%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  My Blog. Generally Intended for Reading-Not Eating!. |
|
Rose-Tinted Ramblings ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** A Little of What You Might Expect & A Lot of Everything Else that You Don't!. My writing style for my blog is invariably 'snarkastic'. This is because I am a nice, unassuming and quietly-spoken person IRL-and this blog is where my innermost moments and torments happen. Trust me, I am no exception to that delightful rule. Greetings! Welcome to my THIRD blog here on WDC. A re-incarnation of my earlier version of my Blog, here "Insanties and Sensibilities" this v.03 should prove to be equally...challenging and hopefully, entertaining. That said, life often weaves through our writing in mysterious ways, and this Blog will probably prove to be no exception to that. We are very likely all quite different, yet the same, us writers and our collective little whims, fascinations and insecurities. |
August 09, 2009. Well, I'm still preparing to color my hair pank -my thanks to all who sent supportive comments - not everyone feels like they can do this to their hair - especially once you're a 'responsible dolt.'. I'm not going to bleach my hair beforehand, because it will fry my hair too badly-and I'm already platinum in places, between a mix of highlighting myself, and sun exposure. So, I think that there's enough porosity in my existing hair for the color to take and last well. It's a semi-perm, and in my experience, on my hair, semi perms last....forever. The color is called Flamingo Pink. I also recently ordered a neon pink lip-gloss from a company called Illamasqua, who create colors based on artistry, rather than just following fashion trends. Seeing the hair and the lip-color together will be interesting!-well, to me, anyway. Followers of this blog will know that my quest for the as yet elusive HG (Holy Grail) pink lip-color has been an ongoing one.  Ahh-Beanie is out a music event with her uncle. Instant P&Q!. Which really means a chance for yet more writing, listening to something non-Nickelodeon, and adult for a change. But, I'll likely try and fit in a walk, too-since it's such a warm, sunny day out there, and I can't resist sunshine, especially while we still have it. Soon enough, we'll all be complaining about cloudy days. More later-hopefully avec pics of 'new do'. Tah-rah!. |
| July 30, 2009. ...nostalgic and listening to New Zealand singer/songwriter, Dave Dobbyn-"Naked Flame" is an awesome track- densely and intensely memory-stoked for me. Reminds me of an Aussie-surfer-guitarist dude who I had a Summer romance with back in 1993. Fantastic guy. Ahh-for the next five nights and four days, "Beanie" is vacationing up at the mountain-house. That's like an eternity in Rainbowappleland. I've gotta tell you-that fact makes for all sorts of opportunities-both delicious and ambitious. Still, it's all too easy and tempting to just procrastinate, and that time will simply wither away, soon enough, without any encouragement whatsoever. Which means that I'd better get my A Into G. Definitely!. |
July 25, 2009. So, yesterday was a slight waste of time, because of my being confined to bed all of the afternoon. Sick. Something must be happening to my internal system. I can’t seem to tolerate eating anything that’s processed anymore-it tastes incredibly toxic to me. That, and I think that I have a gluten intolerance. Am feeling all new and improved, today, though. Am right in the midst of writing an article on the justification (or not) of the legal defense of provocation in homicide cases. I want to send it to several high-profile people in New Zealand, just to add fuel to the fiery debate. Technically, I’m not ‘supposed’ to be mentioning a particular case because it’s currently still before the courts-the Weatherston one --- see a few entries back. Life is filled with the murmurings of “not supposed to’s”. At one point, back when I was young and idealistic, I wanted to become a criminal attorney. My uncle made a career out of being a barrister and solicitor for 53 years. Then, I glanced at the first professional year in laws required reading list from the best law school in the country, and rapidly recoiled. I like to read, but that was just ridiculous. Not only that, but the retention of all of that information, combined with inductive and deductive reasoning. Now, I have more insight into what that kind of work entails.  My delightful husband has been extremely productive around our household lately- yesterday, he diligently shampooed all of our downstairs carpets and furniture with his commercial grade cleaning machine, and made me some gorgeous new wooden chopping boards for the kitchen bench. I’m spoiled. After that, he made his own brand of chicken noodle soup and freshly-baked corn bread for tea. Can you say that I’m therefore double-spoiled?. He’s working all this weekend, too-poor lamb. His disgusting laundry pile is therefore forgiven. His socks are not just putrid, but petrified. If I smelled as bad as that, I’d be petrified, too.  