Kristina Furey

Early Christmas gift Dan made for me


Today I just want to share an early Christmas gift I got.  There is a preface to this gift...  I was listening to 1A on NPR and they were discussing plastic and how it's everywhere now and it's really becoming a problem.  Here's a link:  

I've been kind of paranoid about my health having lost my brother, my father, and my mother to cancer.  I kind of bounce back between that and feeling extremely rebellious.  I'm sure there's anger and dis-satisfaction in these feelings.  So, I realize I've got this plastic cutting board.  I look at it and I run my hand over it and I feel all the scratches from my knives over the top of it and realize it's missing a lot of really tiny pieces, of plastic where the cuts and scratches are...  So I decide I'm going to buy a wood one. I discussed the whole thing with Dan and he tells me he will make me one.  Which instantly calms my mind over the whole cutting board thing because it's so real in my head now that we are hurting our health and lives are shortened for the unnatural direction we as people keep going in.  

And this is what he made for me...   


A modern day holiday carol


This is a short story.  My own modern twist, on Oliver Twist's, Authors, other story.  ;-)

And this story begins with YOU…  

It was a chilly evening, evidence that a cold front was on it’s way and a sure sign that winter was coming.  You briefly consider the events in the news, the women coming out in droves, the Tax Reform Bill… and then your mind turns to the latest tweets, click bates and briefly, you consider if you should post something but stop, just short of doing so, as the evening news pulls you in.  Your mind keeps pushing back that thought about that family, you know the one with the sick child as you consider what might happen if things like CHIP go away    Then you remember, you wanted to check out some new tech products online as the desire to have the latest greatest, begins to fill you with a rush of dopamine that begins to erase all worries and cares…  

You have no recollection of the time that has passed, you only realize that you somehow lost it there on your computer.  Then suddenly, your computer seems to come to life, typing out  words before you eyes.  It appears to be some sort of warning.  It says you will be visited by various entities tonight.  You look at the beverage that has accompanied you on your computer surfing, expedition and decide it might be best you go to bed now.

The sound of a child and the feeling of an earthquake yank you from your sleep as you wake to find a child jumping on your bed.  You realize, it is a playmate from your youth that appears to not to have aged since childhood.   They jump off the bed and begin running around your room reminding you of the games you played as a child with them and some of the adventures you went on together.  They say, “Do you remember what that was like?”  They remind you of TV shows and movies and about that crush you had and then they ask you, “Do you remember what you used to say you would be when you were an adult?”  They remind you of times you spent with your group of friends.  Then they get this sad look on their face as they recall how you went your separate ways and their voice trails off as you find yourself abruptly awoken by yet another presence in your bedroom.   You rub your eyes, confused, you could have sworn that dream you just had was real.  You hear noises and see something lurking in the dark.  You stare into the darkness and call out, “Who’s there?”   The presence moves closer and you find yourself, face to face, with yourself.  Your image being reflected in a mirror that has made it’s way to your bedside.  There is just you and the mirror in the room, yet you also hear a voice you do not recognize as your own, in your head.  You hear words you once read in Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol”  “Come in and know me better”.    Ever so quietly in the distance you think you hear something that sounds like U2, it’s “One”.  You look around and with your vision now a little better in the dark, you try to locate where the music is coming from.  Could it be coming from inside the mirror you wonder?  You hear words in your head again, “I have had more than 18 hundred brothers.”  Again, you somehow recall those were words in that Dicken’s book… “Why would I know that?” you wonder…

The mirror starts to behave like a TV showing you various scenes of places and people around the world and the voice tells you “This is happening right now.”  You see family and friends going about their lives.  You see strangers.  Some are just going about their lives and some you realize, are really struggling with things.  Then you see a child spying on their parents and hear what the child is hearing.  The parents are discussing bills and how they will afford Christmas gifts for their children.  They are discussing what might happen if the Children’s Health Insurance Program is not funded.  They can barely afford the health insurance costs they have and feel like they are dangling over bankruptcy as it is…  “Those politicians have sold us down the river.”  “That’s why business and government should be kept separated, like church and state.”  “I have to work overtime tomorrow.”  “I thought you were taking Tim to his appointment? I guess Martha and Belinda will have to walk home from school, while I take him.”  “Belinda’s had such a terrible cough.  Seems like it’s been going on a month now…  She seems healthy otherwise, right?”  “Kids get colds, she’ll be okay.  Make sure they remember to take their hats and mittens.”  “I was really counting on a bonus this Christmas but I heard today that won’t be happening.”  Well you have your job and that’s something to be thankful for…”  “So I was thinking, in lieu of personal gifts this year, why don’t we just get something like a jigsaw puzzle and a new deck of cards…  you know, family gifts…  and then I can make some play dough to put in the kids stockings…  We can spend the day together playing and putting the puzzle together…  it will be a good opportunity to spend some time together as a family.  I told you I have to work News Years right?”  The child spying from behind the door says a little prayer but you can’t hear them.  You hear more words from that Dicken’s novel.  “If these shadows remain unaltered by the future the child will die.”  And so will many more.  

