One Life to Lizzle

I know very little about Snoop Dogg. Up until recently I only knew he was skinny, with braids, rapped and made up some kind of silly language of his own that seemed only to add "izzle" to random words in his vocabulary mixed with street language I didn't get.
Imagine my surprise when I found out he and I share a guilty pleasure. He has watched One Life to Live ever since he was a little boy!
Imagine. His mother, Mrs. Dogg, used to watch it in their "crib"(which in case you don't know means not a bed) and he is hooked! Not only is he a fan but he is going to make an appearance on the show for a couple of days. I don't know if he is coming on as himself or what but I sure would like to see him with Vicki--she is such a proper lady. Or with Dorian, who is such a Bi-otch. They probably wont get to meet him though. He will probably be at the night club with the younger set.
Get this, he even reworked the show's theme song! I can hardly wait to hear that. Off the top of my head I can't even hum the song to myself but I am sure it will be delightful. It probably will be a rap and I can't even begin to guess how it will go, not being much of a poet myself.
Believe me, stranger things have happened on Snoop's and my favorite show than a gangsta rapper coming to Llanview. Come to think of it , this is one of the most normal things to happen in a long time. For shizzle!!

Clean Slate

I love the morning. Somehow the promise of a new day opens up a myriad of opportunities and possibilities. I always feel my best in the morning. I feel energized and happy and excited. As the day wears on though some of this fades so I am not one of those super-chipper people.
The morning means you can start your diet over again. Even when you blew it all to smithereens yesterday with the hot fudge sundae or a Big Mac and fries. You are fresh and a new. Anything is possible. Twelve hundred calories for the day is more than enough. Just think of all the lettuce you can eat!
The morning means you can finally start that project. It might be spring cleaning or writing a novel. You can mentally picture yourself busy at the task and feel the pride and joy in your accomplishment making your blood course through your veins. Before you know it your house will be spic and span and you will be a famous author(or actress or singer or diplomat).
The morning holds open the door for your exercise program to begin. Especially if it is a sunny day. You can easily take your walk(after your 300 calorie breakfast or before if you prefer) or your jog or go to the gym and start the day off right. Think of the energy you will have for the rest of the day so you can get started on that famous thing!
Some people love the morning because they finally get that first cup of coffee. Not me. I've never been much of a coffee drinker. Love the aroma, hate the taste. Unless of course it is one of those coffees that you get at the specialty stores with flavors and whipped cream--you know, the 3,000 calorie breakfast!
I used to love breakfast too. Especially when it came with doughnuts. Now that it is eggs or a high fiber cereal, I don't really care for it much. I sure don't feel hungry in the morning.
Anyway, chalk me up as being a morning person. Just don't expect me to have the same goals or ambition after 11:59 a.m.!

I WANT THAT!

Yesterday we were watching the SciFi channel. They have some really clever promotional ads that they run between programming. The one I really like is a young woman who arrives in a truck and as she gets ready to exit the vehicle it transforms down to the size of a quarter and she tosses it in her purse. I want that! How cool would that be. You would never have to worry about a parking place and you could drive right up to the door of anywhere! And she chucked it into a clutch bag so you don't even need a really big purse. That is right up my alley.
Another vehicle I want really exists. It is called a segue. It is a scooter that you propel with your body . Just lean forward and off you go Lean to the left or right and that is the way you go. I love that thing! The employees at Epcot use them and I just go green with envy.
Speaking of going green, it would be a great way to do that. I think they should be standard issue when you turn 50 anyway. You stay more in the neighborhood as you get older and it would be an easy way to go from the house to the grocery or over to a neighbor's.
Some gated communities only let you use a golf cart. I'd love one of those too. I don't play golf but who cares about that? I like the idea of tooling around in a little vehicle that is open like a golf cart. You could feel the wind in your hair.
Bikes are good too. It took me until the fourth grade to learn to ride a two wheeler without training wheels(oh, I know) so it is a skill I would want to keep for the rest of my life. It is also a healthy activity.
The only trouble with a bike is that if you are going to ride for any length of time, you really need a helmet. Talk about the funniest looking accessory, the helmet is it. Every time I see one of those bike helmets, even on Lance Armstrong, they make me laugh. They make everyone look like a mushroom head! I am still a little vain so I don't think I would like that. Maybe, if it was pink........

A Sad Day

I just heard that an old friend and colleague passed away last night. Pat was a fellow teacher and she even spent a year or two teaching kindergarten with me. She was fun and funny and kind and an advocate for kids.
We shared a student named R. He was always in trouble and came to me in first grade with a reputation of misbehavior and uncooperativeness. His mom left him that year with his blind father. R was a handful but there was something about him that I just loved. In second grade, he had Pat. She loved him too. We were probably the only two who ever cut him a break and enjoyed him, warts and all. She told me a couple of years ago that she had seen him and he was doing well. He even hugged her.
Our school building was old and every spring we would get a mouse infestation. For some reason, they always turned up in Pat's classroom. They were so bold that they just came out and ran over the kids' feet. She taught across the hall from me and I could hear her kids screaming. It was pretty funny so we made an old box into a "Mouse Hotel" and presented it to her.
She was always positive and looked at the good side of life. Her house had a terrible fire a few years ago and she and her husband had to live in an apartment for a while. Awful, right? Not for Pat. She told me that she was enjoying apartment living. It was different and she was having some new experiences.
Her house was beautiful. After they moved in(the first time) I went over and did some decorative painting. I was glad to be able to do something for her and I loved her for appreciating my creative side. I think the painting got wrecked in the fire and the insurance guy said that must have been expensive and she told him IT WAS!!! I laughed right out loud when she told me that.
I can see her laughing face in my mind's eye. I can hear her voice. My heart breaks for her family but I am glad her suffering is at an end. God bless you, Pat. You will be missed.

