shards and soles.

The soles on her shoes weren't meant to tread on long stretches of terrain littered by sharp pieces of broken dreams. Not that she was supposed to be protected from feeling pain.  She was no pampered princess.  Her life was much much easier than millions of others on this planet, but she still had her life shards to contend with.... to walk on.  With unprotected soles.

She had felt pain.  Absorbed it too. She had felt the pain of many others and allowed it to absorb inside her as well, but for some reason this process didn't streetproof her to emotionally and physically deal with the messiness from her most recent life storm that had shredded her dreams.  

Not today anyways.  Not today.  Wrong shoes.  Broken dreams.

Some days, she wore the right footwear for the hike.  Other days, she wasn't thinking and grabbed the closest ones to the front door.  Even then, she usually could manoeuver the terrain.  This time however, when she got halfway down the road, she realized the bottom of her life weathered feet weren't protected.  Her shins and calves felt the heat of exertion too as the pain of new bruises forming on her soles hurt to take another step.  With no one to guide her through this unchartered area, her confidence sagged right along with her depleting energy. 

Enough shards.  Enough pain.  Go away.

There were times too when she was convinced  her footwear was proper because she had walked the road before.  It had been no problem.  There had been no shards, no broken pieces to detour.  But, there they were!  Broken glass from tumblers that once held champange toasts, chunks of concrete that had buckled up like burnt sugar on the sides of a cake pan, limbs which once held carefree tree swings littered the way.  Potholes and puddles of standing water slicked by oily remnants from dirty dishwater.  

Everywhere she turned, she saw tattered signs from her past littering the sidewalks.  Discarded records, books and trinkets given to her out of love.  Tossed away presents she had carefully chosen and wrapped.... given from love, often with a giddy bow tied around it that giggled....."he's going to love this!"  Wind-up toys laid on their sides, photos soddened by a rainfall of tears floated towards the drain, slipped through the grates, washed away........ Shards of a life shared only to be picked up and thrown into a garbage bag strong enough not to be punctured...thick enough not to bellow out the longstanding humour once shared and seemingly only understood by the two people the stuff matters to.  

My God, we could make each other laugh........ right across a crowded room.  Does he still have that in his life?  I can't imagine. 

The wind always seemed to heckle on the days she wore the wrong shoes.  It mocked her courage while it whistled familiar tunes once so dearly embraced during the spontaneity of a Friday night soft shoe after the kids were in bed.  No more.  At one time, the music melted away any harshness.  It fueled loving tangos.  Now, it mocks as it pierces her sense of failure.  She dances alone to her wedding song as it plays in the wind of a once familiar road now littered in dreams tossed out by the man she once believed in.  She once believed, when she danced with him to an Irish Heartbeat in a beautiful dress that made her feel like she floated on air.  

Their belief in one another lasted for a very long time after that magical day. It didn't matter what shoes she wore.  They walked together, helping each other to step over the sharp life pieces.  

"Oh, won't you stay
Stay a while with your own ones
Don't ever stray
Stray so far from your own ones
For the world is so cold
Don't care nothing for your soul
You share with your own ones..."

Van Morrison, Irish Heartbeat

________________________________

You know, some days are much easier than others.  Today isn't one of them.  This is the day I walked down the aisle in the right shoes towards the right man.  We said our vows.  We promised.  24 years ago today. we looked into eachothers eyes and said "I do."  Surrounded by family who loved and supported us, by friends who believed we were meant for one another, he kissed me on the lips and on the forehead. 

From here on in, I walk barefoot and rely on my inner soul to guide me.

(ps.  this was very cathartic to write.  don't worry about me...... it's all normal feelings and I'm working through them properly.....)

Bring down the Budget. Enough already!

Have you ever tried to drive on black ice? Have you ever tried to steer a car when its lost its grip? The thing about black ice besides not being able to see it in time is that you can traverse over it without many problems if you're aware of its potential existance. Its the anticipation of it.........of the danger a slim film of ice coating a road that helps the driver to react and respond to it differently than you would on a dry stretch. But all the awareness in the world....all of your multi sensory alertness can't predict the random time when the tires hit the ice at precisely the perfect pitch and sends the vehicle spinning out of control and careening into danger.