The child in the mirror is replaced by You, reflecting back at you and to each side of you, there are two emaciated children without faces.  Where their faces would be there are words.  One one child bares the word “Ignorance” and the other child the word “want”.   The mirror now gets closer and closer to you, until your breath begins to fog the mirror, blurring the images.  A ghostly finger seems to be writing in the fog, first a “D” then an “O” another “O” followed by the letter “M”.  “Will you erase it?” The voice asks.  Only as you try, the mirror begins to pull back away from you.  You scramble to reach it but it continues to pull back and pull back and pull back…  The voice says,  “You are the present but the present only takes place in the moment.  You must act in the moment or lose the moment and seal it’s fate.”  The voice seems to be coming from somewhere up above as you feel yourself slipping and falling and falling and falling.  You wake up with a jolt, as if you just caught yourself from falling.  

You stare into the quiet darkness as you catch your breath.  There is no one there.  No one but you.  You lay in bed considering the strange dreams and occurrences of the night as you try to ease your way back to sleep.  Eventually, you do fall back to sleep.

You wake up cold and hungry.  You look around to find, you are not in your home.  You are on a street somewhere.  It doesn’t appear to be the United States.  The people around you are emaciated and their clothing is very worn looking.  But you feel like you have been here before.  It’s like you recognize the street you are on and yet you don’t.  As you look down the street, you see what appears to be zombies, slowly, ambling their way towards you.  You see people looking as confused as to their whereabouts, as you feel.  You begin to head towards one of them but before you get to them a quick moving, shadowy figure, ascends upon them and you watch in horror as the that person seems to be drained of their life, right before your eyes.  They fall to the ground for a moment, recover but they are now surrounded by the zombies who have come to collect them.  

You run, not knowing where you’re going.  Quick around that corner!  Ah, here.  There’s no one here.  You can stay here for now.

A piece of paper blows over and lands on your foot.  You pick it up and read.  It’s a flyer that says, “DON’T BE EXPENDABLE!!  You are a natural resource!  When you are gone, you are gone.  Don’t waste your precious time and energy.  Don’t sacrifice your children.  Guard them, their health and yours.  Don’t be fooled.  Money can not buy these things.”  You look around trying to make sense of it all when you once again spot the zombies and a shadowy figure that is quickly moving your way.  You  run!  You trip and you find yourself in a hole that is about 6 feet deep but you’ve landed on a cushion of sorts.  No, you realize, you’ve landed in a coffin and it shuts.  You hear voices above you.  “Such the profit we’ve made of this one.”  “Sent them through the ringer we did.”  “I wonder… whatever will we do when we run out of them?”  “I suppose we will become cannibals.”  “Last one standing wins.”  “Wins?  Wins what?”

As you struggle to let out your last breath and you see the mirror again, with the word “Doom” now illuminated by the condensation of your breath.  You’re not sure but you think you hear the song, “Man In The Mirror” softly playing in the distance as you quickly run your sleeve over the mirror clearing from it, the word “Doom”.  You awake again to hear the song, as a radio blasts out through a car window and the sun, rises.  



To be thankful is to be kind


So, here we are… tis the season…  and it all starts with this day of thanks.  When did you last say thank you?  Who was it to? What were you thanking them for? Was it sarcasm? Or the real deal?

