Chuck, I Would Like to Buy a Word

Power and Control. There are many forms of power and ways to try and control others. Some groups, like our government, do it with laws, rules, and regulations. Some use money as the ultimate form of control. He who has the most is the winner, right? Other people use security, threatening to take it away as in co-dependency as a way to power over others. Abuse falls into this category. Yes, there are many ways to vie for power. I say that words hold power. They are the ultimate form.
I love words. I always have. But, it’s a bittersweet love. Sometimes they are nice to me and sometimes not so much. I love complicated words I can barely pronounce. I love words that I have to look up in the dictionary to discover their meaning. I love big words I can barely spell. I love acronyms. I love sayings and lingo. Quotes. Jibberish. Babblings.
Oh words, sometimes you escape me when I’m seeking that specific one. You remain aloof, taunting me to find you. You do love your game of hide and go seek, don’t you? Find me, find me! Wherefore art thou, oh special word? And what is a word? Is a word still not a word if it were called something else? Would it still not hold the same meaning and power? Would it still not conjure up the smells, the sounds, the feelings, the memories and the moments in time? Ahhh, yes, beloved words. You hold a special place in my heart.
Words accumulate in my head. They congregate. They hold meetings. They run rampant like kids at a Chuck E Cheese birthday party! Before you know it, in a matter of seconds, my head is full of words. It’s at maximum occupancy. At this point, there is a line at the door. There is no more room inside for any more. Maximum Occupancy has been reached. The verbs are flying around and nouns are being slung by the dozens. The pronouns are serving up adjectives as fast as they are created. Hang around long enough and you will hear it… “I’ll buy a round of vowels for the house!” Oh, now it’s on! The fun has began! Just try and leave. Sure, I know, you just came by for one. At this point, it’s one in, one out and there is a cover charge at the door. There is a price to pay, allright! Being inside my head isn’t cheap.
The words, they come on their own accord. Uninvited, they just show up. Unannounced. Frequently. Suddenly. No warning. Always in groups. Never alone. Sure, sometimes it starts with one, but then it quickly turns into the masses. What is this, Summer Jam? A free-for-all? Open mic night? Sometimes they are unwelcome. Sometimes I wish they would shut the heck up and leave me to my peace. But no… chatter, chatter, chatter. On and on they go philosophizing about this and that. Sometimes making sense, often not. Really? Does anyone care what they have to say? Is it really that important? Oh, let’s make room in my head for the almighty Words! Hmmmphfff.
They decide when to adjourn and when to depart. Yes, there are a million ways in, but only one way out. Well, ok, there is a second exit, but they prefer the main exit. So, if they must, they will settle for the rear exit door, which is out of my fingertips, one letter at a time. That’s the long way out and they must wait in line. It’s a slow process and often some of them are called back in… something was forgotten and they must return in order to complete it.
Most words refuse to depart until they can exit out of my mouth with their entourage, and only when there is an audience waiting for them. Yes, they do love the paparazzi. There is nothing like all the flashes of lights. Pop! Pop! They want to see themselves in the paper the next day. The media is their addiction. All eyes on them. Their names on the lips of all those who saw them. Each one gaining power through repetition, word of mouth, gossip. Attention, good or bad, it’s all good to them! Attention is attention!
So, back to the Power topic. Sorry about the stray. The words took over, once again and I had to make them exit so there is room for the words I want to talk about… so we can get back to the original topic. My weapon of choice is words. Words are the ultimate weapon of mass destruction or construction, depending on which ones you choose. Words are underestimated. Think about it. Ponder on it. Words are always with us. They are free, but they aren’t cheap. They can cost you a lot. A relationship. A life. A job. Your freedom.
Sometimes, we think we own words. That we really have the power. You would think we were the ones who came up with the English Language! We think we hand picked our words and put them together in a sentence and we are the first one to do it that specific way. HaHaHa! If you own your own words, then just try and make them go away! They own us! Just try and think nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. You just said to yourself, “think nothing.” That’s something. Actually, that’s nothing. Nothing is a word.
Oh, sure, you who meditate, you actually tell yourself you CAN think of nothing. You ARE in control, right? After all, you thought of nothing and you did this for 5 minutes and you’re proud of that? LOL. 5 minutes out of 24 hours or 1440 minutes in a day. Sure, the words say, go ahead and take your little 5 minutes if that will make you feel better about yourself! The words are mocking you. They know who is in control. So do you. They are staring at you and you can see them floating around in your head. Sure, you are pretending to ignore them, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. They own you and you both know it!

The Magical Mystery Tour of My Mind

 

I love songs… music… lyrics. Mostly I love lyrics. I frequently wake up with music playing in my mind and I wonder where that song came from. It’s often a song I don’t even remember hearing before and I must have been dreaming about it.

So, I wake up, crawl out of bed at nine o’clock on a Saturday and shuffle in… to the kitchen…and get my tonic and gin. Every morning just before breakfast I don't want no coffee or tea. I drink alone. You know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself. Did I say I was having tonic and gin? Whoops, what I meant was coffee.  I wouldn’t be drinking yet ‘cuz John is there. And I prefer to drink alone. Oh yeah, I already said that.

I start the day by singing off key. Often, I’m not really sure how the melody goes. Sometimes it’s sad and sometimes it’s sweet. One thing is for sure… I knew it complete when I wore a younger girls clothes!

Poor John! No, not John at the bar that’s a friend of mine. That John gets me my drinks for free and he’s quick with a joke. He will also light your smoke, but I don’t smoke. I’m talking about MY John… JG, the Bombshell artist. You know? That guy in my life J Well, anyway, poor John, he has to listen to me sing off key. La la la, di da da. La la, di di da da dum. Yup, John has to hear it all. He often says,  “Carol I think you forget about real life for a while. Man, what ARE you doing here?”

If I don’t know the lyrics, I make them up. Whatever I feel like saying, or whatever rhymes, or whatever other crazy words that pop into my head. And there are lots of them. I have more words floating around in my head than I have acquaintances in life. 

Sure, this probably is entertaining for John, if not annoying, but mostly it’s for me. I love to entertain myself. If I’m not going to, then who is? I mean, it isn’t John’s job to entertain me. I feel a certain responsibility to take care of that myself. I’m not against pleasing myself, that’s for sure!

I once had a boyfriend tell me he could drop me off in the middle of a field by myself for a day and he was sure I would have fun and find plenty to do and talk about. I’m sure he was right. Once there, I would look over yonder and see the sun arisin. Here comes the sun. And I would say, it’s all right. I can handle this! The ice is slowly melting. A new day is comin! I would run around as fast as I can. And then I would look around and say, “I think I’m alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. The beating of my heart is the only sound.” But, I’m not speaking to anyone other than myself, cause I am, after all, alone. Did I say alone? Who I am kidding? I always have an audience and that’s ME! I listen to that voice in my head often and sometimes I talk back! So… back to what my old BF said about me and the field… I still don’t know… is this an insult or a complement?

