Category Archives: Humor

CRASHED!

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My computer crashed. It had been doing funky things for a month or so, but I just thought it was being finicky. I tried to get it fixed with no luck and in the end I lost everything. It was a nightmare…for me. I was left to grieve (and shout) why, why, why? It was like a sudden death that I had to mourn, and I missed it like an old friend. Sadness shrouded me. I finally said my goodbyes and tucked it away in my closet like an urn. I know I will revisit it from time to time. Sadly, I may even try fruitlessly to revive it again some day (or maybe just let it go.)

So where do you begin when three years of your past are tucked away on an irretrievable hard drive somewhere in Never Land? I hate endings and change of any kind. New beginnings seem so daunting to me. Trying to figure out where to even begin was a chore. Because of financial tribulations, I was not able to immediately run out and purchase a new computer. I was left to borrow this one and that one and try to do what I had to do at everyone else’s convenience. It sucked. I let my writing go South for a while, on a vacation so to speak. But I missed grabbing my computer when a random thought appeared in my brain. I missed sitting in my bed at night pouring out my heart on the keyboard to no one in particular. I know some important thoughts, to me that is, went by the wayside.

But then I was given an “all-in-one wrapped into one gift (Mother’s Day, birthday, etc.)” by my lovely, generous daughters. It was super exciting. (Since I thought I was getting Sephora eye liner!) But it was different – the look, the feel, the boxes floating in and out and up and down. The screen jumping around, and me, an aging dinosaur, trying to figure it all out. Wait, where did my document go? How do I get back to that screen? AAAHHHHH!!! What it this contraption?!?!? Where was my good old computer with my old way of doing things?! It took some doing…some discovering of new tricks, and it’s getting less challenging every day. This aging dog is finally learning some new tricks. And it’s kind of exciting to see what the future holds, and I’m so grateful to be back in action.newtricks2

I hope you guys didn’t get bored and impatient and go somewhere else. I hope you’re still checking out my site from time to time. ‘Cause I’m back to share more Tales from My Heart, with so many exciting new adventures to come.

And I’ve been assured that what I have on this computer will automatically go to a Cloud somewhere in the universe where, should something like this happen again, I’ll be able to retrieve what has been lost. That is mind-boggling to me. Way cool! I can only hope.

 

 

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STEEL DRUMS IN THE SNOW

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thPH0E6G0II get into my car this morning to move it out of the street so that the plows can come through to clear this bloody six more inches of snow off the streets.  Did it REALLY snow AGAIN?!?  Seriously?!?! To add insult to injury, the radio is blasting Margaritaville, and it somehow seems so wrong that Jimmy Buffet is singing about tropical drinks on a hot, sunny palm tree-lined island while I’m stuck in this deep freeze in New Jersey. I mean, this is the gazillioneth storm of the season, and it’s just, well, sad. I can almost cry.

Last week I was basking in the warmth of 60 degree temperatures as I walked along in the park with Bella, seeing actual flocks of robins picking at the ground.  I had to pinch myself I was so happy.  I thought about finally putting away all that heavy winter clothing along with my snow boots.  I thought about taking all my light, fun, summer clothing out.  I was actually giddy at the thought.  I considered driving to the beach to walk along the sand. Daydreams aren’t always kind. Little did I know that cruel Mother Nature had yet another surprise in store this week. I woke up to the ring of the phone.  Another snow day closing.  What?!  Huh?!  I look outside and AAARRRGGGHHH.  The expecting dusting turned into an avalanche.

thZMAE77HFThe surprise of Margaritaville on the radio was just another zing…to the moon, Alice…kind of dig.  How dare you throw me back to sunny Key West, Jimmy, when I’m stuck in this down-feathered jacket with these awkward chukka boots as I shovel and trudge through yet another pile up of the white stuff.  You are just too cruel!!! You’d never find your lost shaker of salt in this deep white mess!

