BANTER VS. HUNGER - What a morning!

You know it's going to be a long day, when you hear something on the radio and your instantly triggered with an opinion.  Now, 5:05am, I'd rather think of better things like; Is it the weekend yet? Is it payday? What could I make good for dinner? Will my husband and son be working late on the job tonight? But this wasn't the case for today. I was triggered by a commercial about hunger in America., followed by the topic of the day for people to call in and voice their opinions, "How the presidential candidates have been paying thousands upon thousands of dollars to slam, slander, bash, and out point the other ones current and past faults and do American's like this political banter or not." Now to know me is to know that I turn and run in the opposite direction on any topics that are politically charged, but this time I almost called in, but withheld doing so, as I work for the Radio station I was listening to.

Frankly, I was appalled to hear what people had to say. "REALLY FOLKS - THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS WAISTED SO EACH CANIDATE CAN POINT FINGERS ABOUT EACH OTHERS RIGHTS AND WRONGS AND YOU SAY IT’S OK TO SPEND THIS KIND OF MONEY!"  How about this idea if you want to be the President. If you truly want the job or better yet...my vote. Put the money you spend to bash one another to more important issues. A perfect example; feed the hungry we have in the USA! Take all that money and put it towards the deficit that keeps growing every day. Stop the idea of taxing people who can't afford to buy into this new healthcare - and why can't they? They have been on unemployment for god only knows how long and they have to make bigger decisions - do we pay the electric today or do we feed our children?  I am very tired of this political bullshit. I am tired of seeing people struggle. It rips my heart out when I hear that people I know are losing their homes because their financial investments are gone because of the bad economy, that good people are making bad decisions out of fear, anguish, and depression.  People who are facing a personal hell, no matter the reason, the people around them suffer too.

To either candidate - If you want to be an effective President, no matter who is elected, then be a leader who listens to All the people ALL of the time, not some of the people all of the time that will better your growing resume. Remember gentlemen. You have, and the people throughout this world have, children who are also going to be affected by future tomorrows, long after your time in office, by the choices each of you make today. Don't stand at your podiums and tell us what we want to hear, show us that you heard us. Actions speak louder than words. Show us that the constitution really means something and is not just on display in Washington DC to bring in tourists to generate revenue.

The words within our constitution have depth, meaning, and soul.

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

What would our founding fathers think if they could see us now? How do you want to be remembered; for the way we once were, the way we are now, or the way we could be because someone dared to step outside the box and make a solid difference.

To my readers out there, again, this is merely my opinion. I’m not asking you to agree or disagree. I just found it to be so frustrating that callers were voicing their opinion why these endless high dollar election bash fest television ads are justified. All the while the commercial about how the family next door is privately starving stabs my thoughts like an endless beeping alarm clock without an off switch. Who knows maybe it was intentional to get people thinking, like the way it took hold of me. Before the radio came on, I pondered, maybe I’ll go back to bed.  Now I sit wanting to vent as I just can’t seem to wrapped my head around the fact that it seems that priorities different across the board in the world of today vs. the world of yesterday.

Here’s hoping that the struggles that each of you may be facing, are met with strength, courage, and know that you are not alone. That one day the future will be so bright – We’ll all have to wear shades.

Thanks for joining me today and as always – Blog ya later.

(Wow I didn't think this blog would generate so many emails in a positive light, in less than an hour. Many thanks)

Inspirational Song for the day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ssv4Ht0wInU

"A Mom Just Knows"

It's been a busy week here at the Bolin home with preprations for our son's upcoming 18th Birthday. So in the meantime, here is a little something I found on the internet to put a smile on your face. Enjoy.

*****

Ben invited his mother over for dinner. During the meal, his mother couldn't help noticing how beautiful Ben's roommate was. She had long been suspicious of a relationship between Ben and his roommate and this only made her more curious.

Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Ben and the roommate than met the eye. Reading his mom's thoughts, Ben volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Allison and I are just roommates."

About a week later, Allison came to Ben and said, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the beautiful silver gravy ladle. "You don't suppose she took it, do you?"

Ben said, "Well, I doubt it, but I'll write her a letter just to be sure."

