You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2012.

I get that a lot. I am one those women who carries my cell phone in my bra. It drives my daughter crazy, but I have a good reason for it. I am right-handed, so I carry it just above the left breast under the bra so it is easy to get to. I am large enough that nobody can tell I have my cell phone there. If I was smaller I am sure I would get a lot of strange looks from people trying to figure out what the heck I have growing out of my breast, but that isn’t a problem for me. It is easy to get to, quick to answer, and I don’t have to worry about having to fish it out of my purse, which would mean I would never hear it first off and then I would never find it, as my purse is a vast cavern of storage space that things mysteriously get lost in. You know like a black hole, a vortex, or something of the sort.

I do have a good reason though for carrying my cell phone in my bra. It is a matter of securImageity. You might be asking what type of security? Doesn’t anyone come near my chest or what? No, it is security for if someone steals my purse. I was watching the news many moons ago and this 70-year-old lady had been mugged and the only thing that saved her was she kept her cell phone in her bra so after the guy got her purse and ran off she was able to pull her phone out and call 911. She was in a remote enough area that it would probably been several minutes to a couple of hours before anyone would have found her, but because she had her phone they found her immediately. She said that the guy had no idea she had a phone hidden, so he just took what he could grab and left. I got to thinking that was a great idea. No matter what happens to my purse, I will always be able to call for help.

I have gotten some grief over where I keep my phone. I have been in front of guys who have seen me digging out my ringing phone and made the comment that, “Your boobie is ringing,” or other comments on that order. I just agree and laugh. Sometimes I will go into the story of why I do it if I think they deserve an answer or I just drop the subject. Sometimes people just don’t deserve an explanation…LOL.

Before I switched phone cases I used to also keep a couple of bucks in my phone case so I could not only call 911, but I would also be able to get something to eat or drink while I was waiting for help. See, good idea isn’t it? The only time people can really tell my phone is there is if it lights up for some reason and in low lighting you see my boobie glowing, which would be an indicator that I was hiding something under my shirt other than my “girls.” For years most women have been carrying their money, credit cards, ID, or such in their bras, so why is it such a far fetched idea to carry your phone? Especially, if you have one of those thin ones that are virtual undetectable. I think it is a good idea anyway.

I heard last year where some plus size model was working on a whole line of bras with a special pocket in them for your phone. She is apparently rather well endowed and carries her phone in her bra also. For some reason though she thought she needed to make a pocket in the bra for the phone, which I don’t really understand. That seems to be adding an extra obstacle to getting your phone out easily. You would have to first off be able to push your phone into this special pocket and then when it rings try to pull it back out. There are times in the summer especially when I get a bit sweaty that my phone tries to stick and then I end up having to pull really hard to get my phone out, which can be a bit embarrassing mattering on who is watching, but could you imaging having to try to dig your phone out of some pocket hidden in your bra. It seems like it would look like you were trying to play with the girls, when in fact you are just trying to pull out your phone. I mean that could look really bad mattering on who is watching. I could seeing explaining to your family that you got arrested for illicit behavior in public when you were just trying to pull you phone out of your bra. That would be interesting in the least. Till next time….


When I first started this blog I had a lot of posts that related to the “girls.” For you who don’t know who the “girls” are, well it is that somewhat matched set of body parts on a woman’s chest that come in as many sizes and shapes as there are women. Personally, I am quite well endowed. I wear a 48J, yes they come that big and even bigger. I think one of the largest cup sizes that you can buy fairly easily is an M cup, but now that one of the main custom fit bra companies went out of business last year after they bought the rights, patterns, etc. to all the competition, it is more difficult than ever to find a decent fitting bra if you are larger than the normal girl.

Okay, so back to the “girls.” I have wrote posts on bras, the fun of trying to keep the girls out of people’s way, especially waiters who try not to hit them with a plate and then get embarrassed when they accidentally brush one, to the inevitable crumbs down the cleavage no matter what you do. My post today is about making a date with the “Girls.” The date I would be talking about is for your mammogram. I admit it, I absolutely despise mammograms. I am only 51, but have had at least one a year for the past 13 years. I got started early as cancer is in my family, but not breast cancer, I am rather large, and not sure really why, but I have had a lot of them.

