Archive for the ‘What Was She Thinking’ Category

I love the new advertisement for ?? is it WalMart?  It may not be the most successful ad, since I cannot remember what it is for, but I love it anyway.

We are all raised with an idea of what beauty is.  My mother tends to use the word pretty for all kinds of things.  “Doesn’t she have a pretty face?”  “That shirt is pretty.”  “There’s a pretty rock.”

Conversely, anything she does not like is ugly.  “That sausage tastes ugly.”  “That yard is ugly.”  Etc.

My idea of pretty is a bit off from my mothers.  I think that Whoppi Goldberg is one of the prettiest actors (I guess using actress is not PC.) around.  But, somehow judging say, Nicholas Cage, on a pretty scale is just wrong.  Now, if you want to talk Viggo Mortensen——.

I have painted portraits professionally for over twenty years now, and I think all faces are beautiful.  I love Whoppi’s smile.  It makes her beautiful.  Some people have beautiful eyes.  Some have beautiful wrinkles.  Honest! 

And, I love to watch that commercial because every one of those people is beautiful, and so are you!

P.S.  Right now, I’m looking in the mirror and reminding myself that I have always thought wrinkles were pretty.


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We were playing dominoes last night, about the only game they can get me to join them at the game table, and there was a light knock on the door. I think it startled all of us because we had not heard neither a car pull in, nor footsteps on the wooden porch, nor the screen door open and shut. Irritating Little Chihuahua had not even barked.

It was a dear old friend. A Viet Nam vet who grew up in my husband’s neighborhood and has become a best friend to me too.

For many years, the three of us were like the three musketeers. We spent evenings together; at our home, or at his home, at the pizza parlor, movies, or mutual friend’s homes. We built decks together, got drunk together, and mainly just spent a lot of hours in each other’s company, talking. We lost touch when we moved to Wyoming. Now, we live about four hours away and here he was, knocking on our door.

He loved history, and enlisted for Viet Nam. He said he “wanted to be a part of history.” He got more than he bargained for, and has three purple hearts and his own demons. He is a rather slightly built fellow and was a natural to go into the tunnels. I will not tell his story here. He is still dealing with it, but he wanted to pay us back for what he perceived as a favor we did for him long ago. At the time and still, I called it ‘helping a friend.’ What did we do? We forced him to go into Chicago with us to see the traveling ‘Wall.’ A simple thing, but what he needed.

Now, with two grandsons in the Army, I hope they have friends who will help them also. They will all need friends, who do simple things for them, who will listen to them and then, as we did, perhaps go to see what is the right thing to do at a Vet center, and be there for them.

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Xup had a great blog on First Impressions, First Impressions « XUP, and mentioned first impressions in choosing hair dressers.

Since, I have an eternal problem with hairdressers, I figure maybe this is my problem.  First, and I do not want to appear bigoted about heavy people, as I have been one of those half my life, I will say that when I have picked a beautician who is in her forties, overweight and graduated from beauty school within th elast two years, it is NOT a good decision.  Of couse the beautician who is 40, has cut hair for years and has died blond spiked hair wasn’t such a good idea either. 

She was local and I was delighted; for two years she gave me the best cut I ever had, then one day, I got home and realized she had only cut half my head.  Literally, she cut the right side of my hair and not the left.  I went back three months later and she did it again, so that was that.

I now have a nice young girl at WalMart, who cuts my hair.  Good ones never last long there but I can hope.  She wasn’t there the last time I went in and I took the 40 year old overweight newbie and yup!  Bad haircut.  I had to come home and do some snipping myself.

And, that is never a good thing.

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Yes, I am here and alive.  I had a bad week, month, going on six months; still fighting my insurance.  HIP (The Healthy Indiana Plan) tells me I am insured.  Anthem, however, chooses to deny me coverage and has gone so far as to even stop debiting my monthly payment.  SOOOOOO!!!

