albert Camus:

"In the midst of winter

I discovered within me

An invincible summer."

The weather, like life is always changing.  By the weekend, with temperatures in the high 60's, the snow will be nothing more than a memory.

Now that my age has reached the half century mark, 'making memories' has taken on greater significance.

I make time to notice, to savor and enjoy life's lovely things...

Karen

March 3, 2009

It snowed.  Real snow, significant snow.  Jackson, Tennessee never gets this much snow.  As much as 13  inches in the drifts.  Winter wonderland time.  Totally beautiful.  It started yesterday, around 4:00 PM on Saturday the 28th, 2009.  It was my brother's birthday.  He was born in 1960; it was a leap year and it snowed that year too.  I have heard my mother tell the story many times.  I am marveling at the massive snow amounts and missing my brother.  When we were kids, we had a hill behind our house and it seemed to snow a lot back then.  It snowed enough that we had a sled and we used it. A lot.  The last time I visited that area, the hill had eroded, less a hill, more a slight incline.  That made me sad.  But, time does that.  Time erodes people, places, and memories.  It is hard to keep some of them alive and then it snows on an anniversary and it all comes flooding back.

I am enjoying the snow with my daughters.  We sat last night in front of our big picture window and watched the snow and the movie Mystic Pizza.  It was cozy and we were close.  Today, most churches are closed.  Another cozy day indoors.  Even with the bright sunshine and 39 degree temperatures the snow is hanging in there.  My girls built their snowman in the shade to keep him from melting/eroding in the bright sunshine.  We've played Clue and Uno Spin and now my gourmet chef daughter is starting dinner.  I want to save these snow days in my heart's memory.

We are greedy and want the snow to keep us out of school tomorrow.  Will it all melt away, will it re-freeze tonight at 22 degrees, will the country roads be clear???

When I am 80 years old, like my mother, will I remember these days?  I hope my daughters will.  I want them to remember the laughter and the fun, making memories, making them last.

Karen

RainyDayGirl

March 1, 2009

I need a vacation from my life.  I want one of those 'Calgon, take me away!' commercials to sweep me into a peaceful oblivion. 

I loved those commercials! They always depicted a woman reclining peacefully in a huge bathtub, wafting in the fragrance from Calgon, in the warmth of the water, finding her 'happy place' in the serenity of the moment.

My serenity lately has been more of the Seinfeld  variety;  the episode with George's father screaming: "Serenity, Now!" at the top of his lungs when he felt stressed.

I think if I can find a middle ground between the two, I might just find my happy place.

Karen

Saturday, February 7, 2009

My sixteen year old daughter, who will be playing "homecoming Barbie" tomorrow night, recently had an interesting conversation with a male friend. He was telling her about a boy who "likes her" and said this boy might feel more comfortable talking to her if she weren't so smart.

PLEASE!!!!!
She is a straight A student, has been a cheerleader for the past five years, runs track, and is a great artist and writer. By the way, cheerleading is a real sport these days. It is not just girls jumping up and down and clapping.
This is her second year to be in the basketball homecoming royalty. She is sweet and beautiful inside and out. The idea of someone telling her to 'play dumb' to attract a man makes me livid.

I just shared this story with some women online who responded to my "Total Woman" blog. We were reflecting on the way the world treats men and women so differently.  Recent politics come immediately to mind.

There's Marilyn Monroe, one of our most famous sexual icons, who was quoted:

 

"I say, let it be a man's world, as long as I can be a woman in it."

 

I only know this, I can't help but want a little more for my daughters. There was a book years ago called The Cinderella Complex.  It was about the ideas and expectations from the 1950's: how if a girl was sweet and pretty enough, some nice man would marry her and take care of her.  Most women want more than that.  Instead of going to college to meet and marry a doctor, the book suggested we raise our daughters to be a doctor.