Gave away most of my clothes yesterday, to a friend who was more in need than I am. After all, it’s just ‘stuff and things’, eh?. Flicked a five dollar note in the general direction of a local homeless guy who I know by sight. He said that he was going to go and buy himself a burger and a beer. Good on him, I say. He always makes me laugh with some of his more telling philosophical protestations. Absolute gold dust, as yet undiscovered. Ah, the price of happiness in this supposedly great land. “Beanie” duly mowed through her daily preschool workbook, today-so she’s just gone to a local kite festival with her uncle. Which is my cue to clean the upstairs. ....another short entry ..... |
| July 23, 2009. “Your personal experiences, perspectives and circumstances can shape, determine and influence your life's pathway. Lesser or greater, better or brighter, each of us is an individual. Nothing of human nature, in my opinion, is more vital, more precious and more valuable. “-Rainbowapple in “Destiny of a Disability”  Yeah, we’re all the same, but different. Talking about reasons why, not just making excuses and shit up.  Sometimes, I can wax on all philosophical…and sometimes, I can be just plain, flat-out lazy…and far out, dude-it’s almost the weekend, again!. I’ve ordered my new walking shoes, after six weeks of supreme procrastination, and pending no repeat performances, I’ll be back pounding pavements. After that, all that I’m needing to do is to burn some motivating music onto our MP4 system, and I’m out of excuses. Slotting Beanie into a something of a structured school routine will help tremendously with that, too.  Blew the dust (literally) off my medical journal article ‘file-pile’, last night. Saw an awesome Harvard Grad School extension paper available. I’m considering enrolment. Not as expensive as New Zealand Med School, but still stonking, since I’m refusing any financial aid. It’s a real trap. I become antsy when I’m not being challenged. My skills are high maintenance, that way. A new direction is making those skills work for me, and not vice-versa. A lot of ‘qualified’ professionals like me are unemployed at the moment. No desperation-yet. More about my biding my time. Still.  Watched, “Dead Like Me-Life After Death”. I dunno-despite the graphic novel additions, I just didn’t like it as much as the earlier television seasons. It was left open at the end for a possible comeback.  Late dinner, tonight. Likely, our own brand of hamburgers. Extra toppings. Growed-up hamburgers. Gourmet. Grass-fed, aged beef. None of this corn-fed ‘pretend’, faux, pseudo, capitalistic cow. Not that the poor, unsuspecting cow knows how those distinctions work. I can just hear nineteen year old vegans debating the consumption of non-human animals, now. .You say Veegan-I say Vaygan…. Such a disjointed entry with so many jumbled thoughts. I should just hit Del, while I’m ahead. |
| July 19, 2009. I've worked the last 24 hours on four hours sleep. We had a catering gig today, at Trinity River, doing a full picnic buffet lunch (with a full Vegan option) for a rafting crew of 30. It was 100+ degrees, so absolutely everything had to be transported in and out, on ice-a four hour drive. I've just got done rinsing all of the food containers, sorting recycling and doing inventory-making sure that each item that we took, is back and accounted for. I've also done all of our housework for the weekend, tonight. After a long, hot shower, I'm relieved to be able to begin to unwind. |
July 14, 2009.  On this day, 20 years ago, my Dad broke the news to us that he was facing terminal cancer. Four months later, he died. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. I'm really worried about my brother. I instantly recognized the tone in my mother's voice during our most recent phone call. It's her 'coping' voice. Not a whole lot that I can do from here, and that adds to my sense of frustration and isolation. Spent yesterday at work with my husband, at the Moonstone Beach Grill, on an emergency call. "Beanie" and I briefly went down to the beach to build a castle, but there was quite a strong, bitterly cold breeze down there, and we got sand and wind burned. My husband's back there, today. We're at home, catching up on...chores. I was up most of the night, bothered by my asthma. |
| Sunday, July 12, 2009, My brother spent last night hospitalized with Swine Flu. He has to stay home from work for the next five days, and his entire shift of workers have to have preventive treatment and monitoring. I hope that his seven-month old baby girl will be virus-free. Always bloody something... Oh, and I STILL haven't heard back about that job. Disgusting, really. |
