100 Word Song – I Saw Her Standing There

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I was perusing the mystery section, nothing really grabbing my interest, when I saw her.  The library was as reticent as expected but there was an aura of absolute silence beyond the normal quiet.

She hovered amidst the Dean Koontz novels, showing no interest in one particular book.  I feigned any enthusiasm and continued down the row of books, not taking time to make contact.

She still understood me. She would have put money on the fact I would be in this section.  Even after her passing, she still knew my vices and could anticipate how I would avoid reality.

~~

Written for the 100 word song at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  The song choice this week is “I Saw Her Standing There” by The Beatles.  My best friend passed away almost 10 years ago and I still feel her presence in the strangest places.  This prompt made me think of her.

Of snowflakes and serial killers

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snowpocalypse

The beauty of a white world all around,

but I cannot see it beyond my window.

I am entombed by reality,

gestating in the womb of Mother Nature’s swollen belly.

Her raging emotions unsettle me,

her fury becomes my anger.

My sense of peace is replaced by the need to kill.

Thousands of individual victims lay in wait

and my I raise my weapon.

I lose track of how many bodies have been discarded on my property

as my shovel throws more snowflakes to their grave.

I’ll take a bowl of Super, please.

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Broncos   VS.  seattle-seahawks-team-logo

My most favorite and least favorite day of the year has arrived!!  The culmination of a great season of football and some hard-fought battles with the pigskin bring us to the moment that the Vince Lombardi trophy will be awarded.  My efforts as “The Commish”  in a 17-week long football pool as well as a playoff pool also come to an end at the pinnacle of the football season.  It is a bittersweet day.

Superbowl Sunday is like my Christmas day.  I awake excited knowing what the day will bring and can’t wait to unwrap the gift of football.  Unlike Christmas day, however, I fidget throughout the day in anticipation of the moment I can sit in front of my television set and scream obscenities at will.  My dog has had four weeks of pre-season, seventeen weeks of regular season and three weekends of playoff games to learn how to properly tune out the expletives that undoubtedly cascade from my lips.

This year’s rivalry between Denver and Seattle should be a close game and a well fought battle.  The pure, raw desire for each of these teams to reign supreme is evident on the field and the energy is palpable from both sidelines.  The deeply etched scars of the carnage on the field are proudly worn as badges of honor, but there is another carrot dangling ever so close to Peyton Manning besides putting his lips on the Vince Lombardi trophy.  Should the Denver Broncos emerge victorious, he will be the first quarterback in the NFL to win a second Superbowl championship throwing for two different teams.

Superbowl Sunday has become one of the most anticipated sporting events.  There is something so enticing about the spirit of Superbowl Sunday.  Even if you are not a fan of the game, the camaraderie and the game-day snacks are enough to draw in a crowd, if only to nibble the offerings and watch the commercials!

When the game is done, the trophy is presented and the celebration is carried on beyond the cameras, there should be a rehabilitation program for dedicated fans, like myself.  I admittedly feel a sense of loss and wander aimlessly on the Sunday following Superbowl trying to overcome that loss.  The sudden deviation to absolutely no football requires an intense effort to fill those weekend hours and I am forced to find sufficient entertainment to fill the void.  Thank God for blogging!

But for now, I will focus on Superbowl XLVIII – the throw down between the Broncos and the Seahawks.  It’s gonna be loud, it’s gonna be tense and it’s gonna be the Broncos 34 and the Seahawks 28.  Happy Superbowl Sunday!!

PS: If  you’re looking for me next Sunday, I will be signing up for an out-patient program for football withdrawal.

“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor”

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The subject line of this post is a quote by Truman Capote.  I have always believed that not achieving instant gratification is a necessity.  Failure is life’s way of moving you in another direction and truly allowing you to appreciate eventually achieving that success you have been striving towards.

Lightbulb_bw

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”
―     Thomas A. Edison

(image credit: enchantedlearning.com)

I think of myself as a success because I have failed.  My failures have given me a true sense of self and pushed me to want to attain that success that I covet.  Failure is not an end, it is only a beginning.  That defeat makes me rethink my original plan and construct a new plan, pushing me in a direction I may have not originally intended.

My failures do not define me, they strengthen me.   I can accept falling short of a goal but I could never live with myself if I gave up trying.  Just one line in the sand on the success side of my life is worth all of those hash marks in the failure column.  A few dashes of inadequacy and a sprinkling of botched attempts make that main course of success that much tastier!

Greeting the morning

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Snuggled in my bed at home,

the blankets pulled up tight.

Morning sun begins to rise,

the Earth is bathed in light.

Shimmering snow blankets the trees,

the sun caresses each flake.

The new day yawns to shake off the night,

The Man in the Moon takes a break.

From under the warmth of my duvet I emerge,

ready to start anew.

Adventures and new memories laying in wait,

and dreams I am anxious to pursue.

I open the door to welcome the morn,

the beginning of the day to unfold.

The hesitation of my dog confirms my suspicion,

Holy Shit-balls, it’s cold!!

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Instant idiot, just add alcohol

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This post was inspired by a weekend that happened at my former place of employment.  I’m not sure why this memory surfaced, perhaps because hiring season has begun, but I heed to the advice of my muse.

Our resort hosted a few bus loads of college students, or perhaps a more appropriate definition would be potential future employees.  These eager young scholars were taken on overnight excursions from resort to resort to see what working life would be in their chosen field of hospitality.  The direct result of this adventure was more of an extended recess than a field trip.

There is a reason that the LCBO and multiple organizations urge us to drink responsibly.  After a few too many, we become abhorrent mutations of our former selves and lose all sense of discipline and self-control.  The “White Elephant in the Room” campaign is meant to draw attention to drinking and driving.  Perhaps we should also have a campaign for drinking and being an idiot.   For now, let’s call it the “Saturated Moron” campaign.

I’m not going to lie and tell you that I have never over-imbibed but only once have I ever lost control of the person I have strived to become.  And even in that moment (that I am not so proud of) I have never left an impression of myself that created any ill will, any harm or caused any negative feelings.  With the advancement of technology today we have more than a fair shot of seeing our misgivings pop up on websites like YouTube, Instagram, Twitter and Facebook but that doesn’t seem to be enough of a deterrent for those afflicted with the “soak me in booze until I’m flammable” syndrome.

There are certain things to keep in mind when you are beginning a night out with friends and alcohol will be involved.  If you think you become more attractive when you’re hammered, you do not.  If you feel you can dance like a professional, this is untrue.  And if you think your friends won’t take every opportunity to humiliate you and make sure there is photographic evidence of your drunken shenanigans, think again.

Obvious health reasons aside, when we drink too much we simply make bad choices.  Perhaps the first bad choice was to drink to excess in the first place.  The thing to remember is what has been done cannot be undone.  People have very long memories when it comes to things you have done in a drunken stupor and they will do their best to never let you live it down.  Undoubtedly, they will take every opportunity to replay the videos or repost the images of your misfortunes during your intoxication.

Drinking to excess can cause you to black out and have no recollection of the events of the previous evening.  Be assured, it will either come back to you in small scenes like a movie trailer that you can’t seem to stop or in one horrific flashback that you wish you could eradicate from your memory.

These hospitality pupils failed to maintain any sense decorum during their visit because alcohol, which began the night as the co-pilot, swiftly took over the driver’s seat and all Hell broke loose.  The resort showed the battle scars the following morning as toilet paper dripped from the trees.  Broken glass could be seen littering the ground at every turn and a window was broken as the hooligans attempted to gain access to any snacks that may be hiding in the front office.

I can only imagine the fetid stench emanating from the bus windows on that long, torturous ride back to school.  My sympathy to the driver who may still be in therapy a year and a half later.  I’m sure the simple message about drinking to excess was lost on these poor, hung over souls but there was one directive that rang loud and clear that morning – I would not be hiring, or even recommending, any of those students for future employment.

100 Word Song – Limelight

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Moon

Like the moon held captive in the night sky,

I am suspended in my reality unable to breathe.

My true freedom is a vague memory.

My personal space exists only in the lens of a camera.

Vague reflections of a life I once had are mirrored in that glass.

All I wanted was to reflect my passion through my art.

Fragmented moments alone are stored deep in memory,

treasured few blinks in time that I can grasp and hold tight.

I envy that moon, alone in the night sky

surrounded by stars unable to bridge the distance.

Solitude escapes me.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge over at My Blog Can Beat up your Blog.  You should check it out and follow him if you are not already.

I got to choose the song this week and I chose Limelight by Rush. (yes, it’s a Canadian band and I am Canadian).  Although the song has a great rock beat in typical Rush style, there is a sadness behind the words that I felt compelled to share.  Neil Peart struggled with their rise to fame and the lack of courtesy shown by fans and paparazzi.  Being in the “Limelight” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=vUNxqE_3N0c

Sorry Harry, men and women CAN be friends

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chfriends

(image credit: Bill Watterson)

I am a tomboy.  I always have been and I’m sure, short of a lobotomy, I always will be.  I grew up with a brother four years my senior and I idolized him.  I wore his clothes, I brushed my hair in the same horrific fashion that he did (pictures from the 70’s are NEVER flattering!!) and I customized my mannerisms to be as close to his as possible. His friends became my friends.