So, I listen to voices in my head. Echoes of things that you said. Does that make me insane? Possibly. But you have to admit. I do have a certain style and spunk that makes you like me anyway! I have that Boom Boom Pow. I’m so 3008. You tryin to copy my swagger? Don’t do it! You can’t handle it! It may seem like something you want, but you can’t always get what you want. Keep trying. If you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need. And, getting what you need is often much better than getting what you want.

Am I crazy? Yes, probably. But don’t call me crazy! I did go crazy. That was back in ‘92 when I partied like it was 1999. Some friends of mine said, “Let’s go crazy!” So, we did. Like I said, don’t call me crazy. Some call me Space Cowboy and that’s ok, and others call me the Gangster of Love. A few of my friends call me Maurice, ‘cuz I speak of… well… that’s a long story, so don’t ask. I’d just prefer you call me Carol Ann. It’s much simpler that way. And, after all, it’s really who am I. What I want to know is, who are you? Who, who, who? Sorry, didn’t mean to repeat myself. I stretched back and I hiccupped. So, appreciate who you are. Don’t worry about what people call you. There isn’t much in a name. After all, a rose is still a rose. By any other name it would still smell as sweet. And, a boy named Sue is still a boy. So don’t let your name define you. Let’s all just come together. Peace, it’s the answer. Unless you’d like to give love a try? 

The Naked Truth

I love skin! It’s amazing! Think about it…. what else is so versatile, so reliable, so fabulous? And it’s with us forever. It’s like a best friend or sig other that puts up with all your abuse! You cut it, and unless it’s a terrible, horribly deep cut, it heals on its own. And even if it’s horribly deep, we sew it back together and then it heals. Sure, it may scar, stretch a little, get some wrinkles or get discolored with some spots on it, but it still works just fine! I mean, give it a break! It’s got a tough job of holding your crap together!

Skin is our largest organ. Bet you didn’t know that, huh? It has so many jobs and it’s working all the time. For starters, it holds everything on the inside in. It’s like the frame to a car. It keeps most infections out. It looks good too, and comes in all colors J It’s soft, yet durable. Firm, yet stretchy. It’s super sensitive. A subtle stroke of a finger can send chills throughout the entire body.  How fun is that?! It protects itself. When exposed to sun, it darkens to avoid sunburn. And just think, every 35 days you get a brand new epidermis, the outer layer. The body is constantly replacing itself. How cool is that?

Skin loses 30 to 40,000 dead skin cells every minute. Not every day, but every minute! Wowsa! Once a day, it sheds a layer. I can’t even imagine that. About 80% of the material we see floating in a sunbeam is actually skin flakes! I told you skin looks good! No wonder there are little microscopic bugs that eat skin cells. Something needs to clean up that mess of all those flakes! We aren’t the only ones eating flakes for breakfast.

I can just imagine. You’re sitting in a movie theatre with 50 other people for two hours shedding skin cells. By the end of the movie, if not for dust mites, a person wouldn’t be able to walk out of the movie without rummaging through some visible accumulated skin cells. “Oh, pardon me, I didn’t mean to fall into your lap. I slipped on some skin cells!” I’m sure the dust mites get together and discuss where to go out for dinner. “I’m tired of staying home and eating at the mattress. Same old flakes. I want something different. Hey, want to go out to the theatre? It’s a best seller tonight and I’m sure there will be LOTS of skin cells there of all types. It’s a buffet!”

Speaking of dust mites, did you know that people with allergies to them, are not actually allergic to them? Nope. It’s their feces we are allergic to! Cool, huh? NOT! I’m one of those people with allergies. Why can’t they find and use a toilet like the rest of us? Why do they have to just poop anywhere and everywhere, leaving it around for people like us to breathe? Oh sure, they will clean up our mess, but they leave a new mess of their own. That’ll teach ya to leave your skin cells lying around, huh?

The human body fascinates me. It really is a miracle in action and most people take it for granted. I know I do, most of the time. But today, let’s appreciate the skin and all the hard work it does for us! So get naked! Celebrate the skin! Show it off. It IS gorgeous, ya know? The nerve of me, you say? Next week, we will talk about nerves, so tune in next week! 

Sour Apples and Other Short Stories from Carol Ann

ARE THOSE WORDS FLOATING IN MY TOILET? 

(Thinking and pondering as I often do). Who decided that some words are sinful and bad? Why did someone decide that a specific group of words are called “cuss” words and we aren’t supposed to say them? I mean, aren’t all words just a form of communication? It's just words, right? They can't make me bleed or kill me. They don't cause disease or poverty.

So, if two different words mean the same thing, then why is one labeled bad, and the other is labeled as acceptable? Isn’t this a double standard at it’s finest? Why did my mom always tell me to say, “pass gas,” but I can’t say, “fart?” I think they are both funny, myself! And why can’t I burp? Why must I belch instead? Why? Did you just tell me to shut up? (Shock! Why I never!) My mom always told me to be quiet. Where did you learn your manners? 

Anyway, why is ok for me to have a bowel movement and just a little worse if I go poop, but acceptable for me to poop if I’m under the age of two and am learning words, but it’s never acceptable for me to take a sh*t? Don’t all three of these things lead to the same matter in my toilet? BTW, never underestimate the power of a courtesy flush! Carol Ann, stick to the subject!

THE GARDEN

I’m just curious. Why must the whole human race pay for what Eve did in the garden? I want a chance at the garden. I want to walk around in bliss, peace and happiness all day with the birds chirping, the sun shining warm on my bare back, and the rainbow over yonder.  I want to never worry about money. I want a plethora of food at my disposal. I want to live in harmony with the world and all it’s entities.

I want to eat unlimited fruit from the trees! I won’t get greedy and eat from that special tree, I promise! One tree? Seriously, that’s it? That’s all that’s off limits? I mean, now I get one car out of half a million created and I don’t feel bad at all that I’m confined to the one. I think I could handle that one tree being off limits.

And, snakes? Would I listen to a snake? Hell, no! Whoops, I mean, earth, no! (Dang, I can't even handle the cuss word thing and I seriously thing I can handle the entire sin thing?!? Who am I kidding?) Anyway, back to the snake, that devilish creature. I wouldn’t even get near one, let alone listen to him. Devil or ordinary snake. Doesn’t matter. I would run from snakes. I’m not interested in what they have to say. I have the voices in my head to keep me company! Who needs a snake?

I would be very happy meandering and daydreaming in the garden and appreciate the fact that I didn’t have to get in my gas guzzling, smog creating, ozone depleting, global warming car and drive 30 minutes to work in rush hour traffic stressed out before my day has even begun and spend 45 hours a week away from my family at a job I didn’t like, listening to people complain about their job they hate and answering the phone to customers complaining about the crappy service they received or the product they didn’t like or how it was too expensive…. 