I think the worst mammogram I ever had was in 2008 and we were getting ready for the presidential election. The lady doing the test was adamantly against Obama; I was and still am against him but didn’t think discussing politics during medical testing is a really smart thing to do. The problem was she was in a talking mood and waited until she had me stuck in the machine with no way to get lose and started telling me why Obama was bad for America. I did agree with her, but this machine was squashing the crap out of my boobie, I am stuck, and I just want to get out of there. I just said, yes, yes, yes, and waited for her to finish her rant and let me out of the machine. I swore after that to never get a mammogram anywhere near close to any major political or world event. Last thing I want is to be is stuck in a machine in a rather compromising state and in the middle of a discussion I really don’t want to be a part of.

The real reason I was writing this post was to remind all those women and men out there that before the holidays hit you need to schedule your mammogram. If you are 40 or over and haven’t had your first mammogram talk to your physician and see if it is time to start getting them. Early prevention is the best way to keep your girls intact, and it really isn’t that bad. Having a mammogram is extremely better than getting a tooth pulled or even going to the dentist, but not sure that is the best tactic for getting people in for their mammogram. I saw a billboard the other day that said “Make an appointment with the girls,” and it was advertising for mammograms. I really liked that. I mean you make dates with your girlfriends, and the “girls” on your chest should get as much attention as your female friends do.

If you find yourself in a financial situation that a mammogram might not be in the budget go online and do a search in your area for low cost mammograms. There are too many programs out there to help with that. There is no reason anyone should go without a mammogram due to money, there are just too many resources out there to help you out.

So, this Sunday when you watch a football game and see the pink shoes, pink hats, pink socks, pink flags, pink, pink, pink, remember it is time to schedule your mammogram and make a date with the “girls.” I am sure there is a loved one in your life that will be glad you did. Till next time….

I had this bright idea to go to the “Millionaire Mind Intensive,” which is a seminar based on the book by the same name. It has a good premise in that we have a certain mindset and until we change that we are never going to see a change in our life. You know that whole thoughts are things sort of thing. If you think poor you will be poor, if you think rich you will be rich, or something of the sort. Things around the Lord household haven’t  been great financially for a while, but the downfall came last year when in April 2011 I had a left total knee replacement, ended up missing much more work than I planned, fell into a deep depression due to family and financial issues, blah, blah, blah…. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go see if this seminar could give me some pointers on how to change my mindset and change my life. Of course, it was one of those high hype; get everyone up and dancing to get them ready for the hype.

I was doing okay, kind of reminded me of some churches I have been in over the years, I was just glad no one started screaming in tongues or having an epileptic fit (sorry, I have no problems with charismatic churches, I actually pray in tongues, and I used to belong to several, but just have issue with stupid behavior in the “spirit” when that has nothing to do with it, but I am writing a book on that subject so will leave it at that), but we get towards the end of the evening and I ended up getting so upset I almost had a breakdown right here. It was called the “Let’s burn a $100 bill exercise,” in which we were suppose to really burn a $100 bill. The premise was you should rule money, not money rule you. They had these ushers up in the front with candles and trashcans and were getting everybody up in a line to go burn their money. I didn’t have a $100 bill, I just had a $20, but to me the thought of burning my last $20 was about more than I could take. I mean really, how was I going to put gas in the car to get home? How I am I going to get something to eat on the way home, as it was 11 p.m. and we hadn’t had dinner yet? Why the heck are we going to burn perfectly good money? Money should be respected. I felt like why would I up and burn this money here, when I sure wouldn’t do this at home? I almost told him he was an idiot and refused to do it.