So he sat down and wrote: "Dear Mother, I'm not saying you 'did' take a gravy ladle from my house, and I'm not saying you 'did not' take a gravy ladle. But the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for dinner."

Several days later, Ben received a letter from his mother which read:

"Dear Son, I'm not saying that you 'do' sleep with Allison, and I'm not saying that you 'do not' sleep with Allison. But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now. Love, Mom"

****

For some reason this joke of the day, brought a song to mind. Funny what things will trigger in the brain. Have a great day!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnjguD9M_v0

ABBA - Does your mother know?

Our Prayers & Thoughts

Our prayers and thoughts

to the

victims, families,

and the

Aurora Community.

Our Prayers and Thoughts -

Our Prayers and thoughts

go out to the

Victims, Families, and

the Aurora Community

Signs You Drink Way To Much Coffee

- You answer the door before people knock.
- Juan Valdez named his donkey after you.
- You ski uphill.
- You grind your coffee beans in your mouth.
- You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
- You lick your coffeepot clean.
- You're the employee of the month at the local coffeehouse and you don't even work there.
- Your eyes stay open when you sneeze.
- You chew on other people's fingernails.
- Your T-shirt says, "Decaffeinated coffee is the devil's blend."
- You can type sixty words per minute ... with your feet.
- You can jump-start your car without cables.
- Cocaine is a downer.
- You don't need a hammer to pound nails.
- Your only source of nutrition comes from "Sweet & Low."
- You don't sweat, you percolate.
- You buy 1/2 & 1/2 by the barrel.
- You've worn out the handle on your favorite mug.
- You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee.
- You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.
- You forget to unwrap candy bars before eating them.
- Charles Manson thinks you need to calm down.
- You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers.
- People get dizzy just watching you.
- You've worn the finish off your coffee table.
- The Taster's Choice couple wants to adopt you.
- Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house.
- Your taste buds are so numb you could drink your lava lamp.
- Instant coffee takes too long.
- When someone says. "How are you?", you say, "Good to the last drop."
- You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can.
- Your birthday is a national holiday in Brazil.
- You're offended when people use the word "brew" to mean beer.
- You have a picture of your coffee mug on your coffee mug.
- You can thread a sewing machine, while it's running.
- You can outlast the Energizer bunny.
- You short out motion detectors.
- You don't even wait for the water to boil anymore.
- Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale.
- You think being called a "drip" is a compliment.
- You don't tan, you roast.
- You can't even remember your second cup.
- You help your dog chase its tail.

"HER Mustache - A True Story"

I found this story that I wrote back in March and decided that even though it is months after the fact, when I tell the story to friends, it generates some great laughs. So I figure, ah hell why not tell all of you. Everyone should have a good laugh once a day, even if it is at my expense. He’s one for today, feel free to share with your friends. I know at some point in peoples lives, everyone can relate to this.

****

Well, OK, I did a dumb thing today.  I have found that having a pedicure is a very relaxing process and since my feet are not that ticklish, I can hold my own and not make any sudden moves or end up in a burst of laughter and squirming around in my chair. I also have a family member that has found this to also be a nice treat, however not because he wants to explore his feminine side. He suffers from ingrown toenails periodically and so we have found that a trip to the salon actually, once a year, has helped reduce this tremendously. He was thrilled when he saw a man walk in today to have his feet tended too. He appeared to be a football or some type of sports player. I merely responded everyone should have this done at least once in their lives. It is very relaxing if you can get past the tickle, for those that are ticklish. So for me, I usually stick with having a manicure and pedicure, and am done.

So, when I go into these places, I generally know what it costs and what the process is and how long it takes. For some reason things were different this time. I had a momentary lapse in my judgment.  This time I fell into the full Monty sales pitch for some additional beauty treatments. They wanted to wax my eyebrows.

“What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”  I wondered as they kept on and on. For years I have used tweezers to prevent that overgrown cat whisker look. It has never hurt, and I have never had a problem keeping them shapely and even, but I went ahead and said OK, let’s do it. My thinking this time, sometimes tilling an area gives a new landscape guideline for trimming the hedges. We walked through the nail processing stations, past the massage chairs and soak tubes, where I left my family member to continue his pedicure, and went deep into the back of the salon into a very small room. In a matter of moments I found myself lying on a padded table, as the technician starts in with the small talk before what really lay ahead.