Oh yeah, that’s my old life. Now, I work from home at a job I love! I’m already in the garden! Where was I? EVE!!! I think “Eve” should be added to the cuss word dictionary. I’m tired of paying for HER sins! No honey, you shouldn’t say “Eve”. That’s a bad word and it might offend other people! 

THE END IS NEAR!!! Shuuuut up!

Did someone say this was short takes? Oh, yeah, that was Carol Ann. That girl never know when to shut up!!! Oops, I mean, “be quiet!” 

I love to eat! I eat to love! Love! Eat!

Let’s talk food. I mean, who doesn’t like that subject? I could talk about food all day long, not repeat myself, and still not run out of things to say! Speaking of food, let’s talk about mom. No, not YOUR mom, MY mom! Remember, this is about me!

Any time I eat a meal that consists of lots of gravy, fried stuff, round steak or mashed potatoes, it reminds me of my mom’s home cooking which I miss so much. Mom was farm raised and that’s how she cooked for our family growing up. I have four brothers, so my mom cooked by the gallons, bushels, 5 pound bags of potatoes…. You get the idea. She didn’t mess around with small quantities. When the mashed potatoes and chipped beef with gravy came around, you better get what you wanted the first time around ‘cause it may not make it for round two!

As a family, we always sat around the table.  No couch eating for us. The TV was turned off and the dog even joined us, but over by the door because Tinker Bell wasn’t allowed to beg at our feet. Dad always prayed before every meal. Mom and Dad lived during the depression, so they came from a time of being grateful for everything you had and this was ingrained in them. One doesn’t forget times like that and ways of life that come from it. Nothing was taken for granted and you recycled anything you could. Not because it was good for the environment, but rather because money was tight and rations were limited. That aluminum foil still has some use in it. Look! It’s not even dirty yet. It can go from being wrapped around a baked potato to covering your leftover bowl in the fridge the next day to being wrapped around your sandwich the next time around. We had a drawer of aluminum foil squares ready to be used again.

Dessert was served after every dinner and it was home made. Of course! That woman could cook, and she could do it well! Mom made pies, cookies, cakes, breads, rolls and tapioca pudding. Among our favorites were chocolate marlow, apple dumplings, carrot cookies, date-nut cookies and chocolate sheet cake. My favorite thing ever was apple pie with brown sugar topping. Hmmmm, maybe it was the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Oh yeah, forgot about the chocolate marlow ice cream. YUM-EEE! My mom made a pie crust that was to die for, and she knew it! It was her mom’s recipe, so that made it ok for her to brag about it. The only difference was her mom used real cream, hand churned, in her pies. Mom has often told the story of the first time she cooked a pie for dad, and he left the crust on his plate. She looked at dad, and said, “Aren’t you going to eat that?!” He said, “I don’t like pie crust.” “Well you will like mine, so you better try it!” Well, he tried it alright. Now there isn’t a crumb left on anyone’s plate, including his, when mom bakes pies. I guess she showed him!

I have many of mom’s recipes that are my favorites copied down in my hand writing. When she goes, bless her heart, that’s the thing I want most…. Her recipes in their original format. I even know what most recipes look like… if they are in her writing, what they are written on, or if they are a cut out from a magazine. Those recipes hold a lifetime of memories. Family. The many smells of food baking. The comfort and nourishment of her food. Family! (Did I say that already?)  My mom’s nurturing through cooking. Her worry of us kids if we skipped a meal. How proud she was of her cooking! How much Dad appreciated how good every single thing tasted that she made. How proud he was to have her as a wife. He always told her after every meal, “Polly, that was delicious!”

Mom had me start cooking in the kitchen when I was about 9. My life, just like my mom’s life, has revolved around food and cooking. As a little girl, walking through the door home from school to the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking was a regular thing. I was so excited, because warm cookies are always best. Nothing like a hard day of studies to build an appetite! Mom used to make us pancakes and home made waffles with heated syrup for breakfast. My friends couldn’t believe she heated the syrup and that her waffles were home made. Waiting on your turn at a waffle was hard! We had huge family gatherings at holidays over the years. As the boys got older, dated and married, it became common for the leaves in the table to stay in it for days. It was nothing to have 16 or 20 people around our table on Sunday.

Mom always was so giving and baked for other families who lost a loved one or had someone who was ill. There were church potlucks, family reunions. I remember disliking potlucks. I was with Dad on that one… no one could cook like mom and a potluck meant I not only had to share HER cooking with other people, but I had to eat THEIR food too. Yuck! Ok, sometimes it was good. But, no one could cook like mom.

Now that she has gotten older… well into her eighties and soon to be 90, mom doesn’t cook like she used to. They eat out a lot. Also, when she does cook, she has gotten very forgetful and it isn’t quite the same at times. One time, for a birthday, she made her famous Waldorf cake that is red and has about 4 layers with icing between each layer. It’s a family favorite, for sure! My sister-in-law Sondra and I are diving in, cutting off a big piece… Take a bite…. Take another bite…. Slowly chew… I look at her. She looks at me. We both have a funny look on our face. Then, we are trying not to laugh as we don’t want to hurt mom’s feelings. The cake was AWFUL!!! It tasted like lard or something! Finally, I put the fork down. I can’t do it. Sondra is now laughing and so am I. Mom looks at us, takes a bite herself, and determines she forgot the sugar! We sprinkled sugar on, but it didn’t work. It needed to be whipped in, I guess! What a waste of good cake and effort that was!

I will always cherish my mom’s cooking. Not because it was so tasty and wonderful. Not because it nourished us kids, filled our bellies and sent us out the door with a skip in our step. Not because she amazingly cooked for a family of seven on our tight budget. Not because she insisted we eat 3 square home cooked meals a day. Not because she loved to cook. Not because she taught me how to cook by me cooking by her side from an early age on.  Not because she insisted on feeding all my friends the minute they walked in the door. Not because she always had sweets on hand that were home made. Not because I was able to take delicious sack lunches to school hand packed by mom.

I will always cherish my mom’s cooking because she baked with love. She spread love out to everyone she met and knew through her cooking. Her food tasted amazing because of her love that went into it. I learned about love via mom’s cooking. Love went around our family dinner table with laughter and food and it was because of mom. Those who were ill and ate mom’s food, I’m sure were better because of it. I still remember hot tea and toast when I was sick. And hot water to ease my tummy aches. Yes, mom was full of love and expressed it through her food. I grew and developed into an adult because of that food I ate every day for the first 18 years of my life. It’s in my bones, my joints, my blood, my muscles and my entire being. Through her cooking, Mom taught me how to love. For that, I will always be grateful. And filled to the brim with love!

McScrewed AGAIN!

So… every time I got through fast food drive through, I get screwed. They always forget SOMETHING… sometimes it’s just a straw or a fork. Sometimes it’s an entire item. Sometimes it’s someone else’s order. And, let’s be clear, I’m the one getting screwed. I never get an extra item or a super-size order of fries when I ordered a small. Nope. It’s always something missing.