We then all get up and are on our way to burn our money and at the last minute the announcer told us to go sit down, it was just a test. I was so mad I almost told him off. You get me so upset I am trying not to cry in public and then it is just a test. He then goes into his reasoning for the test. He said if we were willing to physically burn money there then we would be willing to figuratively burn money in the world. Oh, I forgot to mention there were rules to this exercise. We could not leave the room and could not change the bills out for different ones; you know like change the hundred for a twenty or such. I didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t leave the room, as that brought up bad memories of a church service I was in where the pastor made the ushers lock the doors until the congregation heard God and gave a better offering, but that is for another time. He then admonished the people who traded out their bills, as that meant they were frauds. He also really got onto the people who loaned other people a hundred so they could be part of the exercise.

I guess what got me so upset was I was looking at the exercise in a totally different light. To me if you are so tied to your money that you can’t let it go then how are you going to be able to freely give to others in need? How can you be a good steward of your money if you can’t let loose of it? The one lady in the audience not only gave another person a hundred to use, she told them if they felt they needed to burn it then feel free to. To me she demonstrated a true giving spirit. She knew she would never see the money again, but was okay with that if it meant the other person could get a breakthrough in their life from it.

She was the type that I would see in church that truly gave their money to those who needed it never asking for it back, never expecting anything in return, and certainly not expecting any applause for what they did. What upset me so was that I was so worried about losing a twenty that I had lost my ability to trust in a greater power to take care of me, for me that Is God. I used to be a selfless giver. If someone needed food I would give them what was left in my cabinets. If their lights were going to be turned off I would give them my last dollar, but after being kicked out of more churches than most people will ever attend, I guess I have become cynical, a bit calloused, and certainly too attached to what little I have financially at this point.

To me that was the lesson that should have been taught, not what the seminar was teaching, i.e. don’t throw your money away or burn it, use it to invest and make money… what the lesson should have been is you need to be willing to hear the small, quiet voice in your head that is telling you to trust and believe and have enough trust in it to truly burn that hundred dollar bill if it tells you and know it will be okay. I used to be able to do that. I used to be able to hear the voice, i.e. I heard God and did what He said, but must say a stupid exercise at a hyped up seminar actually helped me back on the road I needed to be on, not the road I expected, but you know that is how God works…in mysterious ways….till next time…

A few years back my youngest son brought me home a box. He handed it to me and when I look in it I see this red slider turtle. It looked like it had been out of the water for a while and wasn’t a very nice turtle to say the least. He said he had no idea what to do with it and didn’t want to leave it in the parking lot for fear it would get run over. I already had a red slider that we had gotten earlier in the year as a little baby and it had grown into an adult. We named him Bubba and he lived in his own tub. I decided that the new one would have to have its own tub also, as I didn’t want to invade Bubba’s turf. The new one ended up with the name Biggun, as I really wasn’t going to keep it and so refused to name it but since it was so much bigger than Bubba it ended up with the name Biggun. Kind of like the cat I called Fitty because she was a fitful kitten I wasn’t going to keep and did, so the name just stuck. Against my better judgment I kept both the cat and the turtle.

The other day I had the great idea that both turtles would work great in my big empty 55 gallon glass aquarium. The fish that used to live in was an Oscar that had gotten to over a foot long and was one big fish, but decided to attack and eat its thermometer one day and of course got mercury poison and died. I was rather sad about that as we had gotten him when we moved into our house and we have been here 7-1/2 years now.

Okay, back to the turtles. I figured that since it was neither turtle’s home they would get along fabulously and I could get rid of all these extra tubs. I took both turtles and put them in the aquarium at the same time, different sides of it and for about a week things were good. They sat together and actually looked like they might even like each other. The problem came at the end of the first week when I hear all this commotion and look over and see the bigger turtle face to face with Bubba, but I could not figure out where Bubba’s head was and he was upside down being flung up and down by Biggun. It took me a minute to realize what was going on and then I ran over there and saw bits of turtle skin everywhere, could not find Bubba’s head and proceeded to get the fish net and get them separated. I finally figured out that Bubba’s head was in Biggun’s mouth and that was how he was flinging Bubba up and down. Needless to say I was freaking out wondering if Bubba was still with us or had gone to the big turtle pond in the sky. Much to my relief Bubba was fine. He was missing a little bit of skin around his neck, but was more than happy to be back in his own tub. I was very upset with Biggun, but he is an alpha turtle, so what do you expect.