This is the analogy which surfaced in my head while driving to visit a client in his home yesterday over the backroads of this province. Not only do I always prepare myself as best as I can for whatever situation I am about to find myself in.......home visits can be like that........99 percent of the time danger free....1 percent of the time no so....... I realized that since late fall, I have been feeling like I have been driving along anticipating a huge patch of black ice, predicting I was about to spin out. Black ice driving is bloody stressful and zaps you of energy. Its the waiting for it, and the anticipation of it that just about does you in.....

Today, the black ice budget will finally be released. Today, the people of this province will learn how their elected leaders have decided to deal with the impact of the economic lay of the land. No one more than the people who work within its governmental infrastructure have been waiting, anticipating and trying to emotionally and financially prepare for it's predicted dangers.

Waiting is the bane of trying to "live in the moment...." Though you could argue that if you're feeling all the neck tension and sleep deprivation which often accompanies the waiting, you are most definatly living in the freaking moment. In fact "the moment" gets stretched out beyond the borders of normal time. It makes the MOMENT seem like an existential day with no exit. THIS KIND OF WAITING IS NO FUN.

I don't think that's what the gurus of mindfulness meant. No, they want you to BE ONE with the wait by sacrificing it to the surrendering Gods. Or maybe theres a specific fat fairy who hovers above the clouds waiting for an opportunity himself to earn his wings that you are supposed to channel. Maybe the fat fairy is supposed to swoop down while you slumber and take control of that nemesis MR WAIT by sprinkling it with rationalization dust and prayerful powders. I think the fat fairy got his walking papers. He's no where to be seen.

It's a Wonderful Life ain't it?

Waiting....ticktockticktockticktock.....when does the damn alarm go off??

There is no inner calm when one is in "wait mode...." I havent felt an inner calm since the rumours began to swirl last fall.........first like light snow flurries and then like a full on snowstorm.... And it wasn't like the rumours came out of no where. Some in fact were strategically placed and came with warnings whispered in hallways and seriously spoken of in meetings. Unkind, unhelpful, unmanaged, these rumours spread like patches of black ice, invisible to the eye but anticipated by the GUT. And when you've been told in confidence to "be prepared....be proactive....look after yourself.........GET the salt ready!!!!" Well, all you can do is try to do just that as well as wait....AS well as try to work in an environment that has lost its traction.

Reactive, proactive, responsive, submissive, sleep deprived....staying alive... in the waiting room. Will my number ever be called?

Today the majority of civil servants will drive across the black ice and carry on. Some however will have to manage the spin out. No one knows who will make it. No one knows who will land in the snowbank. No one knows who will be given a bag of salt to throw on the black ice before they drive over it and onto a new road in their personal journey.

It's the waiting that just about kills you........ and personally I am absolutely drained from its wicked ways. I am SO ready to deal with whatever comes my way today or in the fallout of this gloom and doom budget. Because you know what I've learned as I waited in the lobby of the RUMOUR MILL? I've learned that whatever happens, it may be the biggest blessing YET!

They have no idea how much emotional damage they have done. No IDEA! The loyalty gas tank is hovering on empty. There are only the fumes of trust left.

Now, can someone from the Dept. of Transportation please salt the roads? You guys are still around right?

rosie, rosie, rosie.........

Looks like Rosie O'Donnell is leaving The View. Yes, it's true. She's handing in her coffee mug and will not pass Go.

Not that I watch the show since it's on in the middle of the day....... in fact I don't think I'd watch the show even if I was home in the middle of the day. Whenever I have found myself home, however and have sat down to watch it, I was left unimpressed with their bantering babbling. It drove me crazy!! It seems to me though that Barbara's pet TV show got a big boost from allowing Rosie to join the buffet table daily this year, because......well......it's often been the lead story on the news that counts......Entertainment Tonight........ The dog fight between O'Donnell and Trump was one for the books. How pathetic. Why don't the two of them learn something from Saint Oprah and go open up a couple of schools.

I was a huge fan of the Rosie O'Donnell show a few years back when she hosted a variety show in the mornings. Home on maternity leave, sleep deprived and stuck on the couch nursing an insatiable (albeit very adorable) infant son who preferred little mouse naps over a long snorefest, there were days when an hour with Rosie O'Donnell and whoever her guests were was a saving grace. She was enthusiastic, bright, funny and played the role of excited host to a "T." She single handedly brought back the variety daytime talk show..........a la............OK..........I'm going to show my age here........... just like Mike Douglas and Merv Griffin. Music, comedy, a little soft shoe, and a gabfest chat with a famous or not so famous person.

