Last 4th of July, I was at a party with several people in and out of the Los Angeles theater scene. I happen to meet a lovely, intelligent and down to earth woman. She was actor, producer and writer.
She advised me to write a book. I sent her a few posts from this blog. Again, she told me to write the book about my life. She told me to call our host of the party to get advise.
I did speak to him. Got great advice. And now I must find my voice. It’s difficult, but I’ve started. Wish me luck!
I just finished watching a documentary on the abortion issue. It was very fair because it gave all sides a chance to express their views. Still I was left feeling slighted. I thought about the Pro-Choicers having to explain themselves at various angles, but not Pro-Lifers.
Why do women get abortions? It is an arduous and heartbreaking ordeal for anyone. Often it is for financial reasons, can’t handle another baby or she’s a teen with no assets. Let’s talk about her for a moment. More than likely, her mother is the sole supporter. Mom works at least two job. That scenario equals little to no supervision.
Teen love birds now have access to a sex pad because mom is working. Girl is willing to have sex because she feels abandoned by dad and mom is never around.
Now Pro-Lifers want to call this girl a whore because she can’t have a baby grow in her body and give it away after 9 months.
Did these Pro-Lifers shame this girl’s father? After all he refused to be a man and raise this young mother? Did these Pro-Lifers lobby Congress to raise the minimum wage so that mothers can have just one job so they can raise their kids? Do Pro-Lifers lobby for people that want to adopt, but can’t?
If Pro-Lifers want to save lives they need to save the mother’s life before she gets pregnant. EDUCATION!! This is the key! Kids must be taught before puberty. Adults need to report sexualized activity with young kids. Men have to teach boys how to be good men.
It is a biological fact that puberty happens. We all went through it. It’s ridiculous to ignore or shame kids for going through it. They need help and adults have a job to do.
I hear them say America needs to make American goods. Cost more money than good old China. So what? You want your jobs? You’re going to have to pay!
I hear them say poor people of color are thugs, thieves and rapist. Why is that? Is it because bigots with axes to grind are blindly hired. Vet and train your cops a hell of a lot better or else we all have to pay.
I heard them say abortions are evil and they need to shut those clinics down. Then guarantee a nation of fathers that teach their boys how to be good men. And girls get the attention they need from their fathers instead of paying for love with sex. Promise no more incest, molestation, degradation and bodily humiliation! Because it does exist! Will you mandate that law or is the price too much to pay?
I heard them say the poor are lazy parents at best! Is it because our single mothers work 2 and 3 jobs? Give them family leave and a damn living wage! Hey boss man, you’re going to have to pay!
I heard them say, keep those Muslims out. Well this Christian loves all good people. Especially the different ones from herself. What will it cost to keep and take them in. I will happily pay!
I posted this over two years ago. It’s hard to read but it’s honest.
There are certain things in the world that insist on being immortal. As a child, I believed that the world would change for the better by the time I was an adult. I was an optimistic child, therefore completely naïve.
I thought that love would end racism, homophobia and pretty much any other form of prejudice. To this day, when I see friendships or romance between different races and cultures (especially those from the south) I feel especially happy. Why is this?
We have our first black president. We have many people of color in positions of leadership in various areas of society. The ‘N’ word and other racial slurs are socially unacceptable. It can even get you fired or make you lose millions in endorsements.
So why is it that I think of race when I see various interracial socializing? Perhaps because my childhood and teenage years was affected by race. The issue of race was…
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My problem and yet happy asset in life has been to thoroughly examine the world. I am of course the microscope in this task. Find the real big picture and let it affect you.
What was beyond the bridge in that painting? How many grains of sand were on the beach? Has that beautiful woman been kind? These were my youthful thoughts.
Today I think about all the hugs, kisses and jokes issued by murdered victims when they were alive. How many of them donated money, time and heart to charities or the homeless?