"You like thick eye brow, no?" she spoke with such an innocent and soft voice. She was a shy sounding woman of Asian, I think, decent. She was always smiling and when she spoke she would look directly into your eyes convincing you she could do no harm - who would have thought she could inflict such horror.

"Yes,” I said, “I prefer a thicker brown, but not a uni-brow." Of course I laughed, as I thought my comment was funny as an image of Eddy Munster came to mind.

From behind me, I could hear her rustling around putting things together and rounding up her gear to being my beauty treatment.  Immediately a thick layer of rather hot wax was applied to the area between my eyebrows and eyes, followed by what looked to be like a piece of paper tape. In seconds it was done - a quick wax on, wax off. No pain, not even the feeling, of what I would like to call, a miss pull. You know, the one piece of hair you can see in the clutches of your tweezers, but when you go to yank it out, it pulls you eyelid out about six inches, makes your eyes water and the hair curls, not release. Come on people, raise your hands, you know you’ve felt this pain. Raise your hand and shake your head yes. Only you and I know why you’re raising your hand. Be proud to admit it – You’re human. Smile.

OK, let me get back to my story. So anyways, because I was feeling overjoyed that I experienced no pain, I was quickly suckered for the next process.

With a continued innocence in her voice she said, “You have hair on lip, not pretty. We wax?”

Feeling exceptionally confident, as if I had just been transformed into a Rachel Welch type beauty, and very  embarrassed that she made a remark about those pesky think hairs that sporadically find a home on my upper lip, I agreed to keep going.

She quickly went back to her counter, fiddled through her facial hair processing products, and then began step two in my beauty transformation. This time, things looked a lot more industrial and I couldn’t help but wonder if the scattered hairs on my upper lip, which I also attack with tweezers, had tripled in numbers in less than two weeks. Last I knew I was not sporting a Tom Selleck look, I only had six hairs.

“We put more wax on, makes skin so smooth. Make you beautiful.” She smiled.

“Beautiful? Sure,” I said in a chipper voice.  Oh I can be so naïve at times.

As she placed the wax on, she went further than my upper lip, you would have thought that I had a mustache like the father on Orange County Choppers, but I didn’t say anything, she knew what she was doing and the best part was that I knew it wouldn’t hurt. She put the white tape over the wax, but this time left it on as she proceed with the same process on the other side. At that point, an image of a scene in the Movie “Steel Magnolias” jumped into my head that as I lay there, I must have looked like Weeza.

She must have seen that movie after what happened next. She put her things away and then came over to me, got ready to pull the first piece of tape off, and smiled.

“OK…We Pull.”

I’m sure my upper lip had extended about three feet from the table as she grabbed the tape and yanked it like a really old sticky band-air on a very hairy leg. Yank it quick, get it over with. I immediately sat straight up. Dang I had no idea I had that kind of stomach muscles.  My eye watered uncontrollably taking any makeup I had on my eye lashes, down my face.

“OUCH! What happened? My lip is on fire.” I yelled out. Again, she smiled, unaffected by my reaction to what I thought was going to be a pain free extra beauty treatment. It then donned on me, obviously this wasn’t the first time someone reacted in the manner. Here I am six foot tall, and this lady who stood all of five foot nothing, took me out with one pull.  HOLY LIP PAIN BATMAN!

“You lay down, we do other side.”

“I still have another side to do!?” The thought of a second pull had me as scared as a long tail cat in a room filled with rocking chairs. I even pondered, maybe I could just leave and warm up the wax and remove it myself when I got home and use my husband’s razor to match both side. Course any person knows that with shaving, you run the risk of things growing back more lush.

“Trust me, I do it quick.”

Not wanting to walk around in public with hot wax and tape on my face, I laid back down to finish what I had started. Just as quickly as before, she grabbed and pulled, but things went horribly wrong. She had suffered a miss pull and only half the tape had been lifted. Now both eyes blurred my vision with tears and my nose decided to join in on the act and did its share of adding to this scene with various sizes of snot bubbles growing out of my nose and popping on my face.  I looked like my face was having a meltdown. If I were to have gone outside at that very moment, I know people would have come called a hazmat team thinking I was suffering from some toxic exposure. Yes, I watch way too many Si-Fi movies.