I left home.  Seriously, I have gone to my “zone of protection bubble.”  Did you know that the zone of protection bubble is in South Bend?  That is why President Busch came here three or four times before his campaign and why President Obama has already been here twice.  They know where the “zone of protection bubble” is.

I do not have to open the mail, and find bad news, in my zone.  I do not have a land line phone in South Bend.  I do not turn on my cell phone in South Bend.  I am in my zone. 

What do you do in South Bend, when you are in your Zone of Protection, you ask?

  1. You take a two hour ride on the South Shore train, Northern Indiana Commuter Transportation District.
  2. You walk in Chicago. Choose Chicago – the official visitors site for Chicago | explore now.  I love Chicago.  It was good just to get off the train and smell Chicago.  I could smell Chicago air blindfolded.
  3. You go the the Museum of Science and Industry Welcome to The Museum of Science and Industry and discover that someone has stolen the Museum and left a cheap imitation in its place.
  4. Except for Earth Revealed.  That was great.  Museum of Science and Industry | What’s Here | Exhibits | Earth Revealed
  5. You go to the Harry Potter exhibit, Museum of Science and Industry | What’s Here | Exhibits | Harry Potter: The Exhibitionwhich is only attached to the Museum by a tent and have the most wonderful adventure.  Hehehe, this is a teaser. I am in my zone and so I can tease you and only write the details later!!
  6. You flirt with a totally young, and probably gay man at the Museum and walk away feeling twenty years younger.  He gave us our guided tour speaker thingies.
  7. And all of the above was just one day.
  8. You also go and eat breakfast at Welcome to LePeep.  And, no that is not a chicken restaurant, although I have a great chicken picture from the Museum to share.
  9. Then, you go to http://www.sbchocolate.com/ South Bend Chocolate Company, tell them they should give you free truffles because you send business their way on your blog and they laugh as they hand you your Aztec (Mexican) hot chocolate and 1/2 pound of dark chocolate truffles and your bill.  (worth a try!)
  10. And, then, your zone (a/k/a Master’s Daughter) gives you the most relaxing part of your journey.  You get your first pedicure and ask the Chinese gentleman if he will marry you because no one has ever rubbed your feet like that.
  11. You also get to talk to your Army Grandson, who is in Kuwait.
  12. You get asked to go shopping by your “Hollister” grandson.  They chased him down the hall at the mall one day and asked him to work for them, since they said he had “their look.”
  13. Then, you watch a “girlie” movie, Love Actually.  The first of several for my zone visit
  14. AND, you get to do some of this while viewing things on high speed access that you never get to see at home, on dial-up, with a party line. 

There are no party lines, they have not lost electricity once, and the mail doesn’t come for me here.  Did I mention I do not have to open the mail???

So, while I am at the zone, I may or I may not write on my blog.   Well, I actually have, because I am writing this.   The rental people want their car back Saturday.  I’m not sure what is with that, but they made me tell them exactly what day to have it back.

In my Zone I do not have to make decisions.

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I began reading Helen, of Margaret and Helen, during the elections. This 80 something year old lady is just a hoot. Her logic is infallable and she is not afraid to speak her mind. Today’s post was a lot about American’s thinking about exactly who they are and who the other guy is. Margaret and Helen

My belief is that someone, at some point, drew this huge line in the sand.  They drew it under Texas and above Mexico and, there but for an accident of my birth, I could have been a person born on the south side of the line.  Being born on the north side does not make me better or brighter.  It does not give me the absolute right to have a job and feed my family (as millions of people are beginning to find out in this economy).  And, it sure as heck does not mean that a man should have to sneak a foot over the border to get a job to feed his family.  His family has as much right to eat as I do.

If we could just pull up all these imaginary lines and realize that we are all one big world, with my agriculture depending on your climage change and your rain forest depending on my pollution, we maybe, just maybe, could start working together to feed ALLLLLL the people on this earth.

