barbie2Yep.  Me and Barbie.  Influencing pop culture since 1959.



I learned of Lisa too late — by the time I found her incredible blog, she was dying.  I never talked to her, or exchanged e-mails, or twittered with her.  Her journey was too personal for a complete stranger like me to invade.  Yet I read her blog, and the comments, and realized that she was an incredible human being with an incredible story.

She was a mother and a wife.  And she’s gone.

When your heart breaks for someone you never even met?  That’s a testament to the person who put herself, and her journey, out there.

Rest, Lisa.

Have you ever done something that just made you dislike yourself? I mean really, really dislike yourself? Something that came from a place that you didn’t know existed? And you found yourself questioning who you are?

Let me explain. The inimitable Kate has begun a blog carnival of sorts, and I’ve been invited to play (or write, as it were) along. Today’s theme?
Regret. Or lack thereof. Either works.

As I was thinking about what today’s post would say, this incident dredged itself up from a dark, murky, ugly place. A place that I wish never existed.

What I did, back then, over twenty-five years ago, isn’t important.  At least not in the sense of who, what, or where.  And I don’t mean to be cryptic. But while it might cast a shadow over the sunshine that I usually radiate (ha!), I doubt the story would shock anyone.   The more important thing is is how I feel, and have felt, about what I did many years ago.

And the most important, obviously, was how I made someone else feel.

It wasn’t criminal, it wasn’t immoral. It might not even bother some people.  Folks at postsecret might not even bat an eye.  But it was mean-spirited, and hurtful, and I shouldn’t have done it.

And that? I will regret for the rest of my life.

goredTomorrow,  February 6, is National Wear Red Day.  This is a nationwide effort to bring attention to heart disease in women.  Many of you know that I lost my mom six years ago.  One of the contributing factors to her death was heart disease, which she suffered through for over twenty years.  And a few  years ago, I had a scare of my own, when my blood pressure went out of control (after a lifetime of low blood pressure).

No one is immune to heart disease, and statistics show that women are more likely than men to die of  a heart attack.  And don’t ever think you’re too young for heart disease.  The Go Red for Women website has a whole section of stories – true ones – from women 35 and under that have been affected by, or afflicted with, heart disease.

So, tomorrow, when you get ready for your day, wear red.  And if you haven’t already, get your blood pressure, cholesterol, and triglycerides checked.  And do what you have to do to keep them in check.

For me, for my mom, and, especially, for you.

Fourteen children.  Eight of them newborns. $2 million before she’ll talk to anyone.

And now she says she wants to become a ‘televised childcare expert.’  I’m thinking she should try actually raising these children before calling herself anything other than a media whore.

Let me preface this post by saying I woke up in a complete funk.  Sure, there are work pressures.  Sure, those people that we refer to as our family don’t do what they’re supposed to do half the time.  Sure, everyone is worried about something.  But I woke up thinking  I have more than a usual amount of crap going on right now.   And I knew I wasn’t alone, but I still wanted to wallow in that.  Hence the funk.

What I also know is this.  I have lots of friends out there in blogland.  And they are on my mind as much as my friends that are within hugging distance.  And they have a lot of stuff going on right now.  Serious health issues.  Unemployment.  Depression.  Anxiety.  Parents having surgery.  New babies.   You name it, someone’s dealing with it.  So there you have it.  The recipe for a perfect, blue, funk.

But in steps Kate.  One of the coolest kids on the ‘net.  Smart, funny, sympathetic, empathic, compassionate – you name it.  She’s amazing.  And she has had way more than her share of funk-inducing ick (it’s a medical term – trust me) lately.  And in her usual honest and forthright manner, she has shared it with her readers.  So today, when I checked in on her blog to see how she’s doing, imagine my surprise at finding this.

And you know what? I was inspired.  I was inspired to put aside every crappy thing I have on my mind.  To put off the very nasty but necessary e-mail that I need to write to Miss Priss’ school administrators.  To do something significant.  To do something beyond the realm of my responsibilities or what people might expect as normal from me.

To pay it forward.  To take Kate’s simple yet perfect example of knowing that we are, all of us, part of something bigger, and to do something with that knowledge.

Won’t you join me?

Ok, if you guys are happy to hear from me, finally, after a very long blogdrought, you have the awesome Tiff to thank.  See, she posted one of those “Ten Things I Love That Start With the Letter…” memes and, of course, she rocked it (and she had the letter “U”).  And rather than tagging folks (oooh, the hate), she simply offered to give readers a letter if they wished.

So I wished.  (I also warned her that if she gave me a tough letter I’d just shut the whole damn operation down.)  And I got a “B”.  So now I have to tell you ten things I like that begin with the letter B.  God, even I should be able to do this.

So, here are my ten, in no particular order.  And dude.  This is so random.

Bush (as in George W):  Ok, ok, stop with the hissing.  You got your candidate in.  You’ve got your president.  Give me this.  I like him.  I like his family.  I like his Johnny Carson-esque facial expressions.  And I even like his misunderpronounciations and misunderuses of words.  Sue me.

Baked beans. (Told you this was random.)  The good kind.  Made with lots of brown sugar.  I have a fabulous recipe, but the way, but right now I’m thinking of the ones at Voodoo BBQ.  And, um, damn.

Beer. Yeah.

Blogfriends. You guys rock.

Books. As much time as I spend on the computer, nothing comes near the pleasure of riffing through the pages of a good book.  Spare me your books on tape or Kindle.  Give me a real, old-fashioned book any day.

Bed, Bath & Beyond. I can spend hours in that store.   And dollars.  Many dollars.

Birthdays. I don’t like when people downplay them.  Enjoy them!  And, speaking of,  join me in wishing two incredibly important people a happy one — Tracy Lynn, who is almost the coolest thing evah, and my very own Mr. Cool, who IS.  And he’s turning 17 tomorrow.  Now he can go to big boy jail.  (And I keep reminding him of that very thing.)

Brownies. Yum.

Baseball. Especially college baseball.  Especially when it’s LSU playing college baseball.  And when they are ranked 1 or 2 in the preseason (depending on who ranked ’em).

Basketball. On that same note.  College only.  The difference between NBA and college ball is like the difference between that slimy, canned asparagus and fresh.  Two different things – one of them really, really gross.

And that’s it.  Surely there’s more, but these were the first that came to mind.  Enjoy.

And be sure to go wish Tracy Lynn a happy birthday.  Because I do NOT want her mad at me.