This time, she didn’t wait for me to lay back down, she walk around to the front of me, reached up, and pulled again, which released the tape and wax, then she immediately applied a creamy ointment on all the areas she had treated. I felt like I had been beat up. This wasn’t a beauty treatment; it was a form of torcher and folks, boy did I ever pay for this in so many ways.

“You wear bikini?”

OH HELL NO! My immediate thoughts as I tried to get my breath back when she suggested a bikini wax, followed by her grin, had me ready to run out the door screaming - “Oh baby you are not going to try to manicure, touch up, primp, or remove anything down there.” I got off the table, gave her a tip, and then I took my bald upper lip, my pride and my bikini area and quickly got out of dodge. Could you imagine a wax treatment in the no-zone, and having a miss pull down there? That is something that Steven King could collaborate into some twisted horror story for sure. It could be called “Night of the Brazilian.”

An Idea Has Been Born - 7/10/12 1:24pm EST

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-b3iU-INDo

(To get ya in the mood)

https://www.etsy.com/listing/104064200/35-handpainted-snowman-illusion-glass

Who say's you can't get inspired

for the holidays in 100 degree heat?

 That's acutally why I

paint snowmen and snowflakes

 in the summer, it keeps my thoughts cool.

Happy Holidays.

"Nightmare on the Beach"

"Nightmare on the Beach"

Written by: Stacey L. Bolin

It resembled a scene from a horror movie. Police cars and yellow "Do not Cross" tape had sectioned off the scene while media helicopters hovered overhead trying to get a picture of the incident.  Detectives worked frantically as they tried their best to collect any evidence before it disappeared into the ground.

"How could something like this happen, and on the hottest day of the year?" Questioned one of the rookie officers, shocked by what he was seeing. "I knew being in this line of work that I am in, I'd see some grotesque things - but this?"

kids across the county had been anticipating the glorious sound in the air that indicated that the most important person in their community would soon be near. But the events of today would be a different story. As the hours ticked away, children one by one, with their head down in disappointment, made their way back into the comforts of their air conditioned homes, while children who had been swimming at a local beach had come face to face with sheer fear. 

Parents stood behind the police tape, holding their children close, trying to ease the pain of what they had seen and heard. A kind police officer walked over to the looming crowd, and as he wiped a tear from his eye he asked,  "Can anyone tell me what happened here today?"

To which a parent replied, "Can't you see it for yourself? PLEASE DO SOMETHING!"

"Ma'am, we are working as fast as we can to get this mess cleaned up."

Later that day, on the front page of every newspaper, big red letters were accompanied by a very horrific picture of what had happened on that hot summer day at the beach.

Scroll Down

Got Ya (Smile)

What would you do if your Ice Cream Truck Melted? 

Hope you liked my tall tale. This picture came from a post by a friend on Facebook. I do not know its origin, but I did not take this photograph and I do not know who the original artist is, but it did inspire me to write the story.

Have a COOL MONDAY everyone - Blog ya later. 

WE ARE OPEN FOR BUSINESS

http://www.etsy.com/shop/Ukandu?utm_source=OpenGraph&utm_medium=PageTools&utm_campaign=Share

Happy 4th of July

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNjggrxUQ78&feature=related

"The Gulf War Within"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYhsj1EZHNs  Today's song: Lost Souls by Bruce Hornsby and the Range.

M

onday morning on this second day in July started as it has every day for the past year, with the exception of one major detail, I chose to go back to bed, which is something that I know I shouldn’t do.  A tightness and slight ache just over my left ear, has me thinking that four tablets of Motrin and more sleep will heal this soon to be migraine.  I see my husband to his truck and then wave good-bye after he kisses me gently and drives off to work. I miss him already and the day hasn’t even officially started. I feel the same closeness as we had when we first met as we slowly learn that we both suffer from things within our military past, which we cannot change, but must learn to cope with.