| July 08, 2009. The following entry contains material/words that may be offensive to some people. And, yes, I have an 18+ rating, already. Sh*t me-am I TIRED!. Mind you, while "Beanie" was up at the mountain house for the July 4th weekend, I was watching episodes of "Dead Like Me" off Hulu until 3:30 in the a.m. or later. I adore the quirky "black" humor writing, which is perfectly paired with the MA rate. So, I went to my job interview. Me, three shrinks and a picnic table. Sounds like the beginning of some corny joke-only it was very real-trust me. I dressed black, professional and flowing... Really wanted to wear black dress pants, but, instead opted for a skirt. Remembered to cover my cleavage, too. Interview lasted 7 minutes to the dot. Appreciated that I was experienced and versatile..and relatively mentally stable. Everything's relative-relative. I'll hear back by the end of this week. Household is running amazingly well. For now. Pending something blowing up/off. Which means one option - writing. if it doesn't get superseded by the looming material monster otherwise known as the dirty laundry pile. Still, my beloved is working tonight, and I do appreciate the ... silence. Oh, wait-"Beanie" is home. And, she can load the washer and dryer. I wonder how many coins I can bribe her with?. .... |
| Friday, July 03, 2009. Whether the Weather be: 60 (F) Afternoon sun. Events of Note: 80s Flashbacks In the Nudes: Palin to resign from office at the end of July. *Today's is an especially long entry-one that I will likely edit into smaller chunks later. For now, it's just free-flow. I was raised as a no-doubt teenager of the 80s, through and through. Acid wash jeans, "Moonboots" (kinda like bulky white hi-tops), big hair, raised collars-the full-monty. Posters of "Flashdance", "The Cure", and "Whitesnake" plastered on my bedroom walls. For all of that, I was particularly music oblivious-singing in the senior high school choirs, performing on-stage in theatrical and musical competitions happened for me a little later on. I was a late bloomer, that way. My best friend in high school was an incredible dancer-jazz ballet, tap and contemporary dance. She was Australasian dance champion in all categories and styles for numerous years running. She was so dedicated that she had a purpose-built dance studio at her house. Sometimes, she would spontaneously burst into an impromptu dance in the school gymnasium. I remember, one day, when were 13 years old, she pulled some amazing slide, acrobatic and majestic moves to, "Dirty Diana". A total transformation into the character of the sultry, seducing groupie depicted in MJ's song video. It was...to my sheltered little mind --breathtaking. Most everyone has some type of "Who am I?" moment in their teen years, and this was mine. After that day, I devoted much more time to my ongoing physical rehab routine (I underwent four lots of major orthopedic surgery throughout the 80s). I did ten miles a day on a stationary exercise bike, I pumped 50lbs of iron for 45 minutes a day, and another two hours a day of stretches designed to improve and build my strength and agility. I developed impressive shoulders-like a competitive swimmer. For my 14th birthday, my father gave me the best Sony Walkman on the market at the time. My father never let me leave the property with those headphones plastered to my ears-he worried that it made me vulnerable to being attacked by some stranger. So, how many hours I ran around our ranch, listening to MJ, on that small, unsophisticated stereo, I could not tell you. Back then, all I craved was normality. To walk like everyone else did. To do what everyone else did. To not have any more surgeries-or additional post-surgery complications from them-as I did for two surgeries-like nerve damage and infection. After one hospitalization, I contracted a second, really serious bout of German measles. A rare event. Confined in a darkened room to protect my skin and my eyesight, I listened to the lyrics of the latest MJ pop song sensation. Living in a small nation, as I did, it often seemed as if the entire country was magically and instantly swept away in some kind of all-consuming music mania-especially when "Man in the Mirror" came out. Meanwhile, an aggressive skin infection was steadily eating away the flesh at the back of my left knee. That surgical scar has since proven to be the most difficult to treat and minimize-and the one that attracts the most attention and stares from people. Especially men. I nicknamed it my "Mirrror Scar". So, as for so many people, Michael Jackson's music has been the soundtrack to their personal histories and the accompany memories of so many lives. I can empathize with the dude. He was a gifted man, but one who was...to not overuse the cliches-highly misunderstood, maligned -and in the end, likely medically mislead. I have Jackson's music to attribute to some of my accomplishments and for contributing to my quality of life. Thanks to his walk, I can walk my own. |