My mom taught me to be appreciative as a child.  She came into my room to rouse me each morning, singing “Good morning Merry Sunshine.”  She was such a bright energy and she shared it,  I think most of the time with everybody she came into contact with. She was loved by anyone who really knew her and most people wanted to know her and be in her inner circle.  God, I miss her so much!!!  But I am so thankful, so very appreciative that I had her in my life for as long as I did.  She wasn't perfect but she had such an appreciation for people and life and for any good thing that came her way.  It was out of that appreciation for what she had, that she gave to others.  I share this with you because I concern over our growing feelings of entitlement as a country, our lack of appreciation for what we have and our lack of appreciation for those around us, which shows up in our consideration or lack there of for others. If there's one thing we should have, its appreciation for life, ours and that of others.

I've been asked by others why I am no longer on social media.  It's the way it makes me feel, sad.  Perhaps one day I'll give it another go...  But it was like it all escalated last year through the elections and kept up.  So many posts seemed so disgruntled and I was feeling disgruntled.  Why would I knowingly choose to feel that way?  I don't want to be swallowed up by angst.  It distorts my view of the world, my experiences, my interactions with people and it makes me lose appreciation for all of it.  It makes me distrustful.  It's really pretty jading.  And perhaps at the end of the day, it's all in my head and nobody else's but I know better than to chose to participate in a situation that makes me feel bad or sad.  Feeling that way, living that way, is not for me!  My mom's dying was such a huge loss for me.  It has shaken me to my core and made me realize, I need to realign myself with appreciation for what I have and stop thinking about what I don't have or who has what I wish I had or how I can use what I have to make someone else feel that what they have is not enough so I can then feel as if what I have is enough or find a way to leverage their not feeling they have enough into getting whatever it is that I feel so impoverished to try to manipulate the situation into giving me.  (
As I believe I do each Thanksgiving I want to post the link to this song, by Geggy Tah "Whoever You Are" and I want to remind you to be kind and courteous so we can all get safely to our loved ones this holiday season and beyond.
Also, I want to post this link to explain further what I have tried to say in this blog.  I give you The Pretenders, "Don't Get Me Wrong"-"I might be great tomorrow but hopeless yesterday" (<--yep!)



I did not choose her as a friend.  She was part of the “bargain” I took on when I chose to have someone else in my life.   My guess is she felt the same about me, as she seemed very prickly and snappish about all things that were me, that did not line up with her.  I often found myself bending and sometimes, ever so gently, trying to persuade her to open her mind to other possibilities.  Respectfully.  Gently.  Yet, she struck me as someone always ready to pounce into a debate or fight.  Like she was looking for it.  I often wondered if she enjoyed arguing and fighting.  One day, while very annoyed and reviewing various arguments and uncomfortable out bursts of hers, that I was the recipient of, I began wondering if she actually believed her side of the arguments she would so passionately excite or was she just baiting me any chance she got?  Well, maybe I did contribute to her anger…

One particular day, while our children played together in another room and we hung out in the kitchen, with the news playing on a small television and she prepped her dinner, she began replying angrily at the news.  Some female had gone into a bar, gotten inebriated and was raped there in the bar.  This was probably about two years post the whole Tail Hook Scandal I had paid careful attention to, along with the Clarence Thomas, Anita Hill scandal/trial, as I came to realize that we females have to be really careful, and even THAT, sadly is not always enough.  “Can you believe this!” was the beginning of a rant she began to yell in her kitchen that started with her rage over the news story and then continued as she ranted hate against all males, putting them all in one basket.  I realized I was walking into a minefield…  Editing myself was not a strong point for me at the time but I felt a need to protect those males in the world that really were just decent people.  Now maybe I said what I said next because it was apparent to me, her husband had let her down in many ways and I felt she needed to know there was better out there.  But more likely because her daughter was playing with my son in the other room and her daughter’s life quickly flashed before my eyes.  With total confidence, I can say, my own lack of self editing was the weakest link here as I said, out loud and loud is a good description, “While we have to teach our boys to respect the girls in this world, we also have to empower our daughters and teach them self respect and self protection. This never should have happened and never would have happened had she not walked into that bar, alone, drank away her defenses and fallen prey to someone who never got that “respect females” message, along with guidelines of what that respect consisted of.”  I wasn’t trying to victim blame, which is what she heard…  I was trying to problem solve.  She of course did not take it that way and many other people probably would not…