I am relaxed while on his side of our bed, with his fan he has left on, that sits on a chair next to his side, blowing gently and his sent remains around me on his pillow. I fall asleep easily to whatever channel I have on the television, and the words he spoke to me over the weekend – he is still in love with me, playing over and over in my mind. A part of me has finally found inner peace.

As I dream, I harshly wake to the sounds of yelling and loud music – it is the movie Jarhead. I have never seen this, and had only read small segments out of the book from which the true story movie is told. When I first opened the book, I could not connect as I could not understand this soldiers pain - not until now. I know the feelings portrayed in the movie and now I can suddenly relate, but why? I heard about the war from members of my husband’s military unit and it is duplicated exactly from the words that I chose to read in the book, but now something is wrong in my mind and in my heart. A fear of true understanding overwhelms me, but I keep watching as each event in the movie unfolds, and it is reminding me of very brief statements by my husband that stems from his life from a blocked timeline that is slowly revealing itself about his experiences in the Desert Shield/Desert Storm war. I guess I can say that I was clueless as to the magnitude of what our men went through over there. I see people talk about it, who were never there, with the attitude of, if I don't learn about it - it never happened. BUT IT DID! Because of it, our soldiers of war will forever deal with an altered life caused by the fear of what they have gone through.  

Right now I feel I have gone to college class and have learned that I finally passed after failing it over and over again.  The words that my husband talks about, darkness during the day as oil rains upon his unit, the countless charred remains of what was once a human life and the sounds of artillery shells exploding in the distance. He too has a book within himself that refuses to offer the chapters to help those around him, understand. He has blocked events in his mind that find their way back into his daily thoughts, that he'd rather have stayed locked away. He stands on the edge of the sand at any beach, and sees the desert and would rather not touch it. I saw a man that didn’t want to go away for the weekend. He smells the hot oil in a newly paved road, and he sees the desert and wants to get far away from it.  I saw a man that is frustrated that traffic is backed up and is growing impatient. While standing in a large crow with unexpected noise and chaos, he sees the desert and wants to go home and isolate himself away from all of it. I saw a man that was looking for an excuse not to go shopping He goes to work and operates equipment and drives truck – he sees the desert and is exhausted by the constant memories.  I saw a husband/father who was depressed and needed help, but didn't understand why. 

I found myself crying for my husband as I am fixed on the story that is playing out in front of me on TV so early in the morning. It is this moment that the light comes on and I realize there is so much more to my love of a lifetime, physically he is home, but the desert has claimed him as its prisoner of war and refuses to let him free. I sit here now only an hour after watching this movie, and our life together slowly becomes an instant slide show of memories that offer answers to many moments of frustration and concern, without any explanation then, to help me understand.  After twenty years of marriage and a tightness in my throat as I desperately fight to hide my sorrow from my children – I finally understand the words that he would say to me over and over when I endlessly keep ask him what was wrong, causing his anger towards me to grow.  He just couldn't say it enough "his problems were not about me."  for me I could only keep wondering in my clueless mind, "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?" All this time, I believed I was the sources of his negative feelings, only to learn three months ago – The desert is his pain.

My words of wisdom are to the friends and family members of our Military war veterans. We cannot even begin to understand the pain that our service members have endured, to say that we do, it can be disrespectful and trigger a hostile attitude if you have not been in their shoes. Many have come home with various levels of P.T.S.D. and will only seek help when they are ready, and that too is something hard for us to comprehend. Below I have added a link to anyone who feels that they may be suffering as a spouse, family member, or a significant other since a veteran has returned home from war.

http://www.familyofavet.com/coping_skills_PTSD_spouse.html

As angry as I am to see what our soldiers are going through, especially years after there time in service, I also feel a sense of  honor to know that I had the privilege to be a part of the Seabees, even though I never served on the front lines, you are all my family. Even more important, because of my choice to sign the line for Uncle Sam, I found the man that I love more than life itself and the children that we have created together. I am grateful that even though you are still reminded of your time at war, you are the most loving, caring and responsible person I know. I thank god everyday, that he realized he had enough angels and brought you home so that we could find one another.

Thank you for listening to my story today. I know that this is more of a somber note, but it is all part of my life lessons. So until tomorrow - Have a wonderful day and I'll blog you later.