Compassion: A Curse and a Blessing

I believe I have an overactive compassion gene. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that’s a particularly bad trait, depending on how you look at it. For one thing, it means I’m not a psychopath since they tend not to have an ounce of compassion, let alone a conscience. So yay for me!

The reason I even brought this up is because I’m in animal rescue, specifically cats. Not that I don’t rescue other creatures. I’m what you would call an equal opportunity savior. Wait. That sounds pompous. Let me rephrase that. How about equal opportunity rescuer? Yeah, that’s better.

Now you’re going to think I’m a bit looney. And you wouldn’t be far off, especially when I tell you what I did the other day…So I’m having lunch at home when I reach for my glass of water and notice a fly inside, swimming frantically in circles. I’m not entirely certain flies swim but whatever it was doing, it looked frantic.

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You’re a Stinker

Years ago I read that during the filming of Gone with the Wind, Vivien Leigh was quoted saying Clark Gable had atrociously bad breath, making intimate scenes with him extremely unpleasant. To this day I can’t watch a Clark Gable movie without thinking about that and wondering if his female costars held their breath in his presence. His response? “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Just a guess…

Looks to me like she's holding her breath, don't you think?

Yep, definitely holding her breath

Movie stars have a certain image they portray on screen and it sometimes crosses over into real life. Many are glamorized and idolized — all those words ending with “ized.” But the truth often contradicts our impression of them, don’t you think?

Now don’t get me wrong; we all know the persona is an illusion the movie industry created. Still, nobody wants to hear the awful truth, like Bradley Cooper stinks. Yep, you read that right. He’s a…stinker

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Witchy Women, Chapter 2

Last week was Sharon’s 2nd Annual Witches and Wine Halloween party. Truth be told, I’m not a big costume person but one doesn’t want to miss this gathering. Lots of old friends and potential new ones gather to eat and drink the night away; two of my favorite things.

So while Sue drove us to Santa Rosa, we attempted to put on our Halloween fingernails. In hindsight, probably not the best choice of where to do that, which I realized when I dropped one between the seats. Say bye bye. But luckily we had 24, no doubt meant for clumsy people like me.

Being my first endeavor with fake fingernails, I hadn’t noticed they came in different sizes. So I pressed on whatever I happened to grab. Not until they were stuck like glue did I realize my mistake. I then pried off half the nails, which was no easy feat. Those little suckers meant business.

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My Adult Boutique Foray

Last weekend Renee, Joan and I helped give a wedding shower for Sharon’s daughter, Caitlin. We decorated Renee’s gargantuan chicken coop to resemble a fancy barn meant for celebrations because, in fact, that’s exactly what she uses it for. Greenery and lemons adorned the tables and strands of lights hung from the rafters. It was beautiful. But that’s not actually what this posting is about.

Renee and Caitlin

Renee and Caitlin

chicken coop

My wedding shower was 37 years ago and it seems things have changed in that department. Since many couples now live together before marriage, they often have what they need or want so apparently showers are often passé. At least that’s what I’m told. Back in the day, none of my friends nor I lived with our fiancés, so we actually needed “stuff.”

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m guessing some couples today wouldn’t mind receiving a Cuisinart or a large Le Creuset casserole dish. But I’m told the bachelorette party is actually where it’s at. Getting your besties together for an unforgettable night is a bigger deal now and I get that. But still, I love me a Cuisinart.Cuisinart Continue reading

How Embarrassing

This is embarrassing to admit, but since we’re buddies and I know you won’t judge me, I’m going to tell you what I did.

You know how pitiful my memory is, right? Unfortunately we’ve established this in numerous postings. But I’ve also been known to embarrass myself even when I’m alone, if that’s possible. And guess what?

I’m a note taker. This goes hand in hand with someone whose memory banks have a slow leak, sorta like a puncture in a Doughboy pool. Therefore, I’m lost without my precious notebook. Like a Visa card, I never leave home without it.

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