I still have all my Barbie Dolls and Cinderella is one of my favorite fairy tales.  I love happy endings.  But, at the end of the day, I want my daughters to be complete in themselves, the women God created them to be.  That's a happy beginning, that I can encourage and nurture.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Karen 

 

I was just a teenager at the time, but I remember the controversy created in the 1970's by Marabel Morgan's book The Total Woman.  It was probably one of the most talked about books of the decade. The book encouraged women to spice up their marriages by meeting their husbands at the door, upon their arrival home from work, wrapped in Saran Wrap (just plastic wrap) and nothing else...  a little fun gift for him to unwrap.  The women's liberation movement was outraged.  That was the time of Ms. magazine and Gloria Steinem, with slogans like:  "A woman's place is in the house and in the senate."

Virginia Slims cigarettes tauted a similar slogan:

"You've Come A Long Way, Baby" to which the women's movement responded:

"We haven't come a long way, and we're not babies!"

In the Presidential election last year, it became very clear to me that the playing field is not level.  Sarah Palin was immediately sexualized.  Her statement that: "the only difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull is lipstick" was viewed as cute, but not so clever.  Her wardrobe was dissected; they don't do that to men and she became a running joke on "Saturday Night Live."  She took it all in stride; she's much tougher than a pit bull.  I think she might actually be "the total woman."

Karen

RainyDayGirl

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

 

***This was my first FunTrivia blog.**** 

The posts to my blog are not in order,

but I think they are all here now,

from June of 2007,

to the present, February 2009.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

 

First of all, I am not blonde.  I have been, but it was a mistake and I was not good at it.  I think being blonde is an attitude.  Marilyn Monroe knew how to be blonde.

I am a brunette.  I am excellent at being a brunette.  My period of being blonde, came as a result of 'highlights gone wrong.'  I learned quickly that people treat you differently when you are blonde.  For example, I had the hardest time convincing the salesman at a gardening store that I understood how to use 'weed and feed.'  It was like he really didn't believe that I had used it on my lawn before, quite successfully, and he truly doubted that I could succeed without adult supervision. I thought for a while that he wasn't going to sell it to me.  Then there was the washing machine repair man who refused to charge me; you had to be there, but I think it was because I was blonde.  There are too many incidents to name, but it was more than I could handle.  I don't like being perceived as 'not that bright' or helpless.  It's insulting.

 

I read a cool quote from Dolly Parton recently.  She stated that she is not insulted by 'blonde jokes.'  Her exact words were: "I know I'm not dumb and I know I'm not blonde."

 

I have a favorite short story by Kurt Vonnegut,  Jr.  It's called "The Lie" and it's about a wealthy married couple who are trying to get their 13 year old son accepted into an exclusive prep school called Whitehill.  Sylvia Remenzel and her doctor husband are obsessed with their son's acceptance.  They are in denial about their son's intellectual capacity to function within such a challenging school and the father tries to bribe the administrators.  He feels compelled to do this, ALL the men in his family have attended Whitehill for generations.  Eli, the son, is completely humiliated when faced with the headmaster and his own deceit in hiding the school's rejection letter from his parents.

But, the mother, Sylvia, is a bit more pragmatic; she's a realist.  She was not born, as her husband was, "with a silver spoon" in her mouth.  I picture her as a blonde and beautiful trophy wife.  But she is not compliant!  When her husband tries to keep her 'in her place,'  as Vonnegut describes her: "Sylvia enjoyed arguing with her husband about her lack of reserve and his excess of it, enjoyed saying at the end of arguments like that, 'Well, I guess I'm just a simple-minded country girl at heart, and that's all I'll ever be, and I'm afraid you will just have to get used to it.' "

Sylvia knows how to be blonde; she works it.  I admire blondes and I like blonde jokes.  I get the concept of 'having a blonde moment.' But, I have never forgotten the bumper sticker I saw years ago:

"There's NO such thing as a dumb blonde."

January 31, 2009, Saturday

Karen in Tennessee

Just a Simple-Minded Country Girl

"Sunday Morning Coming Down".....what does that mean anyway?  I am a child of the sixties, I should know this.  I was born in the 50's, grew up in the 60's, came of age in the 70's, and screwed up in the 80's. My two children were born in the 90's; that was my real coming of age.  That's when you really grow up, when you become someone's mother.  