Now that both turtles were back alone in their own tubs I felt kind of sorry for Biggun. I thought he looked lonely swimming around in this big old tank all by his lonesome so went to the pet store and asked the fish guy if turtles ate little minnows and he told me some do, but even if he didn’t it would give him something to do. The guy was right, Biggun has now shown me that he is really not the smartest turtle in the tub or the brightest light in the lamp or even the sharpest knife in the drawer. I looked over there the other night and here he was with his little turtle legs sticking straight up in the air and he was standing on his head stuck between his lounging rock and the side of the aquarium thinking he can catch one of the minnows. I mean really. He finally gets himself unstuck and then tries to climb over the lounging rock down to the fish that is hiding in the cave under the rock formation. There is no way Biggun and his shell is going to get anywhere near the fish, but he is just a trying. Seems like every time I look over there is he is either standing on his head, banging into the side of the aquarium making the dogs bark, or some other strange act of acrobatics trying to catch these fish. I must say it has kept him busy and entertained. He is very easily amused, but then what does that say about me, as I am the one sitting there laughing at him being a goofy turtle…hmmmm…till next time.

ImageAbout three weeks ago I did something that I would not recommend to anyone, I quit taking my happy pills. This is normally not a smart thing to do, especially just cold turkey. Normally you need to ease off the things and then finally quit taking them. I was tired of pills and just not feeling right, so said what the heck and stopped taking everything but my little purple pill for my tummy. I don’t enjoy the atomic fire that burns up my esophagus when I don’t take that one, so figured it could stay. I guess now that I have had time for the antidepressant to get out of my system I actually can feel again. I think I finally understand what my one child tried to tell me for years as to why they did not want to take their pills for their mental issue. I wasn’t crying all the time when I took the pills, but I also just wasn’t feeling anything. A situation would happen to me and I would think it deserved at least a few tears or a reaction of some sort, but I just didn’t feel anything. I wouldn’t say that I was a zombie, but more of a who cares attitude. I admit when I went on the pills a few years back after my mother passed away I couldn’t even function. I would sit and cry for days for absolutely no reason. You could look at me cross eyed and I would start crying. I didn’t want to work, take care of the house, nothing. Going on the pills at that time was the best thing I could do.

I had tried earlier in the year to go off my pills and had major mood swings, so figured I needed to stay on them. I am not sure what the difference is now,  but I am actually feeling like myself again after stopping the pills. I am sure if the doctor knew what I did she would be having a fit and I am not against going back on them if I have to, but right now I am enjoying feeling like myself again. I am actually wanting to wear jewelry and makeup again. I have never been one to wear much of either, but am have dug my bracelets and earrings out of the closet and wearing them again. I am just enjoying the ability, good or bad, to tell how I am suppose to feel about myself and what is going on around me.

I do feel that there are too many people being put on antidepressants that really just need some exercise, counseling, change in diet, whatever to help them get out of their funk. There are too many people being put on pills that just need some alternative methods of treatment. I am not saying that someone who was in the position I have been in the last few years shouldn’t be put on medication, there are points in which a person needs help to get out of their funk before they are destroyed by it. I was never to the point of suicide, but there were days I thought it would be better to pass and go to heaven than to keep living on this earth. I also got to the point that I couldn’t even work. I would sit in front of the computer and could absolutely not make myself type. I would stare at the screen and know what I needed to do but just could not make myself do it. I just could not explain to anyone exactly how I felt, other than those people who have depression and understand completely.