Spring is on its, way.  Honest. Really, I just know it is. I promise you that I heard the sweet sounds of birds chirping in the early morning last week through the crack in my window. We just have to be patient a little while longer. It will happen.

Besides, who says you can’t drink Margaritas in the snow?thJ5E90RBT

HOPELESS ROMANTIC

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Yesterday afternoon was chilly and stormy, and I got to do what I love best on a day like that – curl up on the couch with a blanket and watch an old (1995) romantic comedy. Honestly, nothing is better than that for me. I’m very low maintenance.

fk2I was lucky enough to come across one of my old favorites.  I hate to call it “old.”  I prefer the word “timeless.”  The movie was “French Kiss” starring Meg Ryan (of course – she seems to be in all my timeless favorites) and Kevin Kline (as opposed to the usual favorite Tom Hanks).  In this movie we have a headstrong, conservative “have life all figured out and organized the way she wants it to play out” Kate and a scruffy, rough-around-the-edges, living life on the edge Frenchman, Luc.  Kate’s planning her wedding as her fiancé Charlie flies off to France on business. While there, he meets and falls in love with a sexy little French kitten, and a monkey wrench is thrown into everyone’s plans. (I love animal metaphors.) When Kate flies out to win Charlie back, she meets Luc and is instantly repulsed by him, of course.  Well, this happens and that happens, and one thing leads to another, and yes, you know the ending…her life is turned topsy-turvy, and she ends up falling madly in love with Luc and living in a stone house on a hill with a breath-taking view of the French wine countryside where they live their lives in the end cultivating their fk3own vineyard.  Heavy sigh….

I love crap like this…I really do.  Nothing warms my heart more than watching the intricacies, however predictable, of human nature where life doesn’t work out the way you planned but love conquers all in the end.  It’s what I live and breathe for.  I guess I can be labeled as one of those crazy, hopeless romantics.  But I just can’t let it go.

Life hasn’t worked out the way I planned, indeed.  But I know my twisted turn of fate is coming soon where I’ll meet “the one” across a crowded room (I’m obsessed with that scenario), and I’ll live happily ever after. Until then…there’s always the Hallmark channel…and I think “Sleepless in Seattle” is on this weekend. 🙂 Time to grab my blanket!

If you have a moment, take a listen to some of the songs in movie, including my theme song by Van Morrison, “Someone Like You.”

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME???

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I am, with good reason, not all that anxious to get back into the dating game.  It’s been many moons since I’ve had a first date.  Most of the time I’m pretty content being alone, but there are times when solitaire leaves a lot to be desired.  Let’s just say that I’ve known lonely. Fact is, I haven’t really met anyone who sparks that little indescribable something that makes a heart go pitter pat.  Sometimes I feel like I’m at the end of my romance rope, and things like that are over for me.  It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.

But I have to admit that I hope, at times, that I would just naturally meet someone across a crowded room.  My daughters insist that only happens in the movies and not in the “real world.” I admit that I watch way too many romantic comedies involving Tom Hanks. So my girls kept pushing me to go on a dating website that will remain nameless.  I only reluctantly agreed because it was offering a cheap one-month special wherein I had nothing to lose.  What was I thinking?!?dating

At first there were a lot of over-seventy types trying to throw me a line.  I mean, I know old age is catching up with me, but I don’t want it crawling all over me, too! One of them was an Aristotle Onassis-type in gold sunglasses and jewelry sprawled across his very large boat/yacht in a very small swimsuit (gag) calling me Princessa. Another looked close to eighty with huge old-fashioned glasses and a ball cap inscribed with “FBI” sitting in a recliner in a rumpled shirt. Wow, hold me back!  But, mister, really, there’s a new invention called an iron…especially if you’re posing for a picture meant to attract the opposite sex!  Still another put a succession of photos up insisting that although he was 75, his friends said he looked 55 (not by these pictures, buddy) and that “everything” was in working order.  (Are you kidding me…I mean, seriously?!)  I guess to them I am considered the younger woman, which is flattering in a way, or pathetic in another, depending on the way you look at it, or maybe they’re just looking for a future caregiver in more ways than  one.  Maybe if I were attracted to someone around that age, it wouldn’t be an issue.  But really?!?

There were a couple of “age appropriate” gentlemen (term used lightly) who messaged me, but I just wasn’t that into them.  There was a flirty man who had his dog talk for him since I am animal lover, but when I messaged him back with my dog doing the talking, I never heard from him again.  Yes, it is all weird, trust me.  Recently, actually the day before this one-month special deal was ending, I finally had two men simultaneously email me whom I found interesting.  One was attractive in a sweet way, who had kind eyes and looked harmless.  The second was a hot dog posting 15 narcissistic pictures of himself in various poses along with his motor cycle and bike and wearing various outfits from swimsuits to Halloween costumes.  The latter I recognized as a local professional whom I’ve dealt with.  He didn’t seem to recognize me, which is good.  But his emails were quirky, and I couldn’t help but quirk back. Then, since he was also new on this website, he asked me how I was doing on it…meaning how’s the action?  Am I weird, or is that a stupid question to ask someone you might be interested in?  Heh, how’re you going here?  Is it full of action?  Do you think I can get some? (Ah, bye, bye, Birdie, on your not-so-hot motorcycle.)

The other kind-faced guy seemed warm and welcoming and innocent.  “Oh, why not?”  I decided after he had emailed me a few times, and I hadn’t answered.  I finally sent him a brief “getting to know you” email.  The next morning I got an email from him,  “Heh, thanks for the phone call.  Sorry I missed you, but I was outside working on my house, so please call me again and leave your number, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.” Ah, excuse me, but  I didn’t call you,  and you didn’t give me your number, not that I wanted it, knucklehead. You should try to keep your women straight, OK?!  I didn’t actually use those words, but when I sent him an “Oops” email that I wasn’t the one who called he wrote back, “I guess it was just wishful thinking that it would be you :).”  (Yes, he actually did put a smiley face at the end of the sentence.  Mr. Smooth, right?) Watch out for those innocent-looking ones…

Maybe I’m just plain gun shy, but I decided to delete the account.  I’m content, for now, to just keep looking across a crowded room.

P.S.  Sorry for the overuse of air quotes…it’s better than expletives :).

SLANG

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I was walking Bella at the park yesterday when two little girls ran up to pet her. They asked me first if they could, which is good because you don’t want your hand chomped on by an unfriendly pup.  Bella, of course, is a pushover…loves kids and people of all shapes and sizes.  I asked the girls if they had a dog.  Yes, the one answered, I have a boxador.  A what? I asked.  She repeated.  I said I’d never heard of that breed and asked what it looked like.  Sort of like your dog but different, she answered.  I thought a moment.  Oh, I commented, you mean a mix between a boxer and labrador?  Yes, she said.imagesCAUPJQIF

Boxador.  Isn’t that just another name for a mutt?  Or is it an actual new breed of dog like a Labradoodle or Puggle?  Aren’t these just fancy names for mixes of breeds we used to call mutts?  Yes, yes, I know, some are specifically bred to become those words, but it just sounds so pretentious to me.  Boxador…hmmm.

There are a lot of words of the “newer” generation that have come to really annoy me.  I heard the word “fantabulous” on a commercial the other day.  Fantabulous.  Really?  I guess I’m annoyed because when people use the word “fabulous” the word “pompous” rings in my head.  You’re fabulous.  I’m fabulous.  Barf much?  Now its like, if you wear these new over-priced shoes, you’ll look so fantabulous!  Eck…

Other words like “deliciousness,” grate on my nerves.  Why can’t you just say delicious?  Why do you have to add the “ness?”  What’s that all about?  Or “amahzing!”  Seriously?  Is that a level above amazing?!  “Excellante!”  What?  Do we have to reinvent language to sound cool?  I guess saying “cool” is “generational.” Now “generational” is a word that really gets on my last nerve, especially as I get older.  “Oh, well, that’s a “generational” way of doing things,” someone will say.  Why don’t you just be honest and come out with what you’re really trying to say?!  Generational means “old.”  I guess it’s supposed to be less offensive to the senior population to use that word.

I wonder if my parents were annoyed when we used words like “hip” and “groovy” and “super” and “cool”?  Maybe so.  I guess every decade has to come up with its own slang that will annoy the generation before…to name a few:

In the 50’s it was square, weirdo, chick, cool cats, cornball, gig

In the 60’s:  fuzz, gas, groovy, hip, non-conformist, bread, boob tube, acid, tune in, turn on, drop out

In the 70’s: dude, far out, sock it to me, real trip, drag, nerd, trippin’, downer

In the 80’s: bitchin’, duh, chill pill, barf me out, gag me with a spoon, gnarly, psych

In the 90’s:   bling-bling, ice, all that, crib, my bad, snap, score, sweet, sick

And now it’s: (besides the annoying amahzing, excellante, fantabulous and generational), pretty much, not, biotch, hot, awesome, shut up, what, really, you rock, wicked.  Not to even mention some of the social media slang: lol, btw, ur, etc.

It seems that as each generation evolves, a slang code must come with it. So don’t be a square, you weirdo. Learn to be a groovy non-conformist in finding a way to be a far out dude.  I mean, life is a downer if you don’t make it a trippin’ experience, so don’t gag me with a spoon by being a drag. Just take a chill pill, put on your bling and relax in your crib.  My bad to be such a biotch about the awesomeness of slang.  So I’ll pretty much just shut up and bask in my own amahzing generational fantabulousness. LOL.

REVERSE BUCKET LIST

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imagesMy brother and I were driving along when we came upon a car trailing an 18-foot boat with a Yamaha V6 200 HP motor on the back.  “What’s he doing with such a big motor on a little boat?” Ken asked. “He probably tows water skiers,” I remarked.  Then I added, “Another thing I would never do…water ski.” He said, “Yes, just add that to your reverse bucket list.”

Bucket lists.  Do you have one?  Some people like to list all the amazing things they want to accomplish before their lives are over.  Me?  My bucket list is in reverse.  It’s things I would never do in my life.  Yes, I guess I’m definitely not an adventurous girl. I was in my younger years when  I did some incredibly crazy stuff.  It’s amazing that I survived at all, really. As I get older I find that the bravery and daring I once possessed is now kind of going by the wayside.  Maybe it’s partly due to getting older and wiser and realizing that I really don’t want to do anything that’s going to cut my life even shorter than it already is as the tunnel of my future narrows. Maybe it’s just the realization that some things are just tempting fate with stupidity.

I don’t think my list of stuff I wouldn’t do is over-the-top silly as far as what most people would or wouldn’t do, but I thought it would be fun to name some.  So here is my Reverse Bucket List of things I will never do in my life:

  1. Swimming in the same waters where sharks live. This includes surfing, paddle boarding, spear fishing, water skiing and scuba diving.  I mean, have you seen all the “JAWS” movies?  Watch them and take notes.  Maybe then you will understand how and why I feel the way I do. I’m also not a big fan of the tuba or the keys of E or F that are played as the secret announcement of the appearance of this man-eating predator in the movies.
  2. Eating crickets or grasshoppers or any insects in any food product including chocolate covered.  All I can say is, “Yuk!”  I also won’t be a contestant on any “Survivors” shows mainly because of this insect-eating thing, but I know I don’t even have to expand on the why not’s of the reasons I wouldn’t be on that show. Not that they would ask me.
  3. Anything that involves extreme heights.  Hang gliding, parasailing, rock climbing, parachuting out of a plane, scaling Mt.Everest or the Matterhorn or even just looking down from the Empire State Building. All I can say is “VERTIGO!” I did go to the Grand Canyon once but spent the day in a cold sweat only briefly glancing at the spectacular views.  I mostly spent the bulk of the time browsing the gift shops in avoidance.
  4. Walking barefoot across a path of red-hot lava rocks. That’s a no-brainer
  5. Spending 20 hours on a plane to fly to Australia. I mean, I’d love to see the Great Barrier Reef and am very fond of kangaroos and all, but no, 20 hours in a plane just isn’t going to happen for me. Although maybe if I had the chance, I might rethink this one.
  6. Horror movies of any kind, but with an emphasis on anything involving chain saws, Freddie Krueger or dolls that come alive and murder people. I just lose too much sleep thinking about it afterwards, and sleeping on some nights is already a challenge without the adage of recalling blood-covered corpses. That’s a definite no.
  7. Attending any kind of heavy metal concert, if there is still such things, because I don’t really need my hearing to be impaired any more than it already is.
  8. Snow skiing.  First, I wouldn’t go up on a ski lift because of the height thing, and an added negative would be breaking my leg. Who needs that? I’m already taking calcium for my bones, thank you very much.
  9. Entering a hot dog eating contest…or pie eating….or anything where you gorge yourself for a prize and then throw up. This just doesn’t appeal to me in any way.
  10. Going on a cruise of any kind.  If I’m hauled up in a tiny room under sea level and then have to worry about the boat sinking, the old reverse bucket list number one fear of sharks is multiplied tenfold. I don’t care how good the food is.

This is just a sampling. Things are always cropping up from day by day.  You never know what I’ll avoid next.  I think nowadays if I really wanted to do something that was dangerously adventurous and daring, I might just skip my blood pressure pill for one night and see what happens. Whew!  Now there’s an adrenaline rush for you!

Would love to hear your comments on what’s on your own Reverse Bucket List…

 

 

 

 

 

SWEATAPHOBIA

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SweatingThe weather outside is frightening here in New Jersey, and if you live anywhere in the vicinity, you know I’m not talking about snow and ice. I mean, it…is…stifling! With the heat index making it feel like 103 degrees in the shade, even breathing this humidity-laden vapor is an effort.  Walking from your home to the car or vise versa is enough to generate a steady stream of sweat right down the middle of your back. You know what I’m talking about. I mean, sweating is just gross!

Right about this time of year is when I declare that I will NEVER complain about the freezing cold temperatures of winter EVER again.  But, as always, right about mid-January when the yearning for snow for Christmas has passed, I will start.  It’s inevitable. I mean, wouldn’t it be great to be bundled up in your cozy jacket as the temperature dips below 50 degrees right about now?  Let’s close our eyes and just imagine…I’m feeling better already.  Fantasy rocks!

My parents were fan people. (Sounds cult-ish, doesn’t it?) In my Mom’s words, they just didn’t “care for” air conditioning.   Don’t ask me why.  Instead, they insisted that the “breeze” generated from a few strategically-placed fans on each floor of our split level home was enough to create a cross breeze that would cool the entire house down. My Dad served in the army infantry, therefore, somehow became an expert in the field of fan placement. Did it work? Not so much. Plus, wanting to be heard over the roar of these appliances would require a megaphone, so not much talking went on in our house in the summer. I mean that house in August was deafening! Plus, I can still recall waking up drenched in sweat since the fan breeze thing just wasn’t doing it for me.  No wonder I spent most of the summer immersed in our neighborhood pool.

Now let me say two words that will fix this sweataphobia….air conditioning.  Let’s have a collective AAAHHH!…  Wikipedia defines air conditioning as the process of altering the properties of air (primarily temperature and humidity) to more favorable conditions.  All I can say to that is AMEN! Alter away!

Air conditioning.  What would we do without it? It belongs in the same category as the little things in life that we take for granted, so let’s have these sweltering temperatures be a reminder to be grateful for those little things in life that in reality turn out to be quite large. Things like the purr of that Trane compressor blowing out its cooling breeze across our steamy bodies as we cozy up for a long summer’s nap.

Give a shout out to that major appliance designed to change the air temperature to a comfortable 68 degrees. Hip hip hooray!

Keep cool.