And, fast food? Not! As I was waiting, I had time to read the sign that said, “we are now charging for extra sauce.” Seriously?! Every time they forget an item of mine, that should save them enough money for about 15 or 20 little sauces. Take that times 10 cars and they should be paying me to take an extra sauce. The little yogurt parfaits I love have shrunk in size not once, but twice since they came out. Same “size”, same “price”, less volume.

Is this someone’s way of telling me I’m not ever supposed to eat fast food? Sometimes ya just gotta! Sometimes it’s fun to be bad! Sometimes you are traveling and Panera doesn’t have a drive through, so healthy eating has to go by the wayside. And, sometimes, you have a buck fifty change in your ashtray in the car and so the $1 menu from Wendy’s sounds pretty good for dinner! (Wendy’s is my fav fast food. I have to give them credit).

It happens to me on such a regular basis now that I stop and check my order. It doesn’t matter if the drive through line is full of cars. I’m checking.  Of all the fast food restaurants, McDonalds is the worst. Really? Over one kazillion served? Served what? The wrong order, that’s what. I definitely got “SERVED”. As I drive away, the cashier is pointing at me and laughing… “she got SERVED, man!” Maybe that’s where that term came from! Oh, but Mickey D’s must be doing something right since there is one on every corner, right? Oh they do something right, alright. They market. They pay big dogs for R&D. They know EXACTLY where to put their restaurants to get the most exposure. They brand. You know exactly what’s on the menu already.  Pull off any interstate exit, and there they are!

So, I’m wondering… when one person has the job of cooking fries, and another runs the cash register, and yet still another runs the drive up… each person has one specific job. They don’t have to multi-task. They don’t have to think. This isn’t “Have it Your Way!” Nope. It’s cookie cutter repetition day after day, item after item. I’m sure there is one person’s job to looks at the receipt and put the items in the bag. Actually, it’s a McMonitor, not a receipt. It’s big! It’s written in English. They speak and read English right? They are familiar with the menu. Heck, I know the McMenu inside and out and I don’t even like Filet of McFish or the annual McRib. So… how is it so hard to McMess it up? I’m McMad!

I can’t be the only one who is getting screwed.  “Oh, look! It’s Carol Ann in her Jeep Cherokee! Time to mess up the order!” Well, at least today when they forgot my Angus Snack Wrap, I actually did get an extra chocolate chip cookie to make up for it. They were stuck together so I guess that’s why. McMaybe they couldn’t count to three? They thought, oh heck that looks about right! The cookies were warm and gooey fresh from the oven, so I forgive them today. I’d rather have my cookies. They taste like mom’s, so I’m happy.

As I drive off, I’m thinking… what is so special about Angus? Isn’t that prejudiced? What about the other cows? Aren’t they special too? Why does Angus get all the glory? Poor other little cows with no special name. But hey, they have something on the Angus. They are still alive. So, go ahead, eat your Angus burgers!

And, since when did Angus beef become just a “snack”. If that’s a snack, then what the hell is for dinner? Potato chips? I’m confused! I thought chips were a snack. Now we are calling chicken and beef wraps a snack? Arggggh! I need to eat at home more often….

12 Steps to Recover From FB Addiction!

1. Admit you have a problem. Say it out loud! Admit you are powerless over the effects of FB – that your life has become unmanageable since all you do is log on to FB first thing in the morning and sit in front of your computer all day. 
How do you know if you have a problem? 

Here are some signs: 
a. Do you lie to your boss? “No, I wasn’t goofing off on FB, really I was working!! I was looking for potential clients and leads and work groups to join. I’m trying to increase sales!” Do you frequently look over your shoulder at work and have one of those little mirrors on your computer monitor so you can see who is coming up behind you to afford yourself plenty of time to minimize the window?? 
b. Do you lie to your spouse/sig other? “That picture of me on that boys page? What? I’m sure that was taken a really long time ago BEFORE I met you!” But honey, it looks so recent, like the picture was taken yesterday. “It does? Let me see the picture… oh WOW, I wasn’t there recently… it’s amazing what Photoshop can do these days!! ” 
c. Are you secretive about your FB behaviors? Do you find yourself going to the library just so that no one can see you on FB? Do you lie about the hours you spend online? “What, 4 hours? No, I wasn’t online… I must have forgotten to close the browser when I walked away from my computer!! “ 
d. Do you find yourself skipping meals in order to spend your ENTIRE lunch hour on FB? 
e. Have you upgraded your cell phone just to allow you FB viewing privileges so now you can get FB ANYWHERE and at ANYTIME?? 
f. Do you freak out when your internet service goes down and immediately look for other sources to access your FB page? 
g. Do you spend the majority of your day thinking about FB? Do you find it hard to focus on anything else? Do you often daydream and wonder WHO has written WHAT on your wall? Have you lost interest in everyday things which used to make you happy, such as a favorite song playing on the radio or a really good meal? 
h. Do you have FB health related problems, i.e. carpal tunnel, insomnia, hypoglycemia (lack of food), Rapid Eye Movement, high blood pressure (too many friends to keep up with), inability to tell reality from imagination? 

If you answered yes to 6 of the 8 above, you have a problem! 

2. Make a decision to restore your sanity. Believe in yourself and realize others have recovered from the debilitating effects of FB… YOU CAN DO IT TOO! 
3. Know that you are not alone. There are plenty of groups and discussion boards there for you. It’s just a matter of finding the one which works for you… Facebooks Anonymous is a good start! 
4. Seek out a buddy Find a FB friend who has been on there longer than you and has learned how to successfully juggle their life and FB at the same time. Try seeking out help from your children. We can learn from them for a change! Unlike us, they had FB in highschool… they grew up with it…they know how to manage FB! Call up your buddy when you feel overwhelmed and have the urge to FB and know you shouldn’t. 
5. Switch over to MySpace. You will be bored by it within weeks and it will help wean you off the online social networks. 
6. Make new friends. Do not allow yourself to have online friends. Do not email your friends, IM your friends… this will remind you of FB and you may feel the need to cheat and “just go on FB for 10 minutes, that’s all.” DON’T DO IT! Find friends who ONLY like to talk on the phone! Do not hang out with the old friends whom you met or hooked back up with on FB. They will mislead you and convince you that you don’t have a problem (after all, THEY are on FB, and THEY don’t have a problem!) Hang out with OLD people who still live in the 19th century and are not internet savvy. 
7. Delete your profile. I know it’s a drastic measure, but it has to be done!! Otherwise, you will tell yourself it is rude to NOT reply to your friends and rude to NOT IM them. 
8. Get out of denial! Sure, there are people who NEVER log off FB and are online 24x7, but just because you only spend 8 hours a day on FB, does that REALLY make you better? Do you really want to compare yourself with THEM? 
9. Find a new way to connect with friends. “But my friends are all on there!” If your friend were to jump off a bridge would you do it too? For this issue, please refer back to Rule #6. For example, take up texting. It takes longer, is more time consuming, and not nearly as interesting as FB… therefore, it is not addicting and you will find yourself not engaging in hours of this behavior. 
10. Find something else to do with your fingers. Try knitting or darts. Take up photography. On second thought, skip photography. It would make you want to upload those pics to FB! How about court reporting? That way you can type and keep your hands busy, get in on all the gossip and find out who is going to jail, when and why! 
11. Stay away from all places which tempt you to FB. This includes the library, Starbucks, Borders and anywhere else with internet café’s. No borrowing your friend’s mobile smart phones either!! We know ALL the tricks! 
12. Announce to everyone you know that you are a Facebookaholic and in recovery. This will help you maintain accountability. All your friends, family, acquaintances and long lost high school mates will understand and try to support you. So many others before you have been there, done that, and got the t-shirt. The first step is admitting you have a problem, and step 12 is admitting to EVERYONE you have a problem! Good Luck!! 

Safeway, Alco, Cows and Tether Ball. Where Am I?

On our way back from Denver today, John and I decided to stop in Limon to eat. What a quaint little town! As a landmark on my numerous trips to Denver to see Matt, I had always thought the town was bigger. With a population of 4,817, that makes Limon even smaller than the town of Ottawa, Kansas (pop 12,887) where I grew up.

Just driving through Limon evoked all kinds of memories. There was an Alco Discount Store. Those still exist??? We even saw a Safeway on our way home!

There was a metal swing set on the side of the road in front a motel. Just a swing set… 3 swings with wooden seats. We aren’t talking a jungle gym. We aren’t talking a whole playground entertainment center in one piece of equipment. Nope. We are talking cold, hard steel or iron with wooden hard seats. Those swing sets caused many an ache and pain in my day, along with broken arms and cut lips when you fell on it! Yup, good stuff! That’s the kind of playground equipment that will toughen a kid up.

On this same playground was a metal turtle, the old school basketball goal and a tether ball set. Not sure why we thought a metal turtle was fun to climb on, but we did, and we liked it. Remember smacking that tether ball so fast and so hard that you just knew it was going to hit your little brother smack dab in the face and nothing was going to stop it!?!  Not even your little brother! Oh, did that hit you, Jimmie? I’m SO sorry! (That will teach him to borrow my G.I. Joe and leave it outside where the dog can run off with it, never to be found again!) Oh, sure, Jimmie, go tattle to Mom! But, MOM! We were just playing! It was TETHER BALL! It’s not like we were playing with knives or anything! What? On PURPOSE? (Me, with my best shocked look of innocence on my face as I can muster up). How can you think I’d do that on purpose? Now, I start crying too. Moms are sympathetic to tears. Well, sometimes. It’s worth a try.

Yes, those were the good ‘ole days. Those were the days when you took the law into your own hands. Back when there was a posse that took care of bad people. That was when you just shot a man who did you wrong. What? That was before my time? Oh, yeah, sorry, I got carried away.

We stopped at Limon to eat because anyone who has driven from Kansas to Colorado and back knows that once you pass Limon, it’s about 4 hours from Limon to the next food stop. We ate at South Side Food and Drink. We walked in to this restaurant and every eye turned to see us. I could see it in their look. Strangers in town. They better watch their back and behave if they know what’s good for them!

I had a chicken fried steak with mashed tators and gravy. John had the rib eye. Talk about real home cookin! Now THAT will put some meat on your bones. The rib eye was delicious. It was juicy and full of flavor. Yes, John shared. (It’s a precursor requirement of mine). It must have been from an old fashioned cow! You know the kind…. the pre-steroid, pre-antibiotic, farm raised, pasture grazed cow. The kind of cow that probably had a name from the kids who helped their dad raise them. The kind of cows allowed to graze and move about on the land. The kind of cows raised with kindness and humanity. Cows that were allowed a humane existence. Well… you know the kind. The kind your neighbor may have raised if you grew up in a rural community. Mmmmmm.

Mom has told stories of when she was a young girl and her dad would round up the cows for a cattle drive to take ‘em for butcher to the Kansas City stock yards. Cowboys and dogs kept the cows in line. Dad has talked about the days when he was laid off from A&P grocery just for awhile…. There wasn’t enough work for them in the stores, so he and some other employees were sent to the stock yards to work. He said they ate well during that time! Steaks were a daily fare.

Well, back to the truck to continue homeward bound.  I wonder if I will see some cows on the way?

Grow Up!

As adults, we are often told to "act our age", "grow up", "quit being so immature". Why? Why do we have to? Why is it ok to be "young at heart"? "Young in spirit"? Why is innocence only associated with children? Does wisdom only come with age? Why, mom, why? I have lots of questions. And yes, there really are stupid questions but I'm ok with being the one to ask them!

It's ironic really. We spend most of our childhood wanting to be older. Wanting to be more independent. Wanting to learn. Wanting to grow up. Get a job. Make money. Be in control. Hold our own power. Then, we grow up! We think to ourselves, whoooo hooo! I made it! I'm in control now! I'm not going to be anything like my parents! I'm going to make lots of money, have a great job I love, accomplish all my goals, and be happy! This feeling is great! It lasts about 5 minutes.

So... As adults, we get a job, get married, strive for all our goals. We support ourselves (or try to at least). Then we realize it's a lot of work! It's not the lush green grass we thought it was when we were on the outside looking in. Power? Control? Ummm, yeah, sure... You can have all the power over yourself you want. Of course! Its a free country, right? So, do what you want when you want... After you pay taxes. After you punch a clock every day. After you obey all the laws set forth by the country, state, county, and city you live in. Sure! After that, you are free to spend those few hours a night doing whatever you want to!

I think this why, as we grow much older, we revert back to acting like children. No one will judge you. She is old! They will say. She is senile, cranky, forgetful. We have all kinds of labels to explain away old people's bad behavior.

At that point, we let someone else take care of us again. Old people are the only ones who really get it! Being in charge often isn't everything its cracked up to be. Sometimes it's nice to have someone else make you a meal, pay your bills, drive you around... bathe you. Yeah, I know what you're thinking! Hmmmmmm, maybe I want to have that too! I mean just cause I CAN do something doesn't mean I always WANT to!

Personally, I've loved growing older and wouldn't go back to my childhood for anything. But don't, just cause I'm an adult, don't think for a second that if I want to ACT like a child I won't! I'm already figuring it out. This power thing, being in control thing, working my butt off thing...well it's not the end all catch all. I want to laugh more. I want to play more. I want someone to drive me around. I want someone to scratch my back, bathe me.... Hmmmmmm.

I want to be silly. I think it's funny when someone in the room farts and I want to laugh at it rather than remain composed because that's what I'm "supposed" to do. I want to act ridiculous at times and not apologize for it. I want to say the first thing that comes to mind no matter that it doesn't make sense to you. If someone hurts my feelings big time, I want to be able to cry about it and not be told to "suck it up!" I want to be tucked in at night. Sleep with my Teddy. Have my problems fixed. Now! I want my mommy!!! Stomp. Stomp. Door slamming. Me leaving the room. It's time to pout. Come get me in 5 minutes cause I will be over it by then! Then, we can play!

I Don't Get Even, I Get Mad AND Keep Score!

I try to be a positive person. I try to love others regardless of
their beliefs, habits, way of life. I try not to infringe on other's
rights. I try to treat people with respect. I try to allow people I
know to be themselves and appreciate their individuality. This is all
good as long as it doesn't infringe on me. There. I said it. I gotta
draw the line somewhere. I'm all about respect and courtesy, morals
and ethics. Black and white, right and wrong. I've got my opinion, you
have yours. In kindergarten (probably long before!), I learned it's
best to do unto others as you want them to do to you. I've analyzed my
life, myself, my actions. I've tried to learn from mistakes. I've
tried to be a better person. I seek to improve constantly. Blah, blah,
blah.

Are you bored yet? I'm getting there. Give me a minute! I'm laying the
foundation. You can't build the walls first, ya know?

So, with all this being said, this is what I TRY to do! It's still not
easy for me to take the high road! When someone "wrongs" me, I really
just want to sock it to them. Verbally! I don't want to get even. I
want to WIN! I want to be RIGHT! This is my immediate response. My
first gut reaction. Instinct. ME. Oh, no, I don't need any weapons of
choice cuz I've got my tongue. It's constantly with me. I take it
everywhere I go. Wouldn't be caught dead without it! Nope.

When I feel I'm wronged, I go straight to MAD! I do not pass Go. I do
not collect $200. I go straight to the jail cell and drag the other
with me. We are gonna rumble. Guard, look the other way. If you
interfere, you're next! There are two sides here... mine, and that
other persons', and you better pick one and place your bet. I let them
know just how wrong they are! I'm confrontational and my level of
anger matches the level of wrong done to me and the number of times
that person has wronged me. Accumulative. I'm really good at math, and
a number squared does not means "times two." Oh no, its not pretty.

To top it off, I keep score! I believe in, "the first time shame on
you, the second time shame on me!" And while this might make me feel
better temporarily, for that short moment in time, it's not good
karma, and it doesn't reflect well on me. Yes, I know! But, it sure
feels GOOD for the moment! Why worry about the outcome of that
outburst when I can worry about that later. Or not! After all, it will
come back to me.

Yes, Karma will find me, no matter where I am. She is crafty. She asks
around, sniffing out for clues. She is relentless in her search, never
wavering, never stopping for a coffee break. Have you seen that Carol
Ann lately? She asks everyone she meets. She asks those who know me
best. She stops in my favorite hangouts. She has been known to offer
payoffs. She takes bribes. She doesn't work for free, that's for sure.
Her clientele is extensive. That girl knows EVERYONE! She is quite the
networker. I think she invented it. Good ole Karma. Sometimes she is
in a good mood and I'm so happy to see her. Other times.... well,
let's just say I don't answer the door when she knocks. I know why she
has arrived and I make her serve me papers! No point in welcoming her
in! The lashing isn't going to be any easier if I do! Sigh.

I know Karma has me by a ball and chain. I know there is a GPS track
on me, watching my every thought, my movements, my associations with
others. So what's a girl to do? I'm a simple girl. John has said I'm
the cheapest high-maintenance girl he knows! Doesn't that count for
something? I don't ask for much. I just want to be happy. I want
others around me to be happy. So what now? Can we just say I'm working
on this, and call it good? I know I've got a problem. I admitted it.
Can we just stop there? Can we just let it go? I really don't want to
stand up and tell my story and finish the other 11 steps. I promise I
will try hard to be better, ok? Isn't that enough? Cut me some slack,
will ya? Please. I mean, after all, they STARTED it! I'm not allowed
to finish it? What!?! Did you say something? Whose side are you on,
anyway!?! Oh I get it! You and Karma are besties! You made a deal
with her! You got it like that? Now I know who has been tipping me
off. You better pick your side, and fast! Karma may be watching me,
but she is watching YOU too!

--
Production Princess/Owner
Bombshell Pin-up Productions™
913-669-3423

At Bombshell, we don't ask for much. We just want to change the world. One
Bombshell Girl™ at a time.

"Bombshell Girls" and "Bombshell Pin-up Productions" are trademarks of
Bombshell, L.L.C. All Rights Reserved.

www.Bombshells.info
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Is your body perfect? Yes? You, I'd like to meet.

Ok, so somewhere out there, I'm sure there are girls who do exist that really, truly love the way they look in the mirror. They look in the mirror and go, "Yeah, baby, yeah!" (Think Austin Powers now!) And, power to them, I say. Good for you! I'd like to meet them, just one of those girls. Just one. Because, to date, I haven't met one yet. Not one that copped to it, anyway. Even the girls who really like themselves quite a bit.... these girls follow up every compliment with, "Yes, BUT..." The "BUT" will be followed by a particular body part they feel could be better. Sigh. They just discredited themselves and reduced their body image to that one bad body part that could be better. I've heard every one of my friends, many are gorgeous, breathtaking women, complain about particular body part over and over and they will truly never be happy with themselves as a whole because of this part(s). How sad is this? It makes me very sad.

So... listen up! I'm talking to you! I know you have complained about your body part(s) you don't like and I know you dwell on it a lot! You let it bring you down! You let it define you! You sum yourself up as "less than" because of it! You beat yourself up over it! You reduce yourself to that one perceived lousy body part that you feel is bad. I have two things to say: 1) Shame on you!!! Would you do this to your child? Of course not, you say! That would be horrible and long term damage would occur. YOU are your own child. We are the only ones who can ultimately take emotional care of ourselves. We self talk all day, every day. Why is it ok to hate on yourself? I say, it's not ok! and... 2) We can't forget about happiness. Isn't happiness the goal? If you aren't happy today, with what you have, do you really think you will be happy tomorrow when you arrive at that perfect goal or achieve that desired look you have been longing for? I'm talking true happiness. True happiness is found within. Yes, it's cliche but true. Happiness is a choice. As long as you are busy beating yourself up over how lousy you look you can't truly love yourself and you can't truly be happy. Isn't love and happiness all we all really want? Ultimately?

So, where do I stand in all of this, you ask? Well, let me tell ya. Body image has been a long time struggle for me. And it's been a darn shame and a lot of wasted energy, wasted time, wasted negative thinking. I'm just now figuring this out and I'm in my late forties. I look back now, like so many women do, and now I realize that I looked pretty good in my younger years and didn't appreciate it or realize it at the time. In my younger years, I was too busy beating myself up for my shortcomings. Am I going to repeat this in another 20 years? At 60-something, am I going to look back at pictures of me now and think, "Dang, I looked pretty good at 46!?" Sigh again.

Let's start at the beginning. That's always a great place to start! It started in grade school. Some girls in 6th grade were beginning to get boobs. Not me. Nope. I was then thinking, uh-oh, what if they never grow? The bad thing (which is also the good thing!) about breasts is that everyone can see: a) you have them, or b) you don't. It's really that simple. Well, thank God in 7th grade they managed to come along with all the other stuff puberty brings. Enough said. So, that solved my problem, right? har! har! snort! hardy-har-har! You're funny! What, you say? So, things are good now at that point, right? Oh, no. They weren't big enough. I kept thinking, "You're done? That's IT? Seriously, they aren't going to grow anymore?" Sigh.

I grew up in the 70's and early 80's when curves were in and I definitely didn't have any. Sure, a lot of people thought skinny was great and I fit that profile. But oh, how I longed for curves. Yes, I had long legs, but I hated being taller than most boys. And my hair was fine and thin, and too straight, and never grew much past my shoulders, and I was too skinny. Did I mention I was too skinny? Oh, yeah, I covered that. I would stare at fashion magazines for hours, days on end. I never looked like those girls and I never would, or so I believed.

Then, I finally did gain some weight my senior year of high school. I thought I looked fine, but my mom started in on me to diet. Bless her heart. No, I don't blame her for anything. I promise. She was an amazing mom. She was just old school. Very old school. You were only as good as the man you could catch and you needed bait to catch 'em. Good bait. My mom was just looking out for my interests and doing what she thought was best for me.... keeping me pretty and desirable. After all, a proper girl doesn't go anywhere outside of the home without makeup on. My mom and I even trotted to the doctor and he proceeded to put me on the Cambridge liquid diet back in the 80's. Seriously! He even had the powdered stuff in his office available for sale. I couldn't have weighed more than 135 at 5'9". This disgusts me when I think of it to this day.

Years of dieting, exercising, and all kinds of crazy pill-popping, ephedra taking, gym membership joinin, exercise equipment purchasing, blah blah you name it. I've tried it all over the years. From Jane Fonda to Richard Simmons. The 20-minute workout. Aerobics. Jumping jacks. Swimming. Jogging. The mini trampoline. The rowing machine. Rubber bands. The rubber band weight machine. Leg warmers. Head bands, wrist bands. OOPS! That was a fashion trend. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about the fashion trends associated with working out! Back to the diets - no fat, low fat, no carbs, low carbs, zero calories, artificial everything, liquid diets, high fiber, high laxatives, throwing up. Did I say that out loud? Yup. You know you've tried it, if you're a girl! Some has worked, some hasn't. This brings me to today.

So, let's talk about today! Today is the best ever and I love it! Do I think my body is perfect? Hell, no!!! Do I love my body? Hmmmmm. Well, yes. Yes, I do. Can I look in the mirror and love my body? Yes! Well, wait... Dressed, or undressed? Dressed, you say? YES!!! Undressed, you say? cough, cough, choke. I didn't hear you? Can you repeat the question please? Ok, ok, I don't want to be a hypocrite. I can't lie! I don't love my body visually, no. But, I like it, so does that count? It's still a bit of a struggle for me. I knew it, you say! You're expecting me to do something you don't do yourself!!! (you pointing your finger at me now). So now have I become Michelle Obama who preaches to eat healthy but eats a plate of ribs? Yes, I am her. I preach to love your body, exactly as you are. Start there. Improvement is great, strive to be the best you can be, but start from a place of love. So, how can I say this not totally, completely, unconditionally loving myself exactly as I am, you ask? Let me explain... will ya, please?

I do love myself! I do! Unconditionally! For the first time in my life, I can say that and mean it. How do I define love? To accept oneself regardless of the state. To be your own BFF. To stand by yourself. To recognize your strengths and weaknesses and still offer encouragement. To dwell on the positive and minimize the negative. Do unto yourself as you would do to others. To realize you have ups and downs and the love you feel and show is consistent in spite of whether you are currently in an up, or currently in a down. To say to oneself that hey, I know everyone on earth SEES me before they KNOW me, and they JUDGE me visually immediately, but it's a human thing to do, so that's ok. I even do it to myself, and again, that's ok. None of us can help that. It's natural. It also doesn't matter, because the lasting impression I leave on that person will not be how I look, but how I act, how I treat them, my mannerisms, my spirit, my energy, my sparkle, zing, zip and pop! THAT is what they will remember and truly judge me by in the long term. So THAT is what really matters.

So... when I look in the mirror, naked, and I'd rather not see my belly sticking out quite as much as it does, well.... do I love the way I look? Yes, and no. I could look better. Do I love myself anyway? YES! Do I walk away from the mirror and think about how crappy I look and put myself into a box and label myself as "less than" because I have some extra pounds I'd rather not have? No, I do not do that. I used to do that. I don't anymore. Now, before I step away from the mirror, I look at all the things I LIKE about myself. I like my smile, so I smile. I like my legs and my butt. So, before I step away from the mirror, I make sure and turn around and sneak a little peak and if I need it, give myself a little pep talk. Now, I can be free to walk away and get on with my day. I've got some smiles to deliver, some beautiful faces to see, some life to live. I appreciate my health. I'm happy I have a meal in my fridge and a little bit of money in my bank account. I'm happy I have free will and freedom over my thoughts. I'm glad I made it this long in life. I'm grateful for my friends and family. I could go on.... but you get it. Who really cares about those extra pounds? Sure, hopefully someday soon I will start doing Pilates again and lose it and feel better inside and out. But, until then, Love is the answer!

This is dedicated to the one girl in my life who told me (at one time in my past) that I didn't truly love myself and that was my problem. Until you love yourself, she said, you can never really love others or be loved. I didn't get it. I get it now. Finally! It took me awhile haha. Her many phrases and words of wisdom over the years have sunk into me deep and will always reside in my heart, mind and soul. She planted those seeds and made me question things and seek out answers. For that, I'm always grateful and I only hope I can do the same thing for someone else as I discover and uncover some of the truths in life :) Lord knows I have a ways to go, but hey, life is a constant lesson to be had. Love you Kris!

My Lifelong Friend... My Jeep!

Some people have their dogs. Some people have their cats. Me, I have my Jeep!

My Jeep and I met in 2000. She is a 1997 Jeep Cherokee 4WD and I love her! How do I know she's a girl, you ask? Well, she loves attention and she has two beautiful big headlights up front (Eyes! Get your mind out if the gutter!).

How did we meet? I'm so glad you asked! It started when I decided to have kid number two. There is that moment when your back says to you, "Really? You seriously expect me to lean over, stretch into that tiny back seat from your two-door car, AND lift a 10 pound baby swaddled in blankets, the child seat and the diaper bag, and do this HOW many times per day"? Once it become necessary to trade in the Fiero for something a little more family friendly, there were two choices: mini van or S.U.V. Myself, I'm an SUV kind of girl! So that's how you met, you ask. Nope! But I'm getting there! Give me a minute to explain, will ya please? Sheesh!

