We start to realize that there are anodynes in life that help us through the day. I don’t care if it’s a walk in the park, a look out the window, a goodbubble bath – whatever. Even a meal you like, or a friend you want to call. That helps us solve all this stuff in our head.~ Al Pacino (April 25, 1940 – )
I feel a bubble bath coming on, that’s right. I love bubble baths. When I was a kid I would crawl into a bubble bath and all my child’s worries and cares would sink into the water and disappear just like the bubbles in my bath, slowly dissipating. In that few moments, floating in the bath with the bubbles I am free, care-free and unconcerned about anything. It is my meditation and my release. As an adult I rarely take the time for a leisurely bubble bath anymore, but today, today is a bubble bath day. My favorite bubble bath aroma is cucumber melon and I am going to soak in the aromas and light the candles and just gel for about 20 minutes. Please don’t knock at my door or call on my phone, I am in Do Not Disturb mode. Leave a message at the beep!
Scooby-Dooby-Doo, Where are you? We got some work to do now.
Scooby-Dooby-Doo, Where are you? We need some help from you now.~Unknown
I am going off on a strange little tangent today. My hero when I was growing up was Scooby Doo, in fact he still is. I just loved that wonderful Great Dane with his goofy, stoned side kick Shaggy. And one had to wonder just what were in those Scooby Snacks anyway? I loved the supernatural freaks that my favorite canine crusader battled each day as I parked in front of the TV after school. I also loved the constant cast of famous stars, in cartoon form, like “The Monkees“, Don Knots and Laurel and Hardy, not to mention the groovy music and the Mystery Van. Weren’t you always wondering if Fred and Daphne were an item. I always did, and naturally assumed they were. Then there’s poor Thelma. Poor, poor Thelma, who, while being most of the brains behind the cartoon crime solvers, just never really fit in. I stopped watching Scooby Doo around the time that Scooby’s nephew Scrappy appeared, because frankly he got on my nerves, him and his damn “puppy power”! I still love Scooby and probably always will because he brings me back to a time when life was simple and the biggest problem of my day was figuring out how Scooby and the gang were going to bust the nefarious marauders.
If you don’t like something change it; if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it. Mary Engelbrei
Ok, so my therapist wants me to write a letter to my mom about all the resentments I have toward her. Damn man! Why? I am where I am in my thinking about my mother and I don’t understand why she wants me to dredge up past resentments that I have let go of. That is not the Buddhist way and I don’t like rolling that way. I think that a majority of women have resentments toward their mothers and no matter how good or evil their mothers are or were they are set up to fail no matter what they do. We daughters put a high level of expectation upon our mothers because that is the matriarch we look up to. It’s really not fair to them, if you think about. We take our mothers and place them upon this pedestal that I think not even the best of mothers can reach the pinnacle of and when they don’t reach our level of expectation we get angry and resentful. That’s not fair to them. They are human and fallible just like everyone, but I think we daughters look to our mothers as some sort of superhuman with no kryptonite and that’s our own fault. Sure, my mom was a self-involved creature and I know for a fact she never wanted children, but her moral beliefs would not allow her to “get rid” of us. She was more interested in partying and being free than being strapped to 3 children. Oh well, I can do nothing to change who she was then, I can’t change all the ways she let me down then, what I am capable of changing is the kaleidoscope I view our relationship through. I can chose to see all the colors as dark and bleak, or I can choose to see the color values that stand out the most, the positive colors and I can choose to forgive her and myself for not seeing all the pretty rainbow of colors sooner.
Aquarius Horoscope for week of May 24, 2012
It’s official: Dancing increases your intelligence. So says a report in the New England Journal of Medicine. Unfortunately, research found that swimming, bicycling, and playing golf are not at all effective in rewiring the brain’s neural pathways. Doing crossword puzzles is somewhat helpful, though, and so is reading books. But one of the single best things you can do to enhance your cognitive functioning is to move your body around in creative and coordinated rhythm with music. Lucky you: This is a phase of your astrological cycle when you’re likely to have more impulses and opportunities to dance. Take advantage! Get smarter.
Is Rob really telling me to dance?!? Does he not realize that I have two left feet and they are both going right? It’s so ironic, I can play music and keep a beat, but I can’t dance to save my life. Really, you ought to see it, it is something unnatural and un-synchronized. I used to love to dance when I was a little girl, did it all the time. I also was in gymnastics so I am not completely uncoordinated, I guess I just grew out of that whole I want to be a Solid Gold Dancer thing. I’ll leave the dancing to the “Dancing with the Stars” and in the mean time I think I will stick with crossword puzzles and reading books.
But I like to know that someone is stronger than I am. I want to be able to know that if I get tired, somebody is there to hold up the fort. I like knowing that I can’t pick a refrigerator alone. God did not make me strong enough to do that. Donna Summer
When I was reading the other day that Donna Summer had passed I was touched with a deep feeling of nostalgia and sadness. Nostalgia because my memories of Donna Summer are touched by some of my happiest childhood memories. I think it was around 1981 or 1982. We had moved to this great new house in the upper end of town and my mother had become best friends with Gloria, the woman who lived across the street from us. She had several children, including a girl my age named Lori. My mom and Gloria had a ritual of going out on a Friday or Saturday night every weekend. I would always end up over at Lori’s house. We would do what all little girls do, dream. We would take out her mom’s Donna Summer records and dream of the day when we would be old enough to actually go to a disco. Her mother had this great collection of disco clothes. The tight spandex type of pants that were oh so shiny. She had the spangled tops and some very cool disco dresses. We would raid her closet and change into disco outfits and put Donna Summer on and dance the night away, just singing and dancing until we dropped and then we would dream dreams of being Donna Summer. I remember thinking to myself back then that I thought that she was one of the most beautiful black women I had ever seen, in fact one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. It was with a deep sadness that I read that she had passed because another chapter of my childhood had closed. Peace be with you Donna, wherever you are, and thank you for some of the best memories of my childhood.