When a person is in the state I was in medicine is a very good options and sometimes what needs to be done to make a person to where they can actually function and contribute to society. For a couple of years a very good friend of mine had gotten to where she would not answer my emails, my phone calls, whatever. I asked her why and she said she was in hermit mode. I never understood what she meant by that until one weekend I finally drove down to see her and she explained it. She gets to where she feels safe in her little world she has made in her apartment. She doesn’t have to deal with people and try to explain how she feels. Once we talked I understood completely how she felt. That place a person gets when they are deeply depressed where you just don’t want to talk to others as you just cannot put into words how you feel. There just doesn’t seem to be a way to explain exactly what is going on other than leave me alone and I will be fine. I probably won’t be fine, but at least I don’t have to try to explain to you why I am not okay. I don’t have to try to explain what is going on in my head to someone who has no idea. Depression is such a lonely and debilitating disease and is so hard to explain to those who don’t have a clue.

Like I said in the beginning, no one should just stop taking their pills like I did. The situation could have gone two ways, I could right now be on the psych ward from a major breakdown or doing okay. I got lucky and am actually doing okay right now. Not sure how tomorrow is going to be, as we are taking this one day at at time, but right now am enjoying the ability to feel again and hope it continues. If you find yourself in a deep dark place please seek help or talk to someone, as depression will take a hold of you and drag you so far down that you feel like you will never be able to surface again…till next time…

I have to admit just a few months ago the last thing on my mind was marijuana. I liked the show Weeds, have heard about medical marijuana, and have a couple of relatives who have found partaking helps them control their mental issues. I personally have never smoked or used marijuana in any form. I was one of those teenagers who tried my best to stay completely out of trouble, out of the sights of any type of authority, I wanted to stay invisible. I was the one that none of the school principals even knew who I was, good or bad. I never skipped school, didn’t drink, married my first and only boyfriend, and to this day have only said the F*** word twice in my entire life. I am sure you are asking why I am mentioning all this, well a few months back my husband and I found DFWNorml through his cousin. They are a group that is a local branch of the Norml group that is working towards the legalization of marijuana for medical uses and the lowering of the time of incarceration for the possession of marijuana. I completely agree with their platform on this subject.

What many people do not realize is that the marijuana plant is basically 2 parts. You have the plant itself, which is hemp that has 100s of industrial uses. I have fabric that is a hemp blend that I make purses out of. Hemp is used in ropes, garments, etc.; basically it is a very economical plant that should be legal. It is the buds of the plant that is used for smoking, cooking, making into oil, etc. I had no idea. For years I thought there was a hemp plant and a marijuana plant, but this is incorrect. This though has nothing to do with why I agree with Norml. Many people have asked why I support the cause when I am not a partaker of the substance. My point is you don’t have to partake to believe in the cause. I know many people who need marijuana to help them with their medical issues. They daily have to make the decision whether they are going to break the law or have a better quality of life… pain free, mentally stable, ability to eat without being sick, etc.

Why would a person want to fill their bodies full of prescription toxins when they can smoke a little weed and feel good. No more disabling mood swings. The ability to live life without wanting to punch everyone they see. A cancer patient being able to actually enjoy their life again, free of intractable nausea and vomiting, without using all types of prescription pills that either do not work or have so many side effects you might as well not take them. There are so many people out there who are on “happy pills” that are doing them more harm than good, but if they could legally use weed not only would they feel better, they could live a more productive life. The big problem is the pharmaceutical companies do not want weed legal. Think of the millions of patients they would lose. When it comes down to it they don’t care if their pills make people better, they just want to keep people sick and addicted to their pills so they can keep making more and more money. It just does not make sense to me.

I also agree with their attempt to lower jail times for those who are caught with weed. There are criminals doing life terms in jail because of marijuana and murders who are walking the streets after a couple of years. How does that make sense? If given the choice I would rather be with someone who is mellow from smoking a bit of weed than a hostile drunk. I have known many drunks over the years who are both physically and mentally “mean.” How many children are left with an alcoholic parent, but are taken away from a parent who partakes in a little weed now and then? I would rather have a parent who smokes pot than a belligerent drunk. The courts make parents take drug tests to see if they are fit enough to keep their kids, but they don’t make parents take a breathalyzer or blood test to see what their alcohol level is. I am sure this is because the tests for alcohol are only good for a short window of time, but marijuana stays in your system for weeks. I have personal experience with alcoholics and believe me no one should have to grow up in a house with an alcoholic, but in the eyes of the law that is okay. Does this make sense to you? It sure doesn’t to me.