I loved her quirks........her gushing of Broadway shows........her love of toys and treats........her over the top enthusiasm of her favourite reality shows.........her hilarious crush on Cruise and adoration of Barbra Streisand. She cracked me up. She seemed harmless and funny with her repetitive themes, songs and monologues.

Before she knew it......Emmy's were garnered, buzz was created, stars were clamouring to get on her show. A Rosie Doll was created to offset the Barbie craze and it sold out. She jump into the magazine competition pitting herself and her name against Oprah and Martha, and was keeping pace!! She was a huge hit because people could relate to her. She seemed like an inoffensive open book with a big heart who loved to give stuff away.

Then.......something snapped.........or maybe it was just too darn hard to play a role and not yourself.......(though at the time I didn't see it as a "role." I assumed I was watching the real Rosie) . All of sudden, everybody's bud turned a corner and ended up in a field of ongoing controversy. All of sudden, her big infectious laugh and supposed love of life....her schtick got her schtuck in the muck.

Barking at Tom Sellick about guns.........(well, I agreed with her, but she was completely over the top .......) and put Magnum P.I. in a corner with her blasting diatribe on gun control.

Then, Vanity Fair published an article about her tyrannical tantrums with the Magazine staff. Testimonials from these staff littered the article and it left a big black tarnish on a self created image.

All of a sudden............anger filled her sentiments...........her true colours? Who knows, but the anger and vitriol that has bellowed out of her in the past couple of years has been downright nauseating. I turned off and tuned her out.....like many others.

The mag folded, and Rosie went on to host cruises and lobby for gay rights all the while barking too loudly and offering up her opinion on anything and everything............ until the one and only maven of bogus news, Barbara Walters came a calling.

The View needed her..........but they needed the angry bitchy woman and not the facade. They wanted her to stir the pot, to be controversial. Unfortunately her sense of entitlement shown through. It was like she had a right to yell and shout out her opinions because........well........she was right and they were wrong or something. I don't know.

All year...........all we have read about Rosie is her rude tug of war with Trump which went from titilating initially to bizarre to baffling to boring to incessantly ridiculous. It was like watching two adult/children continually yell out......

"I know you are but what am I?" over and over and over again....................

Enough!! She's rude. Who needs a rude talking head TV host? They really are a dime a dozen these days and NONE of them are worth watching.

Well...................today, after slamming Rupert Murdoch (another friend of Walter's), Rosie is hanging up her cleats.

She needs therapy............or at least some happy pills, and a new taste of the real world.

hmmmmmmmm........ funny thing.......though you'd never in a million years find Rosie and Ann Coulter in the same room together, I think you'd find them on the same page in the dictionary under the word "Bully."

hanging up her skates, cleats, and dog collar

Revving it up for Hockey Night in Canada.
smooooooooth............

Yikes!

The Princess of Auto Parts, our national puck bunny, Belinda is heading home. No more cross dressing er...........I mean floor crossing.........no more political leadership romps across the country in a blue/red/blue/red Belinda bus. No more cold showers needed for old political hacks.

After 3 bizarre years of spray painting the political landscape with l'air du temps stink, Peter's squeeze tease is picking up her tiara, chucking her multi-coloured rah rah sticks, passing the "get women out to run for office" baton onto someone else, and assuming her inherent role of Princess Magna.

She wants to "spend more time with her children."

I have swamp land for sale in the Everglades.

I wonder how long it will take to appoint Mr. Domi to the Board of Directors.


Well...............at least she managed to get a bunch of nets purchased to ward off malaria. That's a good thing.

It must be very difficult to phathom the living a life of getting everything and anything or anyone you want, whenever you snap your manicured fingers but not be able to succeed in your life dream of running the country.

Instead, she will be a tiny blip on the political map.

Without ever having run for office, made a coherent speech, learned how to speak both official languages, complete any post-secondary studies or MAKE HER BLONDE MIND up which party she wanted to jump into bed with, Belinda will now assume the role of Executive Vice of a Multi-billion dollar international company. Ooooooo, I'd feel REAL secure if I had stock in that company.

Geesh..........

See ya at the local rink, Belinda.



cue background cheering...........................

what to believe..............

What I love about the autonomy of blogging, well writing in general really is that it allows me to write anything I bloody well want to. Not only that, I can complete a thought and a sentence without being loudly talked over. Sure, my point of view can be dismissed by the reader with one click of the mouse. Fine. But, I can lay out my opinion as linearly as I can even if it's just for my own benefit.

Blogging is not as all pervasive as other methods of mass communication. It's more intimate, more personal as well as one sided until (and if) comments are left to offer another view or another opinion. And, if someone leaves a nasty rude comment that I deem inappropriate, I can delete it and move on because it's my blog. My perogative......................

Unfortunately, the media is very difficult to turn off, dismiss and ignore. And this week, I'd like to turn it all off. Why? The Robert Pickton trial has begun in British Columbia. His heinous crimes are worse than Bernardo, Legere, and Olsen combined. If you havent heard about this evil man and the gruesome murderous acts he is accused of commiting, just take my word for it, it's beyond comprehension. And yet........

CTV has been "promoting" the trial for over a week like it was a CSI episode. They are inviting us to tune into the National news at 11pm to get all our updates on the trial with these "alluring" ads. It sickens me...................as I try to explain to my kids what the networks are "promoting" while they are watching some innocent TV show that's gone to commercials.

CBC Radio One not only has the updates during every top of the hour newscast, albeit with warnings just before they rail into the gore (at which time I am running around the house turning off the radios in all the rooms so my children don't have to learn any more details of it), they have also developed "angles" for interviews on forensic this and DNA that with experts during their morning, afternoon and evening shows. You may have turned on the radio in the morning to try to catch the local information and news (weather, school bus delays, updates etc) but be prepared to switch off at any time, because Robert Pickton is front and centre.

All newspapers have a gruesome eye catching photo and headline on the front page, and then have a "special section" devoted to the details.

Any online newsite you click onto will have a picture of the scumbag front and centre because he's intriguing??? I'm sure if you looked.........and it wouldn't take a lot of digging.....you could learn all the details which the court has banned from reporting on.

I have stopped reading newsites online................I have turned off the radio............I refuse to watch the TV news. My choice, I realize...................... and if you want to watch or listen.......if you have a driven desire to learn more, well then fill yer boots.

What I don't understand is why someone would want to pollute their brains with such vile descriptive violence? Is it some kind of thrill? Where does the curiosity for this stuff come from?

This particular story, along with a few others that seem to be in the news every single day has also generated a lot of questions in my head about the amount of lies and disceptions we are fed daily.....................stuff others with an agenda want us to believe. I find it very difficult to find my way as I filter through propaganda, spins, left leaning thought vs. right leaning thought, political correctness, fundamentalist finger pointing, poll inducing assessments, opinionated editorials, heartfelt testimonials, and emotional diatribe that makes up the majority of our media. I don't care which political planet you're from...........................we are all fed a lot of bullshit, and innuendo that more often than not reinforces our own take on the world.

WHERE is the BALANCE? DOES BALANCED reporting exist? Did it ever exist. I don't believe it ever has...........but who am I for YOU to believe? I'm just a lowly little blogger with an opinion.

Just like a horoscope, it makes sense to you by the way you interpret it. You can make a horoscope fit your day anyday!! How scientifically magical that is. The news is that way as well. If I'm a supporter of Stephen Harper, I can find many articles to support my point of view. I can even decide to only read those articles and dismiss everything else as lies. Same with any issue.
It leaves me confused and at times unsure as to where I stand on certain issues. What I try to do, if I'm interested in learning about a topic or an issue...........if I want to form an educated opinion, I try to read a variety of articles that reflect many angles. Easier said than done..... but I try.

'Cause the truth HAS to be in there somewhere...........doesn't it?

Not that I want a world that is black and white, right and wrong.....but it would be nice if I could at least trust something that I hear or read or see in the media because right now, not one politician comes out smelling fresh and not one journalist comes out unbiased......... integrity and honesty seem to have been flushed down the toilet and into the sewers.........polluting the rivers, which in turn is consume by the cows, which in turn produce flatulant methane gas, which as we all know is the major cause of global warming.......or not.