BACK STORY:  I was a stay at home mom because I took responsibility for my own sons seriously, to the point of OCD.  I felt it was my job to educate them on how to be a member of society and respect others.   I knew going in, that meant respecting males in the way I treated them and spoke about them in front of my boys as much as modeling my respect for other females.  My own mother never berated one sex or the other and neither did my father.  I was exposed to the disrespect a bit growing up but not from my own parents.  HOWEVER, my father had his opinions and they showed up in things like my curfew time and inquisitions in regards to my where abouts and with whom.  Also, he did not want me in any way, shape or form, involved in entertainment.  Comments he made and actions he took to herd me away made me resent this.  I think my dad was repulsed by the lifestyle of Janis Joplin and her impression on him unfortunately led him to impressing on me the life of an entertainer was no life for his daughter.  He also took the Red Forman (Dad in “That 70’s Show”) hard ass approach to child rearing.  He never called me a “dumb ass” but for sure called me on “What were you thinking?”  “Were you thinking?”  “Go to your room and think about this!”  Which is kind of the same as Red’s “Don’t be a dumb ass!”  THINK!  Consider that you are living in a factual world and act accordingly.  …I am thankful for the most part of his approach.  But not the part where he did he not trust to me to go my own way, in the direction of my heart, my mind and my perceived talent?”  He didn’t because he knew something went terribly wrong in Janis Joplin’s life and things like Tail Hook happen and because he knew that these things happen to females, I was taught that my life would be more limited than the lives my brother’s had been born into.  I rebelled as best I could but I was a thinker and you can only go so far into rebellion if your eyes are fixed on the end result of your actions.  I stopped short of it being counter productive.   …well, most of the time…

Because I was told/taught/punished (<— whatever you want to label it) to go to my room and think, I knew that “Freedom of Speech” does not mean you are protected when you piss someone off by expressing yourself.  I personally have learned that lesson over and over again.  So it may not be all we perceive it to be…  I also knew when I turned 21, I had the right to go many places, including bars and go there by myself, along with the right to get inebriated but that did not mean I would be protected while there or in an inebriated state.  I mean hopefully so but I’m really not assured of my own safety if I go anywhere, inebriated or not, and at times that knowledge is a limit on my life.  I sometimes evaluate the situation and choose to let being a female of small build, a reason to forgo doing things I have a right to.  I, allow being a female, to be a limit on my life and that SUCKS!!!    

BACK TO MY ORIGINAL STORY:  Anyway, none of my knowing and thinking stopped me from using my “freedom of speech” and expressing myself to the subject of the above story and boy did I step in it, when I explained to her that we as females need to be aware of ourselves and the consequences of our actions.  I was not blaming the female in the news story.  She did NOT DESERVE what happened to her!!!  I was just saying, that when we females and males alike, go into a questionable place or dull our own senses and ability to think clearly, we can become victims of ill intent.  My heart hurt for the female in the news story.  It was disheartening that I could not explain to the person who was all up in my face, that while we as females have rights, they will never stand up for us, the way we can, when we take into account the facts of the situation and act on them.  

As a woman I feel so thankful to be a citizen of a country, whose laws try to insure that I am treated as an equal but I do want to point out that we still have a ways to go.  I wish I lived in a country where all people were honestly treated as equals.  As I see it, every little inequality in our country not only depletes the citizens and makes their lives smaller but does the same to the country as a whole.  

I leave you with a scribble I once wrote.  Perhaps the basis of of a song I’ve yet to write:
“Rapunzel was beautiful all the town’s folk would say but her heart was like ice as hard as cold clay.  Rapunzel’s mother locked her away.  Held her for ransom of child support pay.  Filled her with bitterness in regards to men and taught Rapunzel to not let them in.  “Rapunzel, Rapunzel”  You’d hear the boys say, “Let down your hair.  Come out and play.  Rapunzel, Rapunzel, with beauty so rare, I’m only asking that you let down your hair.”  <— I guess my initial thought was how many hurt women, raise daughters to carry the flags of their mother’s wounds and never get to experience males for themselves.  They just get the preconceived notions they’re brainwashed into believing but like most things, lessons taught, come from some where… 


"Undone" Weezer


I'm late blogging this week. Not because I have nothing to blog about, actually my mind is anxiously racing through concerns over our country's health care costs, the identities and numerous amount of people in power that have been using it inappropriately, and how perplexing I found last night's homeowner's association meeting to be.. So I have chosen to blog about the common thread here that maybe we should take a good look at.  

