I am alive and in Georgia!

Thank God, then internet man just left my home and I am online again. I didn't realize how spoiled I have gotten until I spent these last few days without a computer. All is well in the world again. The trip was long and tiring but we made it safe and sound. Everything is unpacked and it is starting to feel like home. I have my computer positioned in my bedroom staring out at the lake in front of the balcony. I feel like a damn princess!!! There is alot to be said for southern hospitality. Every single person who we have spoken with has been pleasant. What a change of pace. Money is rather tight, but all the bills are paid, and moving is outrageously expensive. Not planning on a major move anytime soon!! Still have much to do around the house so I am ending this on a short note. Welcome to the south!

Georgia Bound Baby!

Yup, Friday is D day. God, so many boxes. I have yet to pack up my trusty Dell. That is the last thing going in the truck. The excitement is unbearable. This time next week I will be gazing at my lake, saying Yes Ma'am just like all the local folks. Love it. My dog is going to be in canine heaven. All that land to explore, plus water. Forgive me for my lapses in blogging, but household duties abound. So this post is rather brief. I am getting the evil eye from my partner, he has been stuck doing most of the packing. Just checking in and letting anyone who reads my dribble that I am alive and well. Godspeed to me and mine!

When all the pieces fit just right

Some days I just wake up with a sense of peace that folds over me like a nice home-made quilt It is those days when you wake up and the coffee taste extra special, you open the kitchen window and the breeze is cool, not too cold. You turn on the radio and every song is a good one. The mail gets checked and not a bill in the bunch and the mailman is the one who brings your dog milk bones. When the phone rings it is calls from good friends with only pleasant news. No bombs fall on you. The man next door is back on the wagon, so you don't have to listen to the abusive screams resonating through the thin walls. When you are greasing the frying pan to make some over easy eggs, instead of grumbling, you are humming a tune. These are days I cherish.

Lazy boy

Why do men feel the need to own the remote and the recliner? Is it genetic? My father had a chair. He was a rather large man, and the arms on that lazy-boy were definitely broken. I remember him sitting there, with his remote in hand, delivering his latest lecture on life. I think it goes back to the time of Kings. The Throne. No, I am not speaking about the toilet. Every man wants to be king of his castle. Prince of his palace. All my husband needs is a crown and he is there. I guess my son is the court jester. Turns out in my quest to understand man and his need for a chair and remote, I spoke to many other woman and men. I am onto something here, yes indeed. Yup, I have a chair in front of my computer. It is no throne. Just a chair. Nothing special. My man? Oh yes, he sits on a throne. All is well in my castle until the king loses his remote. A cry emits from the man's chest similar to a war whoop! The troops are called in, (me) to make sure there are no insurgents (my son) sneaking around. So me being the wise queen tell the king he should rise from his throne and look under his buttocks. Aha, mystery solved once again.

Everything old is new again

After several months on the democratic campaign trail and a bitter battle, at least outward appearances, the young, charismatic man vs. the traditional, yet, politically seasoned woman, we have now come to where the rubber meets the road. The two forces have now joined to fill two very powerful seats in our executive branch. Hilary Clinton is a very smart and talented politician. I think if you gaze deep enough into it you will find that Bill Clinton has spent more time over-seas since he has left the presidents hat behind, to pursue humanitarian issues. So I asked myself are we really getting Hilary or Bill? The Secretary of State seat is the most powerful chair in the cabinet. Not only do they create and negotiate foreign policies, they also have the ear of the president. Again, who is really going to do the whispering in Obama's ear? Maybe Bill will whisper to Hilary?

Social Obligation

Baby showers, bridal showers, weddings and such. I am not of a fan of these events. I even remember feeling uncomfortable at my own baby shower. Why should all these people feel obligated to bring me gifts? The burden extends beyond immediate family. Nowadays they get lists of co-workers and other acquaintances. Maybe it is because the holidays are looming large, but somehow the art of gift giving seems to have gotten lost. It is expected. You must draw a name at the office, or be a social leper. That takes the joy out of giving to me. Gifts are an intimate item. Something special. Given out of love or the need to bring some joy into another's life. Not because it is good office policy. The best gifts are unexpected. They become treasures. I save cards, mementos. I am sentimental. When my mood becomes blue, those little gifts change the hue of my mood. Shopping under duress is not fun. It equates stress. The obligatory X-mas card list. Every year new names because you fear leaving someone out. Punking out and just getting a stack of gift cards. Where is the joy? This year I will be in Georgia for Christmas. My resolution is the people I love are receiving gifts. My friends are receiving gifts. The local food bank will receive a gift. That is it. Oh yeah, my dog is getting a ton of gifts. He receives his little treats and rawhides better than any being I know. This move is the best gift my family has received in ages. Oh yes, I think what started me thinking about gift giving is attending a friends shower for her upcoming wedding. She opened the cards and didn't read them. Just shook them, waiting for money or gift cards to fall out. Than she said, "Just kidding".. There is a truth in every joke.

Nicotine Fiend

Smoking is harmful to your health. Yet I continue to do it. It is expensive. A waste of hard-earned money. Puffing away as I type this. We, smokers, are the new social lepers. The signs are everywhere, the No Smoking ban is accepted without much fuss. I never thought I would see the day when you couldn't saunter into the local tavern and not light up. Oh, the times they are a changin'. The pharmaceutical companies are now pushing Chantix. It does have a rather decent success ratio. Just like all the other drugs, there is quite a long list of side-effects. I used to pay good money to be constipated and dizzy/lightheaded. Glad I don't have to worry about erectile dysfunction. It used to be suave to smoke. Now you are a pariah. Imagine James Dean with a nice patch on his shoulder. Not! Please go easy on the judgment when you see the clusters of people huddled in the rain, the smoke swirling around their exiled beings. Say a prayer, and remember, there was a time when that was the circle everyone wanted to be part of. Trendy. Fashionable. I'm in with the in crowd. We've come a long way baby! I think self-destruction is a personal issue. Depends on your method. Free will is a gift we all possess. What we do with that blessing is what makes each of us unique. Nicotine cravings call like the heroin monkey. The opiate demon and I made peace quite a few blue moons ago. Tobacco? When the automatic drip of the coffeemaker starts and I smell the aroma of the toasty roast, my hand start groping for that pack. Where the hell are my cigarettes? Dammit. "What? You ran out of yours in the middle of the night and smoked mine?" Great, fucking great! Sorry, I have to get dressed and go out now. I need a cigarette.