And, I know, my potential editors and agents, that I may be alienating you with this blog.  I am sorry, if I am, but I presume we might not work well together anyway, if that is a problem. 

Now, I have a sister who is a self-avowed “Bigot and proud of it.” Since she proudly proclaims this, I do not think she will be upset by my post today. I “think” she will laugh.

But, Helen’s blog just reminded me of my sister. She grew up in Illinois and she hated African Americans. She moved to Wisconsin and she hated Native Americans. Now, she lives in Arizona and she hates Mexicans. Why is it that no one has says “Mexican Americans” ?

Her husband is a Hungarian American. And, that is another one no one says. This sister of mine, who so hates anyone not like her, married a 1st generation Hungarian. Okay, his skin is white, but his accent is not. I am not sure about his brain yet. I have a lot of thoughts on that. Most of them she knows already, and I can’t use that kind of language here.

But, my point is.  There is always going to be someone different than you and you need to look at all the things that makes us alike.  We breathe air, we bleed, we get sick, we die.  We all need clean air, health care, food, and shelter and we all better start working together to get it in a non-destructive way or none of us will have it.

Love you, Sis.

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 In trolling my favorite blogs last night and then watching The Jane Austen Book Club, I noticed there is a dearth of “my favorite things” lists but I am thinking that it just might be time for a  “What I never intend on doing”  list. 

Not everyone shares my “never do’s” .  George Harrison just never wants to say, goodbye.”  GEORGE HARRISON – I DON’T WANT TO DO IT LYRICS

But, as far as I am concerned:

  1. I do not want to jump out of an airplane.  I don’t care if I have a parachute on or not, it is going to take a lot to ever get me to jump.  (That was from a scene in The Jane Austen Book Club.)
  2.  I do not want to ever eat a living thing; especially if it hangs wiggling out of my mouth.
  3. I do not ever want to rehab a house again.  I know this is probably unrealistic and just because I do not want to does not mean I will not do it.  But, I don’t wanna!!!  I really, really, really, do not want to.
  4. And, with that goes, any reason that I might have to listen to a table saw for four hours a day.  I do not want to ever do that either.
  5. I do not want to sit up in an Emergency Room all night, or be the patient in one, for that matter.  I know, I do not have a choice on this one, but I do not want to do either one.
  6. Bungee Jumping.  Although, it does look a bit like fun, there are things about relying on a rubber band for survival that I do not find appealing.
  7. Extreme Skiing also looks fun but I will stick with the “path well traveled” thankyouverymuch.

I am having a hard time finding things for this list.  Guess, that is why I do not see them much.

P.S.  This is getting easier.  Beside the great lists that XUP has added, I never,  ever, ever want to go out for my daily walk and find a tree hanging with nests (4 of them) of wriggling worms again.  ICK!!!ICK!!!ICK!!!  It brings new meaning to bugs in a bag.  Not that I had a meaning for Bugs in a Bag but it is full of the wiggling icky things and some have opted to go for a mid-morning snack.  They are Eastern tent caterpillars  Eastern tent caterpillar – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


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Is anyone else bothered by the advertisements, by credit card companies (of course), to tell you what a great deal you can get using your credit card to pay your hospital/medical bills?

Get Real!!!!

I am here to tell you, do not do that.   I was without insurance for years and the thing you do is call up the medical provider, tell them your situation and set up a payment schedule.  They are reasonable.  I have only occasionally said, “I cannot pay that much.”  They usually accept whatever you can pay.  I have even paid less than the agreed upon amount occasionally, and they seem just happy that I am paying  what I can every month.

 Can your credit card company say that?

 I had open heart surgery and there was only one doctor who refused to accept payments.  I have no idea what he would have done though?  They cannot throw you in jail for not paying your medical bills.

The only time I can see using a credit card is if you are in a situation where they will not do another test, and you need it, before you pay for the last one. 

You can also go to somewhere, like St. Francis’ hospitals, where they care about their patients, first and foremost, above the bottom line.

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