I graduated from high school in 1976; that was a big deal back then, the Bicentiennial Year.... the "Spirit of '76".... television was one 'Bicentiennial Minute' after another... they all started with:  "One hundred years ago today...."  I was seventeen.

Ten years later, I got married, it was 1986.  I was 27 years old.  That is not young, I was not stupid, I SHOULD have known better.

I have learned a lot since then; I have learned that the only person that I can change is me.  I have learned that people lie, and that they lie about sex and money more than anything else.  I have learned that you can live with someone for 14 years and not really know them, no matter how much you love them and no matter how much you care.

I have learned that being a parent is the "hardest best job in the whole world."

I have learned that on a cold, winter, Sunday morning, when your mind is full, writing down your thoughts in an online blog is a catharsis, it is a prayer, it is a lifeline...

it is Sunday morning coming down.

Amen.

1-11-09

 

So, since it is 2009, and the computer puts information at my finger tips, I 'googled' the song and this is what I learned:

 

Kris Kristofferson wrote "Sunday Morning Coming Down" while living in a run-down tenement in Nashville when he was working as a janitor for Columbia Records. He was told if he was caught pitching songs to any artists he would be fired. He delivered this song personally to Johnny Cash after landing his National Guard helicopter in Cash's front yard. This song was #1 on the Country charts for 2 weeks in September 1970.

“Sunday Morning Coming Down”

Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
Cussin' at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street,
'n caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken.
And it took me back to somethin',
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to the song they were singin'.
Then I headed back for home,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'.
And it echoed through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

I live in Jackson, Tennessee, that's West Tennessee, the "Mid-South" and we have the seasons here... real seasons, they can be seen, "in the traditional ways."  I say this because one of my best friends, Richard, lives in Panama City, Florida.  He says there they have two seasons: 'summer and not-summer.'  He went to college here in Jackson... he misses the change of the seasons.  Spring and summer are especially nice. 

I have always lived here; it's the place of my birth and I like it most of the time.  However, I catch myself in pure envy of those of you who live in places where you get SNOW, significant SNOW!  I love SNOW!  It may very well be because I live in Jackson, Tennessee, where we literally get excited over every flake that falls.  I write this today because my friend Brad lives in Chicago, "home of significant snow," and I shared with him about a recent school closing. I am a teacher and teachers love snow.  We PRAY for snow days!!!  We have 13 weather days built into our school calendar and if we don't use them, we work them.  Our school system has closed school, on more than one occassion, because snow was predicted, though it never came.  This is especially amusing to people who scorn our hyper-excitement over snow and our inability to drive on it.  We call these people 'Yankees.'  We scorn their disdain for our excitement over snow! 

However, this past Friday, January the 16th, we set a new standard...

Our school system closed because of COLD.  I don't remember this ever happening, ever, and I went to school here and worked in this system since I was twenty-one.  The forecasters predicted Friday would be 4 degrees with a wind chill of minus 10 and our superintendent closed school... the whole system and all after school activities...  And, it actually got that cold. I am always amazed when the forecasters get it right. I believe that only God knows what the weather is going to do and He makes the weather forecasters look foolish on a regular basis.  God is the ultimate 'weather Man' and all the technology in the world can't get past Him.

So, here I am in my cozy, warm home... loving my 4 day weekend, (there's Dr. King's holiday on Monday) and marveling at the technology that brings us the weather.  With the heat index and wind chill factors, the meterologists get a lot of attention... all I know is the house is warm, the coffee is hot, and "baby, it's cold out there."

Karen in Tennessee

RainyDayGirl

January 17, 2009

Got SNOW?????????