Mammogram Day

Yesterday was my mammogram day. I also had a sonogram of my kidneys done. No worries. Just scheduled for the same day so I didn't have to go twice. Smart move. I had to go into radiology and change my clothes. Standard operating procedure. They gave me a gown and a robe. That is unusual and it is really nice. Very private, if you know what I mean.
I wore jeans and red socks and camel loafers. I wore a sweater in case it was cold in the hospital.
I looked nice because I had other things to do later in the day.
Then I made a fatal mistake. I looked in the full length mirror. Oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was now wearing a hospital gown and robe and red short socks and loafers(with kitten heels no less).
How could I possibly leave the dressing room looking like that? I thought of taking off the socks but then my feet would stick inside the shoes. I hate that. I couldn't go barefoot because the nurse said to wear my socks and shoes. Oh, well. Things could be worse.
THEY WERE!! I made the mistake of checking out my legs. Is there a color that is whiter than white? That is the color of my legs. And skinny!!!!!! Little chicken legs sticking out of that huge gown and robe(one size fits all)! Now I really didn't want to go out to the waiting room.
Nobody else had on a robe and gown. Just me. But I had to go.
In the waiting room, I thought I saw a few smirks but I ignored them. The other women just sat quietly watching TV. I decided that was a good idea as I would have an hour between my two tests. I put my attention on the show and it was ESPN.
Now I don't mind sports. I love football and sometimes I even love baseball. I can watch any sport for a while and enjoy it. But watching scores and recaps for an hour is not my idea of fun. This day was already going to be not much fun so I decided to change the channel.
I asked the other women if they minded and one looked so relieved and said Please. So my white legs and I crossed the room and changed to the Today Show. All the others smiled and I felt better about my appearance because I was still me. I had the guts to change the channel. If someone had said no I think I would have picked up a magazine but nobody did. Those women were going to sit there and watch ESPN even though they didn't want to!
SO my point is I guess I don't really care that I have skinny,white chicken legs as long as I have the courage to change the channel!

Bowling for Dollars

I always was a lousy bowler. I just can't get the hang of how you coordinate those steps and swinging your arm straight. Bowling in public was, for me, embarrassing at least, mortifying at best. One time I threw the ball and it went over into the lane next to where I was bowling. Now that is terrible. My all time high was 96 and I was so happy to get that much, I can't tell you. I bowled one strike in my life.
Actually, I was on a bowling team once a long time ago. I'm sure they wished I would quit. They got their wish soon enough. My favorite part of bowling was going to the bar for a drink afterward.
Apparently, I would meet Barack Obama in there. He is another hapless bowler. He bowled a 37 for goodness sakes! Did you see him with the bowling shoes? He looked like he wished he had surgical gloves on! I admire the guy for even putting them on his feet. He also got a gutter ball. With that score he probably got more than one but I only saw the one. On TV. Is this guy brave or what? Not able to be commander in chief....come on.
I also saw him drinking a beer and eating a hot dog. Brave and brave again. Do you know what is in a hot dog? Me, either.
Anyway I am thinking of inviting Mr. Obama to join a bowling league. We can call ourselves The Under One Hundreds. We can all put our dollars into a treasury and at the end of the season, we can give prizes. I want to win the prize for the lowest scoring team. I am going to ask Barack to be on my team!

Sisters, sisters

I am listening to Angela Landsbury talk about her sister's battle with ALS, Lou Gehrig disease. She is using her fame and the accolades coming her way to do good. She wants her sister to be remembered and she wants her life to effect others in a positive way. It got me thinking about sisters.
A friend of mine and I were discussing our sisters recently. We both agreed we would never want to be very far away from them. The connection is so important to us we couldn't live in a world without it. We were talking about moving to another state and she said she could never do it because she wants to stay close to her sister. I will move wherever my sister wants to live.
I guess sisters can be annoying. Ours aren't. Maybe that's because there are just two of us. My friend only has one sister too. I guess when we were kids we had spats and problems but I don't remember any of them. I guess we've had our differences as adults too but I don't remember any of them very well.
A sister is more than a friend. Nobody else shares my experiences from childhood til now like she does. She knows all the dirt about me and chooses not to tell anyone else my shortcomings. She and I can laugh like nobody's business. We get each other's humor and usually the same things strike us funny. She can get me laughing so hard that I can hardly breathe and I love it!
A sister knows how much you weigh. Not even my husband knows that. If I lose I would tell him how much but the actual number I only share with my sister. I know I can tell her because she will never tell. We can talk about how it is so unfair that we can't have a piece of candy without feeling guilty or gaining a pound. We can tell each other what strategy works for us and not expect the other one to do the same thing.
A sister encourages you to use your talents. She's willing to tell you if you are doing a good job or if you aren't working up to your potential. She knows what you are capable of. She knows what makes you happy. She will tell you when you are making yourself miserable.
I guess that is what Angela Landsbury felt for her sister and how much she must miss her. Nobody wants to lose their sister. I guess you always hope you will go first.
Now I know not all sisters have this relationship. How sad for the women who can't appreciate this special bond. I don't know what could possibly get in the way because fortunately for me, my sister and I are forever friends.