| Thursday, July 02, 2009. Whether the Weather be: 50 (F) Foggy, gray and chilly. Events of Note: Filing applications for a real J.O.B. In the Nudes: Tylenol taken in excess is bad for the consumer. *Thanks to a New Zealand Herald blogger for inspiring today's blog entry topic. As a writer, I sometimes wonder what will happen to my writing once I lose interest, drop off the face of the earth, move on, or die. Will I leave behind a worthy writing legacy, to the point where non-writing people can categorically remember and say, "Yes, they were a writer". Perhaps not an outstanding nor noteworthy writer, but, a writer, nonetheless?. Further, many more of us have maintained written journals and online blogs. At some, or many points in our lives, a great number of us will also have written love letters -- be they the passionate old-fashioned ink and decorated paper variety -- or of the off-hand, free-flow, emotive electronic mail kind, sent in an instant, and never thought much of again.  But when the relationship or encounter ends or turns sour, what happens to the correspondence?. I once had all of my letters returned, after a particularly devastating relationship ending. At the time, it felt like another painful weapon of spite and revenge used against me. That intimate part of me longer existed within that person's realm...and I found it disturbing and unsettling. Now that I am, shall we say, more enlightened and self-aware, I've reached the conclusion that my former companion didn't want my letters to be 'accidentally' discovered. The background to our former relationship was highly personal (and very probably libelous), so I won't divulge it, here. Nevertheless, since that time, that experience and the accompanying realization, made me appreciate the importance of thinking about how delicate communication can be. Most of all, how such sensitive information should be preserved, protected and secured. As well as what could be the delicate consequences of disseminating that information to a second source. In addition, we don't have to be a high profile politician who was 'outed' for an extra-marital affair, simply because he was unfortunate enough to be caught-and whose almost adolescent-like, electronic love letters to his mistress, were scattered to the four continental winds faster than squirming cable newsreaders could dodge from breathlessly divulging their highly intimate contents. It's happened before now, and it will doubtless happen to some poor, unsuspecting publicly-elected official again. As long as it makes the nightly newscasts and serves to fuel constituents collective expressions of moral outrage, people in the public eye will always be subject to 'secret snoopers'. Us regular folk are not immune from such skull-duggery, either. Author, beware!. My husband and me corresponded by electronic and snail mail for a full 12 months before we met in-person. Our correspondence progressed and evolved as naturally and easily as our affection and passion for one another did. We have well over 1300 letters stored on a secured second hard-drive, for posterity. When we applied to the U.S. NCIS (Naturalization, Citizenship and Immigration Service) to have the two year marriage-residency condition removed from my Green Card, we had to show copies of all of our 'love' correspondence, as one of the officially sworn affirmations that our relationship (and subsequent marriage) was genuine and based solely on love, not as a means nor ends of duping the U.S government out of something. They still have those copies. Somewhere in my immigration file is stored every word, phrase, observation, dream, plan, emotion and descriptive feeling expressed throughout our blossoming romantic relationship. No big deal to me...just worthy of a moment's pondering on my part. Yet, some might see this as an affront to freedom and privacy. I'm not a U.S citizen, so I cannot exercise, plead or call on those particular 'rights'. I'm an officially sanctioned in-love, legal alien-in-situ  So, next time, when you're caught 'in the moment' of passionate communiques , spare a thought for wanting to be remembered. Or, secreted away. Or, maybe, those sweet words are better off being whispered, instead. Because, you never know just where they might end up. Or, how those words, thoughts and emotions might come back to haunt you!.Have an expressive day!. It's July-things could be worse... |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