We are still learning.  We're not bad people.  We are humans, each of us with different perspectives. But we have this tendency to think that because WE think it, it must be right.  That would be true if we were living by ourselves. We would have only one perception, one reality. However, our life spans would be pretty short, if they were incongruent with the scientific facts of the natural world around us. Oh, but we would be right! Absolutely right... till the day we died. I am learning, life can be confusing.  That life and truth are ever-evolving things.  Often depending upon who at the moment has the power to decide what that truth is or how the part of our life that they have control over will go. That's why I'm trying to pay attention, listen more than I speak, be careful who I give power to, recognize my part of the responsibility in extending power and be considerate of the difficulties anyone in power (including myself) may face.  

Having grown up Southern Baptist, which is probably a story for another day, I welcomed the idea that I was righteous.  It made me feel powerful as I sat in judgement over others.  I was just this powerless kid but I could call out others on their sins and that somehow substituted for power at the time.  Then, as a teenager, I began to learn how that wasn't working for me as a member of society.  I have traveled along the road from there to here and I still have a long way to go…  but I keep learning this one thing over and over again.  When we look for wrong, bad or evil, we find it.  Our perceptions will help us find it. Even if our perceptions have to warp themselves to serve us in this way. It's more productive to spend our time chasing answers then chasing down someone to blame.  We really don't need enemies. When something's wrong, the quicker we repair it and move on, the better.  Forgiveness is part of moving on but again that's probably a subject for another day.  Maybe it's because Halloween just passed but the story of Frankenstein comes to mind.  We don't need monsters in our life.  We just need to understand that people can be ignorant until they learn, they make mistakes, it is each of our jobs as a society to help correct these mistakes, educate each other as to what the boundaries are, set them for yourselves to clear what may otherwise appear to be blurred lines for others.  If we don't speak up and do that, then lines become more blurred and eventually will go away and we'll find ourselves starting at the beginning, all over again in educating people what is acceptable and what is unacceptable for our society as a whole functioning unit.  I admit, it’s hard for me to take responsibility for my own failures. I would guess the same is true for you.  I learned as a teenager, people become downright belligerent and refuse to take responsibility for their failures when they feel judged.  Being courteous, curious and willing to listen, go a long way.  It often helps you find the heart of the matter.  I say heart because we are very emotional beings.   So, if you can connect the emotions to the heart, most people's minds will open.  It requires patience but could save you years of misunderstanding, suffering, and wasted time.  

The problem with labeling someone evil is you can't reason with evil.  The word bad entices the reaction of disposal.  Wrong is often perception.  It's probably best we use the word human when dealing with people because we can deal with humans.

"He did the monster tweet"-- ;-)


This day has gone by so fast I haven't even had a chance to blog the way I would have liked.  Also, I seem to have misplaced my sense of humor but I'm sure if I could find it I'd make a twisted tune of the Monster Mash.  It would probably be called the Monster Tweet.  Might go, "He did the tweet.  He did the monster tweet.  He did the tweet.  Would these be words he would eat?  He did the tweet.  He did the monster tweet. But would Papadopoulos be the Trump/Russian link?"  <--yeah, yeah, I know probably too presumptuous of me. Still, I do wonder if we haven't happened upon the season when all the skeletons come out of the closet...

But seriously folks be careful out there tonight!  Watch out for the trick-or-treaters and have a happy Halloween! 



Confessions of a story teller


I always thought I wanted to be a singer but I was really more of an impressionist, with the goal of being able to duplicate what I heard.  It’s a kind of singing I guess.  In ninth grade, I learned in a very rude way that my unattractive looks that ranked a 2, on a scale of 1-10, would keep me from receiving any solos from the music teacher.  Something I was made aware of when one of the male members in a back up group I was in, clued me in to it, as he perused through the teachers grade book, reading various notes and filling us in on who would be receiving the solos.  I’ll give you a hint on who they were as they all had been ranked 8’s and up.  We had been placed in groups and sent to various areas to rehearse and my group just happened to be sent to the teacher’s office…  