How many hundreds or even thousands of people have been robbed of wisdom, tenderness and love from those that are no longer with us? Everyone loses. There can never be justice.
We are all grains of sand on the beach. We are bunched up together. If one shifts, others shift. Smiles exchanged by strangers at the market or restaurant matter.
Everything we do matters. We do not live is a vacuum. We need each other to know who we are. Ending one life corrupts, disrupts and erodes so many others.
I have had many medical issues throughout my marriage. Surgery for this. Therapy for that. An army of healthcare professionals armed with a plethora of medication.
When you’ve been plagued with various physical and mental challenges you really do test those marriage vows. They are much more than loving words in a religious ceremony.
My husband is my connection to everything … including him. I’m so grateful for that. He naturally identifies what I need or where I’m growing. He takes care of all of me.
Everything good in me shines on the platform he provided. This blog is housed in the tablet my love gifted me. My husband truly gets me and loves me in whatever state I’m in.
Imagine walking around knowing that you are safe, really safe with your partner in life. I trust my man with every fiber of my being because he’s earned my trust from the day we first met.
Loving my husband is effortless. Celebrating his life is a joy and an honor. My husband’s name is Scott and tomorrow we will celebrate his birthday.
God blessed me before I was born. Out of all the guys in the world … I am perfectly loved by the right one. Thank you for being born and wrapping me in your arms.
For the past two weeks I’ve been going to outpatient physical therapy. It mercifully involves hot packs and back massages by a lovely PT. She worked with me after my knee replacement surgery and we get along great.
I’ve also been blessed with muscle relaxants prescribed by my rock star neurologist. What does it do for me? It makes me sleepy and decreases my back pain.
The pins and needles sensation in my legs have greatly decreased, but I still have the weakness. On good days I use a cane to go out. On bad days it’s the walker. I’m noticing that stairs (my nemesis) aren’t as challenging as they use to be.
My body doesn’t feel itself, but it can do more now. I can leave my house and visit with grateful people. Everyone thanks me and my husband for coming out. I make the effort because they’re worth it.
Does this mean I’m inching my way back to normal? Normal has been such a world away from me for an eternity. My house is set up for a disabled, brain damaged writer. I can do a lot of things – with a few adjustments.
Normal scares me because I don’t really remember who “normal me” is anymore. I still don’t want to drive. The old me drove everywhere and all the time. Is the old me still around? Maybe normal should just hang back for a while.
After two weeks in a coma, I was transferred from the hospital to a nursing home filled mostly with seniors.
My roommate was dying and in pain. My heart went out to her. Thankfully she blessed with a loving and dutiful daughter. Her daughter was very kind to me as well.
Almost all the staff was kind and caring. Until towards the end of my stay. I was vomiting bile for two weeks. I ate nothing. It was nearly impossible to keep medication down. I feasted on water and ice chips.
My roommate’s daughter was tired of her mother’s suffering and arranged the escape to a hospital. Once she was gone, my condition got worse and I had a forgetful nurse.
I had to use the toilet. My nurse had to help me. She wiped me as if I was cardboard. Then put me back into bed. The worse comes 10 minutes later.
I had to go again. After ringing for her she yelled at me! She said she was on her break. Then shouted at me, what’s wrong with you? I said I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. She said, me neither.
After putting me in bed (roughly) I cried quietly. I assessed the situation. I can’t walk, eat, wipe myself and a nurse just told me off. I called my husband and begged to be taken out of this place.
It took an eternity (from my point of view) to be sprung. I went to a great hospital. I was treated with dignity, compassion and professionalism for three days.
Then I went home. A careless psychiatrist started this rollercoaster by not monitoring my lithium levels. I always did as I was told. I’m 46 years old and I was defenseless.
Thank God I can move now.
I’m very tired. I can’t go to sleep in 12 hours I outpatient physical therapy. Maybe I should just turn my Kindle off and count 🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑
Good night fellow bloggers.
"Everyone needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to the soul" -John Muir
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