During those formidable years as a young girl growing into adolescence I was always more comfortable around boys.  I never felt the inkling to have tea parties – I always wanted to be rough-housing and tossing the pigskin with the guys.  It was where I felt most comfortable and, to this day, it still is where I find my true self.  Don’t misunderstand, I do enjoy putting on a dress and feeling “pretty” every now and then but if I had my choice I would be shroud in a football jersey, a baseball cap and a comfy pair of jeans playing poker in a room full of dudes. That to me is home.

I have never thought of my platonic friendship with the opposite sex to be an oddity.   I have always been “one of the guys”.   It’s where I feel like I fit in.  The male friends I have had throughout my life have never made me feel like an outsider.  I am in NO way discounting the many women in my life that I have the good fortune call friends.  There is an inherent connection with those strong and vivacious women that I hold dear to my heart and there is no comparison to the depth of friendship I have with them.  Women will always have a strong bond with their female friends, as will men with their male friends.  The point of this post is to celebrate the friendships between men and women.

Television and movies have only perpetuated the impossibility of men and women just being friends by turning every story line into an eventual romance.  Modern day relationships based in reality can dispel that myth rather quickly.  Platonic love does exist between men and women and true friends are hard to come by.  So why should our friendships be defined by our gender?  Friendship isn’t about body parts.  It is about finding people also roaming on this planet who share a common thread.  They have the same likes and dislikes and understand how you work.

The archaic history of male and female relationships was based on a man and woman only relating to each other in their matrimonial home.  Times have changed.  Men and women can be friends….and very good friends.  Don’t let other’s interject their opinions into your friendships.  Break down the barriers, chisel through the ancient beliefs and regardless of the x or y, keep your friends close!

Motivation in my nation

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I’ve finally realized what has been missing this year, apart from a clean bill of health – I need a mantra – a string of words that I can repeat to myself to keep motivated while passing through this adventure called life. It’s interesting to take some time to think of what would be appropriate – what is going to inspire me on a daily basis.

After thinking about what could be my own personal mantra I finally settled on something that resonated with me: “Feed your mind, nourish your body”.

After all of the changes I’ve made in my life over the last two years this one really strikes a chord with me. From losing weight and learning how to properly feed my body, ending relationships that were toxic to me to starting this blog, it all seemed to fall into place. My body was craving the proper nourishment I was depriving it of and my mind was craving the attention of a myriad of words and ideas. Solved – feed your mind, nourish your body.

It’s such a simple run of words but something I can repeat to myself that will keep me focused on what has become most important to me as an individual. I now have it written on my fridge so if I feel I’m getting off my course it is there to remind me of where I was 24 months ago and where I am now.

Maybe you’ve always had your own mantra or maybe you’ve never even thought of the idea but it’s a simple thing to do, it costs no money and could potentially drive you to accomplish more that you thought possible.

If you already have one, I’d love to know what it is – and if you’ve never thought about it, give it a try. It may make a big difference in your daily life.

Taking my own advice

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I give excellent advice – to anyone other than myself.  I have many people ask my opinion and they feel very comfortable getting into very personal matters.  They trust my discretion and they know my words come from a place of empathy and understanding.  I’ve had many people over the years tell me that I should have been a Social Worker.  I have a great ability to listen and to give thoughtful and meaningful opinions or just listen when necessary.

I’ve learned over the years that I can dish it out, but I can’t take it – my own advice, that is, but today I listened to my gut and went to the walk-in clinic.  I know I’m sick when I willingly sit in a waiting room with a multitude of people with the same symptoms I have for a chance to feel better.

After the obligatory three hours between waiting room, exam room and lung test I was given my diagnosis as well as a prescription for some very strong antibiotics.  My seemingly benign flu had morphed into Pneumonia and the doctor was concerned that I had a lung infection as well.  A simple test proved that the lung infection was non-existent but Pneumonia is a big enough hurdle to jump over.

Learning to trust my gut when it comes to personal matters is going to be on the forefront of my goals for the new year.  I didn’t, and still don’t, feel as sick as I am but I’m certainly glad I followed some sage advice today and got myself to the clinic for a professional diagnosis.  I would have told everyone else to get to the doctor, but it took a nudge from a friend or two to take the advice I would have freely expelled to anyone else and get the help I needed.

If you are great at giving advice….take a moment and see if you are following your own wise words.  It was a good lesson learned for me today.