Maybe it was knowing I needed a back up plan or maybe it was songs I longed to hear that I wasn’t hearing because they weren’t being written or weren’t being delivered in such a way I would hear them.  Or maybe, it was just my own narcissistic desire to hear my own voice represented in the mix.  All I can say for sure is, in the notebook I generally used to write lyrics from songs I had recorded off of the radio, I began to write lyrics that were all my own and this became such a habit, that I went out and bought a book specifically for writing my own lyrics.  Then one day at school, I realized I couldn’t find my book!  The panic that went through me!  I looked everywhere and then went home and bawled my eyes out.  It was like losing my diary or having my best friend randomly tell everyone all the private things I ever told them.  I wondered and feared, who may have my deepest thoughts and what they might do with them.  So like a bandaid, I decided I would be the one to rip it off and I would rewrite what I could remember and then courageously share it.   So I did.  What surprised me was, when I shared the lyrics to my own songs with others, they often related and sometimes told me it made them feel better.  Some even shared their own guarded thoughts and experiences with me, which I sometimes would then find myself writing about, sometimes sharing, without giving up the identity of my subject.  I didn’t try to write.  I just would find it coming out of me in the form of a song like this one:  


“Ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha ou
When I, was just a child, I headed up a mountain side, where I met a wolf there and he took me by surprise.  I thought my life would be taken.  No, no it was spared.  Now, I keep seeing, that wolf, everywhere…
Oh-oh-no, Mother, would you help me?  You let a wolf inside the door.  I made, the mistake of feeding it, and now it’s coming back, coming back, coming back, for more.  Oh no! Mother! Mother! Mah-hah-ther!

Ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha ou
When I, was just a child, I asked my Grandma, “What is love?”  She handed me a red hooded coat, said, “That’s, what it’s made of.  And like the coat my darling, love will keep you safe and warm.”  But that was the first night Mother.  The night I met your wolf.
Oh-oh-oh Mother, would you help me?  You let a wolf inside the door.  I made, the mistake of feeding it, and now it’s come back, come back, come back, for more.  Oh-oh no-oh! Mah-hah, Mah-hah, Mah-hah-ther!

Ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha ou
And just tonight Mother, I met your wolf again.  Only this time Mother,  he was just a man, but he’s in the garden now, he’s howling at the moon.  Oh Mother, grab a gun, he’s sure to be here soon!
Please Mother, won’t you help me?  You let a wolf inside the door.  I made the mistake of feeding it, and now it’s coming back, coming back, coming back, for more.  Oh-oh no-oh! Mah-hah, Mah-hah, Mah-hah-ther!

Ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha-ou-ou-ou, wha ou
But in the end, she said, I was telling, fairytales.  NO MAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-THER-HER!”  

When I started to write for others I found my own voice and I learned that I could also communicate for myself the same way.  So many times in life I have found myself speechless and the right words come too late or only way, way too late.  Sometimes, the words come out in a song.  I expect we all wish we could communicate better, more bravely, more quickly or at all.  I have a tendency to use different approaches and styles when I write.  For instance, the above song is more along the style of Kate Bush because I wanted to communicate the vulnerability of the story teller.  More that of a child begging for help versus say, “Damsel in Dis-dress” off of our “Worth The Risk” CD.  “Damsel” would be much more of a taking control song and I think of myself as a story teller so getting the character clear helps me to communicate what initiated the song in the first place or what I feel the ghost in my head wants people to know...  I suppose I’m a product of the MTV, VIDEO generation where it’s about a story but with only music, my voice and the lyrics I have to work harder at the telling part.  I don’t know, maybe I’m even more like Meat Loaf in that way.  Maybe… 


"Love and Lust"--Kristina Furey


As of today I have been married to Dan for 27 years.  We dated for four years previous to getting married.   It amazes me how much things have changed in the world since Dan and I got married and how many adventures we have taken on, as well as how many difficult things we have faced together.   Sitting here today, I realize how fortunate I have been to have a hand to hold and particularly, his hand.  

If I were to make a wish for each person in this world, it would be that they too, will be supported by love as they walk through their life.  That with loves gentle hand and guidance they will face the difficult head on and understand that the difficult does not have to travel with them once they have walked through it.  No need for those souvenirs.