Gee........this was the fastest post I've written in weeks. I wonder why??

I will end this little bloggierant with a quote I found in the newspaper today. Not only did it make me laugh..........I BELIEVE it.....

"The very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common. They don't alter their views to fit the facts. The alter the facts to fit their views, which can be very uncomfortable if you happen to be one of the facts that need altering." Dr. Who.

Anyone going to watch Dubya's State of the Union Address tonight?

All consuming consumerism

I don't get it...............why would anyone in their right mind go shopping on Boxing Day? Sure, there are BIG sales to lure the lemmings back into the malls........we have a recycle box of flyers to prove it. But, you'd think people would have reached their satiation point. Enough already!

I had a tough time this year with all things plastic and blow upity found on the front lawns of tackydom. For some reason, I choked everytime I saw a display of over the top too much garishness blinking messages of materialism. That was a lot of gagging, because it seemed to me a Christmas lighting and ornamental virus hit like wildfire. It used to be that there were one or two off the wall eccentric families in the community who would cover every space and eavestrough on their homes, and then would have this fountain of twinkling lights glaring off their bushes and trees. It was funny..........an ode to the Griswolds. NOW? Whole neighbourhoods have gone blinking bonkers. These same people are lining up for Walmart's Boxing Day bonanza to purchase more zippy lights and blow up thingys for their classy collection. Whooooppeeee.............

This afternoon, I waited inside the mall for 15 minutes to pick up my son and husband at the movie theatre. It was the only reason I would ever set foot in there this week. However, it gave me a chance to gawk and wonder. The place was packed to the rafters with bag carrying sales seekers, looking for yet another great deal..........not to be passed up. Many of them looked like they were really enjoying themselves. What's with that? Maybe I'm in the minority, but I find malls even on a day in March when I would have it all to myself, repulsive. If I have to go in one, it is with a mission that has a beginning and end.......then I'm out of there. No loitering for me. But, I digress..........................these are my thoughts and questions while waiting my 15 minutes, watching the consumer crowds..............boxing it out.........

1. What's with high pointy heels and tight ass jeans complete with a winter jacket with fake fur that only falls just below the breasts? This is Canada people. It's freaking cold outside. Don't tell me this is going to keep you warm? It not only looks uncomfortable and potentially harmful, it seems to be a uniform and not original....... it makes 14 year olds look skanky. It makes 40 year olds look used up. Oh, wait a minute.........................it's the puck bunny uniform. It is truly Canadian................hockey rules!

2. Did every teenager receive a hair straightening device so that they can fakify a look of unique tartism?

3. Why didn't these kid's fathers ever tell them to close their mouths or they'll catch flies like my Dad did? Walking around with a stunned mouth open look is not attractive.........and yet methinks there must be a "how to flirt like a fish" book stuffed in every school locker in the kingdom I've missed reading about? Bone straight hair, dried out and unhealthy looking because of the goop and irons put to it, tight ass jeans, belly jackets and wonky high heels......not blinking............wide black liner eyed...........mouth open pouty like........... arrrrrrgh.........

4. Cell phones. Unbelievable. Are people afraid to be alone even in a mall? What the heck are they afraid to be missing? As people streamed out of the theatres, every other person seemed to be either dialing up, or checking messages, or turning it on. I saw 10 year olds walking by talking on their little flippy compacts. To me, the whole cell phone craze is the epitome of consumerism gone bonkers. I understand the connection to business or the need for a kid to have one if they live in a large city and must commute to school or some situation like that. Safety and business. But, why does a 12 year old need a cell phone to talk to THE 12 year old FRIEND WHO IS WOBBLING ON THEIR SKANKY HIGH HEELS BESIDE THEM?

5. Why are kids allowed to wear such ridiculous get ups, complete with skin stretchy mini skirts and little strappy undershirts, black leggings and pink bras with the straps showing? What message are we giving to these children that dressing like a whore is acceptable.............?? It's beyond me.

6. Why does someone need 25 sweaters? Or every Ninetendo game out there? How come SO many people can afford those game systems? Where does all the plastic go when it has reached it's expiration date? Have we reached our consumerism limit? How much more waste can we generate?

Good thing I was only in the place for 15 minutes. I think my head would have popped off if I had stayed any longer.................