I am a Southern Girl.  We wear make-up.  We wear make-up to bring in the mail.  We wear make-up to water the lawn.  We wear make-up to feed the dog... you get the idea.  My "Yankee girl friends" find this amusing.  They do not suffer from this proclivity.  They are free.  Today, I decided to be free.  Too Free! I went to the grocery store for a 'quick trip.'  Really quick.  That was the plan.  As I said in the earlier blog, it is cold out there, but we needed stuff.  I buy food, but my kids keep eating it.... so, I ran to the  grocery.  I went as I was.  I have done this before.  I have taken the risk...Yes, my longish hair in a messy bun, baggy sweats, and tennis shoes.... comfortable, thankfully CLEAN, and warm.  I have done this several times in the past, thankfully, uneventfully so, but not today......

Immediately upon entering Kroger, I saw HIM. 

Worst Nightmare stuff, not #1, 

but definitely in the Top 10 of Worst Nightmares. 

Old Boyfriend!!!

HIM looking good, just as HE did  23 years ago when we were dating.  HIM, the last man I dated before my husband and I got married

(my now ex-husband). 

I willed myself to disappear. 

That only works in science fiction movies. 

The last time I heard from HIM or saw HIS name was in the local newspaper.  HE was getting married for the second time. 

HE was getting married to someone more than half our age. 

I was ticked. 

Since my divorce and my re-entry into the world of dating, I have observed this many times..... Men my age, dating women young enough to be their daughters.  And now, all these years later.... here I am looking so bad, and HIM looking so good.  We spoke, in a hesitant, nonchalant manner.  As if we weren't quite sure.... but, I knew and I think HE knew.  After my husband (my now ex-husband) and I were married, they ran into each other during a business transaction and HE told my husband he was lucky to have me. 

Somehow, after today, I don't think HE would say that. 

That makes me sad.  I know it's lame, but it does. 

I should have worn make-up and done something to my hair. 

I should have smiled and talked to HIM.  To me, in my panic, HE looked like a HOT 'age 50' and I looked like a pitiful, neglected 'age 50.'

 ....and HE probably still has that young wife at home (???)

I obviously have some growing up to do.  I pride myself on being non-superficial.  Yeah, right.  But, I really liked HIM once upon  a very long time ago.  I think the whole thing is like-- not really wanting to go to a party, but still wanting to be invited..... not wanting HIM, but still wanting to be wanted by HIM.  Surely, everyone can relate to that.

 

This is a cautionary tale for all you Southern Girls out there.  Avoid  "panic at the grocery store".... do your hair and make-up, paint your nails, wear something cute....

Who knows how many old boyfriends are lurking around out there???

Karen

RainyDayGirl

January 17, 2009

P.S.  Upon returning home, I told my daughters my tale of woe.  They are 14 and 16.  They look beautiful ALL the time.  They never need make-up.  They have nothing to hide.  They assured me that I looked great, even without make-up.  I am just as sure that they are biased.

I am a morning person.  I am the poster girl for 'early to bed, early to rise...'

I keep thinking about the bonus, perks, etc. of getting up and leaving for work before the sun comes up.  There are many, the quiet, the solitude, and best of all, I get to see the sun come up. 

There is also that first cup of coffee, the one that lures you out of bed when the blankets are so comforting.  The warmth, the aroma; coffee is life.

If you get up really early and look at the morning sky, you can see the face of God.

Amen.

Karen

1-4-2009

It's raining, it's pouring, there's no ice a forming and I get to stay home from school anyway.  I live in West Tennessee, home of "We Close School For Unreliable Weather Predictions."  However, I am not complaining.  All the prayers and supplication of our local teachers have paid off and we have a day of freedom from being 'another brick in the wall.'

You know, Pink Floyd, "Another Brick In the Wall," that's how teaching has felt lately, so I was coveting a day off. 

Tonight, there might actually be ice and snow here, not just north of us. And, maybe, if I turn around 3 times and click my heels together it will be spring break.  I think I am wishing my life away.

I want to feel renewed and go back to school with a new zest for teaching.  I need my figurative battery recharged.  I need to get my freshmen ready for their English End-of-Course.

I need to put on my big girl panties.  But, right now, I'm going Back to Bed!!!!!!!!!!!!

Karen< thinking warm thoughts on a cold rainy day