I carried so much unnecessary baggage with me as I entered into marriage but marrying a person who picks up my spirit instead of diminishing it has not only been crucial to my survival but also supported me in such a way that moment by moment I have lightened the load of my baggage as I realized what it is to have another person invest so much love in me.  ME!  How awesome is that!?!  Well it’s the most awesome feeling, with the exception of what it is like to generously invest my love in Dan without fear of losing out.  

My mother told me a long time ago as I considered becoming sexually active with my first love to think carefully about it.  She asked, “What happens if you get pregnant?”  I said, “He said, he would marry me.”  I had just turned 18.  In fact, I waited to 18, so I could be “responsible” for my actions.  She said, “If you do get pregnant and he marries you, do you think he may resent you?”  I thought about this…  I was thinker and it was an astute question.  “Yes,” I said, but not as convincing as I had hoped it would come out…   How do you think he will feel when his friends and peers are exploring their new found freedom of being 18 and done with high school and independent?”  Do you think he will continue to feel the same about you, when you and possible child, stand between him and life experiences he could otherwise be having?”  “Well, he loves me,” my answer.  “You, do you have a direction you want to go?”  She knew I did.  I don’t know if she knew my father was intent on stacking the odds against me or the part she played in that intentionally or unwittingly.   WOW, if we could have had that discussion…  How, I could see the walls creeping in on me in such a way I was being led to follow the plans they had set out for me and become who they wanted, instead of who I was.  Perhaps the reason for choosing my boyfriend who had that “Hop on the back of my motorcycle and lets get the hell out of here” attitude.  But now, now this conversation I was having with my mom was bringing a reality to light I feared and I hadn’t yet found a way to erase that one moment, when I saw my boyfriend kick his mother’s dog in irritation.  I thought about my own Dad and his unchecked anger and how it had scarred me and made my brother so defiant.  No, I didn’t want children and I wasn’t sure I wanted permanence with my first love.  Well, I was unsure at that point.  I still needed time, time to observe, so I could figure out if this was the kind of love I needed or if it was not so different from the controlling love I felt I needed to escape.  I needed time and my first love needed to move forward.  It was so hard to let go of him and everything he represented to me.  Hard too, to face the fear that I may never love and be loved again…  I was only eighteen and I had no idea that opportunity comes around and around and I thought I was starving but I wasn’t.  I wasn’t full.  I was satiated and I was okay, even if I did not realize it.  He was a beautiful person, damaged in some ways that were no fault of his own.  Part of me wanted to fix him and part of me needed to fix myself and realized I would have to keep searching for that fix.  I found it in Dan.  I’m so thankful for the conversations I had with my mother, especially that one.  

Two years later and sexually involved with Dan, I wrote the following song (in the style of Annie Lennox’s “Missionary Man”…

My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.—My Momma told me a long time ago, she said, “Girl one day you’re gonna fall in love.  But let me tell you before you do, there are guys you love and there’s guys you lust.  Hey, we are just women but we got those same feelings.  So before you fall in love, you gotta make sure it’s something you can trust.—My Momma told me a long time ago, “I don’t want you losing your head.  There’s a difference between falling in love or just falling into some guys bed.  If you think you found the one, make sure it ain’t lust on the run.  If it’s love it will come in time.  You don’t think with your body, you think with your mind.—My Momma told me a long time ago, she said, “My little babies gonna fall in love.  Just be sure before you do, it’s a guy you love, not just one you lust.  I’m not trying to put love down.  I’m not trying to dictate.  I wish someone would have told me but I guess we all learn from our own mistakes.— Momma told me a long time ago, “Some guys are out there, just looking for fun.  They can damage your self esteem, so when you see them be sure to run.  Be sure, to take your time.  Explore your body and know your mind.  Be sure to respect yourself.  If you don’t then neither will anyone else.—My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.—“If you think you found the one  just make sure it ain’t lust on the run.  But if you find someone to love and lust, well that is, the best feeling, you can trust.”—My Momma told me a long time ago, “My little angels gonna fall in love but just remember before you do there’s a difference between love and lust.”

…Anyway, I took the advice from my own song, though in reality, it was not all from my mom.  It came from many places and I guess I realized I could put it all in a song and maybe that would be helpful to some other girl out there in the world trying to navigate her way through what it’s like to grow up female.  It ain’t easy!  I ran with all types and I was typed, labeled, groped, blackballed at times, sent to the corner by the powers that were and often misunderstood.  Lost until I found myself and when I did, I always went in search of the others like me, in need of being searched out, found, retrieved and gently put back on their pedestals.  I believe more than ever our young girls need that!  And so I share.

Much love and best wishes to you in all your endeavors!


Haters Gonna Hate


So I wrote this song.  I think it was a culmination of last weeks events and my delayed reaction to watching the documentary entitled “Get Me Roger Stone”.   I would suggest you see the documentary if you have not.  It’s an eye opening look at our “Politics” and perhaps an answer to the question, “What is going on in our country?”

I think I’ll name this one “Haters Gonna Hate”
“He said, “I toast, the Frenemies and all their common enemies.  Watch hate work for you and me and take them down, down, down.  

He said, “We will pass, on the blame, cause them misery, pain and shame, we’ll laugh as they proclaim, let’s take em down, down, down.” Another one down.  Sink another one down.  How’s that goin’ down?

Hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate and take you down.  Take you down, down, down.  Yeah, hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hey-yate and take you dow-ow-ouwn.  Take you down. down, down.

He said, “Give them an enemy and they will do the rest you see, point out they’re at war and they’ll take em down, down, down.  Another one down.  The suckers go down.” How’s that goin’ down?

Hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate and take you down.  Take you down, down, down.  Yeah, hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hey-yate and take you dow-ow-ouwn.  Take you down. down, down.

“So, give them a sacrificial lamb and let them put their sins on them, put a weapon in their hand and watch them go down, down, down.”  Watch them all go down.   Like dominoes, down.”  How’s that going down?

Are you getting this down?  Do you get this now?   How they set up-you and me-and get away-some how.  This is how!  Do you get it now?  Do you get it now-or must we keep-going down, down, down, down, DOWN!

He Said, “I toast, the Frenemies and all their common enemies.  Watch hate work for you and me and take them down!”

One last thing:  Here's an interesting interview I heard on FRESH AIR today with NEW YORKER’S, Dexter Filkins.  "Tensions Rise Between Tillerson And Trump As The Threat Of War In North Korea Looms"
"Sec. of State Rex Tillerson is a diplomat in an administration that doesn't value diplomacy" --Quote from the interview.


"One insect can damage so much grain"--Elton John


A second blog this week because I'm just not done expressing this:  It only takes one person to show us, as a society, how sick we are.  Perhaps individually, we are only as well as we are, as a society and perhaps as a society, we are only as well as each individual that make it up…

So Imagine for a moment, if the shooter in the Las Vegas shooting had gotten some form of mental health care, instead of ever going on that shooting rampage…

Now let’s take a moment to look at the costs of him not getting the mental care that could have helped him find another way to deal with, whatever it was that he was reacting to, when he shot all those people…

What about each person shot and the medical costs they face?  Do they even have health insurance?  How many of them will not even be able to work in the future due to their injuries.  Will they lose the ability to afford health insurance?  How will that affect their children?  How many more health issues might some of them face due to their bodies new challenges?  Now let’s alter that last question, just a bit.  How many health issues will be caused due to the psychological impact, on those shot and even those at the scene that were not shot.  It can put people in states of hyper-vigilance.   What impact will that have on their children?  What will be the fall out for us as a nation, those of us that have been vicariously traumatized?   Will depression rates rise among people that were never even at the sight of the shooting as their perception of reality regarding their safety changes?  How will that affect the next generation? 

When we discuss healthcare and the budget, I think these are definitely valid points to consider.  Just what has this cost our country and what will this cost our country in the long run?  The lyrics from “Empty Garden (Hey, Hey, Johnny)” come to mind as I consider the costs of not providing all Americans with health insurance.  “It’s funny how one insect can damage so much grain.” —Elton John’s tribute song to John Lennon

I know it’s easy for some of us to think of ourselves as hardworking and deserving of the things we believe we are working hard for as we look upon others with skeptical eyes and the belief, they too should earn their way and why should we have to carry them?  
Why should we carry them? BECAUSE…  Because life isn’t fair, for you, for them, FOR ANY OF US and our perception of reality is more fragile than we like to admit because it’s reliant upon each person, that makes up the whole.  It only takes one person to show us, as a society, how sick we are.  Perhaps individually, we are only as well as we are, as a society and perhaps as a society, we are only as well as each individual that make it up.