So, as I was saying, I'm an SUV kind of girl, so I bought a Chevy Blazer. One day, I was pulling into Oak Park Mall. (A girl's got to shop!) As I was entering the mall, there is that very large sign that says, "Enter without stopping" (or something like that). So, while I'm driving and busy not stopping, I begin to realize the woman who has the stop sign is not stopping either. As much as I'm aware of this, there is nothing I can do. I'm heading south and she is heading west and physics say two objects in motion stay in motion until an opposing force is applied. She never stopped and my car become her opposing force.

You know those dreams you have where you are trying to run and can't? Your feet are moving, but you're going nowhere. Or, you speak, but it's slow-mo and no one can hear you or understand you? That became my reality. 1. I realize she isn't going to apply her brakes. 2. I realize we are going to collide. 3. I can't maneuver my car to avoid this. 3. She still isn't stopping after impact. 4. My ... car ... is ... going ... to ... tip .... O...V....E...R! It's going, slowly, over, is it? Is it? Yes, I think so. Is it? Yes! It isssssssss! Nooooooooo! Next thing you know, I'm on my right side haha! I gotta say, it was fun, I wasn't hurt snapped in safely in my seat belt, AND I didn't have to pay $30 including $5 off admission with a Coke can!

So what does all this have to do with anything? It was a fun story, don't you think? I just threw it in for some entertainment value! Just kidding! My Blazer was totaled, my friend told me I had to get a Jeep cuz they are awesome, so I did. That's how my true love and I met!

My Jeep, labeled "The Beast" by my son Matt, and I have been through a lot. She's had hail damage a couple times. Several wrecks have occurred, one on Thanksgiving. She has been stolen twice. The second time was in broad daylight at Walmart, and on my birthday! I tell ya, they mean it when they say prices keep dropping every day. The price of my Jeep had dropped to free that day. My Jeep has killed a couple of deers. Sorry, I don't know what she has against them. I personally like deer. The Beast has been through Matt learning to drive. One wreck later a (yes mom, I WAS following too close) and two blown speakers (no mom, I promise I didn't have the radio on full blast!) and he is now a very good driver! At least he didn't total her out. For that, I'm grateful!

Matt labeled her The Beast because she can drive over just about any curb and through most snow. She has doors of steel and a heavy chassis. I used to swap cars with Matt on snowy days because of his inexperience in driving when he was 15. He called me in the midst of his first wreck. "No, the Jeep isn't damaged at all. But.... You should have seen the trunk on that other car! It was folded in half! Tee - hee.

One particular snowy, typical winter Kansas day, our neighbor was stuck. For 30 minutes he was backing up, going forward, trying to get unstuck. He had this HUGE truck, not four wheel drive obviously. The driveway was behind his house and you had to go up an incline to get out to the street. Matt and I went over and pushed. It didn't budge. So, I offered to pull him out with the Jeep. He laughed at me, so we went back home. Hours later, his buddy came over to help him. The two of them tried all kinds of things to get him unstuck, to no avail. I walked over again. "We can try to use the Jeep to pull you out?" This time he was annoyed. "It won't work!", he said. His friend looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and said it's worth a try. 10 minutes later, the chains are attached and The Beast is pulling that big ass truck up and out of that snowy parking lot! Yup! I'm not one to say I told you so, so I just smiled and drove home with my Jeep. He didn't even say thank you. That's ok, I left with his ego so I got more than I needed!

Now that The Beast is getting old, I feel her pain when I hear the squeaks. I just keep her lubed up with fresh synthetic oil and a bath now and then and she is good to go. She likes a couple of pats on the dash and she always brightens up when I tell her how much I love her. Sure, I miss my Fiero (Matt and I had lots of fun riding in that two seater) but my Jeep and I have been through raising a family together. You just can't replace memories like that. We are growing old together, but we still have lots of exciting adventures left! I just hope we leave this world together at the same time. I don't think I can bear to be in this life for even one day without her!

Just Carol Ann, John or Bombshell? Hmmmm….

What is Bombshell, you may ask? Who are you dealing with when you get Bombshelled? Well, for starters, we are a pinup photography company. We take a photograph of our client and John digitally artworks it to appear as a hand painted, vintage Vargus / Elvgren style image with our own modern flair mixed in. We take women from all ages, races, walks of life, body types and we show that girl her own beauty in print. We show HER how gorgeous she is, all the while maintaining her body lines. We want to bring back curves. We want to change the media. We want to empower women. Bombshell is not just about the great image you get at the end of the process, but it's about the PROCESS. Yeah, yeah, you have heard that before. A million times! Blah, blah, blah. Enough, already! But, what is Bombshell REALLY about? What makes John tick? What makes Carol Ann tick? What makes Bombshell work? Would you like to know? Yes? Ok! I'm so glad you asked!

So, who is John? Well, he is a photographer and has been for 30 some years. He inspires other photographers. You can see that glazed look of awe when other photographers walk through the door and ask John for advice and help. And, he is the first one to give it. John loves his fellow photographer friends and they love him! Good people! It's a great thing!

John is a very giving person, sometimes to his detriment. There have been times when others steal his ideas, his methods, his practices, or just simply open up a shop next door on Mass street after working for him and being trained by him and undercut his prices and use his client base. Oops, did I say that out loud? My bad! Take back! Still, in spite of those few times, John has a huge heart and is one of the most giving people I know.

John truly has a natural ingrained talent at editing and artwork and can take just about any image and make it look great while still keeping the main aspects of the image intact. He has passion and inspiration and just wants to do what he loves most, all the time. Create. Fine art. Put his vision into print. He can look through the camera, pull out someone's soul, and display it in print. He can look at an image, see what it should look like, manipulate it, and whaa-laaa, an amazing image!

I love watching him work, as do others. If you were in our studio for a day, you would see people who come in for whatever reason, stop and stare over his shoulder, watching him create. It's impressive! It's fun! It's exciting working in a photography studio! (haha, that last line... think of the commercials back in the day: "it's exciting working in a medical office!")

John knew he wanted to be a photographer when he was in boy scouts and got his photography badge. He and a bunch of other boy scouts watched that image come to life (from nothing but an apparently blank piece of paper) in the dark room and he knew that was what he wanted to do! Forever! That was a long time ago!!! I'm surprised he can still remember that moment, it's been so long ago! But, he does remember it and you can see his blue eyes sparkle when he talks about it. That first magical moment. Most people grow up and then still can't figure out what they want to be.... I'm one of those! Sigh.

But anyway, enough about him!!! How did this end up being all about John? How did he manage to get all the limelight? John, john, john. Like what, he is that great artist. Big deal! That's just wrong. It's supposed to be all about ME! I'm the one who wants to be famous! Here I am, talking all day about John! No worries.... I will spare you all that extra verbiage and NOT talk about me. I will save "me" for another time! (Lord knows, I can talk, but I haven't seemed to figure out yet how to shut up!) THANK YOU, you say?! Hmmmmpphffff to you! Just kidding. Happy day!

xoxo,

Carol Ann

If you can't start your day with a smile on your face, then just go back to bed and try again!