The first DFW Norml meeting I went to a couple of younger men were laughing about how it would be funny if someone came to the meetings who didn’t smoke pot. I didn’t tell them I was that person, but just because I do not partake doesn’t mean I don’t agree with your beliefs and want to be an activist for your cause. A person doesn’t have to be directly involved in an activity to be able to see the good in the organization and their platform. So, just because you see me in a Norml shirt, at a fundraiser, or some other activity related to the Norml cause, don’t tell everyone we are all just a bunch of potheads… because we aren’t. If you start checking your facts, really looking at the cause, you will see that we aren’t all a bunch of pot heads just wanting marijuana legal so we can sit around and smoke all day, we are working for the rights of medical patients to be able to have a better quality of life, making sure people don’t spend their life in jail over an ounce of pot, or any other injustices out there related to marijuana. Quit judging and starting researching and you might just be at our next meeting fighting beside us for the cause…. till next time…Image

****This is just thoughts from my eclectic mind. Any resemblance to persons living or passed is just a coincidence.**Image**


I saw a picture of you today. You looked good. You looked happy. It looks like life is treating you well. I guess I don’t ever cross your mind anymore. I am told by family and friends to let you go. When the time is right you will make your move and let me know you want to come back into my life. Doing that is harder than one would think. The rest of the family refers to you as the “one who shall remain nameless” or say when asked that they don’t have a brother or son. I can’t do this. I am your mother. I gave birth to you. I watched you grow. I was there for your first steps, first day at school, and watched you grow into the man you are now. I admit along the way I made mistakes. I was a young mother trying to figure out how to be a wife, mother, breadwinner, etc. I was being told by so many people how to take care of you and your siblings, what I should and shouldn’t do, but did the best I could do with what I was given. I am sure you feel there were things I could have done differently. I wish I had done a lot of things different, but I always loved you and wanted the best for you. When we had our issue that caused you to decide to cut me out of my life I thought that we would give it a week and things would be good. You know, families have issues. We argue and say things we shouldn’t, but then things blow over, we say we are sorry and life goes on. Problem is the days turned into weeks which turned into months and now into years.

There is not a day I do not think of you, wonder how you are doing, what your plans are in life. Wonder if your job is going good or if you are even at the same place you were when you told me you weren’t sure if you ever wanted me in your life again. That day cut me deep, scarred my heart, and has left a void I have no idea how to fill. It is like when a loved one dies and no matter what you do there is always going to be an empty place in your heart, your life, your soul where that person was, and that is the way I feel about you. I have tried to let you go, let you live your life and try to be like others who seem to have been able to write you off and go on and live their lives. I wish it was that easy. I hope your life is what you wanted. Do you ever think of us? Do you ever pick up the phone and think about calling, texting, sending us a message? On Mother’s Day did you think about contacting me? I thought about you. I actually had a breakdown over thinking about you. You say my last words hurt you deep, do you have any idea how your silence is hurting me more? I don’t understand and guess I never will. Have you even read my birthday, anniversary, and holiday wishes to you? I have sent them and truly do mean them.

After all this I still wish you a wonderful life full of joy. I pray you and your new family are able to accomplish your goals, hopes, and wishes. I must say I really have no ill will for you, all I have is love and a heart full of confusion as to what I could have said or done that was so horrible that you have so easily tossed me out of your life. I guess I may never know, and at this point I don’t guess it matters. We have all moved on with our lives, trying to make sense of the situation, and realizing there really is no solution, fix, or answer that will ever make this right. If you never speak to me again remember I think of you, want all the best for you, and hope one day you will be back in my life. You know life is short and regrets will eat you alive. No matter how many mistakes I have made along the way I have no regrets, just hurt and confusion, but I hope you don’t end up 10 years from now and regret your decision on the day you decided you didn’t need or want me in your life, as that is a decision you can never make right, no matter how much time passes. Till next time…

%d bloggers like this: